Quoted By:
SIDESTORY
The Namesake
"Your namesake is back." A man said to another.
"The Prince has returned?" He asked.
"Just a moment ago, Thomas said he saw him and his elf to escort more of those Stonemasons here." The man said as he leaned on a shovel. "Hey Alric, are you sure your namesake knows what he is doing?"
Lindgren was one of those who had recently arrived from Underbelly under the invitation by the Prince. The migrant had quickly found a job as a farmhand for you and while he was a good worker, sometimes he was a bit annoying with his questions.
"I am very sure he knows what he is doing." You replied back to the younger man. "Now keep shovelling the shit, I want it spread before the night falls."
Grumbling, Lindgren continued with the task. You meanwhile stared at the direction where Dawnholme was. You could see the town, scaffoldings around new buildings and the faint traces of smoke rising up into the sky from the many chimneys and worksites. So much has happened since you and your family stood outside the old farmstead Prince Alric calls his home two years ago.
You remember there were only a few of you that had answered the call of Captain Garside. You were amongst those few still loyal to Perenoldes, loyal to the idea of independent and prosperous Alterac. Truth to be told, it had taken a lot for you to uproot your family and make your way here. Daunell had even threatened to divorce you, but in the end she stood there listening to the Prince make his first speech.
Light be damned he had been just a boy. Face of a child, not fully grown up, yet carrying himself with the certainty and poise of a royalty.
And while you had settled down and built a small farm for yourself and your family, the Prince had fought. It was something everyone had been expecting and everyone knew that he would be in good hands. Both Captain Garside and Sergeant… Lieutenant Cromwell had good reputations as skilled fighters. But no one had expected how often the Prince would fight against his enemies.
Kobolds, gnolls, bandits, ogres, orcs, more bandits and gnolls. And more, and more, and more.
Every time the Prince rode out with his soldiers following him, you grew concerned as did the others. Because every time he returned, his armour had a one more dent, his youthful figure seemed to have grown heavier. His responsibilities grew and grew, as did the town around him, yet he always smiled and found time to exchange a few words with everyone whom he met. He even remembered your name and joked about it.
Everyone was glad that your namesake had grown up to be such a good man, but everyone knew that the hard reality would hit back at him some day.
1/2
