| Author | Message | ||
     LtMaj Prescot |
“Here are the things you requested transferred milord,” the page said bowing in the doorway to Prescot’s temporary quarters. “Thine speed is noted young squire. Now be off with thee, I have business to attend to soon,” Prescot replied waving him away with his hand as he grabbed the box and drug it into his room. ‘If I’m going to be here for a while, I might as well get this place in order,’ Prescot thought to himself as he dragged the chest and finally let it go with a loud THUD, as the elevated end falls to the floor. After opening the top and diving in, Prescot began setting the things he had brought over aside. A picture of his father and mother went near the door. The clothing went in the proper place, including a very ornate set of chainmail he wore when he could. After most everything was stashed away he finally came across something he hadn’t seen in a while. It was a beautifully encrusted sword, very heavy and of the finest craftsmanship one can buy in all of the Camelyian Empire. Reaching down into the box again, Prescot pulled out what came with the sword, a fine hardwood wall mount for the sword. Tossing the mount on his bed Prescot stared at the sword for a while before standing up fully. With a hard thrust outward Prescot sliced through the air. Pulling back quickly to a defensive stance, he then with uncanny speed moved against the invisible defender, slashing several times at his foe. Prescot knew that he should have fought Serrold with all of his ability and strength, but then it would not have been fair to him. Not that it mattered much anymore. Stopping suddenly, Prescot brought the blade up to his face. The hilt was directly in front of his eyes, the blade flat with his forehead pointing straight up towards the ceiling. In the hilt of the blade in Old Camelyian lettering was the stardate in which he had been knighted. In a moment of reflection Prescot wondered what he might be doing, had he not dropped everything and enrolled in Starfleet Academy. He figured that he would still be at the Royal Castle. While being able to guard such a prestigious place was considered a high honor, Prescot had no love for it at the time. ‘What excitement is there in guarding THE most heavily defended Castle on the most reinforced planet in the Empire?’ had been his thoughts at the time, and still were today. Prescot had never thought that Starfleet would be a viable path for him. He had thought that he could scare his father into removing the recommendation to keep him at the castle. “For your own protection,” he muttered. Prescot thought that he would end up being there for a year or two tops before his father would relent. But he did not.. In retrospect now, it was the best decision he ever made. He was fighting in a cataclysmic conflict. One that demanded epic ballads and stories to be written about once they were won. He was up against a ruthless enemy that had zero mercy for those that defied them. He was surrounded by comrades that fought for their very lives with all of their soul and being. What more could a knight ask for in life?? Not thinking of anything off the top of his head Prescot chuckled to himself as he walked back to the far wall of his room. Carefully he set up the hardwood sword stand and then placed the ornate sword in its rightful place. Falling onto his bed, Jake closed his eyes and laughed to himself softly. The funny thought was, he had been very close after graduating the academy to resigning his commission. “What a fool I would have been,” he muttered to himself as he drifted off to sleep. |