THE MOMENT
Warlord Kromseth watched the action with burning bloodlust. A squad of his supposed best warriors were being tossed about like ragdolls by a single man, and there were more like him waiting. It hadn’t even taken the stranger very long to work through the warlord’s fighters, but it was easy to predict how things would go if he let the situation continue. He wasn’t worried about their lives, but good defenders were a resource, and he didn’t need to expend any more.
“ENOUGH!” he shouted. His deep voice echoed around the throne room. His men were well trained and immediately lowered their weapons; the visitor lowered his hands as well and bowed to Kromseth.
The newcomer introduced himself as a simple messenger and challenged the warlord’s men to prove his worth. Kromseth was always eager for violence, and the lean man dressed in scholar robes was easy to misjudge. He brought along a dozen other men who wore more appropriate leather battle gear, and he’d assumed they were the scholar’s guards. It was now apparent the man didn’t need guards, but the warlord reappraised their sinewy, muscular forms. It wasn’t the slim figure of malnourishment he assumed, but deliberate body sculpting.
“You have earned the right to deliver your message,” Kromseth nodded. He wasn’t a brutish Dark Lord like so many others he’d heard about. He would’ve accepted the message regardless, but the messenger insisted on a demonstration.
“I represent Penter, the village in the mountains. My people have long studied the art of war and the discipline of mind solely for the day when they may be put to use. Our elders have noticed your conquest efforts and have decided you are the opportunity we’ve been waiting for to reveal itself.” He gave an extra low bow, then gestured to the dozen men with him. “We are a gift to your empire. Each of them can train a squad of your men in our ways, and I am able to guide you through the mountains to our village safely so that you may meet with our elders.”
“Village in the mountains…,” Kromseth had to think about it. There was only one village that he knew of, and he didn’t bother to learn its name. Everyone who talked about it believed it was a peaceful village of pacifists. He came to believe the village was full of weaklings, not worth the loss of resources the mountain itself was likely to cause. “I understood you were pacifists,” he said. If the village was populated by even a dozen more men like the ones present, he would have suffered a major defeat.
“Generations have been born and died free of conflict for centuries,” the messenger smiled and shook his head. “It is an easy assumption for an outsider to make, and a beneficial one for residents to maintain. We were devoted to our study, after all.”
“Then, my assumptions were sorely mistaken,” Kromseth smiled and stood from his throne to approach the messenger. He was always able to learn from his mistakes. “I look forward to meeting your learned elders and discovering any other false ideas I might be bound to unnecessarily.”
“It will be an honor!”