Your support makes Blue Moon possible (Patreon)Jared muttered a bit to himself as he hacked his way through the bushes, listening to his comrades laugh and cheer somewhere behind him. Once again they'd all somehow managed to brush off all actual labour onto him while they would just sit on their asses and enjoy their rations before setting up camp. Who was it they always got to get the firewood? Him. Who always had to fill the skins with water? Him. It was the same every time, and though he was sick of it, he seemed to let them do it for some reason. Perhaps it was because he knew that the bunch of them, idiot lunkheads that they were, would probably gang up and horrendously overpower him for no good reason if he should refuse. He hated to admit it, but though he was a fairly skilled fighter, that being the reason he was even on this team to begin with, he did not possess anywhere near the sheer musclemass of his fellow soldiers.
He'd always been of short stature, for one. The others were hardly an inch under six foot two, but he had only barely gotten into the force in the first place with his meager five foot six. Thus, it was quite easy to find ways to topple him. Despite all his training, there was just little he could do to compete with the capacity their size allowed. He would occasionally have to use shortswords where they wielded longswords, for one. It didn't matter how well he did what he did - he was still just the runt, and it was getting irritating.
Brushing some of his curled blonde hair aside, he leaned down next to the lake and began to fill the seven skins with water. It would be heavy to carry back, and he doubted there would be much left in the way of food or ale once he came back to them, but for now he was actually finding himself a little happy to be away from their crude laughter. They were treating this entire thing like it was some kind of rare treat - to get a chance to 'bash some piggarts' as they called it when they were sent to annihilate reported Orc scouts. Didn't they realize it was a war? He too wanted to make them pay for the things they'd done over the time, but that didn't mean he took the same pleasure in the violence as these morons did.
With a sigh, he simply poured water into the third skin, waiting for it to fill up - unaware of the dangers he was currently evading by not being with his companions at the campsite...
He'd always been of short stature, for one. The others were hardly an inch under six foot two, but he had only barely gotten into the force in the first place with his meager five foot six. Thus, it was quite easy to find ways to topple him. Despite all his training, there was just little he could do to compete with the capacity their size allowed. He would occasionally have to use shortswords where they wielded longswords, for one. It didn't matter how well he did what he did - he was still just the runt, and it was getting irritating.
Brushing some of his curled blonde hair aside, he leaned down next to the lake and began to fill the seven skins with water. It would be heavy to carry back, and he doubted there would be much left in the way of food or ale once he came back to them, but for now he was actually finding himself a little happy to be away from their crude laughter. They were treating this entire thing like it was some kind of rare treat - to get a chance to 'bash some piggarts' as they called it when they were sent to annihilate reported Orc scouts. Didn't they realize it was a war? He too wanted to make them pay for the things they'd done over the time, but that didn't mean he took the same pleasure in the violence as these morons did.
With a sigh, he simply poured water into the third skin, waiting for it to fill up - unaware of the dangers he was currently evading by not being with his companions at the campsite...