SMACK! My eye was pretty much closed now, the shot had partially blinded my good eye with stars. I was dazed and woozy, my attackers (one of several, four boys as best I can recall) were all chanting and cheering now. That's the most scary thing about a group beating, how it escalates and encourages others in the group to do more to gain acceptance. I can't even recall now what had started this fight, too much mouth on my part? A percieved slight when one of them had asked me a question? I can't recall (time and the fact it was a vicious beating), I do remember I hurt for a couple days after and Grengor never asked about the bruises, cuts, or general dishelvelment I had. That should have been my first indication that Grengor was not much of a hero, let alone teacher. The only thing I remember him telling me when he swung by clearly hung over after I'd been beaten again, was "Need to learn to fight if you want to live around here." And then he wandered off to hit on some dirty woman in the street. Needless to say my days in Regor made me regret my childlike wonderment for being someplace new. I do give myself credit, I never went to my magic. I don't know if it was fear of getting caught, or fear of having to murder my attackers because a non fatal blow would just enrage them more, all the same when we left four days after we had arrived I felt a lot better. Grengor apparently had picked up a job in town, and was setting out with me to get it done.
"You know what I do for a living boy?" Everyone called me boy when I was younger, I purposefully avoid its usage for that very reason now.
"You're a hunter sir."
"That's right." Hunters back then are not the small game trappers of today, but instead Monster Hunting was the ruffian layabout work of choice. It's sadly a lost art nowadays (though after the war its making a comeback due to a lot of nasties that were unearthed by reckless magical users intent on keeping their power). Back then an accomplished hunter made good coin keeping local peoples from becoming some beasts snack. Most of the creatures were minor annoyances hunted mainly for their hides or other valuable materials, some of them were beyond the pale terrors though. The first use of black powder weapony was to drive off these insane monstrosities (initially ships were equipped with cannons to deal with the monsters, of course that last like five seconds before they started using them on other ships, but we are talking about initially!) Most of the really big creatures required one of the guilds, of which there were several (I've heard they still exist if only to pay homage to their roots but professional monster hunting really died off about a hundred years ago). Grengor wasn't a member of a guild (I don't think he could even spell the word), he was a free lance moron who hunted things slightly more dangerous then a wolf. I mean they could very easily kill me a a small boy, but a man in full armor with weapons? A simple matter of setting a trap and spearing the beast it caught.
My first job with Grengor was of that type, some snake like beast that had eaten someones something or other (could have been a child it was big enough, but Regor was not without a population of useless layabout children so overall not a big loss). We were out in the wild for a couple of days before we came across it (or something that looked enough like it that Grengor could sell the corpse), his strategy (and I use that term very loosely) involved me standing out in the open looking lost and very afraid while he waited nearby to strike the beast down. Now this was a great strat for Grengor, but sucked just a little bit for a very young Trezlan standing out in the middle of a field wondering if the snake creature approaching me was about to have a big damn dinner (obviously it didn't as so far no one writes things post death, that I'm aware of, got to keep these things open). It was a two headed beasty, with a vicious tail spike in the rare that it held aloft preparing to strike (I later learned this type uses a paralytic venom). I screamed help, hoping to wake up Grengor in case he fell asleep when he emerged from the shadows and slayed the beast with a simple chop of one of his swords, the tail fell to the ground and he stood their victorious.
"Help? Boy you need to learn to hold your tongue." Grengor showing his normal care.
"I was worried."
"You've got more to worry about from me, then this, now get my knives." He shook one of the disembodied heads at me to indicate the urgency of the matter. I retrieved his items as per his instruction and he began the process of cleaning the beast and leaving its guts to rot. And so things went with me and Grengor for around five years. He was based out of Regor sadly, which meant I spent five years of my existence in a jerkwater town full of miscreants and the cast offs of incestual birth (not a judgement, you'd see fathers sizing up their more bucksome daughters in the open street). I got into more fights, and lost more fights, all the time I had new bruises or marks that Grengor would laugh off and tell me where we were headed that day. We never went far, never did anything too exciting, I got good at waiting around in crappy weather and sewing. Oh yes the sewing, Grengor was a cheap old miser bastard who felt that (much like my father) I had to make my own way, my "clothing" consisted of whatever wouldn't sell from whatever he killed hastily stitched together with a dull needle and crappy thread. Needless to say my first kills were my damn fingers (it's amazing how a dull needle can still poke and cause you to bleed). I'm sure back then I probably looked more monster than boy.
I was a young man when the incident happened, the one that would start me on a path to being who I am today. And tomorrow I shall recount that tale! I'd do it today, but I've actually got work later, I know little journal, its amazing I actually do stuff outside of write my grandiose adventures in you!
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