Tough Enough

Rafka and Clawspur walked down from the Black Citadel to Hero’s Canton, talking between themselves, wondering why they were summoned by legionnaire Dinky to the canteen. The previous night they had helped their commander and centurion out of a jam, and were prepared to go back to the local grind of proving themselves worthy to join the Grim warband as full members.

After clearing the camp that had attacked their two leaders and walking back to help the centurion, he was leaning on a tree watching them. It didn’t look like he needed any help, because he didn’t. ‘Let’s get back to the Citadel you two. Great job,’ he told them as they walked up, patting first Rafka then Clawspur on their backs with his left paw.

‘HEY HEY! HERE THEY COME!’ legionnaire Fyon the Wraith spoke up above the din in the busy canteen. The whole room erupted in cheers and congratulations, thanks, heavy pawed pats on their backs. They stopped and looked around in wonder with half smiles, then at each other and shrugged, turning back toward the table where the centurion and his legionnaires sat.

Rathgaar Firemane sitting next to Dinky with an enormous grin, stood and waved his cub and her friend over to him, squeezing her in a bear hug. ‘I’m very proud of you, Rafka,’ he whispered into her ear. Letting go, he turned to Clawspur, paws on hips. ‘Well you’re not getting a hug, soldier, but great job to you as well, heh,’ he said, still with the huge grin, shaking his paw and slapping the thief on his bicep.

The room erupted in laughter at the elemental’s remark. ‘Alright, alright, everyone quiet down.’ Rathgaar motioned for them to sit, then turned to look at Dinky and nodded toward the room. The legionnaire stood and faced the two thieves, ‘So what did you think when I told you “Welcome to the Bloody Twelfth” back there, huh? Did you expect cake and juice, soldiers?’

Rafka and Clawspur in the Hero’s Canton canteen

The room broke out in laughter again. ‘This is how it works, Rafka and Clawspur. There is no official ceremony. When a legionnaire tells you what I did that is it, you’re officially in the warband. The only other thing to do is for the centurion himself to confirm what I have already told you. In most cases he doesn’t require his confirmation because he trusts his legionnaires. Why, I don’t know.’

Again the canteen burst out in laughter. ‘But,’ he said, holding up a paw, ‘in the case of you two he personally wanted to be the one to approve your acceptance.’ Rafka and Clawspur turned to look at each other with the widest smiles they had ever made, Clawspur backhanded a slap to his friend’s shoulder. Rafka spoke up, ‘But didn’t you already…’

‘While you were fighting the flame legion out there,’ the centurion interrupted, ‘the legionnaire and I watched. We could have helped, but you volunteered. In my warband and battalion, when you say you will do something I expect it to be done, no exceptions. I do not tolerate weakness or incompetence. You two proved you are neither of those in the middle of that firefight.’

‘I told him to get you into the warband while you were still fighting. Because with the exception of legionnaire Shredskin, I have never seen any charr handle both daggers and pistols so adeptly in mid-battle before.’ He stood and smiled, then stepped forward.

‘So if this is what you wanted, welcome to the Grim warband and the Twelfth Battalion, soldiers.’ He saluted the two smartly, and received one in kind from the two newest members. The canteen blew up into cheering and congratulations again for the young soldiers who put their lives on the line to save their legionnaire and centurion.

——

A few hours later when the battalion members who were present were well into their cups, the centurion motioned for Rafka to follow him out the door. He leaned on the rail outside near the target practice area, where she got her start under his supervision what seemed to her so long ago. She stepped up and placed her paws on the railing.

‘You have come a long way in a short time, Rafka. You’re no longer the little cub I was telling stories to in the fahrar, I am proud of you like your sire.’ He sipped his sour mash and watched the business of the Canton going to-and-fro. ‘Can I ask you something, centurion?’ she asked. He nodded, ‘Anything, soldier.’

‘Why did you go out of your way to not let me see you kill anyone?’ Grim looked down at the ground, then turned toward Rafka, ‘Because while you were still a young cub I wanted you to play, have fun, be a cub, not be exposed to the ruthless world this can be so soon. I wasn’t given the chance to grow as a cub should with games and playing, being young.’ He turned to look back out at the Canton.

‘Can I ask why?’ she replied. His eyes hardened; he stood and turned toward his protege, staring her straight in the eye, ‘Because my sire and simba were killed in the middle of the night by the flame legion, when I was several years younger than you were when you began weapon training with me. My sire was always gone, and when he was around he was always drunk. I never knew him.’

——

‘What I remember of my simba, she always protected me and hid me away when he came around drunk. She was a very caring charr, stuck in an unfortunate circumstance with him.’ He drew himself up to his full height as he looked beyond Rafka for a moment, then back down at her.

‘Every time I fight, I’m not only taking my rage out on the flame legion that killed my simba, but I’m killing my worthless sire who treated my simba and I so badly.’ He stopped and drained his glass. ‘Any other questions, soldier?’ he said with steeled gaze and raised eyebrow.

‘I guess not, sir,’ she replied, sad for her centurion and friend. ‘Alright, let’s get in there and finish having fun. This doesn’t happen very often any more, you have to enjoy it when you can. Alright?’ She looked up at him, ‘Yes sir.’

‘Hey…..I said alright? Get that frown off your face little fighter, you just gained a family one hundredfold, and we’re all happy for you.’ She smiled at the mention of his old nickname for her and said again, ‘Alright, sir’. He put his arm around her and walked back into the canteen full of celebrating soldiers, who all cheered when they saw them enter.