|
Date Created: September, 2002 He stood there. Stained from head to toe. Doused in blood and dirt. His hair stained in the same manner, covering most of his face, concealing the imprinted feeling of fear affixed to it, and his eyes which upon look would make a viewer crumble in sympathy and wish till the end of his days that he had not seen such sadness in any soul upon the earth. To his right, covered in a soft layer of dirt was the glinting of a large war axe. Moments ago, it had been spotless, unused, and resting upon the wall mount. Now the mark of revenge could be seen merely by a glance upon the head of it. His panting drowned out his thoughts. He wiped the sweat off his face, it stung with undulant pain, but yet he seemed to stare straight forward unflinching. His shirt dripped blood onto the floor where the droplet vanished into a seemingly larger puddle. The puddle, knee deep, ran down towards the grass where it trailed off leaving dead grass where it went. The distant sound of clanging metal became louder and louder. It wasnt even 5 minutes when he looked up, brushing his hair out of the way. And there they stood; four guards at least a foot taller than him, donned in full armor carrying sharpened halberds. Their armor reflected the sun into his eyes. He raised his hand to block it, trying to examine them further. He stared into the tallest ones eyes. The guards eyes stared back at him showing a need for explanation. He cleared his throat, got on one knee and spoke. Who has killed Mr. and Mrs. Ebodious? he bellowed. They surveyed the scene, noticing the war axe at his foot. Their iron plate legs were already drenched in the puddle of blood. One guard stood on the corpse of a grizzly bear. All around them laid dead bears of all kinds. In front, by the door lay two human corpses holding one another with gashes all over. Their eyes were wide opened and filled with blood. Unable to say a word and fearing he might be accused for killing his parents, the child grabbed his axe and ran thought his house. On his way, he managed to grab his backpack from his room and leapt out of his back window. He tripped. Caught his foot on the windowsill, and simply fell face first smack onto the dirt ground. The guards were advancing on him. A howl came as a small black figure jumped from the roof to the side of the boy. The animal howled even louder. In moments dark shadows began appearing through the thickets of the dark forests of Yew. The panthers formed a circle around the boy and the other panther. Regaining his ground, he grabbed his axe and ran with Truliant as fast as he could. The other panthers lunged at the guards dodging their halberd swipes. Soon the guards brought the last panther down and they all fled in the woods, but when the guards looked for the boy, he was nowhere in site. The boy ran through the woods, never looking back. Following the illuminated path by the moon with his pet at side, he eventually couldnt see where he was going and prayed that Truliant was still with him. He ran through a puddle of mud and fell yet again. The blood on his body ran off into the puddle, but dampening his shirt even more. He tried to regain his strength to lift himself out, but couldnt. His strength had wandered elsewhere after slaying the bears that killed his parents. And at that moment, he passed out. - - - - - He opened his eyes. All he could see was endless white. Am I in heaven? He thought to himself. He turned every which way, the white was everywhere, but there was nothing else. So this is heaven? he thought. Wheres everyone else? Am I the first? Then he felt the most excruciating pain in his stomach. He cringed in pain. His first reaction was to bring his hands to cover his stomach and comfort it. He tried, no luck. Son of a Bit.ch! My hands are stuck! And it was true, for they were held as tightly as possible by a chain of brambles. His hands began to sear with pain as he pulled tighter, digging the spikes deeper into his skin. Bit.ch! Then he got kicked again and once again tried to protect his stomach. He tried to get up and immediately fell back down smashing his head into the ground. He balled up into the fetal position and began weeping. And then he heard a loud husky voice speak in poor English. The little bugger cant even defend himself! Following it was a whole bunch of laughter. Whowho did this to me? the boy demanded through his tears. So now he thinks were going to give him an answer. Said the same voice. Once again, laughter followed. Go back to sleep kid. He slowly murmured the name of his pet, hoping that his one only friend that saved him was still alive. And so he tried to fall asleep because he knew he was helpless. However, he was unable to through all the laughter and noises. He remained awake still, eavesdropping on their every word. Herlieus, go grab me a sword from the wall, I need to practice for tonight. Then the boy heard footsteps walking right near him grabbing something from behind him, perhaps the sword, and walking back. The sounds of talking eventually sent him into a daze. He relived the previous day from start to end trying to grasp reality, realizing what happened, blaming himself for everything even though nothing was his fault. He listened for a while to the clanging swords, got bored, and fell asleep. When he awoke everything was pitch black and he heard not a sound. He figured the bandits must be out or sleeping so he tried wriggling free, no use. Then he remembered what he heard earlier about weaponry behind him. He squirmed