Argnot's Tale -- 'It's my Lot in Life'

[Fezzik]

“Tell me again what happeneds.”

Ignol sighed somewhat, “If you are sure. Very well, lie down.” He tucked the little boy into the bed. “From what we know, she worked under the Red Lights in the City... yes, she was a Woman of the Night. And she was not married. As much as we appreciate the act of sexual congress here, what she did was not as wholesome as some might consider it; usually the act of the desperate, on both sides. Do not feel bad for her, she lead a life that she understood at the time. Learn from her mistakes, so that you do not make similar ones. Now, she was attacked one night, and beaten brutally. When she was brought here, it being the nearest temple that would take her, she could not talk, walk or do much for herself. Yet, but some miracle, she conceived a child. Yes, despite what some might say about you, you are still a miracle. You kept her going while she had you in her womb, and that was enough time for her to heal enough to deliver you. Yes yes, I will get to that.”

“So, in the course of 8 months, she grew strong enough, and was able to say a few things. We discovered that she was attacked by large men... men she hadn’t seen in the city. They attacked her, but only the largest used her. He attacked her after and left her for dead and made a mark on her with a knife. No one knew what it meant at the time, but your tutor has figured it out, and we know what it meant after you were born as well. Yes, calm yourself, I will get to that. They were orcs, or one was in all likelihood. Beasts that live in the forests and wilds, preying on the weak... no, no, your mother was not as weak as they thought. She did survive after all.”

“And then, you started to come. We knew then that she would not likely survive past the delivery. And you came screaming into the world. And she looked at you...”

“And she named mes! Didn’t she! She named me Argnot!”

With a nod, the priest acknowledge the name, he had taken the name for his own. Since the first time he had told the child the tale... but he hadn’t the heart to tell the child after the first time what had really happened.
After the delivery, the mother had, with her last bit of strength, insisted, and insisted again to see the child. As much as they wished to dissuade her, they could not... and upon seeing the child, with her last breath, she uttered three syllables... the last the priest never told the child. “Arggg.... not.... orc!” Her face contorted and she looked away; after which, the womans heart gave out, her last hope at redemption vanishing.

[Fezzik]

“Little one, come here, it’s time for your studies.” Father Ignol waved the young little ruffian into the temple.

“You are kind to bring him up Ignol, and kinder still to hire me to tutor the little whelp. Many would have dropped him in a forest and left him to die.” The tutor was a tall man, grey of hair, but with a light of youth in his eyes.

“After what his mother said to him just before she died, I could not help but feel pity for him. He is a smart child, despite his nature.”

The young child ran into the temples antechamber and came to a sliding halt, stopping briefly to wash his hands and face before approaching his new tutor.

“Hullo sirs.” The extra S on the end of the word was not so much a grammatical mistake on the young boys part, but a problem he seemed to have because of the large canines protruding slightly from his lower jaw out of his mouth.

“You are the young child then? The one I’m to teach hey? Let me have a look at you. Turn around... Hmm... not much meat on your bones, but Father Ignol says you are quick at figuring things out, and have managed to figure out what certain... phrases... he uses to some of the others in the temple mean hey? Don’t smile quickly young one! Save some of your knowledge for yourself, others will use it against you if you give it away to freely. Come, we need to find out just how smart you really are.”

[Fezzik]

For a few days, the tutor worked with the small boy. After a month, he managed to create a small light that lasted a few minutes. His ecstasy and joy over it was heard throughout the temple, sounding like a loud guffaw of someone much larger and older.

During those days his skill grew in understanding the basics of the weave. It would take him a few years to have a very good understanding, but it became something he was apt at, and the tutor was impressed, although he very rarely showed it. The old man knew that this was a skill that most would not understand one of the young boys heritage to understand, let alone appreciate!

“One of these days, we’ll have to work on that speech of yours little one.” The problem with the intermittent S sounds, more like a cross between S and Th though, continued, and nothing the Tutor could do Helped. Even teaching the boy Draconic, Giant or, in secret, a language of the lower planes, helped. In common tongue, he still persisted with the anti-sibilant sounds continued. He spoke perfect orcish as well, which, on afterthought, the tutor thought made sense. The tusks must have been key to the way the language was pronounced.

[Fezzik]

His other studies continued besides. He enjoyed the pleasures of the temple, and obviously grew up weaker than some of his brethren might have. There was one thing that the Ignol insisted on though, stamina. Whenever he wasn’t doing something, such as making sure the rooms were clean, people were happy with their food, the baths were scrubbed etc, he was busy running and doing other exercises to help his stamina.

“Whys do I have to do all these things when I am nots busy?”

