Post by Kagetsu on Apr 23, 2004 17:12:32 GMT
Day 1,
I say day one because this is the beginning of my new life. I write this journal as a record, a record of my existence, so I may, in some way become immortal. I say that this is the beginning because I have just now learned what it is to live, to be free. I spose I was always free for the most part, but now I have been emancipated from the shackles of my prior self. ((There are several dots, as if the writer was tapping his quill.)) After reading the previous sentence I suppose I should explain to myself, and whoever decides to read this, that I was enslaved to my own life. Not in the sense that I was born a prince, and I must be a prince so that one day I shall become king. No, my tale is much less heroic than that, I was born a shoemaker, I was trained as a shoemaker by my father, I was to marry, have a child, teach my child the “art” as my father called it, then die in the hopes that he passed the “art” down to his son and so on and so forth. Now I can’t really say I was thrilled with the idea of being a shoe maker, but hey, my father was always able to feed my mother and I and keep a roof over our head so it could have been worse. I think the part that bothered me most was that my entire life was planned out for me the day I was born. Born a shoe maker, to die a shoe maker. This wasn’t for me. I can tell you the exact day that I knew I wasn’t going to be a shoe maker. The full moon, exactly one month, and one day ago. I had some free time, as I had finished working leather for my father, so I went to the inn, to listen to the bard and have a drink with some friends. Strangely enough, none of my friends were there. I took a seat at the bar and ordered my usual, some honey mead. About halfway through my bottle a bald man sat down next to me, The first thing I noticed was the large scar under his right eye, now I’m no soldier but judging from the sword at his side and the size of the scar I can assume that it defiantly didn’t come from a butter knife. The man looked over me and smiled, I introduced myself, and he told me that his name was Quinn. I asked him where he was from as I hadn’t seen him around before, he said that he was just passing through, when I asked where he was going, he replied that he didn’t really want to talk about it. I didn’t press the matter as he seemed pretty intent on the matter. Several drinks later he asked if I really wanted to know where he was going, to be polite I of course said yes, however I was really more interested that the bar maid had just dropped a trey of mugs and had to bend over to pick them up. That’s a different story for a different day, moving on. As soon as Quinn began to speak, he got my complete attention, for no other reason than his voice suddenly became quite cold, it’s very hard to explain, it’s kinda like how someone sounds right before they tell you that their father just died. I’ll never forget his first words, “I’m going to raise an army.” Now you occasionally hear someone talk about how they want to get a group of people together to hunt the wolves that have been praying on the livestock, however you don’t often hear someone talking about getting an army together unless they are taking over a kingdom. So I assumed that that’s what he was planning. I asked him what he thought was wrong with the king. He smiled and replied that he wanted to help people. He said the law only goes so far, they usually aren’t concerned with the border lands, or places where the criminals outnumber the enforcers of the law. He said he was going to change all that. I asked him why he was doing this. I don’t think I’ve ever seen the look he had in his eyes, nor do I think I will ever see it again. He replied that he had nothing left to lose. His family was traveling through the borderlands when they were assaulted by bandits. They killed everyone else and left him for dead. He said at that point he gave his life was forfeit. He wanted to make this place somewhere where people don’t have to be afraid. He wanted peace, he then made the comment that, peace is always his goal, but at times, war must be a means to achieve that goal. This is why he needed his army. At that moment all I wanted to do was ask if I could go with him to go strike down the wicked, free the oppressed, and marry the princess, but I knew better, my place was to make shoes. I was to make shoes so people could walk around without watching what they step on. I was to be the defender of the sole, the protector of the toes, that sort of thing. Not that heroic, but I knew my place. I stared into my drink for a while. Quinn then asked me what I did, I told him about making shoes with my father and he smiled and said that it was a noble craft and a shoemaker should be just as respected as a soldier or a tailor.
We both heard the bar maid scream at the same time. Apparently, in a drunken stupor, one of the patrons was trying to have his way with the bar maid. Quinn stood up so fast his stool fell over backward. He leapt over a table while drawing his sword to land right next to the drunken man. Before the man knew what was happening Quinn had his sword at the his throat. The drunk then claimed that Quinn had made his last mistake. Of course Quinn didn’t take that threat seriously, as the man was drunk and unarmed. What Quinn didn’t realize was that the town I lived in was one of those lawless towns. And the man he had just drew his sword on was the captain of the guard. Before I could say anything or try to help Quinn in some way, four bolts were sticking out of his back. The last thing I remember of Quinn is noticing his green eyes, and noticing the fire in them, and watching the flame in them extinguish. I had never felt so angry in all my life. A man tries to do what’s right and dies. What kind of justice is this? I knew I couldn’t do anything about this right then, but I was going to make Quinn’s dream a reality. Now, I am doing just that. Quinn freed me from myself. I now know what I have to do. I’ve spent the last month saving as much of my money as I could, so I could afford the supplies for travel. I’m going to raise an army, and bring peace to the people who deserve it. Every army needs a name and mine is no exception, we will be the Order of the Emerald Flame. We shall be the bane of injustice.
Day 2
Apparently being righteous doesn’t keep you warm at night, as I forgot to buy a blanket. Anyway, I’m taking the road by the sea to the next closest town. Also, I’ve decided that Timothy isn’t a name for a general, so from now on I will be Kagetsu. It was the name of a hero in a tale my mother told me when I was young. She said his name meant “bright moon.” I found it quite fitting since the day I left was a full moon. I’m done with lunch now, back to walking.
Day …
I have no idea what day it is. The last thing I remember is falling asleep on the beach. Apparently I’m on an island or country or something called Fredian. The people seem nice enough; I suppose this place is as good as any to start recruiting.
