First Blood
Anomen Delryn tightened his grip on the club and peered into the chamber in front of him. There they were, scurrying lazily around in plain sight, not even bothering to hide.
Rats.
"So, you want to be a paladin? You want to prance around on feathered horses like those sanctimonious gits? An honest day's work is too good for you? Here! You can start your grand and noble career by conquering the rats in the cellar, knightling!"
His father's angry words as he'd thrust the club at Anomen still burned in the twelve-year-old's ears. His mother had stood in the doorway, looking sad and weary; even in his chamber on the other end of the house, it had been all too easy to hear every word that Cor Delryn had shouted to her about 'planting foolish ideas in the boy's mind', only minutes before. And Moira... his little sister had clung to Mother's skirts, wide-eyed and silent. She is the only one he never lashes out at, yet she always seems to fear that he will, Anomen mused grimly.
One of the rats paused for an instant, stared at him, and then continued onwards towards one of the flour sacks. The boy knew how much damage the vermin did to their food, but he also knew that his father was not too concerned about it. If he had truly cared about the loss, he would have hired an exterminator months ago, rather than merely purchasing more foodstuffs. Anomen sincerely hoped that his father took better care of the goods he kept in the mercantile storehouse, as he doubted his father's customers would be as understanding about having to extract rat droppings from their grain and flour before every meal.
Another rat stopped to look at him. It was perfectly unafraid, regarding him as a curiosity rather than a threat, and... did he merely imagine it, or was there truly a disdainful look in the creature's eyes? He was acutely reminded of how his father tended to look upon him. Yes, the rat's eyes held an echo of the exact look that his father had bestowed upon him every single day since he'd found out that Anomen had neither the talent nor the disposition for entering the family trade. Still, even I would know better than to let these creatures run rampant in our very own cellar!
The temptation was too great; for a moment, he let himself imagine the rat as an embodiment of his father. Lazy, greedy, shrewd, selfish, foul tempered... despicable!
"How dare you!" Anomen shouted as he brought the club down on the rat.
---
An hour later, Anomen entered Cor Delryn's office, holding the bloodied club in his right hand and carrying a dozen or so dead rats by their tails with his left. He gazed downwards even as he held up the proof of his work; somehow, he could not bring himself to look at his father's face.
"Did I tell you to bring them here, boy?" his father all but shouted. "Dump them on the kitchen midden, where they belong!"
"Yes, Father," Anomen murmured, and left the office, still clutching his victims' tails.