Post by pyrokitsune on Feb 3, 2009 18:55:58 GMT -5
(This is more a draft than anything, I meant to post this a long while ago but I've never liked it completely and keep making small changes here and there. If I don't post it though I never will.)
Name – Torin
Race – Haguni
Class – Fighter
Torin’s life has been one of averages. He was never the strongest of his tribe; those were made great hunters and fighters who found prestige early on in battle. Nor did he find himself among the brightest; those who were destined to lead the tribe or secreted off to learn shamanistic ways. He couldn’t even count himself in as the most agile; those whos glory would come from frontline scouting, or espionage. Born into a tenant rank, with little to look forward to but work, thankful that he was not to be lorded over as is the slave’s fate. He was a member of the RazorTooth tribe.
Life had its turns, its ups and its downs, as all lives inevitably do. Torin was taught how to train animals as a youth, a much needed skill in the tribal setting. Training dogs for the hunt, horses for the few Haguni who make use of such things, as well as catching and training such beasts than can be used for food. These skills saw him through childhood and well into the years where most would consider him something close to a tribe elder in age, if not in knowledge or rank. This wore on Torin, always desiring more but with very little opportunity to do anything but perhaps someday become a master and train others in the craft.
His entire life Torin was told stories of a great empire of the past. Grand dreams filled his head during the nights, and intruded upon his daily activities for untold years. He envisioned an empire that was the envy of the world. A powerful force, a strong presence and would incite respect of the races that looked down upon his. The stories told of how the Haguni were Virdea’s first true people, how others came from outside and claimed their lands. An empire rose up and kept the lands safe from being taken. The empire stood for lifetimes upon lifetimes, until as happens sometimes rulers gained power and misused it. The empire crumbled bit by bit until no more was left. The stories always made Torin want to find the remains of the empire, to rebuild it into something and put the Haguni back in the world as equals to all other races. These were merely dreams; his lot in life seemed assured.
On a warm fall day only the past year a man rode into the tribe’s village. It was a spectacle enough to draw a crowd, humans are rarely seen in the village and this one seemed finely dressed riding on his horse. The man seemed to speak not the tongue of the tribe but related a job offering in trade cant to the gathering crowd. Most seemed to have had their fill of the man and his offer was to enter the employ of some merchant family as hired guards. Fighting comes as naturally to a Haguni as breathing does to others. Torin had little training but knew a way out to the wider world with promise of money and perhaps more when he saw it. The fighting caste would have nothing to do with the man, and most others had not the want to leave the tribe. That day Torin was the only one to walk out of the village with the stranger.
The man’s name turned out to be James, and through the limits of the language of trade Torin found that he was under the employ of a small merchant company bound out of Greysmere, a town some distance to the south. Torin would be hired as one of the guards for the warehouses they ran in the town until the harvest stock was mostly sold off in early spring. The company would provide him with food, board, and a very small stipend for the time the job was ongoing. Accepting, Torin spent the winter in the service, saving what he could until he bought a simple chainmail suit for himself.
The duty was less than entertaining, and resulted in many a free hour. The other guards rolled bones or played cards to pass the time and taught Torin how games of chance worked. This has become both Torin’s blessing and curse. Wasting away the hours, as well as a hefty sum of money Torin gambled until others would not longer want to play. Going into the taverns, and other illicit places Torin gambled and gambled. He was tossed out a time or two, sometimes for winning, sometimes for not being able to pay his debt all at once. The winter months went by in this way.
The job was nearing a close as spring approached. The warehouse was becoming more and barer as stock was moved, traded, sold, and transported. Finally came the day Torin was thanked for his service and told he was no longer required. Taking his final pennies wage he left the merchants employ and found an inn to bed in for the time being. The gambling never ceased however, but Torin’s luck hit the jackpot. One late night an overly drunk and arrogant Fisher bet his boat in a game of bones. Torin could only match the bet by offering himself to slavery should he lose. The fisherman accepted but lost the throw. Angry the fisherman refused to pay, and Torin fought the man as a matter of honor. The fisherman had no chance against even an average Haguni’s strength and was soon handing over the ship willingly.
Torin knew that there would be repercussions for his actions, even if they were only to make the man honestly pay what he owed. He had heard someone mentioning a small town on the lake looking for adventure types. He hardly considered himself an adventurer and the road had long since grown over to the south into an impassible state. However, now with a boat the going would be easy and he jumped at the chance to try. He left early in the morning sailing the boat south along the shoreline to the town he’d heard was called Spearfish….
