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[rabidsquirrel]

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Sits comfortably in his cozy chair in his Feluccian Minoc home. He begins dreaming of a time that haunts him and tells the story to any that will hear it.

I was a young lad then. Every morning I would drink my cup of coffee with my mother. I'd help er as much as I could. My dad spent his days crafting. He was certunly the best there ever was. No one for cities around could compete with his abilities. Oh the times... the times were great. I respected my father as much as any son could. I tried to learn the ways of his art, but I could not do it. I was a failure at every attempt. The wood didn't grace my hands like it did his. The metal wouldn't bend like it did for him. So one day, he made me something... a kryss. It was light enough for my young hands to hold onto, and fast enough to match. I dazed into dreams of what I could do with it. That same night, I was awaken in my sleep. The door was beaten down, and madmen stormed into my boyhood home. I ran into the doorway to see my mother screaming in fear. My father rushed at him with his hammer, but he was a crafter and not a warrior. They pierced his stomach with a blade of minor strength. It was of poor quality, and my father could not match even it in battle. They grabbed my mother and ran! They rode off into the night. After hours of searching, I stumbled upon her resting place. She had been hung into a tree. She told me of the terrible things that had been placed upon her. The madmen had beaten her... cursed into her ears, and spoiled her womb. My ears bled with the pain of my mother's words. She had been hanging for what must have been hours. The noose was loose around her neck. They had not intended for the hanging to kill her. They wanted her to suffer... to hang til she couldn't anymore. As her strength finally gave out, she whispered one last thing to me. "Those that cause harm will have harm returned. Those that love wilt receive blessings untold. I love thee... " And she passed.

That is where I came from. That is who I am. I am a man without cause, without family, without dreams, and without hope. I live day by day wielding blades, struggling to survive. Madmen still pass my home, and today I still spit at their passing. One day I'll return the deed they gave to me. Pray thee well mother. I can only do what thou didst teach.

Bows his head in memory


Lone Warrior
Johnny Feelgood