Dlome
Dlome's Beginnings
My childhood memories have long faded into passing visions,
however certain definite events remain. On single memory is all
that is coherent. All other memories are but passing fragments of
time. Here I will relate to thee why I am known as a rogue.
My earliest childhood memory is of my parents - I think. I
remember the loud noise of carriage wheels flying along a rough
road. I remember clutching a woman's arm tightly so I would not
fall out of the back. I cannot see where I was. I remember purple
fabric... maybe it was a gypsies wagon. I remember shouts from
behind... loud men and horses hooves. The woman I was clutching
said only one thing: "hide." I know not where I hid. I
still remember flames and heat. I remember clutching my hands and
feeling the heat much too close...
That is all that remains of my memory. What happened I cannot
say for sure. I do now know how old I am. I was raised by a
solitary man who took good care of me. I never knew his
name. I do not suppose it matters, he was always
"father" to me. I always asked why my back was scarred,
maybe 'twas the fire I remember, but he would not say... I
suppose I was too young.
Years later, when I was a young man, he told me of how he
found me within the wreckage of a wagon. I can only assume that
this is what i remember in my dreams. Father taught me of his
learnings in the mystical arts. I cared little for the subject,
but I learned enough to protect myself. Eventually father passed
on. He left me his house and possessions, but I was too young to
take care of the place. I wandered the woods during the day and
usually returned at night. As I got older I returned less and
less. The house eventually became overrun with weeds and the
smaller creatures of the forest. Today I know not where this
house is... I don't suppose it matters.
I met a man who was much like me. He showed me what he knew of
staying alive - how to get gold and food from others. We gave
what we did not need to those who could not do as we did. I can
still remember how those "nobles" ignored us when they
passed on the road. They helped no one but themselves, so we felt
obligated to show them how to be gracious.
These were the good times. Ben and I enjoyed an adventurous
life. We became quite good friends. Over time we both grew
proficient at what we did. Our lives were easy and comfortable.
Eventually Ben and I went separate ways. He preferred to keep
more than he needed. He left me sometime during one of the great
wars... said he was going off to fight. I can still remember the
day I saw him leave. He wore nothing but his leggings, his pack,
and a smile. He told me he was heading north. Over the years I
heard rumors of events, but I never heard from Ben. Only once did
I meet a man who said he knew of my friend. He told me that Ben
now rides a horse as the ones I so bitterly hate do. Maybe our
paths will cross again one day.
Today I live much the same as I did when Ben was still around.
I haunt the forests scavenging for the necessary plants of
the mystical arts. I truly despise nobles. They sit high on
their horses and laugh loudly with their friends, but tis only
falsity and lies. I know not what wars they fight or who they
defend, but I do know they are lower than those that inhabit the
forests with me. We take what we can get. I always help those who
remind me of my youth.
That is my tale and that is my life. If you meet me on the
road, hold thy possessions close... If thou art like me, you will
always have a friend.
|
Stratics Central