Name – Torin
Race – Haguni
Class – Fighter
Torin’s life has been one of averages. He was never the strongest of his tribe; those were made great hunters and fighters who found prestige early on in battle. Nor did he find himself among the brightest; those who were destined to lead the tribe or secreted off to learn shamanistic ways. He couldn’t even count himself in as the most agile; those whos glory would come from frontline scouting, or espionage. Born into a tenant rank, with little to look forward to but work, thankful that he was not to be lorded over as is the slave’s fate. He was a member of the RazorTooth tribe.
Life had its turns, its ups and its downs, as all lives inevitably do. Torin was taught how to train animals as a youth, a much needed skill in the tribal setting. Training dogs for the hunt, horses for the few Haguni who make use of such things, as well as catching and training such beasts than can be used for food. These skills saw him through childhood and well into the years where most would consider him something close to a tribe elder in age, if not in knowledge or rank. This wore on Torin, always desiring more but with very little opportunity to do anything but perhaps someday become a master and train others in the craft.
His entire life Torin was told stories of a great empire of the past. Grand dreams filled his head during the nights, and intruded upon his daily activities for untold years. He envisioned an empire that was the envy of the world. A powerful force, a strong presence and would incite respect of the races that looked down upon his. The stories told of how the Haguni were Virdea’s first true people, how others came from outside and claimed their lands. An empire rose up and kept the lands safe from being taken. The empire stood for lifetimes upon lifetimes, until as happens sometimes rulers gained power and misused it. The empire crumbled bit by bit until no more was left. The stories always made Torin want to find the remains of the empire, to rebuild it into something and put the Haguni back in the world as equals to all other races. These were merely dreams; his lot in life seemed assured.
On a warm fall day only the past year a man rode into the tribe’s village. It was a spectacle enough to draw a crowd, humans are rarely seen in the village and this one seemed finely dressed riding on his horse. The man seemed to speak not the tongue of the tribe but related a job offering in trade cant to the gathering crowd. Most seemed to have had their fill of the man and his offer was to enter the employ of some merchant family as hired guards. Fighting comes as naturally to a Haguni as breathing does to others. Torin had little training but knew a way out to the wider world with promise of money and perhaps more when he saw it. The fighting caste would have nothing to do with the man, and most others had not the want to leave the tribe. That day Torin was the only one to walk out of the village with the stranger.
The man’s name turned out to be James, and through the limits of the language of trade Torin found that he was under the employ of a small merchant company bound out of Greysmere, a town some distance to the south. Torin would be hired as one of the guards for the warehouses they ran in the town until the harvest stock was mostly sold off in early spring. The company would provide him with food, board, and a very small stipend for the time the job was ongoing. Accepting, Torin spent the winter in the service, saving what he could until he bought a simple chainmail suit for himself.
The duty was less than entertaining, and resulted in many a free hour. The other guards rolled bones or played cards to pass the time and taught Torin how games of chance worked. This has become both Torin’s blessing and curse. Wasting away the hours, as well as a hefty sum of money Torin gambled until others would not longer want to play. Going into the taverns, and other illicit places Torin gambled and gambled. He was tossed out a time or two, sometimes for winning, sometimes for not being able to pay his debt all at once. The winter months went by in this way.
The job was nearing a close as spring approached. The warehouse was becoming more and barer as stock was moved, traded, sold, and transported. Finally came the day Torin was thanked for his service and told he was no longer required. Taking his final pennies wage he left the merchants employ and found an inn to bed in for the time being. The gambling never ceased however, but Torin’s luck hit the jackpot. One late night an overly drunk and arrogant Fisher bet his boat in a game of bones. Torin could only match the bet by offering himself to slavery should he lose. The fisherman accepted but lost the throw. Angry the fisherman refused to pay, and Torin fought the man as a matter of honor. The fisherman had no chance against even an average Haguni’s strength and was soon handing over the ship willingly.
Torin knew that there would be repercussions for his actions, even if they were only to make the man honestly pay what he owed. He had heard someone mentioning a small town on the lake looking for adventure types. He hardly considered himself an adventurer and the road had long since grown over to the south into an impassible state. However, now with a boat the going would be easy and he jumped at the chance to try. He left early in the morning sailing the boat south along the shoreline to the town he’d heard was called Spearfish….