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Mr. Kogoki


Lived in Era 23 and got 0 heir(s) .

A dark and stormy night is where this story begins. The Gynkali family was a trader clan by profession. Not the richest of the clans but not among the forgotten. The caravan was in the mountains getting a head start on their year to make up for a little shortage last year. Rain was falling lightly and rays of light from the moon pierced the clouds. The elders and leaders were gathered to decide which path to take. The north pass would open soon, but if they got there to early they would just have to sit and wait. The cargo of furs would sell well in the cold towns that lined the valleys, but there was no guarantee that the farmers would have money to buy enough of their cargo to make it worthwhile. Klevti in the east would trade the furs for precious spices that could be sold in the ports. This was the road that was chosen the next day. After a long ride of three days the weary travelers got their first view of Klevti on the trip. A widespread city that lined the Yrenjok River, it supported a big market and diverse trade.

In the city there was also a young couple with their newborn baby. The father, Kojino, ran a clothing shop selling regular peasant garments to the simple and elegant but expensive silk attire. Money to buy such starting materials came from an inheritance sum from his deceased parents that died of smallpox a year before. The shop was along the main road that ran from the East gate all through the market to the West gate. From its position he could buy and sell to the traders before anyone else got a chance to look at theirs wares. Today he would remember as a step to the fortune of his descendants. The traders carried furs from the western plains and the Roukiri Sea. With them came mink, leather, and bolts of silk and rare beaver fur from the southern swamps. After a day of bargaining he came back to his shop with a large inventory of material that he could use for custom clothing that paid for more in the city market.

The time is now ten years from Kojino’s bargain with the traders. The inventory of raw material sold for almost six fold what he paid for it making him quite rich. With the money he was able to hire others and expand his trade. Now he was the head of a network of stores that reached to the foothills of the Ditrol Mountains in the Far East to the sea in west. His son now twelve worked with his father learning the trade and how to manage the business. The child was I, Kogoki. With My father I learned many things; reading, writing, arithmetic and culture were among the subjects that I studied as a child.

The year was 1082 KE, five years later, when my father became ill with smallpox. The healer mages said that it was contained. I came in after a business transaction with some merchants (completely different then traders just for the record) two months later when I was given the news that my father was dead. He had not been killed by the smallpox that had healed. He had been traveling between two of our distant outpost of trade when a riot had attacked the caravan. They thought that he had cheated their city when he had only given them some gold plus the supplies the city bought. The news was heavy on everybody, me, my mother, and my younger brother, 15, along with everybody that had known him. He had been an honorable man that took as much as he could with out hurting whoever he traded with. This story is not about him however.

Rage was the only emotion that came to mind for far too long a time. It grew to the point where I gave control of the family business to my brother so that I could join the army. It had become my idea at the time to become part of the institution that fought those that killed my father. I went to the city barracks to join. The man at the desk had very clearly gotten little sleep in the last few days. He jumped up and started to yell, fist it was low and then it started to grow. He began to sing. It was a happy tune that drew quite a bit of attention. After he had gotten a replacement the man in charge of the barrack gave me my schedule and a bunk with the rest of the recruits. The next few weeks passed quickly. It was a good feeling to be judged for what you did not for who you were before. I was called Weasel by the men. The name came from my fighting style of using speed more than strength to defeat my enemies. It was six months before the barracks were emptied for battle. The fight was to the west at the foothills of the mountains. Our regiment joined others to fight the core of another army. It came from that south they say. A country so hot they said that water would evaporate before it reached your lips. How anyone could live in such a place was beyond my comprehension.

All I knew of them for the next two weeks were their numbers and strength. My friends from the barracks were separated from me under different commanders. We saw each other now and then but it was a fleeting glance with no time for words. Each day sapped my strength and resolve until at the last day all I cared about was surviving without knowing who exactly I was fighting for. At noon on that day we fought them back over a hill only to be rained down upon with arrows. It had been an ambush the men around me wanted to flee. Then there was a change. I no longer felt defeated. I felt exhilarated. I could feel the blood pumping in my ears and the din of battle dimmed in my mind. Then I saw what had happened clearly for the first time that day. We had done well. The reason we had been under a volley was because we had done so well. We had actually pushed them back to their camp.

So I ran up that hill to see that they hadn’t run far only around three-hundred yards. There on the top of that hilltop I exclaimed “WE HAVE FOUGHT THEM BACK! WE WILL HOLD THEM BACK! FOR OUR WIVES CHILDREN AND FAMILIES! FOR THE CHANCE TO FIGHT AGIAIN! OATHS YOU HAVE TAKEN FULLFILL THEM ALL, FOR LORD AND LAND. CHARGE!!!!!!!!!!” The din of battle became a roar as the 4000 troops charged that hill. I shouted commands to the cavalry to sweep right and then in right past the barricade to clear the way behind it. I ran with the front line to open the barricade and make way for the men to enter the encampment. Men fell on either side shot down by bows and crossbows or catapults fired from safety behind the enemy wall. Just as we reached the barricade the cavalry swept the opposing infantry aside to let us pass. It was action reaction, so many people so close allowed no time for thinking. I fought mercilessly until an arrow pierced my shoulder and I was taken off the battlefield to be tended to. The fight slowed in my ears until all went black.

I woke back in Klevti Hospital called Huyresa’s. It took me a while or at least it felt like a while to remember how I got here. Of course I couldn’t remember how I got here; but I remember why I was there when I tried to sit up. A searing pain shot through my shoulder. A nurse came over and pushed me back into bed. She handed me a glass of tonic. It tasted bile but eased the pain.

I spent around a month in the hospital healing from my many wounds. The arrow had gone all the way through. Although it would heal it would never be as strong or fast as it had been. After I had been home at home for a week the military board contacted me. I thought I was going to be kicked out of the core; I had disobeyed a direct order when I attacked the opposition’s camp. Although we won I had still been extremely disobedient. It was a gloomy day when I knocked on my commanding officer office door. The door was open and I was asked to enter. The general was smiling as he looked at me with his hands folded in my lap. He congratulated me to my astonishment for my quick thinking and intellect to attack the enemy that fateful day. He promoted me to captian and put a regiment under my command. He said that if all his officers were as I am then we would lose much less men in future battles.

Other battles arose in the future but none were as influential to me as that battle. Over the years I became higher rank and obtained more land. But in the end I remember these years as the start of my family.



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