(OOC: I'm going to edit that part of the fic later on to clarify some of the things Dia has asked about. For now, I'm just going to get the next part of this posted, which I've had a LOT of trouble thinking of - hence its delay.)
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So in the days after leaving that accursed HELLHOLE father called his retreat, things in general weren't too good for me. I immediately started heading southward for a better place than my hometown was. It took a horribly long time for me to get to Doma - perhaps a year, during which I basically had to forage for most of what I ate. How I was able to find all the food I needed at the age of six is beyond even my understanding. How I managed to avoid the dragoons in Riva was even more mind-boggling.
Finally, however, I reached Doma City. My woes were not over, however. No one was willing to take me in and care for me. Since no one would be kind enough to take care of me, I resorted to living in the alleys of Doma. Dangerous places those alleys are. My year of surviving as part of the land could never have prepared me for the streets of a city.
I'm surprised I was able to get away with almost all of the stealing I had to do. That's right, I had to steal practically anything I wanted. Most often, I ended up stealing money, which I used to buy food, and, in fact, I spent many a day in the local inn. I refused to pay for rooms, though, knowing I'd need the money to feed myself later on.
However, two of the things I stole nearly got me killed before I could retrieve them. The incident which got me these two items, which occurred at around the age of twelve, involved one person I stole from who, as I found out later, was a little-known mercenary fighter visiting Doma, looking for someone I have no clue about. When I tried to steal his money pouch, he caught me with his hand on his money, and then pulled out something I had rarely seen until that moment.
That's right, he drew out a sword on me. I quickly removed my hand from his money pouch, but it was too late by then. I knew he was going to try to cause me harm, possibly even kill me. Thinking for a way to get out of the dilemma, I remembered some of the things I read from the book I stole from the 'retreated place'. Holding my hand out and trying to get the man to stop coming after me, I realized there was a breeze building up around my hand. Before I realized that the book's rituals were not fake, a burst of wind hit the man in the chest, making him stumble and drop the sword. I then shoved him into the alley, and, in a fit of what must have been rage, proceeded, with quite a bit of difficulty, to take the man out with the blade he had dropped.
I was about to leave with his sword when I realized that I'd forgotten the money pouch. So I went back to his body, dragged it further into the alley, and looked for the money I was going to steal when I realized he was wearing some sort of leather armor. I was curious about the armor, but it had given me difficulty when I tried to fight him, so I thought maybe it would help me out on the streets. So, after taking a horrendous amount of time removing the armor (I'm surprised I wasn't discovered doing this), I found that I liked it.
But before I was about to put it on, I remembered that I had cut the mercenary through the shoulders and chest several times. Checking the wounds and their relative locations on the armor, I was astonished at how much blood I had spilled. I forgot how long I spent cleaning off the blood from the outside of the armor, just so others wouldn't know about its origins. After cleaning it off, I put the armor on myself, leaving the man's body there in the alley, and was on my way. I am fully surprised that that murder was not connected to me - maybe there were no witnesses, or no one found his body until it was no longer recognizable.
Things were rather uneventful after that, except that my thieving was a lot more successful, probably because of the sword I had stolen. I wasn't a terror-monger. I was simply a quiet and otherwise unobtrusive thief. However, the idea of stealing started to bother me for some reason. I could only guess that my curse was somehow manipulating my mind to insist I be a thief for my whole life.
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(OOC: Preview of next part: Planning to discuss Rodney's mercenary adventure in Eurastia. Why he went, what was going on with him, and how he REALLY felt about the others he was involved with while he was there.) <p>
<span style="font-size:medium;">
Current Quotes: </span> <span style="font-size:xx-small;">
"Okay, so he's only partially worthless." - Hiei (from Yu Yu Hakusho)
"Yeah. This town has mean men in it. The kind of people that make kids eat broccoli.... e.e" - Solis (Nakibe)
"Oh, you don't wanna play sports, Matt, they're fattening!" - Brody Fox (someone at my high school)
View my
online journal here. </span></p>
Edited by: Divinegon2130 at: 2/5/03 2:08:08 pm