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I wish I could explain my name a little, but my parents never told me what it meant. Not that it really matters of course, call me what you want
just don't call me late to a fight.
I'm not really sure where I came from, other than the strange half memory of incessant rains, and a deck of playing cards.
Now I'm sure you're all going 'Great, another one who has no memory of his childhood, how typical.' It's not quite like that I'm getting old memory isn't what it
used to be.... anyway. I had a normal life. Free of tyranny, no one held mastery over me, save my parents who
are thankfully not dead, or at least I don't think they are...
Naturally when I reached my years of youth, I was filled with the urge to make a name of myself, partly thanks to my parents retelling
old stories of ancient heroes, and mythical lands. I too wanted to be in a story... little did I know that words truely fail what happens in a battle,
and words cannot describe the fear that takes hold of you when you face a myth made real.
I inherited my father's penchant for betting, yes, betting, not gambling there's a difference. Betting is a man's sport, gamble is what you do with your
life on a daily basis. Or at least that's what my mother had told me.
Games of dice and cards weren't exactly my strong point, but the betting of who would win a fight, or just the idle banter of what someone will
do was something I was comfortable doing.
I had a bet once with my father, the deal was to see how long we could go without mother beaning us with a broom for any shenanigans we'd
get into. We both lost, mother caught us in the hayloft with several sacks of dried fruits, at the time I was worried the lump on my head would never go
away.
My father was always full of stories from his fishing trips, sailing far over the horizon. He'd talk of lands he'd only seen, the people living on the shores staring
at the ship in wonder, and now and again they'd come across an island where people just rolled their eyes at the ship. The truely terrifying ones were
those that spoke of ancient beings in the deep, enormous arms like tree trunks flailing out of the water, and giant eyes staring through the cannon holes.
These were second hand accounts, but no less terrifying. Deep water still holds a great deal of fear for me to this day, especially when one of the monsters that
my father spoke of washed up on the shore at night, a humungous fish it looked like, dead from being out of the water too long, and there were large bite
marks out of its sides.
It was the spring just before I became of age, when my family went into the city for our annual trip in. The excitement of going to the city had worn
off, having been anywhere worth seeing several times already, and anywhere I hadn't been I was still forbidden to enter. (I still curse that in between stage of
youth and man, you're too old for things that used to entertain you, and yet too young for the new things... very frustrating)
There were crowds of people gathered in the square, white cloaked men and women with blue garments underneath spoke of a land beyond the Vast Desert,
a land that fought against the forces of darkness that threaten our existance.
My father listened with a skeptical face, and snorted at their claims of righteousness.
'Only fools go off on a crusade, it's a pointless endeavour.' he muttered, rubbing his forehead
One of the white cloaked people heard him and stepped down off his stage, approaching my father.
'Do you really think it pointless?'
'It's people like you that just need to learn to live, and let be.'
'These demons will overwhelm you in numbers you cannot imagine, would you wish your boy to become their slave?'
'My boy, and my family will not be slave to no one, least of all you, preacher.'
'Do you reject our ways?'
'I reject anyone who claims to be the only solution, there are other ways of living, not just your's, now stop dictating to these fair people and
take your sermons elsewhere.'
This confrontation had gathered quite a crowd, many people were watching my father and the white garbed man closely, expecting a fight.
My father was one prone to a bit of a temper when people started telling him what to do without seeing his point of view, this man looked to have
struck upon that same nerve.
'I'm not dictating any-'
'Yes you are! You're going off on how pure and just your civilization is, calling us 'lost' and that you have come to save us from this... Golgonath.'
'We have, we fight to protect all those who cannot defend themselves'
'And what makes you think we're helpless?'
The white man suddenly stopped, his face churning for thought.
'Exactly. Come on... lets just get to the caravans and get this trip over with. Pyrok, mind yourself.'
My father and mother stepped off into the crowd, my father watching the strangers warily. The man rubbed his face, muttering to himself, after a moment he realised I still
stood nearby, a look of mild confusion on my face.
'Your father seems to be a stubborn man, child.' said a blue robed woman, stepping lightly in her slippers.
'My people have always been 'stubborn'. Did you think we'd willingly change our ways to serve you? What would be in it for us?'
'Acceptance into the Light, for one thing. Vanquishing evil from the world is a righteous cause.'
'What makes these people so evil?'
'They make pacts with devils, deal in dark power and sacrifice innocents to fuel their evil designs.'
'And they view themselves as good I suppose?'
'In a way, I suppose they do.'
'Yes or no.'
