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Author Topic: Brash / Mutt / Cook  (Read 205 times)
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Brash
Pressured Parent
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Posts: 6

Human, Centoraurian / Helcrani / Erpheronian


« on: December 15, 2007, 02:42:23 AM »

Basics
     Name - Brash
          (No one who knows Brash remembers what his mother called him. She died when he was only six years old and no one pays attention to the name of the bastard child of a simple serving woman. During his childhood he was often called 'Boy' and some of the cooking staff called him 'Brash' due to his tendency to rush headlong into things and not think things through all the way. After a while the name stuck and he likes it better than 'boy'.)

     Gender - Male

     Age - 25

     Race - Human

     Tribe - Mutt
          Mother: Helcrani / Centoraurian
          Father: Erpheronian

     Occupation - Cook

     Title - Pressured Parent

     Overview - Brash grew up in the kitchens of the palace in Voldar. His father abandoned him before he was born and his mother was killed when he was six. The kitchen became his home until he was fourteen and he had to make his way on his own. Since he left the palace he had a very successful life and found good work where he went. After the birth of his son Cale he was kicked out of a small inn outside of Voldar and returned to the city and a merchant family he had worked for years before. They were on the verge of spoiling both child and man when they left.

Apperance
     Height - 1 ped, 2 fores, 2 palmspans, 1 nailsbreadth, and a grain

     Weight - 1 pygge, 7 hebs, 1 hafeb, 3 ods, and 7 muts

     Hair Color - Dark Brown

     Eye Color - Green

     Physical Apperance
          'Lanky'. That’s the first word that comes to mind when someone first looks at Brash. This tall and skinny young man appears to have never fully grown out of his painfully awkward stage. His body caught up with him years ago and that painfully goofy growing phase had passed mostly, but he is still awkward on his feet at times. The life of a chief doesn't actually require him to be very active but he had built up some muscle traveling around, the rigors of living outdoors taking a toll on him. His skin has slowly developed a light tan and his once weak form is not without strength now. When living off the land he has to try and trap his own meat sometimes, so his sleek form is muscled like that of a hunter.

          His face is youthful, but is showing the trials of his job and raising a three year old boy. Emerald green eyes sparkle like jewels at times when he is in a good mood or watching Cale. Brash's eyes are slightly sunken and ringed by dark circles from little sleep. This adds to his rumpled appearance. Dark brown hair hangs around his head, the length varying at times depending on how much free time he has. It mainly is cropped above his jaw and below his ears when he has the chance to keep it up. Most of the time the dark locks of wavy hair hang in front of his emerald eyes and aggravate him, but he refuses to wear it any shorter. Aside from his hair and sparkling eyes he has a dazzling smile. White teeth gleaming most of the time since Brash is rarely without a grin on his face. He also always has the smell of different spices hanging over him.

     Clothing
          Warm Weather Outfit - Brash's warm weather outfit consists of an open neck forest green shirt with short sleeves that stop just above the elbow. The neck of the shirt settles just below his collar bone. A darker green fabric is used for the trim along the neck line, sleeve line, and shirt bottom. With that he has a pair of loose black leggings that tuck into ankle high sturdy leather boots. Around his waist is a worn leather belt that holds some of his things and a leather sheath.

          Cold Weather Outfit - His cold weather outfit is nearly the same. He wears a long sleeve green shirt with the sleeves able to be buttoned around his wrists. The neck goes down to the middle of his chest with buttons up to the clasp at his neck. Most of the time he only buttons two or three out of the five buttons on the shirt since he can't stand the tightness around his neck. With this he wears padded black leggings that button around his ankle. Two buttons at the bottom of his leggings clasp the padded fabric around his boot tops to keep the cold out. The same leather belt and boots from his warm weather outfit are present here as well. Over that he wears a long green cloak with a deep hood.

          Work Outfit - When he is working he usually wears a long sleeve white shirt that laces up in the front and on the outside of both sleeves. This allows him to roll up his sleeves at times and keep them up if needed and allows easy movement. When tightly laced up it fits perfectly to his skinny arms and torso. With that he usually wears a pair of leather leggings and he has a stained white apron with two small pockets and three loops for utensils, around his waist. The same boots are once more added to this outfit. 

          Hunting Outfit - When he goes out hunting for food he usually wears a worn and patched, soft, long-sleeved, leather shirt with his leather leggings with the same boots and belt. This allows for him to move around easily and be protected if he stumbles upon game that could be dangerous or thorn bushes.

         * Note - He has two of each outfit except for his hunting shirt.

Personality
     Most people that meet Brash will agree that his is a rather likeable young man and very courteous. As a little boy he had to learn to behave at dinner parties and around nobility. He has always been fun to be around and that is still the case even thought most of the time he is ready to sleep. Even though his little boy keeps him from sleeping he feels like a little kid again. Brash is always up for fun, and playing with Cale is almost always on the top of his list of things to do. He is really easy going and is pretty much everyone's friends. There are few people who he can't find a way to get along with. Some times others think him rude because he will nod off in the middle of a conversation. He can't help it; he tends to get little sleep most nights, some more than others depending on the situation. On the rare occasions when he gets a full night sleep it doesn't help much. Another thing that tends to aggravate people if when he has to run off after Cale in the middle of a conversation. The little boy is always looking for trouble or playing with Jak.     

Strengths
          Culinary Arts - Brash has been trained in the art of cooking. He knows how to cook many dishes and this is the way he earns coin. Along with this knowledge of how to cook he had picked up knowledge about edible plants. This helps him since he can provide his own food when out on the road.

          Hunting - While working on one inn he spent time with the innkeeper's son and picked up a bit of skill in hunting and tracking. He spends a lot of time on the road so this allows him to catch food and feed himself and his companions. His skill is limited and he could not catch anything without the hound he found.

          Hound - Jakodi, part Jhomcholan Diver and part wolf. This large hound is about the size of a large wolf, and helps Brash catch food and take care of Cale. With both of their hunting skills they are able to take down game most days.

          Survival - Brash has adapted to living out on the road. He can gather edible plants and take down game to feed himself, Cale, and the animals. Sometimes they don't find a place to stay and must survive on the road for weeks at a time. His survival ability also helps him in large cities.

         Bow - Brash has some skill with a bow. Basicly he knows how to hold it, pull back, and aim. He has a better chance of hitting a fast moving target with his eyes closed. On a good day he can take down a slow moving animal and most days it is easy for him to take down one standing still. Most of the time he counts on Jak to take down game for them, but occasinally he can sneak up on a grazing deer or something else.

Weaknesses
         Cale - Cale is his three year old son that he has to take on the road with him. Brash has learned that it's a lot of work taking care of a three year old boy. When he's not hungry or tired or needing something, Cale is running around finding some sort of trouble to get into. When he is anywhere he has to keep an eye on Cale so the little boy doesn't get into trouble or danger. It affects his sleep, free time, and ability to do his work well at times.

         Little Sleep - His job as a cook always has him up at early hours and so does his job as a father. He finds that he gets little sleep lately and that affects his ability to be aware of his surroundings. Some weeks are worse than others and he finds that he can barely keep his eyes open at times, let alone chase after a three year old or watch his back.

          Parenting - Brash never really had parents and finds himself raising a three year old boy. He's not exactly sure how to take care of a child and is learning as he goes. Guilt plagues him and he worries that he isn't a good enough father. He had help with the kid first few years, but now he is on his own and trying to keep up with Cale.

          Knee Problems - When climbing up a tree to get some fruit for them Brash fell and injured his right knee. He was barely able to move for two weeks and had to lean on the pack horse to walk for a month after that. Now it has healed mostly, but sometimes he will begin to limp when he over uses his knee and during the winter it pains him.


History
     I was brought into the world on the night a harsh storm swept across the land. My mother, Karren, suffered through fourteen hours of labor. Lying on a sweat soaked bed in a small, chilly room in the servant's quarters of the palace. Some of Karren's closest friends within the castle stood in the hall outside the little room, waiting, and fetching things for the midwife when she emerged from the room for moments at a time. I came into the world as the first bell tolled on the 5th day of Frozen Rivers.

