What happens when you start something and procrastinate

[Syndraell]

"Adventure will not come to those who wait"

A phrase passed down in my family from generation to generation. I always wondered what that phrase meant, and I asked my father about it time and time again. "Ask the ancestors, for only they know the meaning of that phrase" my father would always reply. I wanted to know more, as I was sure that my father did before me. In truth, I regret my curiosity... for reasons I will later explain.

I grew up in a small town called Ainslef, which was always blanketed by snow and ice. I remember bits of living in a kingdom beforehand, but no one would tell me the name of the kingdom, or why I was here. We came here because we originated here, a small band of settlers from a distant land; one of which no one remembers the name or the location of, as it had been wiped from our minds by some force unknown. On a hill in the middle of the village sat a old structure, the chief's home. The chief himself was a recluse, since he barely came out to speak to the village. I once saw him leave in the middle of the night, and I did not see him return for almost two weeks. He did this fairly often... and I let my curiosity get the best of me one night. I followed the chief through the woods on the edge of the town, and I saw something I did not expect. It seems that there were loads of people living in a encampment, mostly men; training to fight. It was at that time I heard a twig snap behind me, and then i felt a sharp blow to the back of my head.

I remember some muddled words, and then being laid on something soft. I regained my consciousness, and I observed my surroundings with a half-closed eye. I was in a well crafted tent, made to ward off the cold of the snow; a few men sat at a table, talking to a man sharpening a large sword. Afraid for my life, I pretended to still be knocked out for a while. In time, it was only me and the man with the large blade in the room. I finally opened my eyes, and saw it was the chief of our village. Unaware of what was going on, I tried being quiet and moved about the tent. The chief was asleep, probably due to the alcohol he consumed during the speech with his friends. People passed the tent fairly often, metal clinking when they moved. These were trained fighters, and I now knew that it was impossible to leave this encampment. All I could do now was wait for the chief to wake up, and explain to me what was going on.

I waited for what seemed like hours, constantly thinking of what was going to happen to me. Was I to be killed for finding out about this, or would I be given a chance to fight for my freedom? Needless to say I wasn't going to go out without a fight. All I could do was wait... Wait for him to tell me everything. As he stirred, I stared him in the eyes from across the tent. I wanted him to be able to read my Intent, that I would rather fight and die than be executed. I wanted to kill to make sure that I would survive. He was the first to break eye contact, looking for a spot of alcohol to quench his thirst. He retrieved a skein of it from his person, and drank from it rather deeply. He then returned his gaze to mine, a different man; one I was now afraid of. He laughed as he saw my tough act fall apart, and tossed me the skein of alcohol. "Drink up. It helps fight the cold" he said to me with a calm, but stern voice. The taste was rather appalling, but in truth it did make me feel warmer. I returned his flask to him, still unsure of it all. He then whistled, and a man in armor brought a roll of fur in with him. "Give it to the boy. He's to be tested tomorrow." He tossed the roll onto me, and It was a lot heavier than expected. As I unrolled it, it contained a leather tunic and a very dull sword. I looked to my chief for answers, and he said the last thing I was expecting to hear.

"The Empire is coming. Prepare yourself for war."

[spoiler]It's not a Revival. There is nothing to Revive. If someone thinks otherwise, PM me and we'll see what happens, Okay?[/spoiler]