Flashback Those were the days my freind

[Gile Askara]

Gile Askara Summer 32 512 Av Don't be an Askara, what a miserable saying in kenash, it was simply an unfair generalization the other clans had made to slight their betters, it was no rumor after all that the other clans were of course jealous of the Askaran tobacco, it simply had no peer. Gile knew it, the rest of the Askara family knew it, everyone in Kenash knew it no matter how much they wanted to deny it. It was INFURIATING just thinking about it made Gile fume sitting in his fathers home Gile's back crawled as he got out of bed, he'd been dreaming again, he hated dreaming his dreams were never pleasant, always reminders of that which he didn't or couldn't have. Waking up irritated was further infuriating he didn't want to wake up in a foul mood yet here he was, wide awake before the sun rose in his room unable to go back to sleep because his rest had been ruined by the damnable opinions of the other dynasties. "Don't be a petchin Askara, I'll show them whose a petchin Akara, I'll show them well." Wrapping his cloak around him and setting out Gile marched to the nearest moonlit beach still infuriated. Fuming the entire way Gile Drew forth his rapier immediately and assumed a stance holding the blade stiff before him. He relished in the blade it was long it was sharp and it was heavy. Growling Gile thrust the sword once imagining in his head the faces of the men in his dreams who dared to insult him and his family, decrying the Askara for odd traditions. Their was nothing wring with the Askara traditions, The Askara tradition was an act of veneration an act of remembrance to it's founder. Why let the worries of running the Dynasty on one head when a strong companion behind you could ensure your power. People fear things they can't understand. "Hah!" Gile thrust his blade again, his rapier whistling as it struck at the heart of an invisible foe. "They are right to fear us, Don't be a petchin Askara, I Am an Askara, and damn proud of it! HAH!" Again his blade danced angrily through the air in Giles left hand. Sure one cannot slice off a hand with a rapier, but he could pierce a lung destroy a heart with good aim. The askara family was one of refinement and art, his weapon followed suit as such he chose a weapon not designed for barbaric war, but for the refined dueling and killing of foes. In his family name he'd slay as many people who would insult his or his families honor. Willing his breath to calm Gile focused, he searched for the invisible foe before him, he had many faces, he was the bartender on the boardwalk, he was the freeborn that sold tobacco, he was the slave that gave people funny looks. But the one thing each face had in common was that they all shared the same fate. They would each be skewered by his blade if they were to challenge him, anyone who would bring dishonor upon the Askara would suffer. Smiling Gile assumed the position he knew, standing sideways to his opponent left shoulder forward with his left hand holding forth his weapon. he was narrow and hard to hit from such an angle. Then he thrust the sword aiming for his opponents torso, it was cocky and foolish to aim for the head, it was a smaller target and while satisfying to rend an opponents face, the chance to pierce heart or lung simply felt better, if not slightly less satisfying. He was still made but he felt he had vented some of his anger out now that he was getting back at the faces that haunted his dreams.