Asher Ward

Asher Ward

Rahu Hunter in Darkness

Lodge of the Empty Den

Primal Urge 4

In his own words
I was just an average, snotnosed army brat. I never stayed anywhere for long, and at times it felt like I was saying goodbye before I even finished saying hello. It wasn’t easy, but I got through it. Kids are resilient. At least I hope they are. Maybe that’s why I rushed into everything. Time passes by.

I was a freshman at UCLA when I met her. Sam was smart, pretty, and everything else a first love should be. She was going to be a doctor. I was just some idiot on a football scholarship with no direction other than the one his family expected. I should have stayed out of her life. Instead, I married her.

It was junior year when the towers fell. I was angry. I think we all were, but most people probably didn’t enlist a month later. It wasn’t until years later that I knew how to put it into words. “Let no sacred place in your territory be violated.” The towers were just buildings, but what the attack did to the homes of those involved was unforgivable.

Sam was understanding. My father was not. He had pushed me to join the army for my entire life, but he had always intended for me to follow in his footsteps as a commissioned officer. I don’t think civilians really understand the difference. Commissioned officers don’t just command more troops or outrank enlisted. They lead entirely different lives. The two groups don’t fraternize. Even their families and children don’t socialize. This is both by custom and regulation. It’s hard to take orders from a man you saw dress up in full war-paint for the big game, and it’s just as hard to send that man to what could be his death.

I’d like to say that I defied the old man’s expectations because of a desire to be right there in the middle of the action. I’d even take a certain smug sense of satisfaction if I did it just out of youthful defiance, but the truth is I was just a hothead that couldn’t wait. Despite what people may think about military intelligence, a commission does require a college degree. Then there’s officer training itself. I had to do something. Whether or not it was the smart thing was secondary.

The adage goes something like, “War is long periods of boredom punctuated by moments of terror.” I spent more time training than fighting in my first few years. I made the best of it. By my last deployment I was a Sergeant in the 2nd Ranger Battalion. More importantly, I had a daughter. Nicole’s birth was a sobering experience. It’s not like I was some adrenaline junky thrillseeker before, but having someone the needs you to come home safely changes things. If it wasn’t for her, I’m not sure I would have made it home.

It was a real Charlie Foxtrot. We’d tracked the target to some caves outside of some backwater that I can’t pronounce. It’s probably for the best. What happened wasn’t their fault. It wasn’t his either. With all the violence, hatred, and distrust, it’s a wonder that we weren’t tripping over crazed spirits every sortie. Hell, we probably were. “The Herd must not know.” Give me a break. The Herd does a good enough job not knowing all on its own.

A group of Cultists lead by a half mad ridden wasn’t in the mission briefing, so things went about as poorly as could be expected. I was captured but not before being stabbed by a ritual knife that probably had a ban against disinfectants. I was delirious with fever for most of the rest of it. It played to expectations. There were hostage demands, videos, the works. In the end it was just a glorified ritual sacrifice. It would have been so easy to just lie down and not get back up, but I had to get home.

Maybe it was because of my illness, or maybe it was all the blood and death already in the air, but the spirit never noticed the signs of the First Change. Then again, maybe it did,. It made the cave an altar. I bathed it in blood. People, and it should be clear which People, sometimes wonder why I didn’t join the Talons. The thing is, battle is supposed to be this pure thing, and maybe it was. Now though, there’s an ugliness to it that I can’t escape. I can’t be the kind of warrior they need.

That was my last active duty. No one questioned it too closely when I switched to the reserves at the end of the deployment. They probably assumed I’d snapped under the strain. I thought so too at first. I tried to settle down and do the Mr. Mom thing. I really did, but Oakland’s Shadow is disaster zone: A graveyard of tree spirits anchored to their stumps, illness and poison spirits leaching into the water along with the lead, and the twin redwoods that once guided ships to port are gone. In their absence, the shadow around them has warped into a twisting labyrinth that clouds the mind.

It started small. There were other People in Oakland so it wasn’t like I had to do it all, but the problems always seemed to get bigger, take longer. Before long, I was always running late, sneaking out, and lying. I wasn’t very good at it. Sam and I were fighting all the time. Maybe I should have told her. Oaths be damned. Maybe I was glad to have a reason not to tell her.

I was sloppy. One of the Pure followed me home. It ambushed me and took a bite out of my daughter before I drove it off. I told the doctors that dog bit her. I’m not sure if they believed it. I stormed off five minutes after Sam got to the hospital. “The People do not murder the People,” but a line had been crossed. It had to end.

I’m not proud of what came next. It’s not something anyone should be proud of. What matters is that I did what I thought I had to, and when I was done I came home to an empty house. Divorce papers came a week later. They’re in Los Angeles now, with her family. I don’t blame her. It’s safer there, and she has the support she needs to follow her dream.

I was dead inside for a long time afterwards. I went through the motions, but nothing really mattered. When my service obligation ended I left the army and wandered aimlessly. I’d like to say that there was one moment of epiphany that brought me back, but there wasn’t. It took innumerable steps before I found myself back in Oakland. If I was to sum it all up though, it comes down to two simple words. Sua Sponte. I can rail against the inflexibility of the Oaths, I can curse the moon for making me what I am, but my choices were my own.

I’ve dedicated myself to making my territory a safe place where no more families will get hurt by the kind of monsters our world lets loose. I’m not an idiot. The job will never be done, and sometimes it will be an outright failure, but it’s the best I can do. I’ve started a security company with one of my pack mates. We call it Orthrus Security because, well, we call a two headed god dog like we see it. The staff is still green, and I can’t tell them what is really out there, but they’re sharp. When something strange is going on at one of their gigs, they notice, and then we can take care of it before it becomes a problem.

Appearance
Asher Ward is 6 ft even. He's a bit on the wiry side, but he uses the added speed to his advantage against larger, bulkier opponents. A military upbringing has instilled a certain stiffness to his posture, tidiness to his wardrobe, and shortness to his hair. It's not that he dresses formally, but he's keen to follow dress codes to the letter, even when the code is unspoken.