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Veshtan Soulblaze
Posted: 01 Nov 2003 07:43 PM |
Hello everyone, i just though i'd give you a bit of insight into my life....like most of you, i'm new to this land, and a friendship must always start somewhere, must it not?
Veshtan Soulblaze....it sounds like a reasonably good name, doesn't it? A little flashy, yes, but certainly not pretentious. Not that Soulblaze is my given name. My father continually said i wasn't fit for my original sirname.....it seems those we're the only words ever heard coming from him as i grew up. "Veshtan, you're not worth a dang." "Why do you always have to get into so much trouble, boy??" "You'd think your mother and i could have created a child with more intelligence, but i'll be damned if i can see any." Not that i'm ignorant....i was just more...rambunctious.....then most children. Trouble was my middle name....or so my mother told me....and i tried my best to live up to it...or so it seemed to them.
I tried to be a good child...honestly. But i constantly found myself in situations that there was no easy way out of. Like that time in Farmer Begram's sweet potato patch. Now there's nothing i like better then sweet potatos...and i was so hungry for some that i couldn't resist. So i snuck out one night and pilfered a few. Pilfered seems like a better word then steal, doesn't it? Anyway, i needed to cook them, and being the industrious 9 year old i was, i figured the hay inside Farmer Begram's barn would make a good start for a fire. Who would have thought a barn could burn down so fast? Not that it was nearly so hot as my backside was after Pa got ahold of me. He had to pay Farmer Begram a rather handsome sum of money to repair that barn. Well...rebuild it actually. I seem to be good with fire....well....fire starting anyway.
Which reminds me of another time....i think i was 11. I and a couple of my cohorts, Sammi and Jeb, we decided we were gonna play wizards. Now like most young boys....playing soldier was our main occupation...but you can only beat sticks together for so long before you decide you're bored and a new game must be found. Now i was lucky....my father owned the best inn this side of the Yellow Rock hills. Well at least the best in town. So he had enough money to pay for my.....mishaps. Well...on with the story....now i mentioned the inn because my father always had a full tavern....so he always needed lots of ale and other harder drinks. So we got the great idea that sticking a bit of clothe inside bottles of brandy and lighting them then throwing them would make a fair representation of a fireball. Great idea, no? We even managed to scrounge up enough intelligence to realize that throwing them near houses would be a baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaad idea. Don't ask me how we came up with that. Young boys are odd....the more of them you gather together, the lower their respective intelligence gets. *shakes head* We trundled ourselves out to an abandoned field next to Jeb's farm. Things we're going marvelously. We'd pitch a bottle and it would hit the ground and burst into a lovely display of flames. Then we got to the last bottle. Being young boys, it was natural to argue of whom would get the last throw. Sammi grabbed the bottle, Jeb dived on top of him, i proceeded to pile on yet Sammi somehow managed to wriggle out from under us and light the bottle. He started to give it a mighty heave when Jeb hit him again....the bottle flew on an errant trajectory.....right into Jeb's father's wheat field. Somehow all of this became MY fault over the next two days. It wasn't like *I* came up with the whole idea or provided all the brandy or anything.......okay...so maybe i did. But i DID NOT throw the bottle...and that had to be worth something....right? Wrong. Pa wouldn't let me out of the house for weeks.
Soon after he put me to work in the tavern. Cleaning tables after hours, doing the dishes, making sure all the lamps were trimmed and set. You know...all the basic tortures any parent normally inflicts their child with. Chores.....what a nicely benign word for such a horrible and hellish punishment. Not that it stopped me from sneaking off for more mischief. As i grew, i became stronger....more fit....wielding a sword somehow became my goal in life. I'm sure it was because of the countless adventurers that came traipsing threw on their way to fortune and glory. Funny how a youth notices them coming threw, all full of themselves, yet never notices them coming back, downtrodden.....or never coming back at all.
So....you're probably wondering where all this is leading, yes? Ah...don't worry, i'm getting to the straw that broke the camel's back. Funny saying, isn't that? I've heard it a few times. Don't have a clue what a camel is...or what it looks like....but it must be awful weak if a piece of straw could break it's back.
