[WP] Make something simple sound complicated

...

Guard duty.

So simple.

Stand here and watch the hall. Wait for something bad to happen, and stop it from happening.

Many might think it's a job so simple, that anyone with a sword and half decent armor could do it.

Wrong.

Fallacy.

Fiction.

Falsehood.

The person I'm guarding needs to have someone watching at all times. Over the past three weeks, four assassins have tried to kill them: Three of those in the middle of the night.

One guess whether the sun is up right now.

Hint: It's not. It's very late.

"Uncomfortable" is not the proper word for my current feelings... "Nervous?" That seems to fit at least slightly better, but I know that the more open and honest alternative would be "Endangered" or perhaps the truthful "Terror." All of these might sum up the previous weeks since my hiring, as well as the events which lead to my employment.

Should I find it strange that I'm already the most trusted guard in the service of the Royal house?

That's a question which is more heavily weighted when put into proper context. The significance might as well be a bag of stones, or lead. Me- trusted? Normally the suggestion is a type of thing you laugh at, a humorous joke more than an honest suggestion.

But the truth can be a bit scary.

Most guards of the Royal house are chosen and trained into service from a young age, to serve until their deaths. Whereas, the beginning of my employment within the Royal palace had begun exactly twenty-three days ago. They dragged me out of a jail cell with my companions, and I swore allegiance under mortal alternative.

Troubled: There is the word I was looking for. I am greatly troubled.

As a foreigner (perhaps as much so as it is possible to be) this entire city seems utterly bizarre. A place of stone and carvings, of white rock and cobbled streets. To the miles around the castle I now stand within, there are massive walls of pure stone and magic, lofted far above the city they contain. There are gates, hundreds of paces in height made almost entirely of statues and figures of the worshiped gods.

But none of that is here in the castle.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

The castle of the Royal family is an equally strange place. Like an island slowly becoming eroded by the waves, the Royal grounds are surrounded by a strong presence of Faith and church. In a way, it gives off an impression not far from someone being strangled to death. It seems that while the Faith grows only more powerful by the day, the Crown and Throne have found themselves on death's door: Fighting to the bitter end.

Thus the reason I'm standing here, I suppose. The Church would have my head on a spike without a second's notice. The enemy of your enemy is your friend- Who could be a better choice for the Royal heir to hire?

Probably a real guard. Someone trained at it, a big burly warrior type, and not a tired looking bearded fellow still putting back weight from his time in the dungeons.

If you were wondering, I've answered my own question just now. Normally I'd laugh, but I'm working.

Guarding. Very serious. Import job, after all.

I still smile a bit though, these things help me stay awake once the cold edge of fear runs itself dull, and adrenaline can only hold me up for so long. After all, I'm just a regular person forced into rather irregular circumstances. If I didn't have a reliable team of companions, I'd probably be dead in a ditch somewhere- feasted on by ghouls, orcs, or goblins.

Maybe even all three.

Possible, considering I've been stabbed a few times even with that previously mentioned team of reliable companions. These things just tend to happen every so often. Adventuring is a dangerous profession, and Guarding is said to be simpler.

I disagree, adamantly.

Standing here here, in front of a very fancy set of thick wooden doors, I feel this is much more dangerous. Monsters are scary, but people can be worse. Especially to a man foolish enough to be standing between the body of a sleeping Royal heir, and the knife of a zealot's faith.

I'd much rather deal with monsters.

It's much easier to tell when a monster wants someone dead. They've very honest about it most of the time. People, on the other hand, are trickier to figure out.

Guarding.

Not sleeping.

Simple.

Guarding the big wooden doors, and the sleeping princess with the scary Golden eyes. The benevolent employer.

A noise.

Ah, there... way down the hall. I can see the dark outline of an approaching figure. Armor, it clanks... Torches show the Crest of the Royal house... Large and towering... it's a Knight.

A night-time Knight.

Ah... that joke might have once made me laugh, but there isn't supposed to be one of those here. Royal Crest or not, that figure is out of place.

Truly, the odd ring of metal that comes from their gauntlet drawing a giant sword isn't very comforting either. The sword on my hip isn't nearly as scary looking, it lacks the intimidation.

Stomping feet, a charging pace.

A loud grunt, a rumbling crumple, a following and solid "thwack."

Then silence.

Not even a full month, and that makes four assassins. A rather impressive number.

I nod to the glimmer of a smile, now standing over the once towering night-time Knight. The fate looked rather painful, not the kind someone gets back up from afterwards.

Nighty-night, night-time Knight. Light's out for good, probably.

Ha...

Now it's rather funny, I suppose. A tiny chuckle at least, a grin at the most. If I wasn't guarding I'd share the joke, morbid as it is. There might be real laughs, I think.

God, I'm tired. It's no good, staying awake like this.

Guarding isn't nearly as simple as people crack it out to be. Like I said before, I'm just an ordinary guy. The heir could have a much better guard if she wanted. Someone more dangerous, with a scarier looking sword.

Honestly, I barely even know how to use the one they gave me. It's a very pretty looking thing, but if anyone expects a glorious example of combat when facing me- they might find themselves disappointed. At my best I'd probably just focus on trying not to die.

They never gave me a shield, maybe I should ask.

Ah... I'm so tired. Guarding. Right, back to it.

Guarding, watching.

Another smile, and a friendly wave. There it goes, armor cramped like an italian hit-job, a rolling carpet and a scuffing drag into the distance.

Goodbye Knight.

Times like this, I think it's a good thing I have a reliable team of companions.