     My mother was barely past her eighteenth birthday when I was born and was a serving girl at the castle in Voldar. The father I never knew was a lowly Lord who had traveled to Voldar for a visit. While staying in the castle he had taken a liking to my mother and seduced her. For a week he called her to his chambers at nights, promising to take her with him back to his holdings. Young and naive as she was she believed the lies and fell in love with the handsome nobleman. Karren was crushed when the man left without warning, returning to his holdings and lovely young wife that waited for him. She wouldn't even admit her closest friends into her chamber to consul her. Weeks passed and a grey cloud hung over her each day, and a sickness had begun its reign over her. She spent day's constantly vomiting the contents of her stomach, and her belly slowly began to swell. Nine months of agony followed for my mother.

     Not much really happened during the first five years of my life. It was basically the day to day life of a little boy growing up, but a bit crueler. Every where I went servants would point and laugh. I was often called a bastard though then I didn't know what they were saying or what they meant. My mother was tormented as well, the servants, workers, and soldiers of the castle knowing about the Lord that had she had been tricked by. They thought it incredibly funny that she had fallen for the man's lies. Many of the male servants and men-at-arms had their way with her during those years, overpowering the young woman with superior strength. I found myself alone in the small chambers I shared with my mother most nights but was never really aware of the fact that I was alone or what was happening outside the stone walls.

     Karren was found dead behind the stables one morning in a few months before my sixth birthday. She was simply disposed of, no questions asked. The castle steward kept the information of her death from the Thane though rumors flew and he eventually found out but didn’t pay any mind to the death of a serving woman. A little boy paid mind to the murder of his mother, thought no one seemed to care. I wept within the stone walls of the small room for a couple months, some of my mother's old friends bringing me food and tidying up the room, but nothing more. I was completely alone now and well aware of it. My mother would never again return to the room in the middle of the night and wrap her arms around me as I dozed fitfully. At the age of six I had to begin to fend for myself in the wide open world.

     One of Karren's closest friends, Jacline, watched after me a bit, but she had her own work to deal with. She worked in the kitchens and convinced the cook to take me on the staff, working for food and clothing. The large woman that ran the kitchen agreed and gave me small tasks, working along side the other kitchen boys. The others were a few years older than me and practiced hands at working in the kitchen already. Most laughed as they watched me struggle through the crowd of people in the beginning and did all they could to make things worse on the six year old little boy that had invaded their territory. One youth in the group stepped up and helped me out, guiding me through my tasks and teaching me how to stay out of other people's way.

     Bryant was his name and he was ten, the oldest kitchen boy at that time by a month. The others scorned him, but he didn't really mind. I spent the days tailing Bryant, following his instructions and learning my way around the kitchen. At nights I returned to the room that had been my mothers, while the other kitchen boys slept on pallets in a small room to the side of the kitchen. The other servants in the same wing didn't seem to mind me keeping my mother's room as long as I didn't disturb them, so I always returned to the reassuring familiarity of the four cold, stone walls each night.

     I learned fairly swiftly, knowing where I was wanted and where I wasn't. After a few months I could easily slip through the mass of people better than any other older boys, my smaller size giving me a huge advantage. While working together Bryant and I would always get our tasks done early and found time to sneak away from the chaos of the kitchen. We'd snag a few pastries and stuff them in our mouths as we made our escape. Those afternoons off were the best, spent rough housing in the yard, exploring the keep, walking the battlements, talking to the guards, and more. In my six year old mind it was perfect and I thought it would never change, but I was wrong. I was about six and a half when my days of escaping ended.
         
     Bryant and I were wrestling in a secluded part of the courtyard one day. The guards stationed on the wall about chuckling at the two young boys' mock-fighting below them and cheering us on. I had just gained some leverage and had my short arm wrapped around my friend's neck and was hanging on his back. The guards let out a small groan as Bryant let himself fall on his back, using me to catch his fall. With an audible grunt and loud whoosh my lungs empty. I struggled to sit, gasping for a breath, while Bryant took advantage. He pulled my arms back behind my back and brought them upward to bring slight pain to my shoulders. I had almost caught my breath by then, and chanced a look up on the wall where the guards sat with their legs hanging off the side, watching us. A small grimace crossed one of their faces while the other gloated with a smug 'I told you so look'. I was stuck and I knew it, and so did the guards and Bryant. He was bigger, stronger, and older. So I quit struggling and worked on catching my breath first. Suddenly the pressure on my arms was released and I looked up at the guards, whose faces had gone white and were struggling to get up. I turned slowly to find the head cook holding Bryant by the back of his shirt, the boy's feet hanging above the ground a bit.

     "Enough," she said, dropping Bryant. Then she turned her gaze on the guards. "Don't yall have anythin' betta ta do than encourage youths to fight?"

     With that the guards jumped up back to their duty, moving as far away from that section of the wall as fast as possible, casting looks of pity over their shoulders for the boys. Once the guards had cleared that area the head cook turned her attention on us. I looked back at her, the large woman I had seen everyday for half a year and didn’t really know. To me at six years old she was scary and mean and was to be avoided. Her dark brown gaze was enough to scare even the oldest of the kitchen boys. She was a small woman, but very large. At six years old I thought she could swallow me whole. I looked up into her dark brown gaze and couldn’t help but tremble a bit, waiting for what would happen next.

     "It seems you two have too much time on ya hands," she said sternly. Then she turned to the older boy, "Bryant you have pastry duty from now on, go make yaself useful."

     With that Bryant scuttled to his feet and raced off, looking back at me for a moment, pity clear on his face as he hurried away. I curled up as small as I could make myself as the head chief, Martha, turned her gaze on me. I waited for the punishment that I was almost sure would be coming. Then, washing dishes for the rest of my life seemed like the worst thing imaginable, and then she spoke.

     "Boy, you're working with me now," she said gruffly, "Follow me."

     She started off toward the kitchen, expecting me to follow. I tailed after her like a lost puppy, cautiously following as swiftly as I dared. I didn't know then that this was a worse punishment than dishes for the rest of my life. I was expected to be up before the rest of the staff, clean, and ready to go before the head chief reached the kitchen. I tailed her, listening to everything she told me and learning a lot. She seemed to think of me as her apprentice. I later learned that she had heard of my speed and ability to finish tasks swiftly at a young age and she had chosen to train me. If I would have known then how the next few years of my life would turn out I might have been a little slower.

     For three years I was her shadow. I followed her around the kitchen, learning about spices and where they could be found and made. I also learned about all sorts of edible plants and how to cook them. Learned about all the different species of animal that could be eaten, which were common and rare, which tasted good with witch spices and seasonings, and more. My head was stuffed with knowledge about foods, animals, and plants all day long every day. Some times she would give me a break and send me out to the market or fields with an older worker to get items for the kitchen, in a way I was learning even more. I unknowingly learned where plants could be found and how much certain things should cost.

     After three years she pawned me off on the other staff members. She put me into the hands of another chief in the kitchen for a couple of months to learn more about the trade. After those months I would move to another chief and learn more. My life seemed to be consumed with learning. I saw Bryant a couple of times, but he was always busy with the pastry chiefs. My time was no longer my own, and the nights that I actually got some rest a strange loneliness ate at me. I suffered through it and survived to reach ten years of age.

     A few months after I had turned ten, Martha approached me as I moved around the kitchen, working on a new dish. She snatched the bowl that I was carrying and dropped it down on the table near by. The bowl swirled around a few times before finally setting down right on the edge of the table. I watched the it fall as a younger kitchen boy swept by it. Martha tossed a pile of folded new clothes into my hands as she turned on the boy and berated him for his clumsiness and ordered him to clean it up. She turned her attention on me and I fumbled under her gaze, trying to keep the pile of clothing from tumbling to the ground that was now littered with the contents of my bowl.

     "You're filling in for one of the boys at the dinner tonight. One of them got sick and I was asked to find a suitable replacement. You're not much, but you will do," Martha said. "Now go get dressed, boy."

     I hurried off without a word, running toward my room, the outfit getting rumpled as I fumbled to open the door with one hand. My room was a mess, my few clothes scattered over the floor, packages of spices covering the top of a small chest in the corner, and my thick blankets were bundled in an odd pile atop the straw mattress. I sighed and dumped the clothes on my bed, reaching up behind my head to pull of the stained white shirt I was wearing. I quickly pulled on the clothing that had been shoved into my arms and stood in front of the small mirror in my room. The clean white shirt clung to my small body and the black leggings constricted my movements. I tried to smooth the wrinkles in the white shirt and was tugging at the collar of it when there was a knock at the door.

