I had to commandeer a small hand cart to carry my armor and axe. The damned suit of chain and steel plates, my buckles and leather straps, it was well over 100 pounds, closer to 130, really. Not to mention my axe, which was around 30 pounds.

  I had more body to cover, for one, and my brigandine was thick. While just shaped metal plates wrapped around one's body, each plate was thick and heavy.

  The drawbacks to brigandine were quite simple. It just flat out didn't protect someone as well as full plate. But, it was still really good at it. You were just less invincible then you could be.

  The up sides, however, made brigandine the poor man's, or woman's plate. As I said, it wasn't all that much worse in reality compared to plate, it was markedly cheaper, easier to repair and replace, and slightly more maneuverable. These things made it the ideal type of armor for me.

  The only issue is my armor was very customized. It had to be, to fit me. Most people in the kingdom, at least in the north, were dwarves and humans, with the rare orc from across the water further north. So, I was by far the biggest person around. You see where I'm going with this?

  It takes effort, money, and a not insignificant amount of time to make me something from scratch if I lose it or it breaks. Hence, brigandine. But I digress.

  As I slithered out of our families compound in the nobles district, I noticed another Scale Kin waiting by the wall. She was a solid 9 and a quarter feet tall, with deep, sapphire blue scales and lovely blue eyes. She had a long curved blade on her hip, with the spot for another. It was conspicuously missing, along with a few fingers.

  "Mom." I say formally. She was my hero. While dad was the beating heart of the family, mom was the iron fist to dad's velvet glove. If you wanted to do something fun? Go to dad. If something serious happened and things went sideways? Hide behind mom.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  I had always looked up to her. She had been my role model. The militaristic, highly competent woman with a will of iron and a spine of steel, with skills to match. I learned how to fight from her. I had favored polearms, due to my size and strength, but she had taught me the basics of the weapons she knew and preferred.

  She even taught my brother, even though males are almost never in battle. They tend to be too small and weak compared to us females, but mother said, 'better to know, and not need, then to die from not knowing.' A sentiment I could agree with.

  She moved to walk with me as I went down the road. I was actively avoiding people, and there wasn't mutch traffic on the road at the moment, so it was relatively easy. It also gave mom the chance to start a conversation.

  "Your father told me what you two talked about." She said bluntly. I twitched my head, and my hand clenched the handle of the cart.

  "Oh?" I said, slight strain evident in my voice.

  Mom just side eyes me, and smirks, teeth visible. "Be calm, daughter of mine. I know what you think." She said. "Let me guess. 'Oh, i have failed and shamed myself. I am a failure, an embarrassment', or something along those lines. Do i have the right of it?" She asks.

  I nod shallowly, and she snorts, flickering her tongue to taste the air. "I will be blunt. You did about as well as I expected you to. Even better even. Daughter, you are 18, and you ran head first into battle. I half expected you to be dead, but then again, I should have known better. You are much calmer then I was at your age. But I digress. War and battle are new to you, and it's gruesome reality's are no different. You ripping that vermin's arm off? To be expected. The fact you did it with your bare hands? Commendable. You will have to get used to it, daughter." mom said.

  She was, in her own way, trying to comfort me, trying to help. And she was. She was showing confidence in me, reinforcing me, and giving me a pep talk. She was the reality to dad's more closed off, reality be damned method of comforting.

  I nod, and i... decide to broach a topic I hadn't with dad. It wasn't in his purview, but mom? It was right up her alley.

  "Mom... I'm going away soon." I said.

  She just glances at me, and rolls her eyes. "Maybe you are more like me in temperament after all. Hmph. Let me guess. Vengeance." She said.

  "Those Varret Bastards-" I went on to curse, and explain what I wanted to do. I wanted Vengeance, yes. But I wanted them to suffer too, for what they had done. They had demeaned me, my family, and killed my kin. There had to be an answer. My blood almost demanded it.

  Mom just nodded, hmmmed, and eventually smiled, all teeth. "A bloodline feud... I haven't had a good feud in almost a century..." She mutters.

  "No, mother. This is my depth to repay. I will deal with it." I say.

  She turns to look at me then, and stares me in the eyes. Whatever she sees, she smirks. "You would make a good war leader, daughter. You have the temperament, and the size. Hmmm... Fine. I will not argue, it would be hypocrisy if I did. But. I will send you off better then I did. And who knows, maybe you will meet a cute male to ravish and make a clutch with, hmmmm?"

  I sputter, and twitch violently. "MOTHER!" I screeched. She just laughs, and waves me on. This was going to be a... day.