HOME | DD

Description

“Tsk.”

Andros narrowed his eyes, feeling a sharp sting as sweat slid into his raw wounds. It had been nearly a week since the fight with his elder sister had come to a close and he had fled the country, but the marks that she had carved into his flesh burned every time he moved. It had been a close fight, one that he should have lost. But he had to win it.

The cost had been more than he wanted, but it was the only way. He’d never have a home there anymore. No one would come to avenge him if he died.

This was now his home. Home for Andros Rhodon, formerly Canvallio. Home for Andros Rhodon, murderer.

In the midst of his depressing thoughts, a flash of sunlight on white paper caught his eye.

Absently, he moved over to the side of the street, letting the chatter of vendors wash over him as he grabbed the newspaper with one gauntleted fist, green eyes scanning the headline and his frown deepening with every word read. Unfamiliar fear and very familiar anger washed over him as he roughly tossed the paper back into the stand, the woman in charge verbally berating him as he turned away.

This was not good.

He stomped his way through the crowd, his great bulk and impressive collection of weaponry parting the people that stood before him. A stormy expression crossed his scarred features as he made up his mind, the burning sweat and heat dragging his mind to the only option that made sense.

The Corsairs must stay- Regardless of their sins. Otherwise…

He’d be next.
---

As Andros makes his less-than-triumphant return to Amedra, he is greeted by news of the ongoing conflict between the supposedly loyal Corsairs and the unhappy rebels-- Against his better judgement, he supports the continued trust of the loyalist Corsairs. He'll need fellow non-natives to draw the new king's ire.

NOW EDITED

Description

“Tsk.”

Andros narrowed his eyes, feeling a sharp sting as sweat slid into his raw wounds. It had been nearly a week since the fight with his elder sister had come to a close and he had fled the country, but the marks that she had carved into his flesh burned every time he moved. It had been a close fight, one that he should have lost. But he had to win it.

The cost had been more than he wanted, but it was the only way. He’d never have a home there anymore. No one would come to avenge him if he died.

This was now his home. Home for Andros Rhodon, formerly Canvallio. Home for Andros Rhodon, murderer.

In the midst of his depressing thoughts, a flash of sunlight on white paper caught his eye.

Absently, he moved over to the side of the street, letting the chatter of vendors wash over him as he grabbed the newspaper with one gauntleted fist, green eyes scanning the headline and his frown deepening with every word read. Unfamiliar fear and very familiar anger washed over him as he roughly tossed the paper back into the stand, the woman in charge verbally berating him as he turned away.

This was not good.

He stomped his way through the crowd, his great bulk and impressive collection of weaponry parting the people that stood before him. A stormy expression crossed his scarred features as he made up his mind, the burning sweat and heat dragging his mind to the only option that made sense.

The Corsairs must stay- Regardless of their sins. Otherwise…

He’d be next.
---

As Andros makes his less-than-triumphant return to Amedra, he is greeted by news of the ongoing conflict between the supposedly loyal Corsairs and the unhappy rebels-- Against his better judgement, he supports the continued trust of the loyalist Corsairs. He'll need fellow non-natives to draw the new king's ire.

NOW EDITED