     I opened the door to find the same little boy from the kitchens standing in front of me, holding a pair of shiny black boots and a clean white apron. He shoved these into my hands and scuttled off silently. I thought he looked really funny to my ten year old mind. I figured the boy was about six, about the same age I was when Bryant stood up for me. I grinned, thinking about Bryant and knew I should go speak to him soon. I thought for a while someone banged on my door and the angry voice of the head chief called through the door. I hurriedly pulled on the too tight, shiny boots and ran out of the room, tying the apron around my waist as I went, the head chief at my back. She walked behind me, smoothing my hair and drowning me in my responsibilities for the evening.

     I stumbled into the hall and found my place beside the other serving boys, standing silently as the guest walked in. Moments later I found myself serving wine to the people at one end of the table before being rushed off into the kitchen to grab platters of food. Next thing I knew I was following a line of boys out to the table and setting down a platter of food before turning back to the kitchen for more. The night passed by and as far as I can remember I didn't make one mistake, but I remember very little. I remember stumbling into bed early in the morning into the cloths I had been wearing and waking only an hour or so later to a kitchen boy banging on my door.

     My life went on as usual for a while, spending each day in the kitchen, and finding myself playing serving boy at some noble's dinner once a month or so. I saw little of my friend in those days, running through life so swiftly I barely remember the passing of days or years. Before I knew it my fourteenth birthday was only a month or so away. It seemed like only a few days had passed but it had been four years. My life seemed to be too much of the same each day, and I was beginning to grow bored of it. Well, I actually didn't think that there was much more to like than cooking until I turned fourteen.

     It was another of the noble's fancy dinners and once more I was assigned to the hall. I hurried off to my rooms to get ready, digging through my chest of clothing to find something that fit. I had grown a lot and found that clothing that actually fit me was a blessing. I settled for a pair of black leggings that were a bit too snug and the bottoms barely covered the top of my ankle high boots. I pulled on a somewhat wrinkled white shirt. The sleeves were a bit short and I had to roll them up just above my elbows so I didn't look stupid in the too short shirt. With a sigh I tied my clean apron around my waist and smoothed my hair as I made my way to the hall.

     It started out like any other dinner. Pouring wine, serving food, and waiting on guests. I was refilling a goblet of wine for a young man who was slightly older than me. He was speaking to a young woman next to him, the wine already getting to his head. He made wide gestures that caused me to miss and spill a bit of wine on the white table cloth. I hastily pulled a clean cloth from the pockets in my apron and mopped up the small spill. The young man continued speaking, as if it was nothing. My ears picked up little bits of conversation as I cleaned up the mess. The man spoke in clear disdain of the layout of food. I held down the little bit of anger that rose up into me, holding my tongue as he talked about other places he had eaten better.

     I lifted the jug of wine once more and tried to pour again. I managed to get his cup filled with all the gestures and began to back away when his cup shot out in one wild motion and accidentally slammed into me. The drink jumped out of the cup, covering both of us and staining his fine shirt. I stumbled backward, falling to the ground and dropping the jug to the ground. It shattered and sent shards of clay and splashes of wine in all directions. The drunk youth turned toward me, his as red as the large stain on his white shirt. He kicked out at me and berated me for my clumsiness and tried to kick again before a few other the other servers dragged me out of the way. I stood and rushed back, getting in the man's face and standing up straight. I was a little bit taller than him and he looked up slightly, anger controlling him. I nearly punched him then, ready to bash his disgusting, drunken snarl in. My fist was raised, and then I found myself being carried from the hall by four of my fellow servers.

     I was dragged to the kitchens, wine dripping from my entire body as I went. Once in the kitchen I was pushed back, the wet soles of my boots sliding across the smooth stone. I angrily pushed forward, pushing my way back toward the hall, only to be pushed back once more. Then Martha marched into the kitchen, large meaty fits on her hips as he stared me down.

     "And what the hell is your problem?" she asked, nearly shouting.

     I looked at the floor and the puddles forming around my feet, refusing to meet her gaze. She just marched off, back to what ever she had been doing. I made another dash for the hall and suddenly found myself on the stone floor, blackness creeping up on the edge of my vision. The next thing I remember is waking up in my room, the left side of my face throbbing painfully. I looked around my room with bleary eyes and noticed it devoid of all my little trinkets that I had put up to give the room a homey touch. The morning sun shone through the little window in my small room as I attempted to sit up, my head spinning. When the room finally sat still I looked around and saw all my things packed in a medium sized wooden chest near the door.

     A frown appeared on my face and I slowly stood, leaning heavily on the wall next to my bed as my head throbbed and darkness gathered on the edge of my vision. After a moment I could stand on my own again and I made my way to the door. The throbbing in my head grew as I walked toward the kitchen, the level of noise rising. I walked into the familiar bustle of the kitchen and looked for Martha. I spotted her walking through with a large bowl of dough and slowly made my way over to her. She looked at me once before turning back toward her path and work, relying on me to follow her.

     "You," Martha said, pointing at a small kitchen boy, "go get Brash's chest."

     I was about to open my mouth and ask what was going on, but she began to speak to another person, "Bryant, go get the pack pony that’s out in front of the stables." My old friend appeared out of nowhere and rushed out of the kitchen and toward the stables. I followed Martha, stumbling over the words that begun to flow from my mouth.

    "What's going on? Why's my stuff packed?" I asked.

     "You're leaving," Martha said curtly. "That stupid stunt you pulled last night got you kicked outta here, you're lucky you only losin' your job. You coulda risen high here, but no you throw it away because of some spilt wine."

     She handed off the bowl of dough to a younger boy and turned in another direction, leaving me to follow, speechless. She walked over to table that held a few cloth wrapped packages. Within moments they were piled into my arms as she explained things. I stood there nodding dumbly.

     "There's a package of clothing, a bit big, but you'll grow into them in no time at all. The bigger package has food and the small one has some coin in it. All this was bought with your wages that you've collected throughout the years. I also convinced the stablemaster to part with a young pack pony for half price." She said, turning away as the boy returned with my chest.

     She opened it up and placed the packages in before escorting me to the door. I walked silently behind her, taking in all the sights of the only home I'd had. When Martha exited the building I waited a moment, my gaze sweeping the kitchen before I turned and left. I found Bryant waiting outside with a young pack pony and he helped me strap my chest onto the animal's back before walking me to the gate. We said good-bye there and he turned back toward the kitchen as I walked out of the castle, leading the pony behind me.

     I wandered for a few days before I found a temporary job at an inn in the city. It wasn't the nicest place, but it was work. The first day there the other cook quit and I was on my own. Because of that the owner of the inn paid me near triple what he had been paying the others just so I would stay. I stayed for a week and raised a fair amount of money and began to buy my own gear for my job. At the end of that first week I had bumped into one of the chiefs I had worked under when I was younger. He remembered me well and remembered how I had excelled during the time I was learning from him. Luck seemed to be on my side and he got me a job with the merchant named Horace Grovent.

     My jobs consisted of working in the kitchens most the time and working as a waiter when Horace had dinner parties. I was paid well and my wages raised as Horace took interest in me. It was more like his daughter and wife took interest in me. His daughter grew attached to me and soon began requesting permission to accompany me on my outings. After a time his wife began to see me as the son she never had. When they dined alone I was invited and when they had guest over for dinner I was in up in charge of the servers and was always introduced to his friends. After a year I had earned enough to buy all the equipment I needed and had coin left over.

     I stayed in the man's employment for two years before I was dismissed. Horace pulled me aside one day to speak to me. By that time I had finished growing and his daughter took even more interest in me. Most days she would pull me from my duties for her entertainment and drag me to the market with her. Her father was beginning to worry. He knew I wasn't doing anything other than being myself, but his daughter had other thoughts. One of Horace's friend's sons was interested in the girl and as long as I was working in her house she wouldn't entertain thoughts of anyone else.

     He told me this and arranged for me to leave the next day, giving me more than enough coin to live comfortably for nearly a year. I was shocked, but later learned his wife had insisted that I have enough coin to live comfortably for a while if he insisted on making me leave. Before I left he handed me a package of clothing, a few different outfits for everyday life and some for work and pouch of coins. He saw me off with the promise that if I ever needed a place that I could return. I nodded and headed off to find another job, knowing that he just wished his daughter to have a good life.

