Information

Cerwin has a minion!

Minion the Sephirim

Cerwin
Legacy Name: Cerwin

The

Angelic Legeica
Owner:

Amy

Age: 12 years, 5 months, 5 days

Born: November 14th, 2011

Adopted: 12 years, 5 months, 5 days ago

Adopted: November 14th, 2011

Statistics

Level: 52
Strength: 63
Defense: 47
Speed: 33
Health: 62
HP: 62/62
Intelligence: 32
Books Read: 32
Food Eaten: 170
Job: Groomer

Cerwin

Full title: Prince Cerwin son of Haimmon Flambard of Voreder

pronounced: [Sir][win]

It was never supposed to have been this way.

His hair was still slick from his bath and his wet clothes hung about him. They dripped on the hay ridden floor with every step. His bath this morning was one of the long ones and he had chosen to soak rather than take part in the supposed daily ritual of walking the guards along the castle grounds. Which he now obviously whole heartily regret as he sat hunched against the splintering barn wall. He had been bathing carelessly, as they waited just outside the kingdom gates.

He crept low to the other wall. Feeling foolish and childlike as he leaned closer to the large boarded window. Listening for the tread of enemy footsteps.

Hearing nothing, he slid down the wooden wall and leaned against it. When had they decided to take action? The king had only just left not three days ago, there must be spies within the castle. Cerwin shook his head and let out a small moan. With the king gone, the advisers would know that only he would be left in charge, the only son of King Haimmon Flambard of Voreder. Growing up as the a war lords son was difficult for Cerwin. He had taken to his mothers side, more interested in the safe studies of nature and magic and too much of a visionary to be taught how to wield a sword. Now his, no, his fathers kingdom was under siege and all he could do was hide in this pathetic barn.

A scream rang out in the distance and sounds of heavy footsteps pounded in his direction. There was muffled cries and suddenly he could hear the sounds of fighting from outside the windows of the barn. His breath quickened and his heartbeat pounded in his ears. Even in the commotion he kept one ear cocked towards the castle gates, hoping and praying to hear the sounds of trumpets signifying the kings return. Dread, however, was setting in as he knew his father was not to return until a weeks time. Footsteps grew closer to the barn walls and now Cerwin could hear the voices more clearly whispering of death and destruction. Oh how he wished to be held by his mother and have her shaky voice sing him to sleep, everything would be alright then.

In his unease, he tugged at his simple garments. Wishing that he was wearing something fancier maybe with gold cuff links so that he would maybe be recognizable as royalty. As the barn doors rattled, Cerwin stood up quickly and realized what a vain thought that was. He was a foolish and conceited boy and now he was going to die here. Not worth much to his father or the kingdom. The words of the king echoed in his head. He was a hopeless boy with no path to greatness.

More footsteps approached and the barn doors rattled as they were tested again. Voices picked up into shouting. The world around him was filled with wails of the dying and screams of the living. The doors rattled a third time, but still remained closed, the heavy wooden latch still down in it's locked position. Silence again as those on the outside debated what to do. Cerwin, in a moment of determination, clenched his fists and walked toward the center of the musty barn. His eyes locked on the door as beads of sweat poured from his body. His heartbeat hastened, but for once in his very short life he was standing up with no intention of hiding behind his mother.