Role

Chapter 1

The first few years of my life are a jumbled mix of images, sounds, and
feelings. But from there on, my memory is quite vivid. Probably the first
thing I recall is that one morning when I was a young teen, maybe
fourteen, my father took me into his workroom deep inside the castle of
Bligenstone. I began the first days of the end of my life there within the
kings royal armory learning to work stone and steel. My father taught
me every detail, every fine crafting secret passed to him by his father, and
his fathers father. Learning engraving and inlay of different metals, along
with some rudimentary stone cutting were among the first abilities I
learned. At first all seemed well. I loved to watch the glistening of the
gems as I brought forth their beauty, but that glory soon faded into the
realization that this would be my life until I die, and I was not prepared
for that. After a long time dwelling on the thought of my future, I finally
decided it would not be for me although I was left with the question what
would be? One day fate played its hand and I found the beginning to the
rest of my life. While I walked from our home on the outlaying streets of
the city to the castle I came across a vicious drowish warrior creeping
through the dark streets. When I approached he noticed me and leaped
forward before I could even say a word, springing into the fray of battle
with me. Dropping the rucksack I was carrying all the weapons and
armor spilled out. I grabbed a short sword out of gut reaction and thrust
out at my assailant luckily gashing his stomach wide open. Just as he fell
to the ground a herd several loud burst of muffled voices echoing from
the forge. I raced down the hallway as fast as I could, so without
hesitation I burst through the forge doors and inside. My father and
younger brother were at the points of more drowish men, and their razor
sharp swords and daggers. Breaking the code of the Bligenstone forgers I
charged into battle fiercely dispatching two out of the three men while the
last escaped through the demolished forge doors. When I saw the final
assailant flee I fell to the ground gasping for breath only to be slugged up
side my head and sent into a deep sleep. I awoke from my slumber in the
back of my home, with my father overlooking me, where I began the first
of my punishment. I was no longer able to join within the family tradition,
although my younger brother took my place, gem and forge craft were no
longer my bindings. It is a strange feeling of relief and shame to know I
couldnt continue my current path though relieved to know I could pursue
that which got me in trouble in the first place. I began to study swordplay
in every facet I could, often times using my fathers grand creations as my
practicing tools. For another forty years I devoted my life to such a fluid
study of weaponry. Upon my fifty first birthday I first set foot above
ground. The stench of the air, and scorching light nearly knocked me to
the ground at first. Soon I completed my reed raft and set off down the
river, first coming to a great city. The city was strange, crumbling,
burning and its inhabitants fearing for their lives and still staggered from
the experience.