     I traveled for a couple months before I headed back toward Voldar and found a small in on the road. I was slightly under paid, but had a nice room and three meals a day. That was all I needed at that time and it worked. I stayed there for four years and nothing really exciting happened. That was the longest job I had. I had only enlarged my coin pouch from when I had started there and left. The road to Voldar called me and I headed toward home, finding another small inn about three days walk outside the gates. It was a better paying job, but less homely arrangements.

     My room consisted of a small closet with enough room for a small bed, the two medium sized wooden chests, and two bags that held my stuff. But it was better than the road. The inn keeper enjoyed my work and planned on keeping me working. Since the inn keeper had hired me the common room had filled up most nights. It was about a year till something when wrong. It was nice there until his daughter took a liking to me.

     After a couple months she began visiting my closet during the nights. She would sneak out of her room and come to mine for the night before returning before morning. I was uncomfortable with this arrangement, but she seemed to have fallen for me and I couldn’t tell her I didn't feel the same way. For a few months that continued, until her stomach began to swell. At that time I was worried about what her father would do to me. He raged and fumed for a while until his daughter talked him into calming down. After that the fact that I would be a father hit me.

    Her father agreed to allow the child to be born, but after that I would take the kid and leave. Nine months later her farther was trying to push me out the door to quickly with a week old child in his arms. His daughter pleaded him to allow her a few months with the child. He folded once more and allowed her this. Once that time was up I was shoved out the door, having to give up half my pay for 'spoiling his daughter'. At that time I headed toward Voldar, leading the pony and holding the tiny child in my arms.

     I made it back to Voldar, barely. The three month old child kept me up during the nights the entire way and we woke early to begin our walk. I had to beg farmers along the way for milk for the child and none would turn me down when I produced coin. The gates of Voldar were a wonderful sight when they came into view and I knew just where I was heading. We made our way through the streets and I let out a small sigh of relief as the Grovent house came into view. I was welcomed back with open arms and Horace's wife enjoyed looking after my baby boy. I had returned to his Horace's daughter married and the old merchant looking older.

     I stayed for about three years, letting Cale grow up a bit before heading back out into the world with the boy. Horace's wife enjoyed going out and buying things for me and Cale, clothing for both of us, toys for the boy. While in the city I wandered a bit when I didn't have to work or take care of Cale. One day I had paused for a time while eating a steaming meat pie. The smell of the pie caused a local stray to approach. The hound snatched the pie from my hands and swallowed it in a gulp before looking around for more. I couldn't help, but grin down at the greedy hound before rising to my feet. I began to walk off and looked back to find the dog following me. I sighed and led him back to the house with me and brought out a thick strip of meat for her. She gulped it down and padded away. The next morning I found the dog sleeping near the back door and I once more fed her, hoping she would go away this time. I couldn't just leave her to starve and hoped she would leave with a full stomach. It didn't work, for about a week she stayed in the yard. Figuring I wouldn't get rid of the dog I took Cale out to see her one day. The boy took to the mutt right away and the hound seemed to take to the boy as well. 

     When it was finally time for us to leave they were sad to see us go, but I couldn't continue to burden them. Horace had his stablemaster make a small saddle with a high back and straps for Cale before we left. Cale had just turned three years old when we headed back into the world. I had two full pouches of coins when I left, a smaller one filled with coin I had earned working and another filled with coin given to me so I could take care of Cale. I didn't have to find a job right away, and so I headed out. Jakodi had grown fond of Cale in the time they had been together and the dog seemed to think she was a mother to the boy. I discovered that at the time I found Jak, she was just a pup and had grown much bigger before they left. I also learned the dog was pretty talented at hunting, from the birds I found at the back door in the mornings. So that's my story up until now. Cale and I travel now with Jakodi and the pack pony, Danto.

Equipment
     Weapons - The only weapon Brash really carries is a shortbow and quiver of arrows. He also has his knives for cooking, but they are strictly for making food.

     Belongings
          Food
     Nutbutter (Small ceramic jar)
     Array of spices and flavorings (Small packets)
     Bag of Fruits (Medium sack)
     Three bottles of wine
     Two bottles of juice
     Loaf of bread
     Half a wheel of cheese
     Feed for Danto
          *Sometimes he will have other items depending on how well his hunt and search for food has been.

          Healing
     Needle and Thread (Wrapped in small leather pouch)
     Salve for Minor Wounds (Small ceramic jar)
     Dreamer's Breath (Small packet of the flowers)
     Multiple thick white bandages (Small sack)
     
          Supplies
     Eight sharp knives of different sizes (Wrapped in thick leather sleeves)
     Five different sized pans
     Four different depth pots
     Large array of cooking utensils (Packed in medium sized leather bag)
     Copy of Dame Sausade’s Cookbook (Copied in his own hand)
     Two bedrolls and thick winter blankets
     Five waterskins
     Flint and steel
     Two medium chests
     Ink (Small glass jar)
     Quills (Small wooden box - holds four)
     Small book of blank parchment
     Charcoal sticks (Small wooden box - holds seven)
     Candles (Small wooden box - folds ten)
     Small mirror
     Shaving razor
     Two bars of soap
     Two person tent
     Bit and bridle
     Saddle
     Leash and collar
     Small coin pouch (Earned coin - Full)
     Medium coin pouch (Funds for Cale - Full)

     Familiar
          Jakodi - part Jhomcholan Diver and part wolf. This large hound is about the size of a large wolf, and helps Brash catch food and take care of Cale. The dog is about two years old. She has longish golden hair with a white chest and paws. Her long eyes are half way between standing up and drooping. Jak is a loyal hound and both Brash and Cale have grown attached to her.

          Danto - is a small pony with shaggy black hair and white patch on his forehead. The pony is about twelve years old now and Brash wonders how much longer the pony can handle travel. The hair on his chin is beginning to grey. However old he is, the pony doesn't seem to run out of energy most days. Brash had been with the pony for eleven years.

     Companion
          Cale is Brash's three year old son. The little boy always wakes up really early and fights with Brash about going to sleep at night. He loves playing with his father and Jak and never seems to run out of energy. He is growing really fast and is always hungry. During the first few years of his life he lived in Voldar and was close to being spoiled by the wife of the merchant they lived with. He has a small array of clothing; shirts are mostly blues and greys in color with grey or black pants. Some outfits are too big for him right now, but were bought for him to grow into. Cale is about three fores tall and really slender for how much he eats. He has shaggy brown hair that is cut just below his ears and falls into bright green eyes.
« Last Edit: Yesterday at 10:09:45 PM by Brash » Logged
Brash
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« Reply #1 on: December 22, 2007, 08:15:58 AM »

     Ok, well got two questions to ask.
1) Having a character with too much weakness would be bad as too much strength right?
2) Can someone take a look at my character's strengths and weaknesses? Imma be outta town for a week and will be working on this character some while I'm out, and if unbalanced might need to change some of his history. Don't wanna write it then have to rewrite it later.

                                                         Thanks, Brash  :)
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Simonne Miller
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« Reply #2 on: December 22, 2007, 12:29:12 PM »

The reason we ask for balancing is that we don't want people to godmod. Someone can basically have as many weaknesses as he wants. Of course, every person has some strengths, but in my opinion it's not as bad to have stronger weaknesses than it is to have stronger strengths :)

I'm sorry but I don't have the time right now to look at his S&W section. I'll try to squeeze it in today but I can't make any guarantees ;)
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Simonne Miller
Simonne Miller
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« Reply #3 on: December 22, 2007, 12:40:08 PM »

I had barely posted that or I saw that I had some time left :P

Let me congratulate you on a very original S&W section! The only thing I noticed (apart from a typo in the very last sentence: if pains him instead of it) is that he would need a weapon for hunting, I think. And a weapon should be listed among his strengths. Otherwise it looks fine! :)
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Simonne Miller
Brash
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« Reply #4 on: December 31, 2007, 07:03:04 AM »

Thanks for takin the time Simonne ...

