Ipsi/KarisOakBorn

This page is by ipsi. This is a page for the Solar Exalted Karis Oak-Born, who I am currently playing.

Name: Karis Oak-Born / Karis, Golden Son
Caste: Zenith
Nature: Caregiver
Anima: Oak Tree
Concept: Mad Hermit

Attributes:

Strength: 3; Dexterity: 3; Stamina: 5
Charisma: 4; Manipulation: 4; Appearance: 1
Perception: 2; Intelligence: 3; Wits: 2

Abilities:

Athletics: 3
Awareness: 2
Endurance: 5
Linguistics: 1 (Forest Tongue, Riverspeak)
Medicine: 5
Melee: 4
Occult: 2
Performance: 2
Presence: 2
Resistance: 4
Ride: 1
Survival: 3

Backgrounds

Allies: 2
Contacts: 1
Mentor: 2
Weapons: 2

Virtues
Compassion: 3; Temperence: 3; Conviction: 3; Valor: 3
Virtue Flaw: Compassionate Martyrdom (Compassion)

Willpower: 6
Heatlh: -0x5, -1x6, -3, Inc
Essence: 2
Essence Pool: 12/32

Charms:

• Endruance
  • Ox-Body Technique x 2

• Medicine
  • Ailemnt Rectifying Method
    
  • Bodily Regeneration Prana
    
  • Body-Mending Meditation
    
  • Flawless Diagnosis Technique
    
  • Grevious Injury Recovery Method
    
  • Touch of Blissful Release
    
  • Wound-Mending Care Technique

• Melee
  • Bulwark Stance
    
  • Dipping Swallow Defense
    
  • Golden Essence Block
    
  • Heavenly Guardian Defense

• Performance
  • Masterful Performance Exercise
    
  • Respect Commanding Attitude

• Resistance
  • Durability of Oak Meditation
    
  • Iron Skin Concentration

Equipment: Ragged, Threadbare clothes, simple homespun pants, Excellent Spear and Excellent Knife, covered in strange symbols, backpack

Combat:
Base Initiative: 5
Soak: 5B/2L/0A
Dodge: 1
Attacks:
Excellent Spear: Speed: 7; Accuracy: 9; Damage: 6L; Defense: 8
Excellent Knife: Speed: 8; Accuracy: 8; Damage: 5L; Defense: 6

Merits:
Pain Resistance (3 pt)

Flaws:

Description and Backstory

Description:
Karis is not a tall man, indeed, he stands perhaps a little shorter than average. His clothes are dirty and torn, with little care taken in them. He wears a simple spun shirt, and leggings of a similar kind. They may once have been green, but are now stained beyond telling.

He carries at his side a spear, of excellent make, and wickedly sharp. The wood of the haft is a strange, springy kind that bends far further than wood should. The point is made of metal, seemingly beaten by hand into shape, and covered with lots of strange blue markings. They cover the entire piece of metal, but do not seem to be of a language know to man, if they are words at all.

He also has a knife, tucked away in his belt, and of similar make to the spear, though it does not have any wood at all, rather, it is simply a block of metal, again with the strange designs covering it. Karis has never said where he got them, and no one has pressed him yet.

Karis looks old. Older than you would think, to hear him speak, and to see him leap around as he does. He doesn't seem to feel old, but he certainly looks it, with streaks of grey running through his beard, age spots lining his hands, and skin covered in wrinkles. He seems like a kindly old man, though different... Something about him isn't quite right. Maybe it's the fact that one side of his beard is longer than the other. Maybe it's the wild hair. In any case, Karis has little about him that is attractive in a physical sense.

---

Backstory:
(Warning - this is kinda long)

My name was, originally, Karis Oak-Born, so called because I was born under the roof of a house built from oak, to a family who loved to craft items from oak. I now have taken the sobriquet Karis, Golden Son. And this is my story, set down in words so that those who come after me may gain some understanding of what it is to be as we are.