“Because, stamina is important in life, If you cannot stand long enough to enjoy the pleasure offered by the Dancing Lady, then you cannot fully enjoy them. Also, others will appreciate the fact that you can stand up to the pleasures to their full effect as well. It will bring you respect.”

The boy, now in his early teens, nodded. “I think I understands.”

“And make sure you wash at least twice a day, and if you have it available, mild perfume oils will be good too... or something slightly musky would suit you better as well. It is time you learned how to craft these things yourself. Come, we have some Alchemy to teach you.”

[Fezzik]

“No child, like this.” Ignol showed the boy various things, mostly on the other staff of the temple. “Like this, see, feel the muscles beneath the skin, it is important that you learn this skill, it is part of the pleasures of life.” With the help of the guidance of the wise people around him, he learned the ways of easing the kinks and knots out of muscles. “We will not be teaching you some of the more advanced techniques, but these will do you well in the future I’m sure.”

Along with his other studies, he continued with these as well. Although they served no practical application other than bringing some easement of stress and the bringing of mild euphoria, it was nice to share this skill with those that needed it. Until one day something happened that was quite different.

[Fezzik]

The day it happened was like any other. The masseurs were lined up, waiting to be picked. There was never anything untoward to happen, even on request. Mostly groaning and moaning could be heard, but as they plied their trade, that was to be expected. A new noble family had moved to the area, promoted from some backwater village, to this backwater village. There were other nobles in the area, and most of them came to the temple, at least the women, since they had some time on their hands, and no one in their households was capable of such treatments they could get in the Temple of Sharess.

So they lined up, and waited. Argnot was not one of the ones who lined up of course. It was well known, just by looking at him, that he was part beast, mutt, half-breed, freak whatever label you wanted to put on him, he had it. He was told that other half breeds were sometimes shunned as well, such as Half-elves, but they were given leniency because they were created out of love, at least some of the time. They fit in, Argnot did not.

He was cleaning when the Lady came into the hall; no one had as of yet known where her favour lay. Some ladies liked hard, deep massages, other slow, tender massages with lots of oil. Other like to be yanked this way and that or have their joints cracked. So it was somewhat of a shock when it happened.

There they were, all being inspected. She looked at each of their hands, measured the length of their fingers, yet none seemed to measure up. She sighed, and then spotted the large young man in the corner sweeping with a broom. She leaned over to Ignol and whispered something... he shook his head. She became very determined and demanding, and he sighed, and called Argnot over.

“Let me see your hands!” He presented them to her, and she examined them, paying attention to his fingers, a mischievous and almost perverse smile came over her face. “I’ll take him. 15 minutes, in a room, no questions asked.” She handed Ignol a bag of coin... a large bag of coin. He looked at Argnot, then the lady. He explained that his was highly unordinary, and that a chauffeur would have to be in the room too. She reluctantly agreed, although she stated it wasn’t anyone’s business but her own really.

So they entered the room, the mute used for such occasions standing in the corner. She walked over to the bed, and disrobed. Argnot went beet red... or as red as his greenish skin would allow. “Come here... now!” She grabbed his hand. “Yes, this will do nicely.” She placed the hand where she wanted it to be. “Now... extend your finger... this one, up and in, and make a little motion likey our trying to beacon someone over. Do you understand? Good. Now.”

Within a few seconds, she had collapsed onto the bed, writing around. Argnot hadn’t ever done anything like this before. Even the girls in the village wouldn’t let him do anything like this! “Con... continue!” Her face was starting to go red, and she was releasing all her joy and excitement. By the time a few minutes had past, she reached for the other hand; her face was still red, and she could barely breathe with the continued flurry of her excited outbursts; she placed his other hand on the other side. “More!... Mo... More!!!” He continued, he had at this time a huge smile on this own face, happily wiggling his fingers. The mute in the corner just looked an odd smile and shaking his head every once in a while. And so he continued, wiggling and grinning, until her time was up. She dressed and slowly caught her breath.

When she exited the room, Argnot had a goofy smile, she looked more content than any woman spending 15 minutes with a beast like him should, and everyone just starred, wondering what the commotion was all about, and how he had managed to create such a ruckus. Before she left, she turned to Ignol. “I’ll be back to get more out of... Mr. Wigglefinger.” She smiled and gave Argnot a little wink. Ignol only smiled, until the door was shut, then he hauled the young man into his office.

“Tell me what happened... now!” Argnot only responded by approaching the man and doing what he had done to the lady. He put his fingers under the man’s armpit and wiggled. Almost right away, after looking at the Mute, for confirmation, Ignol simply shook his head and rolled his eyes. “I see.”

Word quickly spread among the noble woman of Argnot’s unique talent, and more than a few come to see what the fuss was really all about. That, turned out to be a catastrophic problem.

[Fezzik]

“I assure you good Lords, nothing has happened with the lad. He has not assaulted your wives, nor done anything of a sexual nature with them! We have a Chapero...”

