Grey skinned, quiet, well-mannered and strong willed. His piercing gaze wins people over easily, but he has another, more primal and natural side that he would rather others not see.
It was a lonely evening in the borderlands of the kingdom when William Comptin lost his life. He wasn’t exactly sure where he was going, but it was the general direction of home towards his wife and kids. After traveling for many hours he could see a cozy blue house off in the distance with some faint light pouring through the window to indicate someone was home. He knew he should press on, but the hunger in his belly combined with the innocent look of the house convinced him to seek shelter for the night.
Will had been a captain in the King’s Army throughout the rebellion, but now he was a deserter. He’d thought that serving in the kings Army would be nothing but glory and good times, but he could not wash the death off his hands or get the horrors of war out of his mind. The screams of women and children echoed through his memories and haunted his dreams. The final straw came when he was sent to wipe out the fugitives in a village that was believed to be harboring the enemy. Him and a group of 12 men under his command crept towards what looked to be a sparsely populated town under the cover of darkness. It should have been an easy mission. They should have been able to pick each house off one by one until they found where the fugitives were hiding so they could deal with them. It turned out that the village only looked to be sparsely populated. When they were Only a few yards off from the first house a war horn pierced the night. Although will and his men still had the element of surprise, a bloody battle ensued. Men were cut down left and right. Good men and bad, brothers and foes. After what seemed like hours of battle will noticed that there was no one left to fight. Exhausted he looked around him for his men; the people he had been serving with for years. No one was left standing. Only the howling screams of mothers, wives and children surrounded him. He was numb to his bones, shocked at the carnage around him. Suddenly a young kid jumped at him with a pitchfork. He couldn’t have been more than ten years old. Without thinking, Will easily side stepped him and smashed his skull in with his mace. The boy crumpled beneath the blow and the howling only intensified. He dropped his weapon and fled. Never to return to duty.
To be continued…