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 A Haunted Past (Closed) 
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Stablehand
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Joined: Sun Feb 13, 2005 8:25 am
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Post A Haunted Past (Closed)
Crouching in the night's blackness, his darkly swathed form blended into the shadows as Jeryk silently inventoried his weapons. His swords were loosed on his back, and a brace of throwing daggers was attached at his waist. A fibrous cord rested against the other hip, and a trio of throwing stars was ready at either wrist. All was as it should be and yet he waited. What am I doing here? Why am I doing this?- the thoughts nagged at him. Through a candlelit window, the assassin could see a child, a young, tawny-haired girl, sleeping peacefully in her bed. He felt for her, knowing all too well how she would soon feel. The memory came crashing down....

It was dark. A grunted oath broke the night's stillness, waking the boy. A shadow crossed his window. At first he thought nothing of it, a guard patrolling the street, no more. But ever so slowly a frightful premonition crept into his mind. He felt the close confines of his room grow sickeningly warm. Then he noticed a flickering on the window pane. The dance of flames. He realized where the heat was coming from.

Shouts rose up in the streets and there was the Clang! of steel on steel. The sounds of death and battle filled the air. Small Jeryk opened his window to stick out his head. The guards bloody corpse sprawled on the cobblestones. The boy hurled his dinner on the body. It was his first sight of ghastly death. He turned his head toward the fighting to the left just in time to see his father mercilessly sent to join the guard in the afterlife. The stave wielding merchant had had no chance angainst the sword wielding raider. He toppled out the window to streak towards his father's murderer. The flat side of the blade sent him reeling into unconsciousness, hearing his mother's screams as she burned nonetheless.

He awoke in a bed not his own some days later. A strange looking man was looking down over him. He was of average build, but his look held such an intensity that he appeared anything but ordinary.
Good that you are awake, Young One. We thought you might not make it, but no. That was quite a shot you took, but you will go on. Yes, yes, you will live to have your vengeance, the sing-song voice reached Jeryk's ears even as he drifted back off to sleep.

His indoctrination and training had started shortly after....

_________________
What is left when hope is gone?
What is there to push one on?


Jeryk the Swift


Sun Feb 13, 2005 11:21 am
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