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~an overheard conversation at the campfire at the trading post~
“ . . . so you were a pirate?” asked Tori with a surprised gasp.
“Well,” Val’Doran replied, “let me explain. To make sense or it, so to speak, you need to go back to my childhood. I was born in Amn, you’ve probably heard of it. Southern end of the Sword Coast?” Tori nodded as she listened intently to the ‘old’ man.
“My mother died giving birth to me, and my father was a moderately successful merchant. He was often away for weeks, even months, and when he was home he was often busy, and well, not the most likeable person. I was mainly raised by the hired help, I was taught my numbers and to read, write, even a little elvish. As I grew up, and started to understand bits and pieces of how the world worked, I discovered that many of the dealings my father was doing, were not considered . . . ethical. It was not until I asked what the word ‘slave’ meant that I realised what sort of man my father was.” Val took a sip of his mead and continued.
“When I was about 8, I think, my father returned from a long stint away, almost a year, with one of his associates, a foul, vile and odorous man, Utolo Giss, and a dark skinned woman, heavily with child, and unable to speak a word I could understand. I later found that she most likely came from the jungles of Chult. Anyway, the way my father treated her was . . . well very poor. He sent her to stay in the servant quarters and had very little to do with her. Utolo stayed with us for the next two weeks, continually taking my fathers hospitality for granted, yet I sensed that my father did not care in the slightest. During this time though I curiously watched this dark skinned woman from a distant land, I tried to communicate with her, but found it difficult, she seemed to be frightened of everyone and everything. For all her fear though, she could not stop nature, she gave birth to a son, dark skinned like her, but with what could only be my eyes, she died that day, but not before she spoke, what I could only imagine to be the name of her son, Aronel.”
“Aronel? That’s a nice name, sounds foreign,” commented Tori as Val took another sip of his warm mead.
“Yes, I liked that name to. It was not till late that night, when my father was informed by one of the servants that she had died that my father even bothered to come and see, what I could only assume was his son, my brother. I was shocked when he dismissed both the body and his son with just a wave of his hand, turned his back and went back to his conversation with Utolo. The next day though the true nature of my father was made clear to me. Before the sun had risen I was awoken by being dragged out of bed, hurriedly dressed, and Aronel was shoved, half wrapped, into my arms. Through my bleary eyes I saw a Utolo give my father a bag of gold, which he took, then turned to go back to his bedroom. Utolo then grabbed my wrist and pulled me to the waiting carriage. It wasn’t until I was inside that I realised what was happening, and when I started to struggle, Utolo struck me across the face with what was the first of many disciplinary actions from him, it was then that I realised that my father had just sold me, and my newborn brother, into slavery.”
Tori’s jaw just dropped.
Val smiled at her and ruffled her hair, “Hey it wasn’t all that bad, at least we had a carriage and didn’t have to walk to port”, he laughed. “After that much of those early years are a blur”, he stated with a distant, troubled look in his often jovial eyes, “Anyway”, he said as he collected himself, “we ended up in Calimshan, in the ‘Palace’ of the self styled Pasha Utolo Giess. I took care of Aroel the best I could, Utolo had a small harem and they helped where they could aswell. We, Aronel and I, would often travel with Utolo on his trading sloop to many and varied ports. On one of these ‘trips’ the Pasha himself had an ‘altercation’ with the business end of a dagger and then tried to swim to shore. I don’t think he made it though. Hmmm . . .” Val smiled at the young bard as she refilled his mead cup.
“Well what where we to do? I was young, twenty at that time, and I had just ‘inherited’ a ship of the high, and profitable, Calishite seas! Well it doesn’t take much imagination to work out what happened then. For six years we sailed up and down the coast, took from the rich and became rich ourselves. Until we took on one of the Grand Pasha’s own merchant traders. They gave us a fight we weren’t expecting, we got away due to a storm hitting us, but we had taken a fair bit of damage, and I was unsure if we would even make landfall. It also seems that at that time one of the crew took a disliking to me, introduced be to the pointy end of his dagger and shoved me overboard. Well . . . I thought I was done for! I don’t know how long I was in the water but it seemed to be an eternity before I was fished out by, well, a fishing boat. I woke up days later, my wound healed and in the shack of an old fisherman and his wife.”
“These were the ones that you told me about earlier, the ones who first told you about Tyr?” asked Tori.
“Yes, so as you can see, I have turned my life around, I have forgiven those who have wronged me in the past, even my father, because I know and trust that Tyr will see that justice will be done for all. But yes, I was a pirate, and that is something you need to remember Tori, everyone has a past, we all make mistakes, but it is a test of strength, conviction and character how we let those mistakes influence our lives today. I know I have wronged people in the past and I constantly pray that they see justice for my actions, I can only ask for forgiveness and offer to do justice for others, as Tyr forbids his followers to seek justice for themselves as then justice becomes vengeance. We are instruments of Tyr, to provide justice, not for ourselves but for others. Now young lady, sing another of your ballads, this time make it one about pirates.”
Tori pulled out her lute, “Alright then Val, pirates it is . . .”