I say day one because this is the beginning of my new life. I write this journal as a record, a record of my existence, so I may, in some way become immortal. I say that this is the beginning because I have just now learned what it is to live, to be free. I spose I was always free for the most part, but now I have been emancipated from the shackles of my prior self. ((There are several dots, as if the writer was tapping his quill.)) After reading the previous sentence I suppose I should explain to myself, and whoever decides to read this, that I was enslaved to my own life. Not in the sense that I was born a prince, and I must be a prince so that one day I shall become king. No, my tale is much less heroic than that, I was born a shoemaker, I was trained as a shoemaker by my father, I was to marry, have a child, teach my child the “art” as my father called it, then die in the hopes that he passed the “art” down to his son and so on and so forth. Now I can’t really say I was thrilled with the idea of being a shoe maker, but hey, my father was always able to feed my mother and I and keep a roof over our head so it could have been worse. I think the part that bothered me most was that my entire life was planned out for me the day I was born. Born a shoe maker, to die a shoe maker. This wasn’t for me. I can tell you the exact day that I knew I wasn’t going to be a shoe maker. The full moon, exactly one month, and one day ago. I had some free time, as I had finished working leather for my father, so I went to the inn, to listen to the bard and have a drink with some friends. Strangely enough, none of my friends were there. I took a seat at the bar and ordered my usual, some honey mead. About halfway through my bottle a bald man sat down next to me, The first thing I noticed was the large scar under his right eye, now I’m no soldier but judging from the sword at his side and the size of the scar I can assume that it defiantly didn’t come from a butter knife. The man looked over me and smiled, I introduced myself, and he told me that his name was Quinn. I asked him where he was from as I hadn’t seen him around before, he said that he was just passing through, when I asked where he was going, he replied that he didn’t really want to talk about it. I didn’t press the matter as he seemed pretty intent on the matter. Several drinks later he asked if I really wanted to know where he was going, to be polite I of course said yes, however I was really more interested that the bar maid had just dropped a trey of mugs and had to bend over to pick them up. That’s a different story for a different day, moving on. As soon as Quinn began to speak, he got my complete attention, for no other reason than his voice suddenly became quite cold, it’s very hard to explain, it’s kinda like how someone sounds right before they tell you that their father just died. I’ll never forget his first words, “I’m going to raise an army.” Now you occasionally hear someone talk about how they want to get a group of people together to hunt the wolves that have been praying on the livestock, however you don’t often hear someone talking about getting an army together unless they are taking over a kingdom. So I assumed that that’s what he was planning. I asked him what he thought was wrong with the king. He smiled and replied that he wanted to help people. He said the law only goes so far, they usually aren’t concerned with the border lands, or places where the criminals outnumber the enforcers of the law. He said he was going to change all that. I asked him why he was doing this. I don’t think I’ve ever seen the look he had in his eyes, nor do I think I will ever see it again. He replied that he had nothing left to lose. His family was traveling through the borderlands when they were assaulted by bandits. They killed everyone else and left him for dead. He said at that point he gave his life was forfeit. He wanted to make this place somewhere where people don’t have to be afraid. He wanted peace, he then made the comment that, peace is always his goal, but at times, war must be a means to achieve that goal. This is why he needed his army. At that moment all I wanted to do was ask if I could go with him to go strike down the wicked, free the oppressed, and marry the princess, but I knew better, my place was to make shoes. I was to make shoes so people could walk around without watching what they step on. I was to be the defender of the sole, the protector of the toes, that sort of thing. Not that heroic, but I knew my place. I stared into my drink for a while. Quinn then asked me what I did, I told him about making shoes with my father and he smiled and said that it was a noble craft and a shoemaker should be just as respected as a soldier or a tailor.
We both heard the bar maid scream at the same time. Apparently, in a drunken stupor, one of the patrons was trying to have his way with the bar maid. Quinn stood up so fast his stool fell over backward. He leapt over a table while drawing his sword to land right next to the drunken man. Before the man knew what was happening Quinn had his sword at the his throat. The drunk then claimed that Quinn had made his last mistake. Of course Quinn didn’t take that threat seriously, as the man was drunk and unarmed. What Quinn didn’t realize was that the town I lived in was one of those lawless towns. And the man he had just drew his sword on was the captain of the guard. Before I could say anything or try to help Quinn in some way, four bolts were sticking out of his back. The last thing I remember of Quinn is noticing his green eyes, and noticing the fire in them, and watching the flame in them extinguish. I had never felt so angry in all my life. A man tries to do what’s right and dies. What kind of justice is this? I knew I couldn’t do anything about this right then, but I was going to make Quinn’s dream a reality. Now, I am doing just that. Quinn freed me from myself. I now know what I have to do. I’ve spent the last month saving as much of my money as I could, so I could afford the supplies for travel. I’m going to raise an army, and bring peace to the people who deserve it. Every army needs a name and mine is no exception, we will be the Order of the Emerald Flame. We shall be the bane of injustice.
Day 2
Apparently being righteous doesn’t keep you warm at night, as I forgot to buy a blanket. Anyway, I’m taking the road by the sea to the next closest town. Also, I’ve decided that Timothy isn’t a name for a general, so from now on I will be Kagetsu. It was the name of a hero in a tale my mother told me when I was young. She said his name meant “bright moon.” I found it quite fitting since the day I left was a full moon. I’m done with lunch now, back to walking.
Day …
I have no idea what day it is. The last thing I remember is falling asleep on the beach. Apparently I’m on an island or country or something called Fredian. The people seem nice enough; I suppose this place is as good as any to start recruiting.