My story starts many years ago, in a small nameless village, far to the east of the Blessed Isle. I was born to humble parents, wood-workers who wanted a son to continue on with the work they have done. And a son they got, though I never had an interest in such things. I much preferred to play outside the village, and go exploring on my own. I had few friends, for whatever reason. I never really cared. My imagination was companion enough.

Many children have an imaginary friend. I had many, when I was young. And one even talked back. He said many things to me, and taught me the ways of the healer, and of the animals of the forest.

I never said anything of this to anyone, convinced that they would cast me out for being mad. And so I grew up with this little voice in the back of my head, who told me many things. But it only ever spoke to me when I was alone, and never when others were about.

As I grew, I showed little interest in my families work. I had brothers and sisters aplenty, though, and I became neglected. It mattered little to me. I spent much time in the forest, and, thanks to the voice in my head, I always picked the right herb, or made the right poultice, and tended to the animals of the forest, or to the people of the village, and gained some reputation as someone who knew how to deal with many problems they commonly encountered.

Perhaps what was strangest was that I could look at someone who was ill, and always give out the correct remedy for whatever was ailing them. Reflecting back on it, I think the voice in my head had done more for than just tell me things...

It seems idyllic, in many ways. And for a while it was. The village paid heed to the Immaculate Order, as did all in the region. It was foolish not to. And they did not like me. I never preached for the old gods, nor did I decry the Order, as some did. But I embodied many things they disliked. I practiced old ways. I gave the villagers immediate results, and asked nothing back, save the occasional favour when I was truly in need.

Now, I think that perhaps some in the village suspected something was wrong. I had unnatural skill with the mending of flesh and bone, and some grew jealous. I do not fault them, for the hearts of men are full of bestial urges that few can truly overcome.

That went on for some years. And then the plague hit. It was horrific, making boils appear all over the skin, and the skin turned dark, peeling back like the layers of bark on a tree. Death was the only result, though it took several days of pain for it to eventuate. I could do nothing save to ease the pain of those who caught it. There was no cure, and little respite for those who caught it.

And then the Immaculate Order came, and pronounced the sickness as a punishment from the Five Elemental Dragons, for allowing me to stay in the village, and practice my deviant ways. The only way to stop the plague was to cast me out of the village, to send me into exile. And then it would stop.

I left the very night they delivered that pronouncement. The villagers were fearful of what further punishment the Five Elemental Dragons would visit upon them were I to remain, and wished for the plague to stop. Even my own family looked at me with fear and hate in their eyes. So I slipped quietly from the village after dusk, rather than face the villagers during the night. I do not know if that stopped the plague. I have not been back in all the years since.

And the voice stopped speaking to me. I did not notice right away, but eventually I came to realise that it had not spoken to me in a long time. I was not concerned.

After leaving the village, I travelled further east, into the wood. It was hard, at first. I had need of food, and water. I had left with little more than the clothes on my back, and a few possessions that I valued. I was able to survive off berries and roots and herbs for a time, and I found water on occasion, often enough that I never feared for my survival. I travelled ever eastward, veering to the south whenever an obstacle reared its head.

I felt much bitterness towards my village, and much hate to the Immaculate order at the time. Bitterness at the thought that all the good I had done for them vanished from their minds in an instant when they needed a scapegoat. And hate, at the Immaculate Order, for using my friends and family to get rid of me. To this day, I still bear that hate to the Immaculate Order, for their blind persecution of all others different.

I avoided human contact for a long while after that, believing that the story would only repeat itself wherever I stopped. But I grew lonely. This existence was not for me. I needed a purpose in my life, something greater than mere survival. I was not sure what it was, then.

Perhaps it was fate that drove to this. Perhaps it was the Unconquered Sun, having some small influence even then. No matter. That was the turning point, I believe, for I was never the same after that.