backwards trying to feel where he was until his head hit something. A loud clang followed and he felt a heavy object in between his legs. He let the sword fall through his legs and hit the ground. He slid along the ground scraping the bramble handcuffs along the sword. The freedom of his hands felt better than any feeling of relief he had ever experienced before. He tried balling his fist and could barely do it without the pain of a thousand needles digging into his wrist. His next move was to reach for the pillowcase covering his head. He was afraid to remove it for fear of what might lie in front of him, but to his luck there was no one directly near him. He sat in a large chamber with torches along the farthest wall from him and a big black door. The room was quite primitive and seemed to be a decorated cave. He got to his feet only to fall back down. His feet were still tied. He cut the rope holding them together and got to his feet successfully grabbing his axe and backpack. Scanning the room he noticed a cage in the far right corner made of metal. Inside it was Truliant pacing back and forth silently as not to awake the bandit sleeping against the wall right near him. The boy ran over to the panther and searched for a way to open the box. A keyhole glinted in the torchlight. The boy put two and two together and began to reach for the bandits belt. Sweat ran down his face and fear was glowing in his eyes. He reached further until the key was in his hand. He slowly unhooked it from the belt bringing it to the keyhole. He slipped the key in. Yes. He heard a rustling. No. Then a hand was on his shirt. He screamed for help. No one was around. He tried running away but it proved ineffective, as the bandits grip remained the same. Struggling with all his might, he fell face first to the ground. The bandit pulled back his hand and looked at the claw marks on it holding it tightly to his chest, whimpering. The boy realized that he would get caught if he tried to rescue his panther and decided that he would return another day for the panther. He rose to his feet as fast as his legs carried him and bolted towards the large door, swinging it open, disappearing at the woods edge once again. He washed his hand in the crystal stream clenching his teeth in the doing so. Over the past few days, he had been dealt the most painful experiences of his lifetime and tried coping over them. He thought endlessly as his blood trailed through the water downstream, cleansing his wrists in the process. He cried for hours on end until he realized that life goes on and there has got to be somewhere for him. He traveled through the woods, companionless; heading south, or at least what he hoped was south. For many days and nights he slept in the treetops to avoid danger and gained good distances per day. When he got hungry, he hunted deer and ate them raw. Days grew onto weeks and weeks grew onto months. He managed to make himself a walking stick out of carved wood and many other necessities. He continued to walk in the same direction fearing that the forest would never end. The boy woke up one day to the sound of rustling leaves and footsteps through the forest. By now he had learned everything about the woods and knew what every sound was and how to avoid any danger. He looked around to where he heard the noises and at the foot of the tree to his right stood a lumberjack whistling to himself cutting logs. Feeling safe, the boy jumped down and startled the man by accident. The man turned around quickly with his axe straight out, almost cutting the boys head off. Hey there, feller. Whatcha doin in a god fersaken place like this. This aint no place fer kids ter be playin around. He said. Sorry sir, could you possibly tell me where we are and which way to the nearest town? the boy asked politely. Why surely lil feller. Aintcha knowin that this here land be Trinsic Territory. Just head on over east thater way and yell be on the outskirts of town. Did he just say Trinsic? The boy smiled and thanked the man running out of the forest kissing the ground at the edge. He got up again and ran through the town glancing at every house looking for a sign. Slow down there, boy! Who is that? shouted an old man in his 60s who sat rocking on a chair in front of a large marble shop. The boy turned to the old man and a smile snapped onto his face. The first one since the day he ran away from Yew. The old man spoke again, Is that you? Knoxilian? No, it cant be! Grandpa! shouted the boy as he ran towards the old mans wide open arms. They embraced. I could hath sworn you for a dead boy Knox! the old man said. How did ye manage to get here? The boy too excited to explain rushed in the house to hug his grandma, avoiding his grandpas question. That was the end of that topic for as long as he lived with his grandparents. Not a day went by where the old man didnt think of asking the boy, but he still refrained. He figured that time would give way, but for him it didnt. So Knox grew up in Trinsic living with his grandpa and grandma until he felt it was time to move on. His grandpa brought him into the family business and taught him every trick of the trade. Carpentry wasnt easy at first to Knox, since his hands would barely bend at first, but soon the bramble punctures were nothing more than scars and his hands moved with the finest delicacy of anyone in Trinsic. He spent all day crafting toys for other children and mini panther figurines, painting them black. He never forgot about Truliant and thought about him every