Post by Carneth on Mar 22, 2009 22:15:52 GMT -5
This is what I have of my backstory. Please let me know what you think, or if you have any suggestions as to how to improve aspects of it.
Carneth’s Story
Oromo and his fellow sentries looked up even before the beaten and battered woman stumbled into the revealing firelight. She was a young thing, not quite into her prime yet showing some of the signs of being exposed to the realities of the world too quickly. Her eyes were sullen and she obviously had been starving through winter like too many do, though he could tell she had a pretty face behind the bruises. She was short, for a human, but slender. For a moment their eyes met and she managed a half-smile, mouthing “dwarves” before falling face-first into the dirt.
----------------
Three days later, Oromo found himself still fretting over the mysterious woman who had wandered into their post, somehow making it past the perimeter guards. The others, his friends, didn’t seem to understand why he continued putting so much of his energy into this clearly doomed attempt at saving this woman’s life. He didn’t rightly understand himself. All Oromo knew was that when she had looked across the fire at him he knew it was his goal, no his duty to make sure she would not perish. Perhaps it was a divine message, or perhaps just the fact that she was fully human and while he reveled in his own dwarven heritage, he also spent so much time with the other race in Stonehollow, the humans. There were few enough in the town of Stonehollow who had any human blood, and most of them were family. Whatever the reason, he continued pouring his heart and soul into this woman’s recovery.
----------------
It was finally early spring, and Oromo entered his small house to find the bed empty where the woman had been laying. As the panic started to set in, he heard what seemed a melody from the second room.
“Thank you, kind sir, for all you’ve done. Though never did I suspect I would owe my life to a dwarf,” she said.
"Well, life's full o' 'em little surprises." He replied
She chuckled, and they stood there and stared at each other.
---------
Syndedria, she said her name was. Syndedria
-Ten Years Later-
“She didn’t live through ye’re birth son,” said Thorngar, Carneth’s guardian, “and he didn’t last long after. Thought ye were dead, he did. We all did. Only after he walked out, looking cold as stone, did the midwife find ye whole. We searched and searched for yer father, but never was he found.”
Carneth tried to understand this news. These were his parents? His mother had died with his birth? All his life he has thought he was a dwarf. And here he found out he was half-human. His friends wouldn't look at him the same way, never mind how much he resembled a dwarf. Here, in the dwarven town of Stonehollow, he didn’t belong.
-Nine Years Pass-
Despite the feelings of alienation, Carneth continued on in Stonehollow. After all, where had he to go? And truly, his dwarven heritage sung out to him as well. Still, there were worries. Being half-dwarf, could he only expect a couple hundred years, instead of the usual four? Would he age like a human, instead of a dwarf, and find himself aged and infirm after only a century?
The young lad had grown into a man. Standing at 5'3", he was easily the tallest dwarf of Stonehollow. Yet dwarf he was. Dwarves seemed to think his dwarven half was more important and prominent than his human side. Dwarves are traditionalists, and while the human-dwarf relations in Stonehollow were not strained, it was common that the humans would not even know of some dwarven events and customs. The dwarves treated him like he was a true-blooded (if pretty tall) dwarf and, surprisingly, this didn't stop the humans from treating him like a short man, either.
His hair was long and his beard was growing, for he had joined the Guard, and it had become tradition among the humans to let one's hair grow until they day you retired. (Every dwarf let his beard grow his whole life, regardless of their profession.) Some of the older Guards, many of who had patrolled next to Carneth's father, had long braids down their backs. His own was tied with a leather thong, and touched the bottom of his shoulder-blades.
And there was need of the Guard, for Stonehollow had grown over the years from a large town to a small city. More permanent fortifications were constructed. No longer were they guarded by mere wooden gates, but large stone walls were erected around the entrance to the vale. With these improvements came the necessity of more organization and force.
Carneth had risen quickly through the ranks of the Guard. He was now a Captian, in command of a score of troops, with varying amounts of dwarven heritage. Gone was the feeling of the overwhelming dwarven majority. Instead, Stonehollow now stood with over a third of citizens with primarily human heritage.
--------------------
Carneth ran for all his life. His troops ran behind, in front of, and around him. No Guard of Stonehollow took retreat lightly, yet all were conditioned to be fleet-of-foot and to maximize the number of survivors who escaped a trap or ambush.
This time, it was worse than ever before.
