06-10-2019, 11:42 PM
"That's the simple way of putting it, I suppose."
she looked back at her halberd again, examining it for a moment before setting it aside. She leaned forward, her elbows resting on her knees.
"Something you should realize about dragoons. Our strength and our ferocity is founded in hatred. I joined the Temple Knights to protect my country at sixteen. It was determined I had the makings of a dragoon before my second decade. We were given every reason on this star to despise the enemy that had plagued us for over a thousand years. The grudge of my former order is a terrifying thing, and every instinct is honed to kill to survive. If it wasn't, the dravanians would have eradicated us centuries ago."
She leaned back again, pressing her back against the pile of crates behind her as she began to roll up the sleeve of her tunic, inch by inch revealing a network of bites and slashes over her toned arms that had healed into knotted scars--a fraction of those that likely covered the rest of her body. Her eyes slid over the old wounds for a moment.
"You're smart, Deormund. Tell me. Do you really think people like me could just forget that those we once protected chose to spit on the memories of everyone that died for their safety?"
she looked back at her halberd again, examining it for a moment before setting it aside. She leaned forward, her elbows resting on her knees.
"Something you should realize about dragoons. Our strength and our ferocity is founded in hatred. I joined the Temple Knights to protect my country at sixteen. It was determined I had the makings of a dragoon before my second decade. We were given every reason on this star to despise the enemy that had plagued us for over a thousand years. The grudge of my former order is a terrifying thing, and every instinct is honed to kill to survive. If it wasn't, the dravanians would have eradicated us centuries ago."
She leaned back again, pressing her back against the pile of crates behind her as she began to roll up the sleeve of her tunic, inch by inch revealing a network of bites and slashes over her toned arms that had healed into knotted scars--a fraction of those that likely covered the rest of her body. Her eyes slid over the old wounds for a moment.
"You're smart, Deormund. Tell me. Do you really think people like me could just forget that those we once protected chose to spit on the memories of everyone that died for their safety?"