Author Topic: Gabriel d'Aubry - Country Above All  (Read 829 times)

Chabxxu

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Gabriel d'Aubry - Country Above All
« on: February 24, 2021, 12:47:42 AM »
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Is this truly what we've become?

Prideless, spineless, unable to act?

Six years, coming back to this?


They don't know the distress.

They can't understand the pain.

They will never feel the anger.


Anciaux exemplifies who I fight for.

Freedom is why I fight.

I fight for my COUNTRY.

Chabxxu

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Re: Gabriel d'Aubry - Country Above All
« Reply #1 on: March 05, 2021, 10:11:35 PM »
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Duty or Welfare

Will I know which path to choose, when confronted with the choice?

How could he decide, when the time came?

Does he still think he chose right, after all those years?

Will Marius de Mortigny be remembered as a patriot or as a rebel?

How will History treat him, in a hundred years?

So many questions, so few answers.

Who knew Duty would take such a toll?

Who will I be?

How will I be remembered?



Chabxxu

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Re: Gabriel d'Aubry - Country Above All
« Reply #2 on: June 13, 2022, 10:08:32 PM »

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Why do I feel hate for doing my duty?
Why do I feel like the outsider in my own country?
They skirt the law, break it, yet I feel in the wrong.

Am I on the right path?
Have I done this?
Is death the only reward I shall receive?


Chabxxu

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Weakness
« Reply #3 on: July 12, 2022, 06:44:40 PM »

“I can go all day.”

He panted, bleeding from dozens of bite wounds, as he looked at the corpses of the creatures littered around him. His companions didn’t look better than him, but at least they were all alive.  His words were pure bravado to satisfy his ego, as he very well knew he couldn’t face another group of the creatures. He was at his limit, even if he didn’t want to admit it.

“Weak. I’m still too weak”

The words repeated themselves in his mind as everyone around him was seeing to their wounds. He stood there, unflinching, battling his own thoughts until he could overcome his fear of failure. Only then did he see to his own wounds, the inner struggle hidden deep within him, too deep for any of his companions to glance at his weakness.

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“What did you do this time d’Aubry?”

The words rang hollow in his mind, as he came to attention to see the Doctoresse in front of him. He lifted his hands in front of his face to get a better look at his burnt flesh. All he could remember was his feeling of his flesh being burnt as forced himself through the fire the mage had surrounded himself with. Yet he didn’t care. He slashed at the man until he was laying down on the ground, barely alive. Only then did the pain hit him.

“Another foreigner mage attacked me. Had to fight him.”

He knew she didn’t approve of all the trouble he got himself into, but what choice did he have? His duty wouldn’t let him walk away from those situations. It was the third time he had fought a mage, and the two other times had left him for dead. He knew he could at least fight back now. That he wasn’t that easy target for those who used the arcane arts. In the back of his mind, he knew he had been lucky. But he buried those thoughts and managed to smile.

“At least this time he didn’t kill me.”

He was still weak. But he was getting strong. Soon, he’d be a match for any Foreigner.



Chabxxu

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Opportunity
« Reply #4 on: August 09, 2022, 11:50:53 PM »

“I have a mission that needs to be taken care off d’Aubry. I’m giving you full authority on that. Choose your men and make sure it’s a success. ”

He had been waiting to hear that for weeks now. He felt stuck behind all those officers in the Gendarmerie. He was putting so much effort into his work, yet he didn’t feel like he was getting anywhere with it. This mission was the opportunity he had been looking for. The chance to prove to the brass he was different than the other officers, that he could get the job done and that he deserved the Sergeant’s position.

"People much higher ranked than you and I have made those decisions d’Aubry."

He looked around the room at the broken bottles and glasses he had smashed in frustration. The words rang in his head, and it made him mad. Could he trust him? Who had talked? He had made sure to keep everything secret, so word couldn’t reach the mercenaries of their mission. More people on the field would mean more danger to his people, and a lower chance of success. Did they have a leak in the Gendarmerie working for the Borcans? He wouldn’t let them take away the glory of the mission. His career and reputation was in play here and he knew he wouldn’t let anything stand in his way.


This was his chance to work for his country. To do his duty and prove himself. He would take it.

Chabxxu

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Guilt
« Reply #5 on: August 30, 2022, 11:49:54 PM »

His gaze slowly went over the desk, at the myriads of letters he had received over his trip to the Silent Fields. He reached from a sealed enveloped with his name and opened it. As he started reading, tears slowly fell down his cheeks.

“You are a more than capable commander. You have the makings to surpass me, and even Sieur Dorian, in the Gendarmerie Nationale. Let this letter stand as my recommendation for your commission.”

The man who died for him, for the success of his mission, recommending him for promotion. How could he believe in himself after the mistakes he had made in his first mission? One man had given his life, and only his sacrifice had made it possible for his mission to be somewhat successful. While everyone seemed to think he had done great work and his mission was a success, deep down he knew he had failed, failed to protect his people. He knew he would use this letter, use it to gain his commission and be an officer. But his status would be built on a dead man’s sacrifice. And he’d have a debt to pay.

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“The Gendarmerie Nationale writes to express their deepest regret that your nephew, Caporal Marcel de Renault was killed in action on the twenty-eight day of August, 777 in the performance of his duty and service to the République. His remains were unable to be recovered. Please accept the Gendarmerie's most heartfelt sympathies.”

His hand was shacking as he signed the letter, right under his friend’s signature. He knew his death was his fault. He’s the one that lead them in that direction, right into Falkovnia. And Marcel had done what he hadn’t been able to do on the moment. Give his life for the rest of them to live. He could still hear the determination in his voice, his conviction as the bomb was thrown, the heat at the explosion. The screams of the horses, the smell of the burning flesh. Those would haunt his dreams for many weeks, he knew it. And he’d have to live with the guilt for years.