Post by welshtigan on Mar 7, 2006 11:09:32 GMT -5
To be a human born and raised in Lurien was, as Dashel was constantly reminded growing up, perhaps an unusual thing, but not unheard of.
In most cases, the relatively few humans had kept to themselves, as did the more numerous elves, but Dashel's family had apparently edged their way in to athe Commonwealth in Luiriund, and both Dashel and her sister Ariene loved that early life, playing with the local hin children and, after a while, being amused at one poor hin who apparently couldn't decide which of the two sisters he liked most.
Both also found their roles in hin society; Ariene leaving with some friends for Beluir, and sending a message back saying that she was now a novice in the church of Yondalla.
Shortly before that happened, Dashel had proven herself to the local militia. She knew that part of her supposedly above average talent was the simple fact that she was a fair bit bigger and stronger than a hin - any hin - could be, and the inhabitants of the Mortick Swamp kept her and the rest of the militia busy for the next few years.
While a hin would have wandered off after a few years in the militia to try a few years of farming or building or something else, Dashel was one of the few who turned down the chance and stayed with the militia.
In time, though, she began to grow a little too sure of herself, a little too arrogant, and when her patrol found what seemed to be the resting place of two or three scrags, her arrogance came to the fore. Rather than reporting this find, Dashel chose to have her patrol wait nearby, and attack the moment the scrags returned, or to leave and report after a day.
That night, things started well enough, but Dashel's incomplete search of the area had failed to locate several similar places, and instead of two or three of the aquatic trolls, there was about nine.
The fight that followed was particularly nasty, with fifteen of the twenty-strong patrol dying, and Dashel having to be dragged out of the swamp to Chethel, the nearest of the two cities by the swamp.
While Dashel was fortunate enough that the injury to her eye hadn't killed her, she still had to face the fact that it was her fault that fifteen hin - fifteen people that she knew and liked well - had died because of her.
It had been her duty to patrol, to look for such places as she had found and report them for a larger force to destroy, but she had gotten full of herself, and decided to do it all by herself. And fifteen people had died.
Although her sister, who was now a priestess in Chethel, tried to comfort her, Dashel couldn't deal with what she had done, and ran northwards.
Her flight was cut short, however, by an old man in Beluir.
Dashel never quite knew why she had talked to him, but she was more than a little drunk at the time.
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"Let me get this straight," the man said. "You messed up down south, got a lot of people killed, and now you're running away?"
Dash sighed, having yet another drink. "I failed them. I had a duty to do, a duty to them, and I failed both. How could I stay?"
The man paused for a few moments before speaking again. "Duty's that important to you, is it?"
She nodded. "What else is there? Really? And I failed them. Twice."
She reached for her flagon, but the man reached out and took it away from her. "You failed them thrice girl. Running away isn't what your duty is, is it?"
"And what would you know about it, old man?" Just as she didn't quite know why she was having this conversation, Dashel wasn't quite sure why she was feeling so angry.
The man didn't answer, but reached down his shirt and pulled out a small piece of metal in the shape of a gauntlet that had apparently been on a chain around his neck.
Even sober it would have probably taken Dashel a moment or two to remember the significance of it, but eventually understanding found her mind.
"Torm." Dashel wasn't scared, and somehow not surprised, but somewhere between the two.
"Yes," the man said. "Torm. I know more about duty than you ever will, girl, if you keep on like this." He paused, thinking. Then; "You failed your friends, both living and dead. And you're just going to wander around, drinking and further failing them, aren't you?" Another pause. "You won't think you deserve this, but here's another chance. I am, as you may have noticed, getting old. I am also a knight of Torm. Getting into full armour is difficult for a young man onn his own, and age doesn't help. Here's your duty; serve me well and faithfully as squire, and as you fulfill your duty, you will begin to atone for you failure here. It will probably take you the rest of your life."
Dashel blinked in surprise. She most certainly hadn't been expecting that.
"I ... I accept," she said, her mouth somehow acting while her brain wasn't.
The old man, Anderas, managed to both stop Dashel's drinking before it got too bad, and give the young woman a duty in life again. When he died two years later, she knew that she had a duty to follow after him, and as a paldin of Torm to find and remove any evil and injustice that she could find. Still young, and still trying to make amends for her failure before, she found herself in Isinhold.