night before he went to sleep. Thought about going back to save him, or whatever was left of him. One day, Knox woke up bright and early to make breakfast for his grandparents. He set the table with the finest tablecloth and china. He put some eggs and bacon in the pan by the fireplace and went into his grandparents room to wake them up. He kissed his grandmother on the head and she kissed him on the cheek. He told her to wake up his grandfather and come into the kitchen for breakfast. He walked back into the kitchen. His feet were glued to the floor. Not because of anything on the floor, but because of the piercing scream of his grandmother coming from the bedroom. He recovered quickly and rushed toward the bedroom to find his grandmother standing at the door. What beith the matter? Art thou hurt? he asked.. She stood there gazing at him her mouth wide upon moving back and forth, but making no sound. She raised her right hand and pointed towards the bed where his grandfather laid perfectly still, one hand falling off the side of the bed. Knox walked over to his grandfather and nudged him slightly. He still slept. He tried to pick him up out of bed; he fell to the floor smashing his head against the floor. Knox realized what had happened to his old man. He backed up towards the wall leaning against it, slowly falling down into the fetal position as he had down many times before. He stayed there for about an hour wallowing back and forth crying to himself, his grandmother laying across from him leaning against the bed staring at her husband until the smell of smoke wafted into the room. Knox smelled it first and looked quite puzzled as to where the smoke was coming from. He managed to pull his sadness together to get up and wander around the house. He walked towards the kitchen but was stopped by a wall of flames that was slowly advancing around the house. He ran back towards the bedroom and ran to pick up his grandmother. His grandmother held tightly onto her husband not letting go. Grandma! he screamed. The house is on fire! We must go! No! I am going to stay here with my husband! she cried. Knox unable to think of a way to stop the fire grabbed his axe and cut down the wall to the outside. He ripped his grandmother free from her grip to his grandfather and carried her squirming body out of the house. Other citizens gathered in the street to watch Trinsics greatest carpentry shop burn to nothing more than ashes, along with Trinsics greatest carpenter. All the time Knox and his grandmother were embracing each other while watching the house collapse and their lives with it. The next morning, Knox woke up in the inn and rose to his feet. He started to walk toward the door, but his feet hit small objects on the floor. He looked down to see a large amount of money lying there on the floor and a note on the nightstand from the whole town. He cried tears of joy and ran to his grandmothers room next door to tell her what happened. She didnt seem enthusiastic about it, but then again she had lost a lot more the previous day then he had. Eventually, the two got up and at midday they found an architect willing to build a house twice the size of their original house. The days passed as Knox and his grandmother lived in the inn paying little to no boarding fee. The house production went swiftly and in about a year, the home was complete and Knox and his grandmother moved in. Knox then went to the local lumberjack whom he once met inside the woods and ordered weekly supplies of logs. Knox and his grandmother continued to rebuild whatever they had emotionally and physically. Everyday Knox prayed to god that his life wouldnt get any worse, and it seemed that his prayers paid off. Knox made more than his grandfather had ever made crafting chairs, tables, and other things for the citizens. He continued to stay in business for another 12 years until he grew to the age of 30. By then he had made enough money to sail to Britain and leave his grandma enough money to sustain her for the end of her days. The day had come where Knox had planned to leave. He woke up bright and early saying goodbyes to everyone from the town. When he arrived at the ship, flowers were covering his cabin completely. He eventually sailed away across the crystal clear ocean to Britain. At one moment he had considered heading in the other direction back towards Yew to find an old friend, but he soon gave up that dream realizing that his dearest friend now lived inside of him and gave him the strength and courage that helped him through his years. With a final farewell to this dream, he went into his cabin unwrapping his axe from his childhood. He carried the axe up onto the boat deck and tossed it off into the ocean. And with it he thought of all the horrible events that he had been through with the axe and silently whispered Good riddance. The boat docked in the Britain harbor on the 3rd day at 7 in the morning. Knox stepped off the ship with his backpack slung over one shoulder. So this is where dreams come true. In the distance, Knox noticed the scurrying of a large black cat between the trees. Knox knew that the cat was watching him at every moment, but the time to meet an old friend wasnt in his agenda at the exact time. A smile worked its way onto his face as he walked into the town throwing his old life away. Well most of it. --From the forums
Roleplays as: Woodworker who came from Trinsic to start a new life. He spends most of his time in the woods and when justice needs to be done, he does his fair share. |