     Yay finally finished!!!!
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Brash
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« Reply #5 on: Yesterday at 12:56:58 AM »

Bump

When ever yall have time ... just gettin him back up there ... thanks!  grin
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Twén Aråerwén
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« Reply #6 on: Yesterday at 01:25:33 AM »

Knife - Brash has some skill with a dagger, enough for him to kill a small creature that his hound chases in his direction. Most of the time he will be the one startling the animal toward the hound and allow the dog to kill it, but sometimes the animal heads his way and he needs to wield the knife. His skill is limited to killing animals and about one outta five times he will miss. Hunting prey with a knife would be nigh impossible, though it sounds all good and fine in fantasy it is highly unlikely. Missing only once outta five times is completely impossible, there are people with guns that hunt rabbit with far less accuracy than this. Even if he had the skill to pull this off once out of twenty times he can still use that level of skill against people. So there should be no notations that he is only effective against wildlife. Skill is skill.
~Sincerely~
Cáo cár'tuulenís:Twen Araerwen
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Simonne Miller
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« Reply #7 on: Yesterday at 01:49:29 AM »

Basics
     Name - Brash
          (No one who knows Brash remembers what his mother called him. She died when he was only six years old and no one pays attention to the name of the bastard child of a simple serving woman. During his childhood he was often called 'Boy' and some of the cooking staff called him 'Brash' due to his tendency to rush headlong into things and not think things through all the way. After a while the name stuck and he likes it better than 'boy'.)

     Gender - Male

     Age - 25

     Race - Human

     Tribe - Mutt
          Mother: Helcrani / Centoraurian
          Father: Erpheronian

     Occupation - Cook

     Title - Pressured Parent

     Overview - Brash grew up in the kitchens of the palace in Voldar. His father abandoned him before he was born and his mother was killed when he was six. The kitchen became his home until he was fourteen and he had to make his way on his own. Since he left the palace he had a very successful life and found good work where he went. After the birth of his son Cale he was kicked out of a small inn outside of Voldar and returned to the city and a merchant family he had worked for years before. They were on the verge of spoiling both child and man when they left.

Apperance
     Height - 1 ped, 2 fores, 2 palmspans, 1 nailsbreadth, and a grain

     Weight - 1 pygge, 7 hebs, 1 hafeb, 3 ods, and 7 muts

     Hair Color - Dark Brown

     Eye Color - Green

     Physical Apperance
          'Lanky'. That’s the first word that comes to mind when someone first looks at Brash. This tall and skinny young man appears to have never fully grown out of his painfully awkward stage. His body caught up with him years ago and that painfully goofy growing phase had passed mostly, but he is still awkward on his feet at times. The life of a chief doesn't actually require him to be very active but he had built up some muscle traveling around, the rigors of living outdoors taking a toll on him. His skin has slowly developed a light tan and his once weak form is not without strength now. When living off the land he has to try and trap his own meat sometimes, so his sleek form is muscled like that of a hunter.

          His face is youthful, but is showing the trials of his job and raising a three year old boy. Emerald green eyes sparkle like jewels at times when he is in a good mood or watching Cale. Brash's eyes are slightly sunken and ringed by dark circles from little sleep. This adds to his rumpled appearance. Dark brown hair hangs around his head, the length varying at times depending on how much free time he has. It mainly is cropped above his jaw and below his ears when he has the chance to keep it up. Most of the time the dark locks of wavy hair hangs in front of his emerald eyes and aggravates him, but he refuses to wear it any shorter. Aside from his hair and sparkling eyes he has a dazzling smile. White teeth gleaming most of the time since Brash is rarely without a grin on his face. He also always has the smell of differentce spices hanging over him.

     Clothing
          Warm Weather Outfit - Brash's warm weather outfit consists of an open neck forest green shirt with short sleeves that stop just above the elbow. The neck of the shirt settles just below his collar bone. A darker green fabric is used for the trim along the neck line, sleeve line, and shirt bottom. With that he has a pair of loose black leggings that tuck into ankle high sturdy leather boots. Around his waist is a worn leather belt that holds some of his things and a leather sheath.

          Cold Weather Outfit - His cold weather outfit is nearly the same. He wears a long sleeve green shirt with the sleeves able to be buttoned around his wrists. The neck goes down to the middle of his chest with buttons up to the clasp as at his neck. Most of the time he only buttons two or three out of the five buttons on the shirt since he can't stand the tightness around his neck. With this he wears padded black leggings that button around his ankle. Two buttons at the bottom of his leggings clasp the padded fabric around his boot tops to keep the cold out. The same leather belt and boots from his warm weather outfit are present here as well. Over that he wears a long green cloak with a deep hood.

          Work Outfit - When he is working he usually wears a long sleeve white shirt that laces up in the front and on the outside of both sleeves. This allows him to roll up his sleeves at times and keep them up if needed and allows easy movement. When tightly laced up it fits perfectly to his skinny arms and torso. With that he usually wears a pair of leather leggings and he has a stained white apron with two small pockets and three loops for utensils, around his waist. The same boots are once more added to this outfit.  

          Hunting Outfit - When he goes out hunting for food he usually wears a worn and patched, soft, long-sleeved, leather shirt with his leather leggings with the same boots and belt. This allows for him to move around easily and be protected if he stumbles upon game that could be dangerous or something else like what?.

         * Note - He has two of each outfit except for his hunting shirt.

Personality
     Most people that meet Brash will agree that his is a rather likeable young man and very courteous. As a little boy he had to learn to behave at dinner parties and around nobility. He has always been fun to be around and that is still the case even thought most of the time he is ready to sleep. Even though his little boy keeps him from sleeping he feels like a little kid again. Brash is always up for fun, and playing with Cale is almost always on the top of his list of things to do. He is really easy going and is pretty much everyone's friends. There are few people who he can't find a way to get along with. Some times others think him rude because he will nod off in the middle of a conversation. He can't help it; he tends to get little sleep most nights, some more than others depending on the situation. On the rare occasions when he gets a full night sleep it doesn't help much. Another thing that tends to aggravate people if when he has to run off after Cale in the middle of a conversation. The little boy is always looking for trouble or playing with Jak.    

Strengths
          Culinary Arts - Brash has been trained in the art of cooking. He knows how to cook many dishes and this is the way he earns coin. Along with this knowledge of how to cook he had picked up knowledge about edible plants. This helps him since he can provide his own food when out on the road.

          Hunting - While working on one inn he spent time with innno spacekeeper's son and picked up a bit of skill in hunting and tracking. He spends a lot of time on the road so this allows him to catch food and feed himself and his companions. His skill is limited and he could not catch anything without the hound he found.

          Hound - Jakodi, part Jhomcholan Diver and part wolf. This large hound is about the size of a large wolf, and helps Brash catch food and take care of Cale. With both of their hunting skills they are able to take down game most days. For smaller catches she will startle the animal in his direction and for larger game it's the other way around.

          Survival - Brash has adapted to living out on the road. He can gather edible plants and take down game to feed himself, Cale, and the animals. Sometimes they don't find a place to stay and must survive on the road for weeks at a time. His survival ability also helps him in large cities.

          Knife - Brash has some skill with a dagger, enough for him to kill a small creature that his hound chases in his direction. Most of the time he will be the one startling the animal toward the hound and allow the dog to kill it, but sometimes the animal heads his way and he needs to wield the knife. His skill is limited to killing animals and about one outta out of five times he will miss.

Weaknesses
         Cale - Cale is his three year old son that he has to take on the road with him. Brash has learned that it's a lot of work taking care of a three year old boy. When he's not hungry or tired or needing something, Cale is running around finding some sort of trouble to get into. When he is anywhere he has to keep an eye on Cale so the little boy doesn't get into trouble or danger. It affects his sleep, free time, and ability to do his work well at times.

         Little Sleep - His job as a cook always has him up at early hours and so does his job as a father. He finds that he gets little sleep lately and that affects his ability to be aware of his surroundings. Some weeks are worse than others and he finds that he can barely keep his eyes open at times, let alone chase after a three year old or watch his back.

          Parenting - Brash never really had parents and finds himself raising a three year old boy. He's not exactly sure how to take care of the boy and is learning as he goes. Guilt plagues him and he worries that he isn't good enough for this little boy. He had help with the kid first few years, but now he is on his own and trying to keep up with the boy. you have 'boy' four times in as many sentences ;)

          Knee Problems - When climbing up a tree to get some fruit for them Brash fell and injured his right knee. He was barely able to move for two weeks and had to lean on the pack horse to walk for a month after that. Now it has healed mostly, but sometimes he will begin to limp when he over uses his knee and during the winter it pains him.


History
     I was brought into the world on the night a harsh storm swept across the land. My mother, Karren, suffered through fourteen hours of labor. Lying on a sweat soaked bed in a small, chilly room in the servant's quarters of the palace. Some of Karren's closest friends within the castle stood in the hall outside the little room, waiting, and fetching things for the midwife when she emerged for from the room for moments at a time. I came into the world as the first bell tolled on the 5th day of Frozen Rivers.

