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The Missing Names


Burnsider
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The Missing Names

 

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When a man is alive, what exactly is the worth of his actions? Very little. For today will turn into tomorrow and the man's actions may be undone by either his own remorse or the workings of another. In essence, while alive, a man's worth, his actions, are entirely fluid, able to be changed at whim. But, when a man dies, those actions are set in stone. Forever will his name be attached to the legacy that he wrought, for good or ill. It is now a part of history.

-An excerpt from "God-Kings and Tyrants", available in the Eternal Library of Haelun'or

 

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Ensign Fitzwallace was catching up on his paperwork in the Orenian bastion, working through some of the death tolls of the battles between the Holy Orenian Empire and the heathens from the north. The tallies, of course, had been completed months ago. However, there was always a need for auditing and cross-referencing in order to ensure that the Imperial records were fully accurate. And that was Fitzwallace's specialty. He was more an accountant than a soldier, but his work was a necessary cog in the Imperial war machine, and he was damn proud of it.

 

"Simons, Percy. Sergeant. Payroll number 54793. Second Regiment. Fifth Brigade. Killed in Action. Simeon, Gaffney. Private. Payroll number 98324 Second Regiment. Fifth Brigade. Killed in Action." Slowly, he worked through the list. It was not as long as it could have been, and for that he thanked GOD and Saint Andrik, for the swift Imperial victory. As he entered the list of the sixth brigade, however, he paused and stared down at the ledger. "That...cannot be right," he proclaimed to no one in particular. He quickly shifted through some more papers and found himself even more confused. There were names missing. Rank, unit, even payroll number was still there. But the name had not been recorded. How odd.

 

He looked up and called over to another soldier in his office. "Leroux, we have some names missing from the death ledger. Can you bring over the payroll ledger for the Second Regiment, please?" The sergeant hopped up and moved over to the shelves, flicking his eyes back and forth until he found the correct tome. Sergeant Leroux grabbed hold of the book and brought it over to Fitwallace's desk.

 

"What numbers are we looking for, sir?" the sergeant asked.

 

Fitzwallace scratched his head. "There are a couple here. Let's start with this one. Payroll number 36822."

 

The sergeant nodded and began flipping through his ledger. The pages of the book were well-worn, consulted as often as they were. "Here we are. 36822. What?" His eyes narrowed and then he looked back at Ensign Fitzwallace's death ledger. "The...the name is gone here too."

 

Together, they worked feverishly over the next several hours, pouring over tome and ledger, cross-referencing every reference they had available. In the end, they had found fourteen missing names. And those names were gone everywhere. From the death tolls, from the payroll, from the organizational roster, from transfer records. Everywhere. "We have to report this," they said almost at the same time, and then rushed off to find their superior.

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Ulf pounded on the doors of the his clan chief in Varhelm. Several of the chief's bannermen opened the door, axe and sword at the ready, but they relaxed as soon as they saw the young lad standing before them. "Ulf, you'll wake up the chieftain with all that racket, you mangy rascal. Get your hide in here by the fire before you catch your death."

 

The young lad just stood there, shaking, looking at one of the bannermen. "What's my name, Skarde? Tell me, quickly."

 

The Nord bannerman laughed and grabbed the boy by the front of his tunic, lifting him up and carrying him into the house, depositing him not so gently on a pile of furs near the hearth. "Ulf, you blasted idiot. I don't have time for stupid riddles from a child right now."

 

Ulf shivered, even near the warmth of the fire. "It's not a riddle, Skarde. I need your help. What is my name?"

 

Skarde laughed with several of the other bannermen and retrieved his ale from a nearby table, bringing it over to the hearth near the lad. "Fine, I'll play. Your name is Ulf."

 

Ulf looked up and his eye lashes were crusted with dried tears. "No, what is my full name?"

 

Skarde laughed again. "Ulf...uh...Ulf...Something-sson...ah, darkness blast it, Ulf, what was your father's name again?"

 

Ulf shivered again, and his head fell. "I don't know. I don't know his name anymore. Not anymore. No one does..."

 

The laughter died in Skarde's throat. "What?" he asked, plainly.

 

Ulf looked up at Skarde. "And I am not the only child who cannot remember a parent who fell against Oren that day..."

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