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27 seasons ago in one of Luskans dark alleys, a little girl wandered.Her hair was untended and dirty, her skin was full of mud.
In the crowd she spotted a man a bit different from all the others, he had clean clothes and held his head high. She made her small feet’s move faster so she could catch up with him.
“A copper Sir”, she said with a weak voice. The man looked down on her big blue eyes; he snorted at her and hit her with the flat of his hand so she falls with her face in the mud.
She lay there for a few seconds before she got up. She was used to this treatment so she did not cry. She immediately started to look for another person that may have a coin to spare.
The streets were filled with people this day; it was a trial in the marketplace. People stacked up to see the man that was supposed to have tried assassinate one of the Lords. The little girl knew how the trial would end. They always ended the same. She heard the magistrate shouting about the dagger the “assassin” had been hiding, about the former theft the man had done.
She knew that all the mad had ever done was trying to steal food to his children, but the Magistrate had these “trials” two, three times a month to please the crowds.
“CONFESS”, she heard the Magistrate shout. She heard the man trying to say something, but his voice changed to a scream as the whip hit him in the face. The crowd shouted and screamed “guilty!” the little girl felt sick, so she headed against home. The crowd went silent behind her. SLAM, she heard, followed by a scream and the crowd chairing. She knew the man would in the end confess to anything, and then be sentenced to death. Sometimes the executioner would chop the head off and throw it to the crowd.
The door to her father’s pub. Her hands shaked when she opened the door, she really did not want to enter, but she was so hungry. “How much did ye get?” She heard the second she entered. “N..Nothing”, she replyed with a weak voice. The big man came against her and shouted to her: “Then no food for ye this day!” Then he slapped her. “Go wash the outhouse!” She went hungry to bed that night, like most nights.
Some years later, she had lived for 14 summers. Her father had noticed has customers had taken a good eye for the girl. When they rented a room in his inn, he gave them the offer of having her share their bed for a few coppers. She no longer cared if she lived or died. This old man she was to share the bed with had been there before. He had hurt her pretty bad, hit her with his fist and almost drowned her while he pleased himself with her. This night the old wizard was very drunk, he throw her sown in the bed and ripped her clothes off. She smelled his bad breath as he started to kiss her, it was of bad ale and puke, and she could not breath. In her panic for air she bit him in the lips. The man screamed: “Is it like that you want it!” He took a dagger from the table by the bed and took a grip at her throat. His angry voice turned into a hysterical laugh, she felt a panic she never had before. He made a cut on her chest, slowly down towards her legs. His grip on her throat was so hard she could not utter a scream. In her panic she felt something; she grabbed the thing and swung it toward the man. Suddenly he released his grip on her; she swung again against his throat.
Silence. The old wizard was dead on the bed. She ran out in the door, her father saw her coming down; he grabbed by the hair and shouted to her. As he dragged her back towards the room she was sure he would beat her to death. As they entered the room he froze. “What have ye done”, he shouted. She saw her fist then darkness.
She woke in the same room, the wizard was gone, and her father was gone. She slowly stood up and headed towards the door, but just before she opened it her eyes fell upon a book. She had never seen something like that before, she quickly grabbed it and ran under the stairs where she used to sleep.
The next day her father waked her with a kick. “Do that again and ye will face the Magistrate!” The next years she used all the short times her father did not make her earn him coppers to study this book. She studied the symbols and learned it was called Draconic, and the symbols were called spells.
4 seasons later she came home. She saw her father standing by the bar. In front of him was her book. His eyes glowed of anger. “What is this?” before she could answer he slapped her. Her head hit the fireplace, he stormed against her. “A book? What the hell are ye thinking ye are?!” He took the book and threw it in the fire, then grabbed her. “Watch it burn”. No! It was the only thing she had that makes her feel alive. She had this morning studied the symbols on a page and remembered them well. She made a small gesture with her left hand and said the last 3 symbols out loud; “Gesena dai Gasant”. She let her thumbs touch each other and spreaded her fingers. The strangest feeling flowed through her, fire struck out from her fingers right in her father’s face. She tried to stop it, tried to remove the thumbs from each other, but all that happened was that the fire coming from her spreaded through the room. After some seconds it stopped, in her panic she grabbed the book from the fireplace and ran. It was chaos in the inn, everyone tried to get out. She was small and knew the place, she quickly got to a window and jumped through it. She ran as fast her feet’s could carry her, the one time she dared to turn her head back she saw fires over the rooftops. She managed to get over the walls covering the city. She had never been outside the city before, and she saw green things. Was that what they called forest? She ran towards it in the dark and entered it. Many hours later she fell to the ground. Cold, thirsty and hungry. She fell asleep holding her spellbook.