Again the stunned silence, I was beginning to wonder with people as devout as these two, had they ever encountered someone who questioned their speeches?
Without waiting for an answer, I turned and walked to a tavern I liked to be in from time to time. I'd win alot at cards in here, and maybe even manage to evade the two strangers
trying to... well, trying to convert me.
Next to the fire, and I mean really close, was a solitary man, dressed in crimson. His face was hidden under a large hat, but I could feel eyes watching me intently.
I blinked and I was beside the fire with him, a vague memory of a silent command forced into my head.
I still couldn't see his eyes, but I could see thin lips twisted into a smile, revealing stained teeth that looked almost like fangs.
'So, you didn't fall for the Elysians' prattle, maybe there is some hope for your people yet.'
I blinked, initially not comprehending who the 'Elysians' were, but the strangers outside were obviously who he spoke of.
'Naturally their fervor blinds them to the fact their 'enemy' is near. I'm not actually their foe. I just took a different path, one they are too narrow minded to
accept. You want power don't you boy?' The last part was said in a whisper, so low that I had to lean forward to hear it properly.
'Power is nice, I'll agree to that.'
'Oh, this power is like wiping yourself with silk, and all it takes is just a few drops of your blood to appease the dealers.'
'Blood?'
'Well, money has little interest to our dealers, but for some reason blood is what they want. I'm not one to question it when power like this is made available.'
I frowned, not really taking to the idea of cutting myself for some dealer's amusement. Though, power is nice I thought.
'What else do you offer?'
'Whatever you take, is yours to keep.'
'Will I be a free man, no one will hold claim to my person?'
'You will be expected to serve our Masters, those of the Circle, but they are kind.'
Something in that sentence made my hairs stand up, perhaps it was the clash of blood payment and the promise of 'kind Masters'. Those two just don't seem to go together.
'I'm sorry, but I'm not interested, servitude isn't what I was raised for.'
Suddenly my mind was wracked with a massive headache, it felt like someone had reached into my mind and squeezed the base of my spine.
'Then you will serve to fuel our Flame, and burn forever like the Elysian dogs.' the man hissed, his face close to my ear
Seeing his eyes settled my choice, no one with eyes that blood red could be kind, and I had a funny feeling he was the source of my headache.
Mumbling my farewells, trying not to curse the man and scream at the same time I staggered off towards the barkeep. My head felt like it wanted to burst out of my
skull and dance on my head. The barkeep looked at me funny, but was drawn away by two people in a shady corner of the tavern.
'Those pair over at that table would like to talk to you.' he said, when he came back, a small look of worry on his face. Likely because of the sudden appearance of all the strangers.
When I seated myself at the table, I felt like more than just two pairs of eyes were on me, it felt like I had hundreds watching me, not wishing to harm me, just... watching. For now at least.
'So, you met Golgonath and Elysium's representatives, and managed to walk away from both with your head on your shoulders.' grinned one man, his green cloak streaked with brown.
'Aye, though with the last my head felt like it was going to pop off.'
'Hm, a Forsaken... makes sense, abusing our Shadows to get here quickly. The Elysians had to fly here.' mused the other, her hands wrapped around a tankard of something.
The first reached into a pouch at his side, passing a leaf of some sort.
'Eat that, it'll help the headache, hopefully.'
'What is it?'
'Just some deathsbane, nothing poisonous... that's in the other pouch.' the man smirked quietly at the end of his sentence.
Eyeing the man warily, I ate the leaf. I didn't die, but with a name like deathsbane I had to wonder at its purpose.
'So, what do you think of the others?' asked the second, removing her hands from the tankard, resting her chin on them.
'They seem like they're full of themselves, that their way is the only way.'
The man who passed me the leaf, nodded sympathetically, sipping from his tankard.
'The Elysians and Golgonians are locked in eternal war, we Ysallyrans are just watching for the most part.'
'Is that all you do?'
'Oh no, but we can't tell you exactly what we do, not with that damned Forsaken near.'
'You side with the Elysians then?'
'Clued in that Golgonath and the Forsakens are the same, sharp... but no, we don't side with anyone in particular. For the most part we keep
to ourselves.'
I didn't say anything for a few minutes, pondering over what had just happened.
'You two are the first who've actually treated me like I've got a mind of my own. The Elysians treated me and my father like ignorant peasants, and the Golgonian Forsaken
seemed to want to eat me.'
They both chuckled at the Forsaken comment, but it was something in the chuckle that made me think I wasn't too far off in that.
'So I'd take it you'd be interested in a new home in Ysallyra?'