     My mother was barely past her eighteenth birthday when I was born and was a serving girl at the castle in Voldar. The father I never knew was a lowly Lord who had traveled to Voldar for a visit. While staying in the castle he had taken a liking to my mother and seduced her. For a week he called her to his chambers at nights, promising to take her with him back to his holdings. Young and naive as she was she believed the lies and fell in love with the handsome nobleman. Karren was crushed when the man left without warning, returning to his holdings and lovely young wife that waited for him. She wouldn't even admit her closest friends into her chamber to consul her. Weeks passed and a grey cloud hung over her each day, and a sickness had begun its reign over her. She spent day's constantly vomiting the contents of her stomach, and her belly slowly began to swell. Nine months of agony followed for my mother.

     Not much really happened during the first five years of my life. It was basically the day to day life of a little boy growing up, but a bit crueler. Every where I went servants would point and laugh. I was often called a bastard though then I didn't know what they were saying or what they meant. My mother was tormented as well, the servants, workers, and soldiers of the castle knowing about the Lord that had she had been tricked by. They thought it incredibly funny they he that she had fallen for the man's lies. Many of the male servants and men-at-arms had their way with her during those years, overpowering the young woman with superior strength. I found myself alone in the small chambers I shared with my mother most nights but was never really aware of the fact that I was alone or what was happening outside the stone walls.

     Karren was found dead behind the stables one morning in a few months before my sixth birthday. She was simply disposed of, no questions asked. The castle steward kept the information of her death from the Thane though rumors flew and he eventually found out but didn’t pay any mind to the death of a serving woman. A little boy paid mind to the murder of his mother, thought no one seemed to care. I wept within the stone walls of the small room for a couple months, some of my mother's old friends bringing me food and tidying up the room, but nothing more. I was completely alone now and well aware of it. My mother would never again return to the room in the middle of the night and wrap her arms around me as I dozed fitfully. At the age of six I had to begin to fend for myself in the wide open world.

     One of Karren's closest friends, Jacline, watched after me a bit, but she had her own work to deal with. She worked in the kitchens and convinced the cook to take me on the staff, working for food and clothing. The large woman that ran the kitchen agreed and gave me small tasks, working along side the other kitchen boys. The others were a few years older than me and practiced hands at working in the kitchen already. Most laughed as they watched me struggle through the crowd of people in the beginning and did all they could to make things worse on the six year old little boy that had invaded their territory. One youth in the group stepped up and helped me out, guiding me through my tasks and teaching me how to stay out of other people's way.

     Bryant was his name and he was ten, the oldest kitchen boy at that time by a month. The others scorned him, but he didn't really mind. I spent the days tailing BrashYou tailed yourself? ;) Bryant, following his instructions and learning my way around the kitchen. At nights I returned to the room that had been my mothers, while the other kitchen boys slept on pallets in a small room to the side of the kitchen. The other servants in the same wing didn't seem to mind me keeping my mother's room as long as I didn't disturbed them, so I always returned to the reassuring familiarity of the four, no comma cold, stone walls each night.

     I learned fairly swiftly, knowing where I was wanted and where I wasn't. After a few months I could easily slip through the mass of people better than any other older boys, my smaller size giving me a huge advantage. While working together Bryant and I would always get our tasks done early and found time to sneak away from the chaos of the kitchen. We'd snag a few pastries and stuff them in our mouths as we made our escape. Those afternoons off were the best, spent rough housing in the yard, exploring the keep, walking the battlements, talking to the guards, and more. In my six year old mind it was prefect perfect and I thought it would never change, but I was wrong. I was about six and a half when my days of escaping ended.
          
     Bryant and I were wrestling in a secluded part of the courtyard one day. The guards stationed on the wall about chuckling at the two young boys' mock-fighting below them and cheering us on. I had just gained some leverage and had my short arm wrapped around my friend's neck and was hanging on his back. The guards let out a small groan as Bryant let himself fall on his back, using me to catch his fall. With an audible grunt and loud whoosh my lungs empty. I struggled to sit, gasping for a breath, while Bryant took advantage. He pulled my arms back behind my back and brought them upward to bring slight pain to my shoulders. I had almost caught my breath by then, and chanced a look up on the wall where the guards sat with their legs hanging off the side, watching us. A small grimace crossed one of their faces while the other gloated with a smug 'I told you so look'. I was stuck and I knew it, and so did the guards and Bryant. He was bigger, stronger, and older. So I quit struggling and worked on catching my breath first. Suddenly the pressure on my arms was released and I looked up at the guards, whose faces had gone white and were struggling to get up. I turned slowly to find the head cook holding Bryant by the back of his shirt, the boy's feet hanging above the ground a bit.

     "Enough," she said, dropping Bryant. Then she turned her gaze on the guards. "Don't yall have anythin' betta ta do than encourage youths to fight?"

     With that the guards jumped up back to their duty, moving as far away from that section of the wall as fast as possible, casting looks of pity over their shoulders for the boys. Once the guards had cleared that area the head cook turned her attention on us. I looked back at her, the large woman I had seen everyday for half a year and didn’t really know her. To me at six years old she was scary and mean and was to be avoided. Her dark brown gaze was enough to scare even the oldest of the kitchen boys. She was a small woman, but very large. At six years old I thought she could swallow me whole. I looked up into her dark brown gaze and couldn’t help but tremble a bit, waiting for what would happen next.

     "It seems you two have too much time on ya hands," she said sternly. Then she turned to the older boy, "Bryant you have pastry duty from now on, go make yaself useful."

     With that Bryant scuttled to his feet and raced off, looking back at me for a moment, pity clear on his face as he hurried away. I curled up as small as I could make myself as the head chief, Martha, turned her gaze on me. I waited for the punishment that I was almost sure would be coming. Then, washing dishes for the rest of my life seemed like the worst thing imaginable, and then she spoke.

     "Boy, you're working with me now," she said gruffly, "Follow me."

     She started off toward the kitchen, expecting me to follow. I tailed after her like a lost puppy, cautiously following as swiftly as I dared. I didn't know then that this was a worse punishment than dishes for the rest of my life. I was expected to be up before the rest of the staff, clean, and ready to go before the head chief reached the kitchen. I tailed her, listening to everything she told me and learning a lot. She seemed to think of me as her apprentice. I later learned that she had heard of my speed and ability to finish tasks swiftly at a young age and she had chosen to train me. If I would have known then how the next few years of my life would turn out I might have been a little slower.

     For three years I was her shadow. I followed her around the kitchen, learning about spices and where they could be found and made. I also learned about all sorts of edible plants and how to cook them. Learned about all the different species of animal that could be eaten, which were common and rare, which tasted good with witch spices and seasonings, and more. My head was stuffed with knowledge about foods, animals, and plants all day long every day. Some times she would give me a break and send me out to the market or wilderness I don't think Voldar really has a 'wildernis'. Everything's pretty cultivated around there. with an older worker to get items for the kitchen, in a way I was learning even more. I unknowingly learned where plants could be found and how much certain things should cost.

     After three years she pawned me off on the other staff members. She put me into the hands of another chief in the kitchen for a couple of months to learn more about the trade. After those months I would more move? to another chief and learn more. My life seemed to be consumed with learning. I saw Bryant a couple of times, but he was always busy with the pastry chiefs. My time was no longer my own, and the nights that I actually got some rest a strange loneliness ate at me. I suffered through it and survived to reach ten years of age.

     A few months after I had turned ten, Martha approached me as I moved around the kitchen, working on a new dish. She snatched the bowl that I was carrying and dropped it down on the table near by. The bowl swirled around a few times before finally setting down right on the edge of the table. I watched the bowl it (don't use the same word too often within a short distance) fall as a younger kitchen boy swept by it. Martha tossed a pile of folded new clothes into my hands as she turned on the boy and berated him for his clumsiness and ordered him to clean it up. She turned her attention on me and I fumbled under her gaze, trying to keep the pile of clothing from tumbling to the ground that was now littered with the contents of my bowl.

     "You're filling in for one of the boys at the dinner tonight. One of them got sick and I was asked to find a suitable replacement. You're not much, but you will do," Martha said. "Now go get dressed, boy."