I began making my way to villages. Rather than trying to avoid them, I actively sought them out, and offered my skills as a healer, or myself as an impartial voice of reason. Some villagers took offence to this, and I fled from many. But in many more, I left feeling I had made some small change to the way people lived their lives, and that I had changed things for the better.

I would teach my skills to those who asked, and provide counsel when needed, and telling stories of my travels. On occasion I would exaggerate, to make them more interesting, and after a while, I became confident enough to make up my own tales of glory and valour, and grew quite accomplished in their telling.

The visits were sporadic, and I would often go for a week or two before finding another village hidden away amongst the trees.

I often hunted for food, spearing small animals, or catching trout in the rivers that run through the great woods of the east. Otherwise, I took sustenance where I could find it, be it berries off bushes, or apples from trees.

I am rambling now, I suppose. But this story does have a point. I spent so much time in the wilderness that I began to forget that there was a greater world outside. All I could think of was surviving to the next day, and I paid little heed to stories of a troubled world outside of the forests, told by villagers and traders I happened across on my travels.

My skills as a healer and a woodsman grew until I found myself welcomed by people I had never seen before, but who had heard of me. I had a reputation of sorts, it seemed. Not something I was used to, to be sure. But it mattered not in the end.

This part of my story comes to a close, soon. One day, as I sat meditating under a tree, thinking back to my family, and the Immaculate Order, I felt a presence enter the area. I looked up, and there was no one there. But I could feel something had entered this glade I was in. I stood, and walked around, looking for what had intruded on my meditations. I found nothing, and slowly sat down again, feeling perplexed.

And then I heard it in my head, “Karis Oak-born! You have been long travelling without direction! You have veered from that path that I put you on, long ago. I have ever been with you, and ever have you been chosen. But it is now time to put aside grief and hate and fear, and return to the world. Your path is in front of you once again, Karis. Take up the mantle of the Exalted, and bring the word of the Unconquered Sun back to the world. Ever will I be with you, Karis, Golden Son.”

And with that, the voice died away, leaving only an echo in my head. And it slowly dawned on me. The flight from the village. My skill with medicines. The plague. The Order turning my friends against me. All that was a result of Exaltation when I was young. And this voice in head was responsible for it.

I could not bear it. How could he have done that to me? How? And could I ever trust this voice, knowing now what it was responsible for? I was still bitter about being forced to leave my village, and my life being upset like that, and I was not sure I would do as the voice demanded.

Anathema. My whole life. It seemed so long ago that I had been cast out, and I knew they were right to do it. Anathema. That was what I was. Hated and feared by all. Fit only for death. It did not seem fair, that I should be subjected to this.

But that was how it was. I sat there for a while, and meditated on what I had just learned.

Eventually, I calmed down enough to realise that while the voice had been responsible for a lot of the bad in my life, it had also been responsible for good, too. And for now, I would do as it asked. It seemed strange, but I felt it approved of all I had done in the time since it had left me, and that it expected me to continue on helping others.

Not long after this epiphany had occurred me, I ran across a tribe of barbarians who lived deep within the woods. Up until now I had avoided contact with them. They were not likely to let me live, and I doubted I could communicate with them. And that was indeed the case: They jumped me, and though I tried to fight, it was to no avail. I was brought down and dragged off to the camp, presumably as a sacrifice.

I woke to find myself in a wooden cage, tightly bound. I could scarcely breathe, let alone move, or think of escape. I passed two days like that, before I was dragged from there, and thrown to the ground in front of a giant of a man, covered in strange tattoos, the like of which I had never seen before. He carried with him a spear and a knife, that I could see, both of excellent craftsmanship, and bearing the same strange markings that covered his own body.

He spoke to the barbarians in their own tongue. I could not understand what was being said, but they seemed fearful of him, and treated him with reverence. Eventually, one of them stepped forwards, knife in hand, and I was sure I was going to meet the Unconquered Sun in person. It seem so soon, but I heard again the voice in my head, and it said “Do not worry. You are in safe hands now. Trust this man, for he means you no harm.”

