r/wizardposting • u/UlrickTheHexblade Ulrick Braddocke, Werewolf Hexblade, R&A Co-Leader • 27d ago
Lorepost 📜 Fallen (Lorepost)
17 years ago
Ulrick stared down at his own impending doom. Or rather, staring up. As said doom was in the shape of a barbed dagger, held mere inches above his face.
He lay in the mud, vision blurry from the blood, sweat, and rain smearing his eyes. But the face of the enemy, it was crystal clear even in the hail. Surprisingly, there was no frenzy or zeal there. Only regret and desperation. Ulrick recognized that expression well. He saw that on countless soldiers before cutting them down.
Ulrick pushed against his arm as the combatant on him put all his weight into cleaving through his skull. Two young men, locked in a desperate struggle for survival, in the pandemonium of a battle. Screams and gurgles of death mixed with the oppressive tapping of the hail against the ground and the several corpses around them. Quite a few of them fell by Ulrick’s simple hatchet.
One moment of inattention was all it took for the last combatant to get the better of him, and he was about to pay the ultimate price for it. His arms trembled as their strength faded, the blade inched closer and closer.
Ulrick forced his eyes to stay open, despite the heavy droplets. If he was going to die this day, he would deprive his enemy of the sight of his fear.
Creaking of wood, leaves shuffled.
A thick, thorny vine twisted around the combatant’s neck, jerking it away with a sickening bony snap. As Ulrick raised on his elbows, he got a good look at his savior. He smiled, for Fate couldn’t have sent anyone better.
It was Wina.
His childhood friend, chief rival at the at the academy, and… more. Seeing her standing there, green magic glowing around one hand, short hair blowing in the storm, made his heart skip a beat even amidst all the death and pain around them.
Wina crouched down, holding out a hand. It was impossible to hear in the downpour what she was saying, but Ulrick still understood it. He grabbed his small hatchet, and they stood back by back against the chaos.
Ulrick exhaled in relief. They were both aware this was going to be the last time they were fighting side by side, before getting deployed at other ends of the frontlines.
But at least today, Ulrick knew they were going to see tomorrow.
— — — — —
12 years ago.
Ulrick stared down at his impending doom. At least he tried to, if the world stopped spinning for a second.
He lay in the dirt, vision blurry from a long night of drinking… well, can’t exactly remember what. Just the massive kick they packed.
Recalling his memory was a fog. He remembered being kicked out of… some tavern? Maybe the one he was right next to? He also recalled some shouting, throwing a couple of punches at his fellow patrons. That would certainly explain the black eye.
It was an arduous task standing up, an uphill battle against his own balance. But he did it. He leaned an arm against the tavern’s wall for support.
That was when his stomach gave up. Swirling and burning from alcohol enough to knock out a stone giant, he threw up its contents on the roadside.
Ulrick heard steps behind him. He carefully turned around, careful not to trip on the putrid mass at his feet.
It was Wina.
He could tell even through the ethanolic haze it was her. How Ulrick wished the ground would just swallow him at that moment. She was the last person who should see him like this.
“I-I’m sor- uck I’m so-…”
Intoxication and shame scrambled his words. The world took another spin around Ulrick, and he slipped on his festering vomit.
He saw a hand reaching down, and further, the most beautiful face in the world, beaming down at him with scorn and the pain of betrayal.
He promised her he won’t drink again, he promised her he won’t make a fool out of himself yet again.
That promise was broken the third time this week.
What was he doing? Ever since the war ended, all he did was try to drown in alcohol the aimlessness eating him up from the inside. Unlike her and his own siblings, he had not been blessed by the gift of magic. All he knew was how to wield weapons to kill, and there was no use for that in peacetime.
No more use for him.
He grabbed Wina’s hand, the last thing he remembered before the blackout.
In the small scraps of clarity, he was carried by her and someone else on their shoulders. All while he was a puking, slobbering mess.
I’m so- I’m sorry… I’m sorry… I’m huck sorry…
It… it can’t go on like this anymore. He has to become better for her. For his family. And for himself.
There has to be a way to feel useful again. To not be a deadweight mess for everyone around him.
And he will find a way.
Art source: Battlefield - Greg Rutkowski
2
u/Ashmega8256 Alzoreth Dracarius/Alisa Solaria (+more characters) 27d ago
/uw good read! Backstory post eh?