In the crowd she spotted a man a bit different from all the others, he had clean clothes and held his head high. She made her small feet’s move faster so she could catch up with him.
“A copper Sir”, she said with a weak voice. The man looked down on her big blue eyes; he snorted at her and hit her with the flat of his hand so she falls with her face in the mud.
She lay there for a few seconds before she got up. She was used to this treatment so she did not cry. She immediately started to look for another person that may have a coin to spare.
The streets were filled with people this day; it was a trial in the marketplace. People stacked up to see the man that was supposed to have tried assassinate one of the Lords. The little girl knew how the trial would end. They always ended the same. She heard the magistrate shouting about the dagger the “assassin” had been hiding, about the former theft the man had done.
She knew that all the mad had ever done was trying to steal food to his children, but the Magistrate had these “trials” two, three times a month to please the crowds.
“CONFESS”, she heard the Magistrate shout. She heard the man trying to say something, but his voice changed to a scream as the whip hit him in the face. The crowd shouted and screamed “guilty!” the little girl felt sick, so she headed against home. The crowd went silent behind her. SLAM, she heard, followed by a scream and the crowd chairing. She knew the man would in the end confess to anything, and then be sentenced to death. Sometimes the executioner would chop the head off and throw it to the crowd.
The door to her father’s pub. Her hands shaked when she opened the door, she really did not want to enter, but she was so hungry. “How much did ye get?” She heard the second she entered. “N..Nothing”, she replyed with a weak voice. The big man came against her and shouted to her: “Then no food for ye this day!” Then he slapped her. “Go wash the outhouse!” She went hungry to bed that night, like most nights.
Some years later, she had lived for 14 summers. Her father had noticed has customers had taken a good eye for the girl. When they rented a room in his inn, he gave them the offer of having her share their bed for a few coppers. She no longer cared if she lived or died. This old man she was to share the bed with had been there before. He had hurt her pretty bad, hit her with his fist and almost drowned her while he pleased himself with her. This night the old wizard was very drunk, he throw her sown in the bed and ripped her clothes off. She smelled his bad breath as he started to kiss her, it was of bad ale and puke, and she could not breath. In her panic for air she bit him in the lips. The man screamed: “Is it like that you want it!” He took a dagger from the table by the bed and took a grip at her throat. His angry voice turned into a hysterical laugh, she felt a panic she never had before. He made a cut on her chest, slowly down towards her legs. His grip on her throat was so hard she could not utter a scream. In her panic she felt something; she grabbed the thing and swung it toward the man. Suddenly he released his grip on her; she swung again against his throat.
Silence. The old wizard was dead on the bed. She ran out in the door, her father saw her coming down; he grabbed by the hair and shouted to her. As he dragged her back towards the room she was sure he would beat her to death. As they entered the room he froze. “What have ye done”, he shouted. She saw her fist then darkness.
She woke in the same room, the wizard was gone, and her father was gone. She slowly stood up and headed towards the door, but just before she opened it her eyes fell upon a book. She had never seen something like that before, she quickly grabbed it and ran under the stairs where she used to sleep.
The next day her father waked her with a kick. “Do that again and ye will face the Magistrate!” The next years she used all the short times her father did not make her earn him coppers to study this book. She studied the symbols and learned it was called Draconic, and the symbols were called spells.
4 seasons later she came home. She saw her father standing by the bar. In front of him was her book. His eyes glowed of anger. “What is this?” before she could answer he slapped her. Her head hit the fireplace, he stormed against her. “A book? What the hell are ye thinking ye are?!” He took the book and threw it in the fire, then grabbed her. “Watch it burn”. No! It was the only thing she had that makes her feel alive. She had this morning studied the symbols on a page and remembered them well. She made a small gesture with her left hand and said the last 3 symbols out loud; “Gesena dai Gasant”. She let her thumbs touch each other and spreaded her fingers. The strangest feeling flowed through her, fire struck out from her fingers right in her father’s face. She tried to stop it, tried to remove the thumbs from each other, but all that happened was that the fire coming from her spreaded through the room. After some seconds it stopped, in her panic she grabbed the book from the fireplace and ran. It was chaos in the inn, everyone tried to get out. She was small and knew the place, she quickly got to a window and jumped through it. She ran as fast her feet’s could carry her, the one time she dared to turn her head back she saw fires over the rooftops. She managed to get over the walls covering the city. She had never been outside the city before, and she saw green things. Was that what they called forest? She ran towards it in the dark and entered it. Many hours later she fell to the ground. Cold, thirsty and hungry. She fell asleep holding her spellbook.
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