     I hurried off without a word, running toward my room, the outfit getting rumpled as I fumbled to open the door with one hand. My room was a mess, my few clothes scattered over the floor, packages of spices covering the top of a small chest in the corner, and my thick blankets were bundled in an odd pile atop the straw mattress. I sighed and dumped the clothes on my bed, reaching up behind my head to pull of the stained white shirt I was wearing. I quickly pulled on the clothing that had been shoved into my arms and stood in front of the small mirror in my room. The clean white shirt clung to my small body and the black leggings constricted my movements. I tried to smooth the wrinkles in the white shirt and was tugging at the collar of it when there was a knock at the door.

     I opened the door to find the same little boy from the kitchens standing in front of me, holding a pair of shiny black boots and a clean white apron. He shoved these into my hands and scuttled off silently. I thought he looked really funny to my ten year old mind. I figured the boy was about six, about the same age I was when Bryant stood up for me. I grinned, thinking about Bryant and knew I should go speak to him soon. I thought for a while someone banged on my door and the angry voice of the head chief called through the door. I hurriedly pulled on the too tight, shiny boots and ran out of the room, tying the apron around my waist as I went, the head chief at my back. She walked behind me, smoothing my hair and drowning me in my responsibilities for the evening.

     I stumbled into the hall and found my place beside the other serving boys, standing silently as the guest walking walked in. Moments later I found myself serving wine to the people at one end of the table before being rushed off into the kitchen to grab platters of food. Next thing I knew I was following a line of boys out to the table and setting down a platter of food before turning back to the kitchen for more. The night passed by and as far as I can remember I didn't make one mistake, but I remember very little. I remember stumbling into bed early in the morning into the cloths I had been wearing and waking only an hour or so later to a kitchen boy banging on my door.

     My life went on as usual for a while, spending each day in the kitchen, and finding myself playing serving boy at some noble's dinner once a month or so. I saw little of my friend in those days, running through life so swiftly I barely remember the passing of days or years. Before I knew it my fourteenth birthday was only a month or so away. It seemed like only a few days had passed but it had been four years. My life seemed to be too much of the same each day, and I was beginning to grow bored of it. Well, I actually didn't think that there was much more to like than cooking until I turned fourteen.

     It was another of the noble's fancy dinners and once more I was assigned to the hall. I hurried off to my rooms to get ready, digging through my chest of clothing to find something that fit. I had grown a lot and found that clothing that actually fit me was a blessing. I settled for a pair of black leggings that were a bit too snug and the bottoms barely covered the top of my ankle high boots. I pulled on a somewhat wrinkled white shirt. The sleeves were a bit short and I had to roll them up just above my elbows so I didn't look stupid in the too short shirt. With a sigh I tied my clean apron around my waist and smoothed my hair as I made my way to the hall.

     It started out like any other dinner. Pouring wine, serving food, and waiting on guests. I was refilling a glass of wine for a young man who was slightly older than me. He was speaking to a young woman next to him, the wine already getting to his head. He made wide gestures that caused me to miss and spill a bit of wine on the white table cloth. I hastily pulled a clean cloth from the pockets in my apron and mopped up the small spill. The young man continued speaking, as if it was nothing. My ears picked up little bits of conversation as I cleaned up the mess. The man spoke in clear disdain of the layout of food. I held down the little bit of anger that rose up into me, holding my tongue as he talked about other places he had eaten better.

     I lifted the bottle of wine once more and tried to pour again. I managed to get his cup filled though through? all the gestures and began to back away when his cup shot out in one wild motion and accidentally slammed into me. The drink jumped out of the cup, covering both of us and staining his fine shirt. I stumbled backward, falling to the ground and dropping the bottle to the ground. It shattered and sent shards of glass and splashes of wine in all directions. I'm not sure if he'd have a bottle, to be honest. Glass is really rather expensive, so they'd probably have jugs, rather than bottles. The drunk youth turned toward me, his head?as red as the large stain on his white shirt. He kicked out at me and berated me for my clumsiness and tried to kick again before a few other the other servers dragged me out of the way. I stood and rushed back, getting in the man's face and standing up straight. I was a little bit taller than him and he looked up slightly, anger controlling him. I nearly punched him then, ready to bash his disgusting, drunken snarl in. My fist was raised, and then I found myself being carried from the hall by four of my fellow servers.

     I was dragged to the kitchens, wine dripping from my entire body as I went. Once in the kitchen I was pushed back, the wet soles of my boots sliding across the smooth stone. I angrily pushed forward, pushing my way back toward the hall, only to be pushed back once more. Then Martha marched into the kitchen, large meaty fits on her hips as he stared me down.

     "And what the hell is your problem?" she asked, nearly shouting.

     I looked at the floor and the puddles forming around my feet, refusing to meet her gaze. She just marched off, back to what ever she had been doing. I made another dash for the hall and suddenly found myself on the stone floor, blackness creeping up on the edge of my vision. The next thing I remember is waking up in my room, the left side of my face throbbing painfully. I looked around my room with bleary eyes and noticed it devoid of all my little trinkets that I had put up to give the room a homey touch. The morning sun shone through the little window in my small room as I attempted to sit up, my head spinning. When the room finally sat still I looked around and saw all my things packed in a medium sized wooden chest near the door.

     A frown appeared on my face and I slowly stood, leaning heavily on the wall next to my bed as my head throbbed and darkness gathered on the edge of my vision. After a moment I could stand on my own again and I made my way to the door. The throbbing in my head grew as I walked toward the kitchen, the level of noise rising. I walked into the familiar bustle of the kitchen and looked for Martha. I spotted her walking through with a large bowl of dough and slowly made my way over to her. She looked at me once before turning back toward her path and work, relying on me to follow her.

     "You," Martha said, pointing at a small kitchen boy, "go get Brash's chest."

     I was about to open my mouth and ask what was going on, but she began to speak to another person, "Bryant, go get the pack pony that’s out in front of the stables." My old friend appeared out of nowhere and rushed out of the kitchen and toward the stables. I followed Martha, stumbling over the words that begun to flow from my mouth.

    "What's going on? Why's my stuff packed?" I asked.

     "You've You're leaving," Martha said curtly. "That stupid stunt you pulled last night got you kicked outta here, your you're lucky you only losin' your job. You coulda risen high here, but no you throw it away because of some spilt wine."

     She handed off the bowl of dough to a younger boy and turned in another direction, leaving me to follow, speechless. She walked over to table that held a few cloth wrapped packages. Within moments they were piled into my arms as she explained things. I stood there nodding dumbly.

     "There's a package of clothing, a bit big, but you'll grow into them in no time at all. The bigger package has food and the small one has some coin in it. All this was bought with your wages that you've collected throughout the years. I also convinced the stablemaster to part with a young pack pony for half price." She said, turning away as the boy returned with my chest.

     She opened it up and placed the packages in before escorting me to the door. I walked silently behind her, taking in all the sights of the only home I'd had. When Martha exited the building I waited a moment, my gaze sweeping the kitchen before I turned and left. I found Bryant waiting outside with a young pack pony and he helped me strap my chest onto the animal's back before walking me to the gate. We said good-bye there and he turned back toward the kitchen as I walked out of the castle, leading the pony behind me.

     I wandered for a few days before I found a temporary job at an inn in the city. It wasn't the nicest place, but it was work. The first day there the other cook quit and I was on my own. Because of that the owner of the inn paid me near triple what he had been paying the others just so I would stay. I stayed for a week and raised a fair amount of money and began to buy my own gear for my job. At the end of that first week I had bumped into one of the chiefs I had worked under when I was younger. He remembered me well and remembered how I had excelled during the time I was learning from him. Luck seemed to be on my side and he got me a job with the merchant named Horace Grovent.

     My jobs consisted of working in the kitchens most the time and working as a waiter when Horace had dinner parties. I was paid well and my wages raised as Horace took interest in me. It was more like his daughter and wife took interest in me. His daughter grew attached to me and soon began requesting permission to accompany me on my outings. After a time his wife began to see me as the son she never had. When they dined alone I was invited and when they had guest over for dinner I was in up in charge of the servers and was always introduced to his friends. After a year I had earned enough to buy all the equipment I needed and had coin left over.

     I stayed in the man's employment for two years before I was dismissed. Horace pulled me aside one day to speak to me. By that time I had finished growing and his daughter took even more interest in me. Most days she would pull me from my duties for her entertainment and drag me to the market with her. Her father was beginning to worry. He knew I wasn't doing anything other than being myself, but his daughter had other thoughts. One of Horace's friend's sons was interested in the girl and as long as I was working in her house she wouldn't entertain thoughts of anyone else.

