This story comes from when the Calebii were storming the wall two years ago. It was a few days into their siege, they had beaten us back to the wall and we settled into the routine that was to follow. They advanced, they climbed the wall, and we fought them back. I do not generally remember the events of battles, just the battles themselves, if you know what I mean. When I get into the swing of things my mind switches off and instinct takes over, I do not remember what I do. This story is different, however.
The Celebii attacks were somewhat more...determined, perhaps fierce? I cannot think of a word to describe it, but they managed to form a fighting wedge on the wall, damn those bastards were tough, but there was one who stood a good eight or so inches taller than I and he carried two short swords. And any who opposed him fell to his blades. It was because of him that the Calebii were gaining ground. I am not saying anything about those at my side, but the Armengarians were no match for him, and in hindsight, neither was I.
I leapt forward to face him, alone. He turned to face me, and smiled. I took no notice, it is ploy to anger your opponent. I should know, I've done it before and it has saved me a lot of time and sweat. Anyway I'm veering away from my story. He smiled, I ignored, and we fought.
The fight seemed to last forever and I noticed two things. One; I was tiring, and two; he was not. By that time I had dragged my sword clear, so that I could even things up a bit. Here is where things went differently. One of his blades went for a disemboweling strike, but at the last moment, I barely managed a parry. Well I didn't parry, I got the flat of his blade to the stomach. Winded, I fell to one knee, and asked for forgiveness from my Ancestors. This is where things went odd. Instead of going for that fatal blow, he stood back and gave me a chance to gain my breath back, in fact he said to me that I could take as long as I needed.
I stood there panting, staring at him, and I realized that I was to die here, unless I took drastic action. "You're different! What are you doing here?" He asked.
The question took me aback, and then I answered.
"I am just an old man standing on a wall!"
"An old man? Standing..."
His thought was cut short, as I drove my hammer through his skull. He didn't die, his eyes, his shocked eyes stared at me. Disbelief crossed his face. Not wanting to look at him further, I pushed the body back over the wall onto the advancing Calebii.
When the battle was over, Chareos walked over to me.
"So old man? What was that all about?" Chareos asked.
"I gave him time to compose himself, before he met his Ancestors!"
Chareos chuckled, as we walked away toward the mess. The last thing I remember of that was...
"So Chareos, what were you and Amos doing that night down into the plateau?"
And that is my story.