A strange thing, certainly. But the barbarian stepped forwards, and cut my bonds from me, and gestured at me to get up. I rose, and looked towards the man who had obviously argued for my release. I stepped hesitantly towards him, not sure of what to do next.

He nodded at me, and said a single word to me:

“Come.“

Again, I was unsure, and again I heard the voice in my head

“Go with him, Karis”

I heaved a great sigh, and made to follow him. He then turned and walked from the village of the barbarians, and out into the great forest.

He introduced himself as Bracken, and said that I should stay with him for some time. Some time ended up being a year and day. But I learned much from him during that time. He showed me how to hunt, how to build a shelter from the elements, and many things beside. I also learnt how to harness the energy that now flowed through my veins, and turn it into something useful. He seemed to know what I was, though he never explained much to me about it, and he never said anything about himself, who he was, and where he came from, or why he was here.

I did ask, but he always turned the topic to something else, usually giving me some menial task, like chopping firewood, or hunting for a specific variety of flower. I could draw nothing from him.

He was not one of the chosen of the Unconquered Sun, of that I am sure. Something did not feel right. And besides, I feel that he would have said something. I should have liked to have known that I was not alone, that there was another like me. But he said nothing. I fear what he will ask of me, should we ever meet again.

Indeed, Bracken said so little of himself, I wondered if he were truly real, and not something conjured out of thin air by the voice in my head. But I have come to think he was real, though not entirely human. Indeed, I do not think one could live out here long, and remain entirely human. This place is strange, and I feel as though I do not belong.

Occasionally, he would leave for a time. He never said where he was going, or for how long. But while he was gone things went a little.. strange.. Strange sounds I heard in the night, and the men of the forest looked at me with evil in their eyes. The whole seemed to be turning against me, but Bracken seemed a strange influence on whatever lurked out there. When he came back, things would instantly quiet and return to normal. But should he leave, again they would start up.

After a year and a day had passed, Bracken said he had taught me all he could, and that it would be best if I were to head back out of the forest now. It was not a place that many could handle for any length of time, and besides, I now had other duties to attend to.

What those duties were, he never said. But he gave me his spear, and his knife, which I shall treasure forever, and they have been great aids for me over the years since I left him. But I never saw without those items, and they now have a special place in my heart, though why he gave them to me, I do not know.

After bidding me goodbye, he escorted me some distance before turning back.

All of a sudden, I felt so lonely, and directionless. Aye, Bracken had said to head back to civilisation, but he had given only the vaguest of directions, and I thought I was lost. But then the voice returned to my head

“To the west Karis, to the west”

And I knew, suddenly, beyond all doubt, where I should go. And I turned to a direction which looked no different to any other, and I began walking with a purpose I had been lacking my entire life.

I walked for almost a day after leaving Bracken before I ran into trouble. I was in a wooded area. Not particularly strange, considering this had been the case for many years, but this was somehow different. I kept on seeing what seemed to be very similar trees and briar patches. After going for hours, and seeing no change, I marked one of the trees with a sign I was sure I would recognise. And sure enough, not long after, I passed by it again.

And then something appeared before, as if waiting for me to figure this out. From the briar patches, a figure of roughly human shape was being formed. I stared at it, having seen nothing of this nature before. And before I could pick up my jaw, it stepped forwards.

“I am the Briar Queen, and you have intruded on my demesne, fool. Once here, none may leave, without my will. And I have not yet willed anyone to leave” “None have been let leave, aye?” said I, “But I think you will let me leave. Indeed, you cannot keep me here” “Oh, and why is that? Nay, you are no different from any other, and shall not leave here” “I am Karis, Golden Son, and I speak with the authority of the Unconquered Sun! He has returned to this world, and I am his prophet!” The words sounded strange to me, even as I uttered them. And it was then I realised I was ready to follow the Unconquered Sun. I still did not trust him, and I had not forgiven him, but I would follow him, and perhaps one day make my peace with him. She frowned, and looked at me for a while. “Yes, I see. No, I will let you go. But I will demand a favour of you. I will come seeking a favour from you one day, though that day may be many mortal lifetimes in coming.”

