Erelmach's Prime

"Form up! Go again!" the instructor's command rang out in the brutal afternoon sun that tortured the guards during their training regiments daily. 3 evaluated the men and women he was training with, and noted the common signs of heat exhaustion and dehydration among some of them. "Instructor, it would be most prudent of you to allow them a moment's respite for water and shade. I fear some of them may suffer an extended malaise if they are pushed much harder." The guards grimaced, after 3 years of training alongside them they knew he meant nothing by it - however 3 did not experience the sensations of hunger, thirst, sweat, heat or dehydration, and his training partners couldn't help but resent him for his resilience on days like today.

The corners of the instructor's mouth turned up in a barely concealed grin before he barked out, "You hear that maggots?! 3 here thinks you've hit your limit for the day. Let none say I'm not a fair man, we'll go for one more bout and then you sorry lot can take rest until your shifts begin! GO!" Two spear men with broad rounded shields advanced quickly on 3, with two more attackers close behind carrying short blades ready to slip in whatever gaps the forward fighters could create. 3 gripped the handle of his massive shield, keeping his hammer fixed in it's sling. The spears began harrying him from the front - with no hope of getting past his tower shield, they merely tried to keep his focus. As he deflected their thrusts with ease, the rear fighters flanked him to either side and tried to slip blades in the joints of his armor. Expecting something like this, he slanted his shield allowing one of the spears to slip through his defense. The soldier smirked, thinking he had finally found an opening - only to see 3's large metal hand close over the shaft of his spear, lurching him forward with incredible force and sending him barreling into the woman who was aiming a short sword for what would have been a vital point on any other target. The two were sent crashing to the ground in a tangle as 3 pivoted in a smooth motion to face the other two. Keeping his shield between himself and the smaller soldier with a pair of hooked daggers, he watched the remaining spear man carefully. 3 had learned to read a fighter's intent by studying their eyes - and in the instant he saw his eyes widen he released the grip on his shield and grabbed the spear with both hands. With a firm step forward he twisted the spear in a sharp jerking motion - wrenching it from the soldier's hands and in a rapid twirling motion placing the point of the spear on the ground and splitting the weapon in half with a swift forward kick. As he spun to reclaim his shield, the final fighter lunged forward with their daggers, seemingly aiming for a vital point above the shoulders. 3 raised his arms into a cross guard, and noticed his mistake too late as his opponent feinted for a high attack and quickly pivoted and stabbed downward toward a knee joint, which would render him immobile. At the last minute, 3 managed to sweep his expose leg backwards, throwing himself into a tumble and rolling over the top of his shield - closing his grip around the guard and returning to his field with it firmly interposed between himself and his attacker.

"Enough! We'll call it there for the day you filthy sods, go clean yourselves up and get some rest." after healing the minor scrapes and bruises his training partners incurred during the bout like he always did, 3 began replacing the equipment on the racks. The instructor strode over to him, and leaned an elbow on the top of the rack. He let out a low chuckle and shook his head "Three years you've been training with my fighters 3. You do understand sooner or later you're going to have to hit them right?"

"With all due respect Captain, I see no purpose in wounding loyal sons and daughters of Seth, to say nothing of the vital service they perform for his Radiance and the good people of the capital." This conversation had played out numerous times before. When 3 was first taken into training with the palace guard, it was had almost daily, until eventually the bullish instructor finally began to realize he would not be moved on the subject.

"Well I have to try, just because we've been in a time of peace these last few years doesn't mean the day won't come that you need to be ready to fight. You're Prince Kassim's dedicated guardian after all, and people worry that if our princeling is in danger - you won't be able to...'get the job done' you know?"

"I'm sure he understands PERFECTLY well Captain," Erelmach interjected, having made his way down onto the training field. "3 assesses danger differently than you or I, but in mortal peril - I am confident that he will carry out his duty without fail. Isn't that right my boy?" He leveled his gaze on 3 and let the moment sit. Despite the confidence in his voice, 3 could read concern in the lines at the edges of his father's eyes. In truth, violence did not come naturally to 3 like it did to his eldest brother - and although he dare not admit it aloud - he sometimes worried that perhaps he would let his father down in his charge.

"I, ahem - it is just that...well-" 3 began to stammer when he was cut off by the sound of bells ringing. These were not the bells of the Imperial Cathedral, nor were they the bells that signaled meal time for the staff. That could only mean -

"Intruders! Intruders! The palace is under attack!" Voices took up the alarm from all directions. A sergeant in the palace guard sprinted up to the captain and struck a hasty salute.

"Captain! Intruders in the west wing, they were moving toward the royal quarters. The prince is in danger! Captain Desmon is already headed that way with a detachment but they may need reinforcements." The captain was already strapping on some of the spare gear from the rack, and unlimbering his sword from its scabbard.

"Run to the south barracks, rally them and proceed around the western side of the palace-" The captain continued barking his orders, though his voice sounded further and further away, he exchanged brief words with Erelmach who nodded and turned and spoke to 3. Something about standing down to let the soldiers handle the incident as they were better prepared for this type of event. The world and all of their commands fell away as a single thought crystallized in 3's mind. The prince is in danger. In a blur of movement, 3 snatched his shield from the rack and began hurtling in the direction of the palace - his hammer still slung at his hip. He heard the captain and his father calling after him, he should be heeding them - it was the proper thing to do - but he could think only of his charge, Kassim needed protection.

The sounds of battle rang out from all directions as he continued to sprint in the direction of the west wing. He had walked patrol there over a thousand times, and played Kassim's favorite game "hide and seek" there a thousand more. As he entered the throne room, his footfalls were unmistakable as they echoed off the high stone walls. Just as he passed the throne he heard a small voice cry out "Clink Clank!" and he froze in his tracks. Turning in the direction of the voice he saw the small huddle form of the prince, hiding behind his father's throne - tears streaking his face. The relief he felt was palpable, at least he had made it here in time. He knelt down next to Kassim and placed a hand on has shoulder just as he had at their first meeting 3 years ago. "Fear not my prince, I will protect you." he said as softly as his metallic voice would allow.

"I wouldn't be so sure about that you hunk of scrap." a gruff voice called out from the western entrance. 3 jolted to his feet, and immediately took in his surroundings. there were four entrances to the throne room, three attackers accompanied the figure that had called out to him from the corner. With more coming in from the North and South entrances, he tried to assess the likelihood that he could carry the prince and escape unscathed. The chances were grim, and he did not relish the idea of exposing his charge to that kind of risk.

"We'll be taking the little princeling now, I'd advise you to stand aside." He had continued speaking, but again the words started to drift away, 3 felt something swelling inside of him as he looked from the attackers to the prince, his friend these last 3 years. He read fear etched in every feature of Kassim's face, and the attacker's words echoed in his mind

"We'll be taking the little princeling."

3 looked one final time to the young prince, and unbuckled his cloak of office - casting it over his small form - he shouldn't have to see this. Standing over his charge, 3 felt his fist close around the haft of his war hammer as he pulled it from it's sling. The words came almost unbidden, and each struck with the measured force of a forge hammer.

"No. You. Will. Not." and 3 raised his shield.