Role

Chapter 1

She birthed the shameful thing in the middle of the
ballroom. It seemed she was trying to get to the woods.
To help? To waiting elves? We may never know.
She wouldn't talk afterwards and afterwards afterwards
she hanged herself in the closet. The servants claim she
did it with the umbilicus but they are a foul lot of mouth
breathers. The house magician, who went by L'lall'antholos
the Magnificent, but was really just a hedge wizard from
Arendyl was, of course, fired. Master Drood wanted to cut
off his cock and send him bleeding back to the Vale, but
that was of course not done. Instead his passport was
made with a small satchel of silver and a threat on his
tongue should he ever mention this to the Elves.

The child was a servant's boy. Knocked up during
a drunken night of loneliness for them both. The
child was certainly not heir to the Drood fortune.
For all anyone cared, Auggie the halfbreed was nothing
more than a minor embarassment.

The lady was harder to explain, but enough to
say that the Master wanted to tell the people that
she was fucked to death by a horse. This was of course
not done. It was said that she had fallen down the stairs
after too much wine and broken her neck.

Oh. One more thing about the child. It was born with a mark.
Were you to see it from some distance you would swear
it had three eyes, this child. Two in the natural place
and one in the middle of its forehead. Truth be told you'd
be forgiven for mistaking it for a half-cyclops not a half-elf
for the eye you spotted before the ears.

Oh, what a vibrant child. I jest of course, a more
sullen creature you've never met. Given to fits. Wild
ideas put into its head for as soon as the mark was seen,
and how could one miss it, it was rushed off to the local
medicine woman whose pecker powder's efficacy I can
attest to, but I swear the soul of a Scarabite hides
beneath the smell of gingerbread.

"The child will have the second sight," she swore. "Leave
it in the wheat, for it's a cursed life. Be done with it." But
this was of course not done. She was paid with a barrel of wine that
was not-quite-stolen from the cellars and the child was
raised for a time as Auggie the servant boy.