Stonehollow had existed for a long time without much conflict. The Guard was well-trained, but many lacked much actual experience. Unfortunately, trolls had come to Stonehollow, and never is it a good situation to wander into fourscore enemies with only a score of your own.
After running for what seemed like a league, Carneth called for a halt. They had eluded their enemies. Yet before he had even ordered a role-call, he knew they were short of their twenty Guards. Finor and Tinor, the twin point-scouts, were missing. Carneth knew what his orders mandated he should do, and what he needed to do.
“But what do I do?” he asked himself.
“What ye know ye must,” said Thorngar, his second-in-command and most trusted friend.
----------------------
The Council of Elders looked down into his eyes, which stung from the light they had been deprived of for the past few days. The dungeons of Stonehollow were not designed to inspire hope.
“Carneth, son of Oromo and Syndedria, it saddens our hearts to see ye here before us,” said the High Seat behind his hooded cowl. All Carneth could see of the seven dwarves were their grey beards as they shook their heads in disapproval.
The Voice of the Council of Elders, a particularly imposing dwarf with a black beard and bushy eyebrows, voiced the decision of the Council:
“For the blatant disregard of the orders given to ye, ye're stripped of your rank of Captain, and relieved of yer duties in the Guard.”
Carneth lowered his head, a tear streaming down his face. He flinched as they ceremonially cut the hair off his head. Once again, he had lost his place. Once again, he didn’t belong. But the Voice was not done.
“For the choice ye made, which put three deaths on ye're shoulders, including that of Thorngar Ironhammer…” he paused, and Carneth let out a loud sob which all the room heard, which was not the first he had uttered since his return from the ill-fated patrol, “…and Finor and Tinor Strongarm…”
“…ye're banished from Stonehollow,” the Voice finished with little more than a whisper.
-----------------------
“But where do I go?” asked Carneth when he had recovered from his shock. Then he got angry. “I have no other home. Stonehollow is me home!”
“Go East oustsider,” said the High Seat, striking a blow in the face of Carneth’s rage, “go East. For that is the direction yer mother came.” He was not without sympathy, but dwarven law had no less hardness than the well-known dwarven resolve.
“But what lies East?” asked Carneth softly, hopelessly.
"Like ye, that is none of our concern."
Carneth’s Story
Oromo and his fellow sentries looked up even before the beaten and battered woman stumbled into the revealing firelight. She was a young thing, not quite into her prime yet showing some of the signs of being exposed to the realities of the world too quickly. Her eyes were sullen and she obviously had been starving through winter like too many do, though he could tell she had a pretty face behind the bruises. She was short, for a human, but slender. For a moment their eyes met and she managed a half-smile, mouthing “dwarves” before falling face-first into the dirt.
----------------
Three days later, Oromo found himself still fretting over the mysterious woman who had wandered into their post, somehow making it past the perimeter guards. The others, his friends, didn’t seem to understand why he continued putting so much of his energy into this clearly doomed attempt at saving this woman’s life. He didn’t rightly understand himself. All Oromo knew was that when she had looked across the fire at him he knew it was his goal, no his duty to make sure she would not perish. Perhaps it was a divine message, or perhaps just the fact that she was fully human and while he reveled in his own dwarven heritage, he also spent so much time with the other race in Stonehollow, the humans. There were few enough in the town of Stonehollow who had any human blood, and most of them were family. Whatever the reason, he continued pouring his heart and soul into this woman’s recovery.
----------------
It was finally early spring, and Oromo entered his small house to find the bed empty where the woman had been laying. As the panic started to set in, he heard what seemed a melody from the second room.
“Thank you, kind sir, for all you’ve done. Though never did I suspect I would owe my life to a dwarf,” she said.
"Well, life's full o' 'em little surprises." He replied
She chuckled, and they stood there and stared at each other.
---------
Syndedria, she said her name was. Syndedria
-Ten Years Later-
“She didn’t live through ye’re birth son,” said Thorngar, Carneth’s guardian, “and he didn’t last long after. Thought ye were dead, he did. We all did. Only after he walked out, looking cold as stone, did the midwife find ye whole. We searched and searched for yer father, but never was he found.”
Carneth tried to understand this news. These were his parents? His mother had died with his birth? All his life he has thought he was a dwarf. And here he found out he was half-human. His friends wouldn't look at him the same way, never mind how much he resembled a dwarf. Here, in the dwarven town of Stonehollow, he didn’t belong.