'...I'd have to talk to my parents about it.'
'Well that's easy enough to do, what're their names?'
I told them their names, and I felt a strange rushing feeling, my vision went dark for a moment and I was suddenly beside my parents at the caravans.
They stopped haggling with a travelling merchant long enough to gawp at me as if I leapt out of no where. I wasn't alone, the man who'd given me the herb was with me too... I think I'll
just call him Herb from here on out.
Herb put out his hand to my father, and in his shock, my father shook it slowly, his mind trying to comprehend what he saw.
'I've been talking to your son, he seems to have a level head on him.'
'What fetid pillow talk did you fill his head with?'
'Nothing really, just that we'd been watching him since he dealt with the Elysian that spoke with you.'
'Dealt with?'
'The man tried to convince your son to go off on... what did you call it, a pointless crusade?'
'Aye, are you dragging him off on a crusade too?'
'Nothing like that, we're primarily keeping to ourselves, we just watch the others. In fact, your people's lives aren't that different from our own. Granted its a lot wetter
out here than in Ysallyra Forest, but much of it is still the same, same pace of living, same general talks, that kind of thing.'
'I know you're trying to butter me up, trying to get my son from me. I don't see why though, he's a man in a couple days, time for him to make his own choices.'
I blinked at that, the abrupt thrust of controlling my own fate slightly boggled my mind.
Herb turned to me, a small grin on his face.
'So, what say you Pyrok? Will you go with this man and live in their Forest?'
'...Well... there's not much at home left for me to do, I spend alot of my time up in trees anyway. So it won't be like leaving home.'
'I'd say he's made up his mind, sir.' Herb said, my father bristled slightly at the title of sir, but kept quiet.
So that's it in a nutshell really, I gathered my things up, taking another blinding trip through the darkness with Herb and he left me on Merridan Isle to 'get my bearings' as he said.
I took a boat out now and again, frequently washing up on shore when the waves tossed me out. It wasn't until after I was attacked by a pirate I realised that I probably needed
some training of some kind. Herb leapt to my mind, and I asked around about potential tutors in Ysallyra, a woman named Alaina mentioned a man named Turiacus and
the rest as they say, is history.
---------
I would say more of myself, but a great deal of what I've done, and what I am is more or less common knowledge these days. No sense in being redundant.
just don't call me late to a fight.
I'm not really sure where I came from, other than the strange half memory of incessant rains, and a deck of playing cards.
Now I'm sure you're all going 'Great, another one who has no memory of his childhood, how typical.' It's not quite like that I'm getting old memory isn't what it
used to be.... anyway. I had a normal life. Free of tyranny, no one held mastery over me, save my parents who
are thankfully not dead, or at least I don't think they are...
Naturally when I reached my years of youth, I was filled with the urge to make a name of myself, partly thanks to my parents retelling
old stories of ancient heroes, and mythical lands. I too wanted to be in a story... little did I know that words truely fail what happens in a battle,
and words cannot describe the fear that takes hold of you when you face a myth made real.
I inherited my father's penchant for betting, yes, betting, not gambling there's a difference. Betting is a man's sport, gamble is what you do with your
life on a daily basis. Or at least that's what my mother had told me.
Games of dice and cards weren't exactly my strong point, but the betting of who would win a fight, or just the idle banter of what someone will
do was something I was comfortable doing.
I had a bet once with my father, the deal was to see how long we could go without mother beaning us with a broom for any shenanigans we'd
get into. We both lost, mother caught us in the hayloft with several sacks of dried fruits, at the time I was worried the lump on my head would never go
away.
My father was always full of stories from his fishing trips, sailing far over the horizon. He'd talk of lands he'd only seen, the people living on the shores staring
at the ship in wonder, and now and again they'd come across an island where people just rolled their eyes at the ship. The truely terrifying ones were
those that spoke of ancient beings in the deep, enormous arms like tree trunks flailing out of the water, and giant eyes staring through the cannon holes.
These were second hand accounts, but no less terrifying. Deep water still holds a great deal of fear for me to this day, especially when one of the monsters that
my father spoke of washed up on the shore at night, a humungous fish it looked like, dead from being out of the water too long, and there were large bite
marks out of its sides.
It was the spring just before I became of age, when my family went into the city for our annual trip in. The excitement of going to the city had worn
off, having been anywhere worth seeing several times already, and anywhere I hadn't been I was still forbidden to enter. (I still curse that in between stage of
youth and man, you're too old for things that used to entertain you, and yet too young for the new things... very frustrating)
There were crowds of people gathered in the square, white cloaked men and women with blue garments underneath spoke of a land beyond the Vast Desert,
a land that fought against the forces of darkness that threaten our existance.