And with that, I woke up in a clearing, with no clear idea of where I was. I remembered the Briar Queen, and the encounter I had with her, and it seemed as though it were a dream. And again, in my head I heard a voice.

“To the west, Karis, to the west.”

And so I went, wondering what to make of this Briar Queen.

And that is how I ended up wandering out of the woods, many months later. How much time passed, I could not say exactly, though it was long indeed. I had not realised how much time I had spent travelling into the forest, nor how far that travel had taken me.

It felt very different, wandering a flat plain, where the trees were few and far between. For much of my had been spent under the canopy of the great trees of the vast forest of the east. Great Oaks and Firs, standing taller than you could imagine.

I am a part of the forest, and I always will be. My heart yearns for it, but the Unconquered Sun places demands one me that I dare not refuse. So I will leave the forest, carrying only a memory in my heart for now.

And what of Bracken? Odd to think of him now. It seems like a dream, a strange one, but not unpleasant. I doubt I will ever see him again. As for the Briar Queen... I hope I do not see her again. Indeed, I doubt I will, unless I should enter her demesne again. And I have no intent of ever doing that.

But that is all behind me. I now travel with other figures. Kima Bloodsong: a mercenary from the south; Suhail: also from the south, though I’m not sure what he is; Ascending Horizon, and his sister Skye, both from the Blessed Isle, though I am unsure if they left because Ascending Horizon was chosen, or for some other reason.

---

Various Short Stories
All of these are about Karis, and generally try to expand his backstory in the form of short stories.

Karis - Leaving Bracken

My name is Karis Oak-Born, and I am here to tell you more of my story. Many years I spent with Bracken, out in the woods, farther east than I had ever gone before, and farther than I ever wish to travel again. But I gained much from my time with Bracken, though the only physical items I have which remind me of him are my weapons.

But this is the tale of my departure from Bracken. A long time ago, indeed, but I remember well.

It is the breaking of dawn, and the woods are alive with the sound of living beings. Crickets chirp, birds sing, and the leaves rustle with the sound of creatures going about their day. The light of the sun creeps down through the branches of huge trees, more akin to pillars of stone than living things, and something stirs at the bottom of a tree. It is a man, and one that is known. Karis Oak-Born stands almost six foot, and yet looks little different to how he did several years ago. His face is still lined with cracks and minor scars, but yet the lines of age are no more pronounced than they were five years ago, or ten. He carries with him a crudely made short spear, with a head of flint, and a dagger that looks like it was chipped from rock.

Karis sighed, and opened his eyes. Today felt different. He knew it did. Why, he wasn’t sure. But it was going to be different. He stood with a grace that didn’t really seem right, and turned to a direction that seemed no different than any other.

“This way, or that way?” he murmured to himself. “That way” he said, after a moments hesitation, “Bracken said that I would pass four trees arranged in such a way as to be perfect indicators of direction. I should then head away from the tree whose trunk I can walk around in exactly three paces. Which would be that one,” indicating a tree nearby.

“Seems to the way of it,” he muttered, and began walking away from the tree.

Early morning had turned to midday before Karis showed any signs of slowing down. The sun now beat down from the zenith of its arc overhead, but Karis seemed completely unconcerned. Instead, he slowed his pace, and looked around, seeming slightly unsure of something.

Suddenly, he called out to the empty wood, “Bracken?” “Bracken? Where are you? By all the Suns glory, I’ll have your head if you’ve sent me off on some wild goose chase!”

A deep voice answered from the woods near Karis, “Will you truly, Karis? I’ve not sent on some merry little chase. Actually, you’ve followed my instructions better than I’d hoped. I was not expecting you back until the morrow.”

