A Warriors Escapades

Some men were known heroes, famed for their bravery and dashing looks. Others were vile creatures, cretins of the worst sort, parading around in dark shadows, ever willing to strike an easy target. Yet some were more different still, not fitting either description and living a life significantly less impactful. Lucan was thus.

A soldier of the Western army, hailing from the lands where pines grew thick beneath barren mountain tops and where kings quarreled with lords about every patch of dirt they held dominion over. Lucan was no commander, nor was he a captain or a knight. He was a soldier, a brute. Arrow fodder and spear-feed, a pair of legs to carry some scraps of armor, who might protect a man far more important than he. Though it seemed all a rather depressing way of living, Lucan rarely complained, for even though he was a soldier, one day not long ago he had been a farmer and he knew that that was much harder than the way he lived now. Long days he toiled in the fields, dragging along an ancient ox who’d much rather graze than work. Always it would rain when he had no need of it and it’d soak him to his bones until they too shook and shivered. Yet in the summers not a drop would fall and again Lucan would stand in his field cursing whoever’s job it was to bring the rain.

Still, hard work made him the man he was today, tall and gruff, with iron muscles strengthening his shoulder, chest and arms. His long legs too showed the fruits of his labor, though his belly remained soft and full (without question the fault of his mothers cooking). His chestnut hair he kept trimmed just above his shoulders and ever since he joined the army he had been growing his first beard, which to his surprise came in much thicker and far more red than he’d imagined. He had been told he needed the beard by his commander; Cormac. “Yes, you’re built like a bear and share not only its size but its strength too, still, that face of yours is far too friendly and your nature is sweet as a kitten… grow a beard Lucan.”

Lucan took all the advice he received quickly to heart, especially when it came from such a well seasoned warrior as Cormac, who had fought many a battle and wore a scar to tell the tale of each. In that world Lucan was quite out of place and never was there time to catch ones breath. War raged on all throughout the land and Cormac’s Battalion got sent to and fro, to bring the fight to the kings enemies. Though his mother had stashed him away from the war and its armies, always in search for able bodies to fight the fight, still they had found him working tirelessly on his farm. As his mothers frightened tears streamed down her face Lucan smiled at her gently and bid her farewell. It had all proved quite an adventure, as he had hoped.