My father listened with a skeptical face, and snorted at their claims of righteousness.
'Only fools go off on a crusade, it's a pointless endeavour.' he muttered, rubbing his forehead
One of the white cloaked people heard him and stepped down off his stage, approaching my father.
'Do you really think it pointless?'
'It's people like you that just need to learn to live, and let be.'
'These demons will overwhelm you in numbers you cannot imagine, would you wish your boy to become their slave?'
'My boy, and my family will not be slave to no one, least of all you, preacher.'
'Do you reject our ways?'
'I reject anyone who claims to be the only solution, there are other ways of living, not just your's, now stop dictating to these fair people and
take your sermons elsewhere.'
This confrontation had gathered quite a crowd, many people were watching my father and the white garbed man closely, expecting a fight.
My father was one prone to a bit of a temper when people started telling him what to do without seeing his point of view, this man looked to have
struck upon that same nerve.
'I'm not dictating any-'
'Yes you are! You're going off on how pure and just your civilization is, calling us 'lost' and that you have come to save us from this... Golgonath.'
'We have, we fight to protect all those who cannot defend themselves'
'And what makes you think we're helpless?'
The white man suddenly stopped, his face churning for thought.
'Exactly. Come on... lets just get to the caravans and get this trip over with. Pyrok, mind yourself.'
My father and mother stepped off into the crowd, my father watching the strangers warily. The man rubbed his face, muttering to himself, after a moment he realised I still
stood nearby, a look of mild confusion on my face.
'Your father seems to be a stubborn man, child.' said a blue robed woman, stepping lightly in her slippers.
'My people have always been 'stubborn'. Did you think we'd willingly change our ways to serve you? What would be in it for us?'
'Acceptance into the Light, for one thing. Vanquishing evil from the world is a righteous cause.'
'What makes these people so evil?'
'They make pacts with devils, deal in dark power and sacrifice innocents to fuel their evil designs.'
'And they view themselves as good I suppose?'
'In a way, I suppose they do.'
'Yes or no.'
Again the stunned silence, I was beginning to wonder with people as devout as these two, had they ever encountered someone who questioned their speeches?
Without waiting for an answer, I turned and walked to a tavern I liked to be in from time to time. I'd win alot at cards in here, and maybe even manage to evade the two strangers
trying to... well, trying to convert me.
Next to the fire, and I mean really close, was a solitary man, dressed in crimson. His face was hidden under a large hat, but I could feel eyes watching me intently.
I blinked and I was beside the fire with him, a vague memory of a silent command forced into my head.
I still couldn't see his eyes, but I could see thin lips twisted into a smile, revealing stained teeth that looked almost like fangs.
'So, you didn't fall for the Elysians' prattle, maybe there is some hope for your people yet.'
I blinked, initially not comprehending who the 'Elysians' were, but the strangers outside were obviously who he spoke of.
'Naturally their fervor blinds them to the fact their 'enemy' is near. I'm not actually their foe. I just took a different path, one they are too narrow minded to
accept. You want power don't you boy?' The last part was said in a whisper, so low that I had to lean forward to hear it properly.
'Power is nice, I'll agree to that.'
'Oh, this power is like wiping yourself with silk, and all it takes is just a few drops of your blood to appease the dealers.'
'Blood?'
'Well, money has little interest to our dealers, but for some reason blood is what they want. I'm not one to question it when power like this is made available.'
I frowned, not really taking to the idea of cutting myself for some dealer's amusement. Though, power is nice I thought.
'What else do you offer?'
'Whatever you take, is yours to keep.'
'Will I be a free man, no one will hold claim to my person?'
'You will be expected to serve our Masters, those of the Circle, but they are kind.'
Something in that sentence made my hairs stand up, perhaps it was the clash of blood payment and the promise of 'kind Masters'. Those two just don't seem to go together.
'I'm sorry, but I'm not interested, servitude isn't what I was raised for.'
Suddenly my mind was wracked with a massive headache, it felt like someone had reached into my mind and squeezed the base of my spine.
'Then you will serve to fuel our Flame, and burn forever like the Elysian dogs.' the man hissed, his face close to my ear
Seeing his eyes settled my choice, no one with eyes that blood red could be kind, and I had a funny feeling he was the source of my headache.