“Ah. Good to see you again Bracken. As you can see, I managed to find my way back, unharmed, from whatever wild place you left me in. The Unconquered Sun does not leave his children totally helpless.”

Bracken laughed, “Yes, I can see that. But it’s time for a change. I’m sorry Karis, but it is time for you to leave. I’ve taught you a lot, but you must now go back into Civilisation. The Unconquered Sun did not intend for his prophets to remain in the wild for all eternity.”

“But Bracken,” said Karis, a look of fear washing over his face, “surely you cannot mean that! I’ve not yet learnt everything you have to teach me! And how do I know what I’m meant to do? No, this doesn’t sound right, Bracken. I do not know enough yet!”

“No, Karis. You know enough. You must now leave. Besides, this is not a place you should for long. It would not be a good idea to stay here for much longer. And I think you will know what to do. As you said, the Unconquered Sun does not leave this children totally helpless.”

“As you say, then.” Karis’s head sinks in resignation. “I thank you, then, for everything you have shown me, and I hope, perhaps, that we will meet again on a later day.”

“We will meet again, Karis. But before you go, take these, my weapons. You will have need of tools to defend yourself, and what you currently use is completely inadequate. Take them. I will make do.”

“But..” Bracken gave Karis a stern look, “Very well. I will carry them with me always. If you ever need them, or if you ever have need of me, I will do my best.”

“Good. Now, come. We have a lot of ground to cover before nightfall. Do not look so surprised Karis. I will escort you until you are out of the most dangerous area, and then I will return here.”

Karis quickly collects what little he owns into a small pack, and both he and Bracken are soon walking off into the wood, in a direction that seems the same as all the others.

But the events after that are another story. This is but one chapter in my life. And so I end my tale for now.

---

Karis - Leaving the Village

My name is Karis Oak-Born. And I am here to tell you more of my story.

As has been told before, I grew up in the lands far to the east, deep within the Great Forest the surrounds the Elemental Pole of Wood. A good and prosperous life, but it did not last long enough. While I do not know what they said, I can guess what they might have said. Even 5000 years does not remove the sting of that first betrayal. I believe that night would have gone like this:

The sky is red, a deep, bloody red, perhaps similar to the finest of wines. The trees underneath the sky cast black shadows onto the forest floor hundreds of feet below, and all good living things now crawl under the leafy floor, or into burrows or into nests balanced far above the ground, while creatures of the darkness begin their nightly prowl.

Somewhere deep within this continent of trees lies a small village. It has no name, for few strangers come here, and fewer still head further. But it is full of people, who go about their lives. They are born, they grow, they die. There are many places such as this scattered across the Great Forest of the East. But this one in particular is special, as at this very moment a child is being born, one who could change the world. His name is Karis Oak-Born, and this is where he was born, and spent all his younger years.

It is now 30 years in the future, and it is the same small village, though the people have changed. Some have died, some have been born, but the nature of the village has not changed.

And again, there is Karis Oak-Born. He is no longer a small babe, but a man, standing nearly six feet tall. His body is well muscled and well toned, though the years have not been kind to his appearance. His face is weathered and worn, with lines of age just starting to appear. It is tanned and cracked from decades spent outside, and his eyes are a cool grey, but gentle compassion springs from them wherever he looks.

He kneels down to look at a small set of plants, whose petals are a perfect white and still covered in the lightest sheen of the morning dew. Karis pulls out a knife from his belt, and gently cuts a few of the stalks from the plant. “Yes. This is what I want,” he mutters, returning the knife to his belt, and carefully storing them in a pouch also attached to his belt.

Meanwhile, dark words have been coming from the Immaculate Order. A plague has hit the village, and hit it hard. Many have died, despite the best efforts of the healers, among whom Karis is one of the best. And the Immaculate Order is whispering the Karis is at fault. That he consorts with dark spirits and does not pay the proper respect the Dragons. And as punishment the Village has been visited with a curse, which will not leave until Karis does.

