A glimpse into the past. A boy becomes a man.
Two men had been fighting all morn to settle a dispute, some grizzled old bastard had challenged a fresh recruit over the disappearance of some peaches. By the custom of their company, it would be settled accordingly.
His red face screwed up with fear and exhaustion, while his fingers turned pale from gripping his axe. The lad faced his foe once more and finally struck; he swung his iron axe high over his shoulder and sunk it into the man's flesh, rooting it in his chest. Men watching roared their enthusiasm; they felt their thirst for blood being quenched. His opponent wailed in agony, blood soaking through the wound as the iron ripped free; releasing the stench of blood and viscera. The young recruit heaved and his stomach shrunk. Kill him, kill him! they chanted, as their eyes were taken with madness. The sounds of the man choking and writhing on the floor were terrible and unnerving. Watching a man’s bulging eyes stare at you as you deliver death, is a horrifying image to the untrained mind. Come on! Finish him! the crowd kept jeering, those bloody minded bastards ached for more. The recruit snapped from his frozen stupor and strode forth towards his squirming victim. Despite a hint of hesitation, the boy leaped and mounted the man’s bleeding gut. Mercy! I beg you! he pleaded with his final breath, for the lad held him by the scruff and began to pummel his head with the poll of his axe. His face caved in and collapsed into naught but a slurry of blood, bone and brains; all that made him human was brutalised into a repulsive mess. The cheering turned into a muttering collection of voices, some approving and others disturbed. The captain of the company took the victor by the arm and hauled him along to the barracks. Welcome to the Rats.