“ . . . so you were a pirate?” asked Tori with a surprised gasp.
“Well,” Val’Doran replied, “let me explain. To make sense or it, so to speak, you need to go back to my childhood. I was born in Amn, you’ve probably heard of it. Southern end of the Sword Coast?” Tori nodded as she listened intently to the ‘old’ man.
“My mother died giving birth to me, and my father was a moderately successful merchant. He was often away for weeks, even months, and when he was home he was often busy, and well, not the most likeable person. I was mainly raised by the hired help, I was taught my numbers and to read, write, even a little elvish. As I grew up, and started to understand bits and pieces of how the world worked, I discovered that many of the dealings my father was doing, were not considered . . . ethical. It was not until I asked what the word ‘slave’ meant that I realised what sort of man my father was.” Val took a sip of his mead and continued.
“When I was about 8, I think, my father returned from a long stint away, almost a year, with one of his associates, a foul, vile and odorous man, Utolo Giss, and a dark skinned woman, heavily with child, and unable to speak a word I could understand. I later found that she most likely came from the jungles of Chult. Anyway, the way my father treated her was . . . well very poor. He sent her to stay in the servant quarters and had very little to do with her. Utolo stayed with us for the next two weeks, continually taking my fathers hospitality for granted, yet I sensed that my father did not care in the slightest. During this time though I curiously watched this dark skinned woman from a distant land, I tried to communicate with her, but found it difficult, she seemed to be frightened of everyone and everything. For all her fear though, she could not stop nature, she gave birth to a son, dark skinned like her, but with what could only be my eyes, she died that day, but not before she spoke, what I could only imagine to be the name of her son, Aronel.”
“Aronel? That’s a nice name, sounds foreign,” commented Tori as Val took another sip of his warm mead.
“Yes, I liked that name to. It was not till late that night, when my father was informed by one of the servants that she had died that my father even bothered to come and see, what I could only assume was his son, my brother. I was shocked when he dismissed both the body and his son with just a wave of his hand, turned his back and went back to his conversation with Utolo. The next day though the true nature of my father was made clear to me. Before the sun had risen I was awoken by being dragged out of bed, hurriedly dressed, and Aronel was shoved, half wrapped, into my arms. Through my bleary eyes I saw a Utolo give my father a bag of gold, which he took, then turned to go back to his bedroom. Utolo then grabbed my wrist and pulled me to the waiting carriage. It wasn’t until I was inside that I realised what was happening, and when I started to struggle, Utolo struck me across the face with what was the first of many disciplinary actions from him, it was then that I realised that my father had just sold me, and my newborn brother, into slavery.”
Tori’s jaw just dropped.
Val smiled at her and ruffled her hair, “Hey it wasn’t all that bad, at least we had a carriage and didn’t have to walk to port”, he laughed. “After that much of those early years are a blur”, he stated with a distant, troubled look in his often jovial eyes, “Anyway”, he said as he collected himself, “we ended up in Calimshan, in the ‘Palace’ of the self styled Pasha Utolo Giess. I took care of Aroel the best I could, Utolo had a small harem and they helped where they could aswell. We, Aronel and I, would often travel with Utolo on his trading sloop to many and varied ports. On one of these ‘trips’ the Pasha himself had an ‘altercation’ with the business end of a dagger and then tried to swim to shore. I don’t think he made it though. Hmmm . . .” Val smiled at the young bard as she refilled his mead cup.
“Well what where we to do? I was young, twenty at that time, and I had just ‘inherited’ a ship of the high, and profitable, Calishite seas! Well it doesn’t take much imagination to work out what happened then. For six years we sailed up and down the coast, took from the rich and became rich ourselves. Until we took on one of the Grand Pasha’s own merchant traders. They gave us a fight we weren’t expecting, we got away due to a storm hitting us, but we had taken a fair bit of damage, and I was unsure if we would even make landfall. It also seems that at that time one of the crew took a disliking to me, introduced be to the pointy end of his dagger and shoved me overboard. Well . . . I thought I was done for! I don’t know how long I was in the water but it seemed to be an eternity before I was fished out by, well, a fishing boat. I woke up days later, my wound healed and in the shack of an old fisherman and his wife.”
“These were the ones that you told me about earlier, the ones who first told you about Tyr?” asked Tori.
“Yes, so as you can see, I have turned my life around, I have forgiven those who have wronged me in the past, even my father, because I know and trust that Tyr will see that justice will be done for all. But yes, I was a pirate, and that is something you need to remember Tori, everyone has a past, we all make mistakes, but it is a test of strength, conviction and character how we let those mistakes influence our lives today. I know I have wronged people in the past and I constantly pray that they see justice for my actions, I can only ask for forgiveness and offer to do justice for others, as Tyr forbids his followers to seek justice for themselves as then justice becomes vengeance. We are instruments of Tyr, to provide justice, not for ourselves but for others. Now young lady, sing another of your ballads, this time make it one about pirates.”
Tori pulled out her lute, “Alright then Val, pirates it is . . .”