“This is a sign from the Dragons. We must send him away!” cries a voice from among many.

The villagers are gathered around in the tavern, all talking and whispering. A very small few are crying. None look happy, but they have the grim certainty of a man who must perform an unpleasant task.

“You will not send my son away!” bellows a voice from the front of the crowd, and they part to reveal a large, beefy man with tears running down his red cheeks. “He has grown up here, with all of you, and has done his best to help all of you, and you’d send him away!?” “Please understand, we do what we must. If we do not, the Dragons will visit a worse fate on us. I do not deny all that he has done. And I weep for this, but he must go, for the sake of the village.” This voice is calm and moderate, but determined.

“Yes. Please, listen to reason. I’m sure if he were here, he would agree with us, that he must leave.”

“Aye, I’ve lost my wife and my two lovely daughters already to this horrible plague. If him leaving is all that it takes to let us live, then we will drive him from our homes”

“Listen to yourselves speak! My son has done nothing wrong! You fools are too stupid too see that this plague is not the fault of my son, but simply bad luck!”

“Calm down old man... Everyone knows that the Elemental Dragons are fickle and unknowable to mortal men. If your son has done something to offend them, even without knowing, then he must go, if that’s what it takes to satisfy them”

“And look at him, not touched by the disease, but he spends all his time near them. It’s not right that he should still be healthy” This voice is different, and rather unpleasant, reminiscent of a cockroach.

“Aye. How is it that my family is dead and he remains untouched? My wife and daughters suffered for days! And he walks around merry as can be? Something not right about that lad.”

“Now look here, my son is just a healthy lad. And there are many of us here who remain healthy. I cannot think that you, of all people, did not spend time with your wife and daughters as they suffered? It has nothing to do with my son consulting evil spirits or the like!”

“Are you so sure? I see him out at night, sneaking around when honest men should be in bed. Going out into the forest. Don’t see him come back. All sorts of evil things out there. Who knows? Maybe something’s taken his mind?” Again, the wheedling, cockroach voice.

At this, all the men begin muttering amongst themselves, looking decidedly more worried.

“Aye. He could be coming in and slitting our throats will we sleep. Mayhap he even set this curse upon us himself! And that’s why it does not afflict him.”

“Aye, that makes some sort of sense. But I reckon he’s been learning dark magics from them spirits out in the wood. Bad place to be alone in, I reckon. And he’s there alone far too much. Must’ve done something to him.”

“A sorcerer? Are you mad!? My son is no such thing! You’ve all gone mad! I’ll not stand here and listen to any more of this nonsense. I hope you’ll come to your senses before he gets back!” And with that, he gets up and storms off, dragging a sobbing middle-aged women behind him.

“Poor man. He just won’t admit his son’s gone bad. But there’s naught we can do for him. He’ll eventually realise that this is the right thing to do. We’ll confront him when he gets back, and tell him we will not have any more of him in this village, and that he is to leave immediately.”

“Maybe the dragons would be happier if he was dead. After all, he has been consorting with Dark Spirits, and practicing sorcery against the good people of this village. Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live” Again, the wheedling, cockroach voice.

“Kill him? Well.. No. We couldn’t. He’s a man like the rest of us. Right?”

“Maybe he used to be. But not anymore. He’s been corrupted. And in his next life he’ll have a chance to redeem himself, and one day cleanse his soul of the evil he has allowed to creep into it.”

“Well, that’s true..”

“Then he will not outlive the day. It’s for his own good, and ours.”

And that was it. I’d heard all I needed to. I’d snuck up to the door, and had listened to the last little bit. At that, I took off, and never looked back. I have not been back since. I couldn’t say what happened to my father. I hope they left him alone. But I doubt it. It still brings tears to my eyes. But what could I have done?

Comments

Well? Anyone got comments? - ipsi

Hi. Great character. Excellent background. I love seeing a charatcer that is not totally combat oriented. dameon16

Thanks. :D I should check my pages more often. -ipsi