Flashback A Thorn Grows Through the Cracks

[Durvekral Wormwood]

Summer 10th 506AV

"Let's just cut him loose."
The barracks of the Daggerhand Armory rang out in echoes of raucous argument. Rodrin Sarlune a trusted Daggerhand veteran, Teygar the dungeon keeper and Jorin Harlander a representative for the Daggerhand high leadership had gathered in a large, well-lit hall to discuss the Symenestra kid who had simultaneously ushered in a unique opportunity and an irritating pain in the arse.

"And risk letting him run off?" Teygar shouted impatiently. This seemed, to him, a very simple matter. He wasn't quite sure why this had warranted such an involved discussion. "Keep him locked up in the dungeon and we can pull him out whenever we have use of him. Keep him in the dark long enough and he'll relish the opportunity to perform whatever slavish task we invent."

"A child doesn't pack up with strangers and travel half way across Mizahar because he has the world on a string," Sarlune returned. "He's got no home, no where to go, no one to turn to and no way to leave this piss pot of a city." Though his intent burned with malice and venom, his tone was misleadingly mature and reserved. "We'll be able to gain control of him whenever we need him again."

"Still," Teygar persisted. "Why allow him the freedom to leave? You talk about using him like a weapon. When you have a valuable weapon you hang it in a safe spot in the armory, you don't lock it away to be lost in some storage space. We don't need to waste resources in trying to wrangle him back at every moment that we have a need for him."

"Once again, Teygar," Sarlune jeered, "your short sightedness bars you from advancing your status, worth or even a single one of your ideas. I could care less about the Symenestran brat. He's just a tool and yet hear you are trying to feed him. You want to clothe him, to shelter him from the dangers of Sunberth by protecting him within the thick walls your the dungeon. Resources? There are your wasted resources! Do you have disposable money and food, stowed in your prison, that Robern doesn't know about?"

"So proud of yourself, Sarlune. If only Teygar was as careless as yourself. He too, could idly watch as the spider goes straight to the Night Eyes in order to exact some sort of retaliation."

Until this point, Jorin had resigned himself to silence. For the most part, he was just here to monitor the conversation and to make sure that nothing could occur without Robern's knowledge and approval. In his moderation of the dispute, he found an interesting opportunity to play devil's advocate.

"However, Sarlune does make a valuable point, Teygar. It is true that if we keep him in the dungeon, we have full access to him. It could maximize our ability to use him, yes, but it wastes resources on an untested child. We'll let him loose. You're rightfully hesitant to allow him the potential to disavow himself of us. We do need to make him desperate. We truly will make him beg for our attention. We need to force him to be unconditionally loyal to us. We'll force him to create, in himself, a skill that we can utilize."

Sarlune started to grow concerned at all of this talk. He started to fear that Jorin meant to train the kid. It almost began to sound as if Jorin wanted to raise the spider up as some sort of full fledged Daggerhand recruit. Sarlune was very well appeased when Jorin's talk took a sharp twist.

"Will our purpose be well served by feeding and sheltering him under the mansion? Or will it be better served by setting him on his own? We don't have to lift a finger to help the boy. Think about it, Teygar, he's penniless and alone in Sunberth. He'll have no freedom out there. We'll cast him off on his own.

It will be a test. We are going to keep an eye on him but not to provide even the smallest amount of aid. We'll watch him. If he goes to our enemies we'll kill him immediately. If he can't handle the streets of Sunberth, we'll watch as the city tears him apart and we'll have wasted few, if any, resources. If he finds his way, however, then perhaps this kid may be of value to us. Let the helpless puppy go loose. If he grows into a predator then we'll pull him back and refine the killer in him."

[Durvekral Wormwood]

Summer 11th 506AV
In two days, Durvekral had gone from fearing for his life to being told he would be killed to being told that he would be enlisted into work. Now they were just kicking him out. He didn't understand why they were letting him leave the property but he didn't care.

He knew, at least a little more about Sunberth this time around. Obviously, he had learned, on his own, just how cold these people could be. However, the Daggerhand organization sent him off with just a few other nuggets of information. Lessons that would ensure that the entire experiment couldn't result in immediate failure. They made sure he understood exactly what would happen to him if he was unfortunate enough to wander into Stumble Alley.

And with a map and that minuscule bit of warning, Durvekral was off. He was back on the streets of Sunberth. Obviously the boy was overjoyed to have escaped the Rotting Mansion with his life. Still, he could only be so happy at the prospect of being back in this city again.

Above all of the Sym's sensations, one called out more powerfully than the rest. Above the fear, above the loneliness, above the frustration and the dull pain was hunger. Even before finding a place to live, Durvekral had to secure some food. The kid hadn't eaten in almost two days now! To make matters worse, Durvekral had no idea how he was going to solve this problem. He had no money whatsoever.

His first thought was to turn to cheap labor. He made his way to the Seaside Market. The open city square was just as busy as it had been when he saw this place with naive, fresh eyes. He was more prepared now. He knew to stay out of everyone's way and to keep his eyes focused on the right sights.