So it's my 17th birthday....and after many trials and tribulations....i seem to have somehow fooled my father into thinking i'm more responsible. Another word i hate....responsible. You'd think i was supposed to be HIS age or something, for all the "responsibility" he wanted to dump on me. Anyway...he's talking about paying me for my work in the tavern. PAYING me? I thought i was hearing things. Actual MONEY? Just think of all the trouble i could get into .....er....i mean....well....nevermind that. Yes, it was only a few coppers a week, but that wasn't bad. Certainly more then anything my other friends we're getting. Then again, i didn't realize until later just how lucky i had it. My father was rather rich...though that's not something a boy thinks about. I was starting to grasp the concept as i got older, because my clothes were always nicer then my friends....and i never seemed to want for anything....except for a girl. Wenches.....that's what many of the men in the tavern referred to them as. Not to the lady adventurers, of course....they'd lose their tongue. There were several very pretty ones that worked for my father. He caught me flirting with one when i was 15. She must have been twice my age...but she certainly didn't seem to mind. Boy did my father, though. Mind, that is. The glare he gave her was hotter then all the levels of hell, i'd imagine. Of course, so was my backside after that. Which was another problem....my father was not just a big man...he was huge...and no matter how tall i got, i always seemed to be a foot shorter then he was. So...back to the money. I started saving that money....and guess what i bought. Yep...a sword. It wasn't fancy...but in my eyes it was the most beautiful thing in the world. I was gonna be an adventurer. I'd come home 5 years from now, rich in my own right, and show my father that i didn't need his constant tongue thrashing to make a living.
Still being young at heart....when i bought that shiny new sword....the first thing i wanted to do was to use it. I had to go test it on something. Now i HAD learned to listen...at least to some of the fighters that came through. You didn't actually think i meant my father, did you? That'd be a miracle that no god could perform. Back on track, i KNEW that swinging at stumps and posts was bad for a sword....i'd just have to sharpen it sooner. So i'm walking down the street, my chest puffed out, strutting for all the world to see with my sword in it's scabbard, belted around my waist and my hand on the pommel. This is when things got ugly. Lemond, the mayor's son, saw me. Now everyone in town knows what an a$ he is. But he's the mayor's son....you can't touch him. No matter how inane and belligerent he may act, he's hands off. Or the mayor will have the sheriff haul you off to jail. It wasn't fair, but it was reality, and we all knew it, Sammi, Jeb and I. So where was i? Oh yes....walking down the street, on my way to see my friends and show off....and....disaster. Not of my making. Yes, i was good at making disaster...but this was NOT my fault. I won't go into details, but Lemond said some rather uncomplimentary things. I was willing to let it pass....but he wanted to goad me into a fight. He thought he was rather handy with a sword....he'd been taking lessons. I guess he wanted to try them out on me. I started to walk past and he said something that angered me so greatly, i couldn't let it go.
"I hope you don't think you're going to be getting Karri any time soon. She's just my type...and i know how to give her what she wants."
Karri was one of Pa's barmaids. She was young. She was beautiful. I was sure i was in love. And i wasn't about to let such a rude comment go unpunished. I drew my sword before i even knew what i was doing....everything else was a haze. I only remember Lemond dropping his sword to grab his other hand...of which i had severed two fingers. I knew i was in trouble. Brawling was one thing....this....this would be bad. I ran home as quickly as possible. In through the back door....and right into my father. His face was white....it was the first time in my life i had seen him afraid. The one time in my life i hadn't been looking to cause trouble....and it had found me instead. The consequences would be dire. Somehow, Pa had already known what had happened. He gave me 5 gold pieces, and told me that he loved and to go...and not ever come back. Those last words hurt more then i ever thought they could. After all the anger, and the ranting about wanting to leave and that i hated him....i felt like crying. I didn't hate him...i just wanted to stay and say i'm sorry, but i couldn't. Father would be in enough trouble as it was. As long as i could get away, perhaps most of the blame, and effort, could be deflected to finding, and killing, me. Oh yes, i knew what would happen. You don't do something like what i did to so prominent a personage and not realize that death is the consequence...right or wrong.
So i took the gold, a princely sum to me, though i cared not at the moment, and ran. I ran as fast as i could, with only a sword, some money and the clothes on my back, i ran.
Now here i am. 18, looking for work, or adventure...or anything that will put food in my belly and wishing that i hadn't had to grow up quite so fast...even though i had been wishing the exact opposite only months ago.
Now don't give me that sad face. It's not all bad. I've still got my sword...and my life. I just saw a pretty girl a day ago.....who thought the world had so many? All i need are some friends. Any takers? The years have calmed me....honest. Don't roll your eyes. Okay, but i can be lots of fun...how's that? And Trouble is NOT my middle name...those are just rumors told by....well....me.....i guess. But i'm turning over a new leaf starting now!
So once again...any takers? |
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Re: Veshtan Soulblaze
Posted: 02 Nov 2003 07:36 AM |
| ((*applauds* Well written! Interesting and enjoyable; hope to see you IG sometime)) |
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Re: Veshtan Soulblaze
Posted: 05 Nov 2003 03:34 PM |
| A very moving tale, Veshtan! I hate bullies, too. You got a bum rap, man. I'm up for fun and adventure, though! I'll be your friend! |
Danariel Moonbow
"Man is not a rational animal, he is a rationalizing animal." ~Robert A |
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Re: Veshtan Soulblaze
Posted: 05 Nov 2003 03:55 PM |
Well I happen to think Vesh is a trouble maker. *sticks her toungue out at him*
And just so you know I'm the younger "sis" Vesh!
*smiles*
*Akasha |
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