Mumbling my farewells, trying not to curse the man and scream at the same time I staggered off towards the barkeep. My head felt like it wanted to burst out of my
skull and dance on my head. The barkeep looked at me funny, but was drawn away by two people in a shady corner of the tavern.
'Those pair over at that table would like to talk to you.' he said, when he came back, a small look of worry on his face. Likely because of the sudden appearance of all the strangers.
When I seated myself at the table, I felt like more than just two pairs of eyes were on me, it felt like I had hundreds watching me, not wishing to harm me, just... watching. For now at least.
'So, you met Golgonath and Elysium's representatives, and managed to walk away from both with your head on your shoulders.' grinned one man, his green cloak streaked with brown.
'Aye, though with the last my head felt like it was going to pop off.'
'Hm, a Forsaken... makes sense, abusing our Shadows to get here quickly. The Elysians had to fly here.' mused the other, her hands wrapped around a tankard of something.
The first reached into a pouch at his side, passing a leaf of some sort.
'Eat that, it'll help the headache, hopefully.'
'What is it?'
'Just some deathsbane, nothing poisonous... that's in the other pouch.' the man smirked quietly at the end of his sentence.
Eyeing the man warily, I ate the leaf. I didn't die, but with a name like deathsbane I had to wonder at its purpose.
'So, what do you think of the others?' asked the second, removing her hands from the tankard, resting her chin on them.
'They seem like they're full of themselves, that their way is the only way.'
The man who passed me the leaf, nodded sympathetically, sipping from his tankard.
'The Elysians and Golgonians are locked in eternal war, we Ysallyrans are just watching for the most part.'
'Is that all you do?'
'Oh no, but we can't tell you exactly what we do, not with that damned Forsaken near.'
'You side with the Elysians then?'
'Clued in that Golgonath and the Forsakens are the same, sharp... but no, we don't side with anyone in particular. For the most part we keep
to ourselves.'
I didn't say anything for a few minutes, pondering over what had just happened.
'You two are the first who've actually treated me like I've got a mind of my own. The Elysians treated me and my father like ignorant peasants, and the Golgonian Forsaken
seemed to want to eat me.'
They both chuckled at the Forsaken comment, but it was something in the chuckle that made me think I wasn't too far off in that.
'So I'd take it you'd be interested in a new home in Ysallyra?'
'...I'd have to talk to my parents about it.'
'Well that's easy enough to do, what're their names?'
I told them their names, and I felt a strange rushing feeling, my vision went dark for a moment and I was suddenly beside my parents at the caravans.
They stopped haggling with a travelling merchant long enough to gawp at me as if I leapt out of no where. I wasn't alone, the man who'd given me the herb was with me too... I think I'll
just call him Herb from here on out.
Herb put out his hand to my father, and in his shock, my father shook it slowly, his mind trying to comprehend what he saw.
'I've been talking to your son, he seems to have a level head on him.'
'What fetid pillow talk did you fill his head with?'
'Nothing really, just that we'd been watching him since he dealt with the Elysian that spoke with you.'
'Dealt with?'
'The man tried to convince your son to go off on... what did you call it, a pointless crusade?'
'Aye, are you dragging him off on a crusade too?'
'Nothing like that, we're primarily keeping to ourselves, we just watch the others. In fact, your people's lives aren't that different from our own. Granted its a lot wetter
out here than in Ysallyra Forest, but much of it is still the same, same pace of living, same general talks, that kind of thing.'
'I know you're trying to butter me up, trying to get my son from me. I don't see why though, he's a man in a couple days, time for him to make his own choices.'
I blinked at that, the abrupt thrust of controlling my own fate slightly boggled my mind.
Herb turned to me, a small grin on his face.
'So, what say you Pyrok? Will you go with this man and live in their Forest?'
'...Well... there's not much at home left for me to do, I spend alot of my time up in trees anyway. So it won't be like leaving home.'
'I'd say he's made up his mind, sir.' Herb said, my father bristled slightly at the title of sir, but kept quiet.
So that's it in a nutshell really, I gathered my things up, taking another blinding trip through the darkness with Herb and he left me on Merridan Isle to 'get my bearings' as he said.
I took a boat out now and again, frequently washing up on shore when the waves tossed me out. It wasn't until after I was attacked by a pirate I realised that I probably needed
some training of some kind. Herb leapt to my mind, and I asked around about potential tutors in Ysallyra, a woman named Alaina mentioned a man named Turiacus and
the rest as they say, is history.
---------
I would say more of myself, but a great deal of what I've done, and what I am is more or less common knowledge these days. No sense in being redundant.
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