Chapter 11: New recruits

2 0 0
                                    

We took to the slums within this town. It was a horrific sight to behold, I had never spent much time in Lowtown when in Kirkwall, it may have been to avoid what was now staring me in the face. There were men, women and children all struggling to survive, some looked ill, others malnourished to the point of baring a greater resemblance to skeletons than human beings. I wanted to look away as it was difficult to face such suffering. It was painful to see the people here, people like them that I should have been helping in Kirkwall but chose to hide from. I had also been brainwashed to fear them on some level with the stories other Templars told us. But they did not rush us or try to steal from us like I had been told, I should have known better. It was much worse than that, they feared us. They cowered upon sight of us, those who had strength to do so. Pulling back further into dingy alley ways and dark corners until they felt safe from us, beyond our reach. These people weren't just down on their luck, they were cast aside and forgot by this world. I think that Samson felt a genuine empathy for them as that had been him at some point, suffering with no hope in sight or so Cullen had told me. I wondered what would have happened if I had searched him out back then, but I could only imagine he would have told me to get lost. Or maybe I could have helped him. I would never know the truth of it now. I could only assume that Samson like these people on the street had watched both their dignity and health fade. Some of these upon this street desperately clung to their dignity, they did not beg, nor even cast their eyes to us. Others in their desperation recited the same plea over and over in a manic desperate tone, "Help me, please."

Their pleas were hard to ignore. The more compos mentis of those relegated to the darker parts of this town cast suspicious glances our way, some even questioned our presence. "What are you two doing here?"

Samson took the lead upon this. "I am here only to offer you a second chance. Whether you take it is up to you."

"No one cares about our suffering. Addicts they call us, say we brought this upon ourselves. How would you know? Why would you care?" The man hissed accusingly at us.

"I do know. I know the hunger that eats at you, the strange clouding of your mind, feeling as though your sanity is slipping. The pain that tears at you. The days were you can barely move, when the world is flame, then cold as ice. I know it. Wanting to never see lyrium again but it is all you can think about."

I felt my eyes widen as Samson told them of his own suffering, I felt ashamed to know that my fellow Templar's had suffered and I had not seen it, or noticed it.

Half of these beggars we discovered were former Templar's who had struggled with lyrium and the order had cast them out as addicts and deemed them not strong enough to stand among their fellow Templars. We rarely heard of their plights as the order had probably not wanted this knowledge to get out. Their stories of suffering were as hard to hear as Samson's. The tell-tale signs of the addiction showed in their eyes and skin. Their hands shook, and when Samson showed them that someone cared what happened to them they seemed to manage weak smiles. I felt guilt at the idea of them trading one painful addiction for another but it was also nice to see Samson showing a little humanity. He told them where our camp was and that shelter and food awaited them, but he did not speak of anything beyond that. It took me by surprise that he offered the same to all of those who could accept his hand, and asked that others id those that could not. He found the need to continue the kindness, maybe this did remind him of the times he was struggling.

There was sadly so many suffering and the only hand being held out to them was his, so why should they turn it away? I wondered if this was how Samson was drawn into service. I imagined him on the street barely living until Corypheus found him, it was a painful image. It faded as quickly as my mind had conjured it. The thanks of those Samson had given aid to was the most genuine I had ever seen, it brought tears to my eyes to see their pain and his connection to it.

Taking sidesWhere stories live. Discover now