     He told me this and arranged for me to leave the next day, giving me more than enough coin to live comfortably for nearly a year. I was shocked, but later learned his wife had insisted that I have enough coin to live comfortably for a while if he insisted on making me leave. Before I left he handed me a package of clothing, a few different outfits for everyday life and some for work and pouch of coins. He saw me off with the promise that if I ever needed a place that I could return. I nodded and headed off to find another job, knowing that he just wished his daughter to have a good life.

     I traveled for a couple months before I headed back toward Voldar and found a small in on the road. I was slightly under paid, but had a nice room and three meals a day. That was all I needed at that time and it worked. I stayed there for four years and nothing really exciting happened. That was the longest job I had. I had only enlarged my coin pouch from when I had started there and left. The road to Voldar called me and I headed toward home, finding another small inn about five days walk outside the gates. It was a better paying job, but less homely arrangements.

     My room consisted off of a small closet with enough room for a small bed, the two medium sized wooden chests, and two bags that held my stuff. But it was better than the road. The inn keeper enjoyed my work and planed planned on keeping me working. Since the inn keeper had hired me the common room had filled up most nights. It was about a year till something when wrong. It was nice there until his daughter took a liking to me.

     After a couple months she began visiting my closet during the nights. She would sneak out off of her room and come to mine for the night before returning before morning. I was uncomfortable with this arrangement, but she seemed to have fallen for me and I couldn’t tell her I didn't feel the same way. For a few months that continued, until her stomach began to swell. At that time I was worried about what her father would do to me. He raged and fumed for a while until his daughter talked him into calming down. After that the fact that I would be a father hit me.

    Her father agreed to allow the child to be born, but after that I would take the kid and leave. Nine months later her farther was trying to push me out the door to quickly with a week old child in his arms. His daughter pleaded him to allow her a month with the child. He folded once more and allowed her this. Once that time was up I was shoved out the door, half my pay to the owner. 'half my pay to the owner'? What does that mean? At that time I headed toward Voldar, leading the pony and holding the tiny child in my arms.

     I made it back to Voldar, barely. The child kept me up during the nights the entire way and we woke early to begin our walk. how did he feed the child? A babe of one month needs milk to keep him nourished... The gates of Voldar were a wonderful sight when they came into view and I knew just where I was heading. We made our way through the streets and I let out a small sigh of relief as the Grovent house came into view. I was welcomed back with open arms and Horace's wife enjoyed looking after my baby boy. I had returned to his Horace's daughter married and the old merchant looking older.

     I stayed for about three years, letting Cale grow up a bit before heading back out into the world with the boy. Horace's wife enjoyed going out and buying things for me and Cale, clothing for both of us, toys for the boy. While in the city I wandered a bit when I didn't have to work or take care of Cale. One day I had paused for a time while eating a steaming meat pie. The smell of the pie caused a local stray to approach. The hound snatched the pie from my hands and swallowed it in a gulp before looking around for more. I couldn't help, but grin down at the greedy hound before rising to my feet. I began to walk off and looked back to find the dog following me. I sighed and led him back to the house with me and brought out a thick strip of meat for her. She gulped it down and padded away. The next morning I found the dog sleeping near the back door and I once more fed her, hoping she would go away this time. Doesn't he know that's the best way to keep strays with you, feeding them? ;) It didn't work, for about a week she stayed in the yard. Figuring I wouldn't get rid of the dog I took Cale out to see her one day. The boy took to the mutt right away and the hound seemed to take to the boy as well.  

     When it was finally time for us to leave they were sad to see us go, but I couldn't continue to burden them. Horace had his stablemaster make a small saddle with a high back and straps for Cale before we left. Cale had just turned three years old when we headed back into the world. I had two full pouches of coins when I left, a smaller one filled with coin I had earned working and another filled with coin given to me so I could take care of Cale. I didn't have to find a job right away, and so I headed out. Jakodi had grown fond of Cale in the time they had been together and the dog seemed to think she was a mother to the boy. I found that at the time I found Jak, she was just a pup and had grown much bigger before they left. This sentence doesn't make too much sense. Perhaps if you replace 'I found' with 'I discovered that'? I also learned the dog was pretty talented at hunting, from the birds I found at the back door in the mornings. So that's my story up until now. Cale and I travel now with Jakodi and the pack pony, Danto.

Equipment
     Weapons - The only weapon Brash really carries is a dagger that he uses to hunt with. He also has his knives for cooking, but they are strictly for making food.

     Belongings
          Food
     Nutbutter (Small ceramic jar)
     Array of spices and flavorings (Small packets)
     Bag of Fruits (Medium sack)
     Three bottles of wine
     Two bottles of juice
     Loaf of bread
     Half a wheel of cheese
     Feed for Danto
          *Sometimes he will have other items depending on how well his hunt and search for food has been.

          Healing
     Needle and Thread (Wrapped in small leather pouch)
     Salve for Minor Wounds (Small ceramic jar)
     Dreamer's Breath (Small packet of the flowers)
     Multiple thick white bandages (Small sack)
    
          Supplies
     Eight sharp knives of different sizes (Wrapped in thick leather sleeves)
     Five different sized pans
     Four different depth pots
     Large array of cooking utensils (Packed in medium sized leather bag)
     Copy of Dame Sausade’s Cookbook (Copied in his own hand)
     Two bedrolls and thick winter blankets
     Five waterskins
     Flint and steel
     Two medium chests
     Ink (Small glass jar)
     Quills (Small wooden box - holds four)
     Small book of blank parchment
     Charcoal sticks (Small wooden box - holds seven)
     Candles (Small wooden box - folds ten)
     Small mirror
     Shaving razor
     Two bars of soap
     Two person tent
     Bit and bridle
     Saddle
     Leash and collar
     Small coin pouch (Earned coin - Full)
     Medium coin pouch (Funds for Cale - Full)

     Familiar
          Jakodi - part Jhomcholan Diver and part wolf. This large hound is about the size of a large wolf, and helps Brash catch food and take care of Cale. The dog is about two years old. She has longish golden hair with a white chest and paws. Her long eyes are half way between standing up and drooping. Jak is a loyal hound and both Brash and Cale have grown attached to her.

          Danto - is a small pony with shaggy black hair and white patch on his forehead. The pony is about twelve years old now and Brash wonders how much longer the pony can handle travel. The hair on his chin is beginning to grey. However old he is, the pony doesn't seem to run out of energy most days. Brash had been with the pony for eleven years.

     Companion
          Cale is Brash's three year old son. The little boy always wakes up really early and fights with Brash about going to sleep at night. He loves playing with his father and Jak and never seems to run out of energy. He is growing really fast and is always hungry. During the first few years of his life he lived in Voldar and was close to being spoiled by the wife of the merchant they lived with. He has a small array of clothing; shirts are mostly blues and greys in color with grey or black pants. Some outfits are too big for him right now, but were bought for him to grow into. Cale is about three fores tall and really slender for how much he eats. He has shaggy brown hair that is cut just below his ears and falls into bright green eyes.
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Youth is the gift of nature, but age is a work of art...

Simonne Miller
Brash
Pressured Parent
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Posts: 6

Human, Centoraurian / Helcrani / Erpheronian


« Reply #8 on: Yesterday at 02:44:26 AM »

Alright ... edited that weakness, lookin back and havin it pointed out helped, thanks Twen ... and thanks Simonne for lookin over the grammer ... I have marked a few changes in teal ... and all the other little spellin/typin/grammer errors have been edited.
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Simonne Miller
Meddling Herbalist
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Human, Caltharian


« Reply #9 on: Yesterday at 12:07:06 PM »

Here's your first approval! Enjoy playing - I don't doubt you will, with an interesting character like Brash.
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Youth is the gift of nature, but age is a work of art...

Simonne Miller
Vesk Lyricahl
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Posts: 1357


Human, Eyelian


« Reply #10 on: Yesterday at 07:50:33 PM »

Second approval and titled.

Remove the color from your CD and this will be moved down. ;)
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I am but a dreamer in this waking nightmare some would call life. ~ Vesk
Brash
Pressured Parent
Approved Character
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Posts: 6

Human, Centoraurian / Helcrani / Erpheronian


« Reply #11 on: Yesterday at 10:10:36 PM »

Colors been removed ... Thanks
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