Backstory Snipet

This is the same one that was on the previous thread, just now here for easy access reasons.

What does it mean to be alive? The thought assailed him making it one of the many reasons his knees shook with such vigor. The chill in the air was one that would make most men huddle in layered clothing and still feel the bite of the wind. Is it living just to struggle against death? He was numbed to the chill however, he had stopped caring about it hours ago. His gaze was locked on three mounds of dirt, each of them with a small trinket placed on top. Was there really no purpose for them? Standing alone in this place, a small hill just outside of town. A shovel lay nearby, the digging had been hard with a layer of snow a foot deep and even the dirt had seemed hard as ice. Were they really just born to die like this? He stood for a few more minutes staring at the graves of what had been his friends just a few hours before. They were just a bunch of dumb kids, the realization had come much too late and had lost most of them their lives.

They had grown up together. The outcasts for whatever reasons. None of them asked each other and none of them wanted to be asked. When one of them overheard of a lucrative job happening by one of the larger gangs in the area and it sounded simple enough. There was going to be a time when a local jewelry shop would be purposefully unwatched. The right hands paid so guards would look away, a backdoor carelessly left unlocked. It had all seemed so simple. They would slip in robbing the place a short time before the larger gang was said to arrive. There would be nothing to trace it back to them and it would allow them to get ahead for once rather than simply living off a pocketed apple or two. That’s how things were supposed to go at least.

It’s hard to say when the plan started falling apart as it was a collection of minor things happening one after another. Tools forgotten, people late, the snow deeper than had been expected… It had just seemed that the universe was fighting against them going, and had they been smarter they would have called it off. Thinking back on it it’s quite easy to see the signs, when something sounds too good to be true that’s because it usually is. If such a big lucrative job was going on it would have been more quiet, and they heard about it in more than one place. It only made sense that others would have heard about it too, but they were still surprised when they ran into another group of thieves in the night.

Both sides panicked and began to lash out at each other. As a group they had never had serious needs for the daggers they held under cloaks. It was all just for intimidation, a blade to scare someone in the right place could end up saving lives. Of the thief and the victim. But when faced with that group who had eyes that shown the willingness to kill, well they didn't stand much of a chance. It was luck, speed, and skill that made him able to escape the scuffle. He had assumed everyone else was running too, it only made sense. They were not a group of killers and the others were much more trained. There was little reason to fight. It turned out that either the rest of his group didn't see that way or just couldn't get away. He never got a chance to ask them himself.

He returned a few minutes later after finding nobody following him to be assailed with the vision of four corpses in the snow. The rest after that was almost a blur. By the time he knew what he was really doing he had dragged his three friends to a quiet location. Many people die in this world without ever having a true moment of rest… maybe in death they could finally be at peace. He wasn't going to just leave them there, if others found them they would be dragged off to the fires. If they were burned it would be like they were never even there. He began to dig uncaring of the cold around him.

He had watched them for a while now. They all were gone leaving him alone again. Memories flashed before him as he made no real effort to push them away. They had each been there for him when it mattered and he hoped that this was enough on his part. He knew tears were customary at the passing of friends but he just couldn’t find it in him to cry. It might have been the lack of energy, that surely had something to do with it. But most of all it was a feeling that this was the true face of the world. To die with no purpose. Turning away from the graves he pulled his scarf up against the chill for the first time in hours. He thought for a long moment before finally saying, “I’m sorry… But I can't stop moving here. I’m betting that there’s some point to all this…” The alternative was too scary to admit, “I’ll be back one day… once I have found the answers. I can't die yet…” With that he began to push his way through the ever thickening layer of snow.