-Nine Years Pass-
Despite the feelings of alienation, Carneth continued on in Stonehollow. After all, where had he to go? And truly, his dwarven heritage sung out to him as well. Still, there were worries. Being half-dwarf, could he only expect a couple hundred years, instead of the usual four? Would he age like a human, instead of a dwarf, and find himself aged and infirm after only a century?
The young lad had grown into a man. Standing at 5'3", he was easily the tallest dwarf of Stonehollow. Yet dwarf he was. Dwarves seemed to think his dwarven half was more important and prominent than his human side. Dwarves are traditionalists, and while the human-dwarf relations in Stonehollow were not strained, it was common that the humans would not even know of some dwarven events and customs. The dwarves treated him like he was a true-blooded (if pretty tall) dwarf and, surprisingly, this didn't stop the humans from treating him like a short man, either.
His hair was long and his beard was growing, for he had joined the Guard, and it had become tradition among the humans to let one's hair grow until they day you retired. (Every dwarf let his beard grow his whole life, regardless of their profession.) Some of the older Guards, many of who had patrolled next to Carneth's father, had long braids down their backs. His own was tied with a leather thong, and touched the bottom of his shoulder-blades.
And there was need of the Guard, for Stonehollow had grown over the years from a large town to a small city. More permanent fortifications were constructed. No longer were they guarded by mere wooden gates, but large stone walls were erected around the entrance to the vale. With these improvements came the necessity of more organization and force.
Carneth had risen quickly through the ranks of the Guard. He was now a Captian, in command of a score of troops, with varying amounts of dwarven heritage. Gone was the feeling of the overwhelming dwarven majority. Instead, Stonehollow now stood with over a third of citizens with primarily human heritage.
--------------------
Carneth ran for all his life. His troops ran behind, in front of, and around him. No Guard of Stonehollow took retreat lightly, yet all were conditioned to be fleet-of-foot and to maximize the number of survivors who escaped a trap or ambush.
This time, it was worse than ever before.
Stonehollow had existed for a long time without much conflict. The Guard was well-trained, but many lacked much actual experience. Unfortunately, trolls had come to Stonehollow, and never is it a good situation to wander into fourscore enemies with only a score of your own.
After running for what seemed like a league, Carneth called for a halt. They had eluded their enemies. Yet before he had even ordered a role-call, he knew they were short of their twenty Guards. Finor and Tinor, the twin point-scouts, were missing. Carneth knew what his orders mandated he should do, and what he needed to do.
“But what do I do?” he asked himself.
“What ye know ye must,” said Thorngar, his second-in-command and most trusted friend.
----------------------
The Council of Elders looked down into his eyes, which stung from the light they had been deprived of for the past few days. The dungeons of Stonehollow were not designed to inspire hope.
“Carneth, son of Oromo and Syndedria, it saddens our hearts to see ye here before us,” said the High Seat behind his hooded cowl. All Carneth could see of the seven dwarves were their grey beards as they shook their heads in disapproval.
The Voice of the Council of Elders, a particularly imposing dwarf with a black beard and bushy eyebrows, voiced the decision of the Council:
“For the blatant disregard of the orders given to ye, ye're stripped of your rank of Captain, and relieved of yer duties in the Guard.”
Carneth lowered his head, a tear streaming down his face. He flinched as they ceremonially cut the hair off his head. Once again, he had lost his place. Once again, he didn’t belong. But the Voice was not done.
“For the choice ye made, which put three deaths on ye're shoulders, including that of Thorngar Ironhammer…” he paused, and Carneth let out a loud sob which all the room heard, which was not the first he had uttered since his return from the ill-fated patrol, “…and Finor and Tinor Strongarm…”
“…ye're banished from Stonehollow,” the Voice finished with little more than a whisper.
-----------------------
“But where do I go?” asked Carneth when he had recovered from his shock. Then he got angry. “I have no other home. Stonehollow is me home!”
“Go East oustsider,” said the High Seat, striking a blow in the face of Carneth’s rage, “go East. For that is the direction yer mother came.” He was not without sympathy, but dwarven law had no less hardness than the well-known dwarven resolve.
“But what lies East?” asked Carneth softly, hopelessly.
"Like ye, that is none of our concern."