“We don’t care!” The leading knight was not one to listen. “He’s a freak, and he’s touched our wives, that’s enough to have him tarred and feathered at the least!”

“He was only giving them what they wished though I don’...”

“Shut up! He must have used some sort of... or you. You did it didn’t you!? To discredit us! Just because we didn’t come to your hall to set up our feasts last year, you decided to smear our names all over town! You’re the guilty one! You have to pay! Get him boys!”

By that time, there wasn’t much Argnot could do, but remain quiet in the closet, and hope they didn’t look there for him. Ignol had little time to speak after that; they hit him, beat him, and knocked him out. Argnot grew furious, but a little voice in his head... that of his tutor, stopped him from flinging open the doors. It said simply, don’t move; wait until they leave, and exit the back doors.

So, he did just that. The knights and Lords exited, and left their guards at the front, Argnot left out the back, and saw the Tutor. “You will need this, it is your spell book. Leave, and don’t come back to this town, or this country if you can.” He have the young man a large bag of coin. “Ignol knew something like this might happen, but not when he was so unprepared for it. This is not your fault, it is the fault of Jealous men, who cannot give their wives the attention they desire or deserve.”

Argnot took the book, and he headed out of town, down toward the cliffs, where it would be harder to follow him by the river. But he stopped, in the twilight, and looked up. He could hear Ignol, pleading for his life, and the small mob of men shouting him down... then he saw his Father for the last time, plummeting toward the ground in front of him... and he hit, a large, jagged rock, and was sundered in two. Argnot ran, crying as he had never cried when he was tormented or bullied; kicked or jibed. This was the worst thing that had ever happened to him.

[Fezzik]

In the year that followed, Argnot could not make his way out of the country. He was accosted by anyone that came up to him, or he came upon. They threw stones, they spat, they chased him with pitchforks. He learned to run, and run hard, and take the hits of the stones; and how to scare people away with magic, when he could. A Half-orc, 9 feet tall, usually did it. Or he would shrink himself, and hide in bushes they would not think to look, until he could make his escape. Until he was captured.

“Look at what we have ‘ere boys! Another thug ‘orning in on our business!” Despite his protestations, they didn’t believe Argnot, but they believed he had nowhere else to go, and that he would be useful to them. And so he was forced to join them, and fight alongside them. He learned to weild weapons he had never touched in the temple, and to wear armour. He also learned to manipulate the weave in that armour, using slow, controlled movements, and eventually, to not move at all.

And the next great turning point of his life came a few months after. So far, they had not killed anyone. They had taken money, roughed people up, and sent them on their way, instilling fear, but always moving onward. The next target was a coach of rather luxurious stature. And they set upon it.

They took the young blond girl with them though. Argnot did not like the idea, but he was simply laughed at, and told he would enjoy a little fruit of his labours. When they got to the camp, they tied her up. When the first man came at her with lust Argnot had never seen, she kicked him in the groin... and then Argnot experienced a rage he had only felt once before. The man drew a sword, and was going to stab the girl; Argnot charged, cutting off the laughter and commotion of the bandits around him. When Argnot hit the man, they fell to the ground and Argnot took the sword, and stabbed the man in the neck, and then turned and thrust the sword in the man running toward them. He fell slowly, and Argnot grabbed the axe he had been wielding. 2 men left standing, and both started to run; one felt the sting of the axe in his pelvis, and fell, screaming, and not likely to live long. The other dashed into the night.

Covered in blood, Argnot picked the girl up, and hoisted her off, after collecting the large chest of coins they had acquired and saved over the last few months. When he got to a guard post, the girl’s father was there, the one they had robbed. The guards fell upon him, and took the girl, and the chest. She ran to her father, and hugged him. Argnot was on his knees, and he looked about. When they asked the girl what had happened, and if this man should be held accountable for the others actions, his heart sank. He knew there was little care for a mutt, half-breed, freak etc like him. He accepted his fate. If he survived this, he was sure he would fight with all his life to stay alive, damn those that he had tried to help, his life was more important, wasn’t it? He would fight his way out of this, and kill them all, it was the only way he would survive. And then the words that changed his life forever, that sealed his fate in life. “Let him be, he helped me, and he should be let go. Most of that money is his. He earned it father.”

How could it be? He looked up, shocked. There was kindness in the world for someone like him? Slipping into the black abyss was not what he needed to do then, but he needed to stand up, help when he could, and he had to know that even if they didn’t care, he was doing the right thing. He was good at heart. He could never be like those bandits. The world was full of joy, love, and sensuality and pleasures. Sometimes he would have to take the bad, to get to the good. And so he had his escape, and felt more at peace with himself than he had ever before.