Continuing the discussion from Hearthlings Aren’t Afraid:
So quite a bit ago my footman refused to stop fighting a giant zombie far from camp at his own peril and I had to micromanage him pretty hard to keep him alive. In some spare minutes here and there I wrote a story inspired by it - written quickly and sloppily enough that I didn’t even bother to look through the files for proper Stonehearth names and decided to avoid names whatsoever - and then I completely forgot about it until seeing this. Here it is, if anyone’s interested.
The footman was barely standing. He was cowering, truly afraid, within a hit of death. Almost running, but not quite. Within a hit of death, too, was his adversary, but not willing to risk the loss of his best and only footman, the general called the footman back. The footman gladly ran from his enemy; after escaping, he slowly limped back to town. Take a rest, the general urged; let our herbalist bandage a few of your wounds; you can go back to the battle immediately after, but no one will blame you if you do not.
The footman, ashamed of and disgusted at his earlier cowardice, did none of this. He turned around, determined for revenge, and charged his adversary. The general once again called him back. This happened a few times; eventually, it became clear that the footman would not rest until his adversary was dead. The general sounded an alert. The workers helped restrain the footman. But the enemy was further than the militia would go. Carpenter! The general outright shouted. Make a wooden sword; give it to our strongest man; that will have to do for now. The carpenter worked as quickly as he could, forming more of a bludgeon than a blade. Without even a word on how to wield it, the trainee was told to charge the footman’s adversary.
The adversary was crying as the trainee approached. With one swift blow, the trainee put her out of her misery.
The footman, free of his unassigned duty, fell back from his charge and limped to the nearest bed.