In most cases, the relatively few humans had kept to themselves, as did the more numerous elves, but Dashel's family had apparently edged their way in to athe Commonwealth in Luiriund, and both Dashel and her sister Ariene loved that early life, playing with the local hin children and, after a while, being amused at one poor hin who apparently couldn't decide which of the two sisters he liked most.
Both also found their roles in hin society; Ariene leaving with some friends for Beluir, and sending a message back saying that she was now a novice in the church of Yondalla.
Shortly before that happened, Dashel had proven herself to the local militia. She knew that part of her supposedly above average talent was the simple fact that she was a fair bit bigger and stronger than a hin - any hin - could be, and the inhabitants of the Mortick Swamp kept her and the rest of the militia busy for the next few years.
While a hin would have wandered off after a few years in the militia to try a few years of farming or building or something else, Dashel was one of the few who turned down the chance and stayed with the militia.
In time, though, she began to grow a little too sure of herself, a little too arrogant, and when her patrol found what seemed to be the resting place of two or three scrags, her arrogance came to the fore. Rather than reporting this find, Dashel chose to have her patrol wait nearby, and attack the moment the scrags returned, or to leave and report after a day.
That night, things started well enough, but Dashel's incomplete search of the area had failed to locate several similar places, and instead of two or three of the aquatic trolls, there was about nine.
The fight that followed was particularly nasty, with fifteen of the twenty-strong patrol dying, and Dashel having to be dragged out of the swamp to Chethel, the nearest of the two cities by the swamp.
While Dashel was fortunate enough that the injury to her eye hadn't killed her, she still had to face the fact that it was her fault that fifteen hin - fifteen people that she knew and liked well - had died because of her.
It had been her duty to patrol, to look for such places as she had found and report them for a larger force to destroy, but she had gotten full of herself, and decided to do it all by herself. And fifteen people had died.
Although her sister, who was now a priestess in Chethel, tried to comfort her, Dashel couldn't deal with what she had done, and ran northwards.
Her flight was cut short, however, by an old man in Beluir.
Dashel never quite knew why she had talked to him, but she was more than a little drunk at the time.
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"Let me get this straight," the man said. "You messed up down south, got a lot of people killed, and now you're running away?"
Dash sighed, having yet another drink. "I failed them. I had a duty to do, a duty to them, and I failed both. How could I stay?"
The man paused for a few moments before speaking again. "Duty's that important to you, is it?"
She nodded. "What else is there? Really? And I failed them. Twice."
She reached for her flagon, but the man reached out and took it away from her. "You failed them thrice girl. Running away isn't what your duty is, is it?"
"And what would you know about it, old man?" Just as she didn't quite know why she was having this conversation, Dashel wasn't quite sure why she was feeling so angry.
The man didn't answer, but reached down his shirt and pulled out a small piece of metal in the shape of a gauntlet that had apparently been on a chain around his neck.
Even sober it would have probably taken Dashel a moment or two to remember the significance of it, but eventually understanding found her mind.
"Torm." Dashel wasn't scared, and somehow not surprised, but somewhere between the two.
"Yes," the man said. "Torm. I know more about duty than you ever will, girl, if you keep on like this." He paused, thinking. Then; "You failed your friends, both living and dead. And you're just going to wander around, drinking and further failing them, aren't you?" Another pause. "You won't think you deserve this, but here's another chance. I am, as you may have noticed, getting old. I am also a knight of Torm. Getting into full armour is difficult for a young man onn his own, and age doesn't help. Here's your duty; serve me well and faithfully as squire, and as you fulfill your duty, you will begin to atone for you failure here. It will probably take you the rest of your life."
Dashel blinked in surprise. She most certainly hadn't been expecting that.
"I ... I accept," she said, her mouth somehow acting while her brain wasn't.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
The old man, Anderas, managed to both stop Dashel's drinking before it got too bad, and give the young woman a duty in life again. When he died two years later, she knew that she had a duty to follow after him, and as a paldin of Torm to find and remove any evil and injustice that she could find. Still young, and still trying to make amends for her failure before, she found herself in Isinhold.