Most importantly, Durvekral just looked less bewildered. Sure, he was still a kid in a big city but he had a better understanding of how life worked in Sunberth. Durvekral knew that everyone in Mizahar was out for their own good. But where Kalinor was filled with cowards too timid to live in anarchy, Sunberth seemed to be full of cut-throat strangers who knew how to really play the game of life. Durvekral may not yet have been ready to handle the reality of that but at least he was mentally prepared for it. His childhood in Kalinor had prepared him for a world where no one cared if he was alive or dead. Sunberth's was an environment in which he could imagine developing his skills and his knowledge.

He looked around at the vendors in the marketplace. There was an abundance of luxury and leisure related business. A few small displays with various shiny goods. Jewelry, trinkets and fine, ornate wares. A large number of exotic boutiques, with their intricately designed clothing patterns, lined the marketplace as well. Every now and then, though, Durvekral caught site of a food vendor or perhaps a small grocer.

He was not looking to clothe himself or to purchase a fine pocket-watch. Durvekral sought out an opportunity to provide hard labor. He wanted to work for food. His search was rewarded when he witnessed a farmer's cart pulling a shipment of food toward the back of a larger food merchant.

While the vendor paid the farmer for his services, Durvekral ran up to approach them.

"Sir!" Durvekral shouted. "Sir, can I please unload your shipment and stock your shelves? It would allow you to continue selling your vegetables and I only ask for a fair amount of food as payment."

The thin, dark haired man looked Durvekral up and down. The rough, gritty skin of his face made the stare uncharacteristically intimidating for such a scrawny looking merchant. "Shyke..." he deadpanned. "One of the spider people? Looks like some of the riff-raff must have wandered over from Tent City,"

Durvekral didn't respond. He didn't need for the human to respect him, only to feed him. He "bit his tongue" and simply stared upward at the man.

"Yeah, sure, whatever." The man finally relented. "You caught me on a busy day, get this crap on the shelves. They're all marked, you can read cantcha?"

He could. He could read Common well enough to match vegetables with a few words scrawled into a basket.

It wasn't exactly back breaking work. For this, Durvekral was quite grateful. In his current state of fatigue and starvation, he was only capable of so much heavy labor.

The farmer came back for two more trips, extending the duration of Durvekral's work to about 4 bells worth. The boy was overjoyed upon finishing the work. Finally! He could eat! He actually managed a strange sort of smile when he reported to the merchant.

"Alright," the man disinterestedly grunted and dug through some crates of fruit. After a few moments he pulled out the softest and most rotten apple in his entire bunch. The apple was unsellable due to how badly it had gone rotten.

"There," he jibed. "For your effort," he almost softly chuckled as he tossed the fruit toward him.

Durvekral's face turned vicious as he stepped to the side, allowing the apple to splatter onto the dirt below the marketplace. "What the Zlynge is this!?" he shouted.

"Aw, quitcher damn bellyachin!" the merchant quickly shot back. "If you wanted a fair wage, that's what the establishment is for. Next time, don't come begging around my petching stand!"

[Durvekral Wormwood]

Durvekral couldn't believe that someone could be this hungry and still be alive. In truth, he had eaten early that morning so he was in no real danger of starvation. Still, night was starting to fall and this was a greater hunger than he had ever experienced. The only thing that distracted him from the growls of his stomach was the encroaching darkness. As the streets of Sunberth grew dimmer and dimmer, Durvekral worried less about his appetite and more about experiencing another night in this motherless city.

Durvekral wasn't quite sure where to go. He was told to stay away from Stumble Alley, he wasn't going to be admitted into of the territory occupied by the Sun's Dawn, he knew better than to return to any of the Daggerhand territory, now that he had been seen with the Daggerhands any notion of Night Eye Tower was out of the question and frankly, Durvekral didn't want to try his hand at the marketplace again. Carefully avoiding the loudest and most active parts of the city, Durvekral naturally made his way to the Tent City.

As the stone buildings started to wind down into Sunberth's border and the paved streets started to crack and fade away into earth, Durvekral picked up a very distinctive smell. Tent City didn't have a particularly repellant smell but it certainly wasn't a pleasant fragrance either. More accurately, this was simply a very strong and a very distinctive smell. It certainly smelled of the unabashed and unrefined smell of haggard, laborious strife. It was the unmistakable odor of a crowded, busy, destitute band of people. More subtle was the distinctively unpleasant smell of refuse and waste which was disposed of "inadequately" at best and never among the worst travelers.

Durvekral became excited in a grim, cynical way. "Excellent, the city beggars can't hurt me!" Inaccurate as the child was, he was at least correct in that they had the least motivation to move against him. The people of Tent City had their own troubles to look after. Even if Durvekral had stood in the middle of the city and shouted insults about malodor and social status, it would be within reason that no one would even pay him a second glance. Most of these people didn't have time for personal disputes and if they did, then by Lhex, they certainly didn't have the energy.

There was, of course, a downside to this communal apathy. Durvekral was not going to get the sympathy or the camaraderie, here in Tent City, that he had expected. He could, and would, go on and on about how he was among them in social status. He could prattle on about how he, too, had no home. He could talk about how he was starving and he didn't know where his next meal was coming from... No one cared. Once again, the people of Tent City had their own troubles to look after. It was a lesson that Durvekral learned quickly.

Durvekral was out of options. There was nothing to do and no where to go. He had no one to turn to and he had no money. He hadn't felt this alone and helpless since his last night with Valen. This was different though. After Valen, he feared that he might not have a future. This was far worse. Durvekral had been confronted with the fact that he didn't have a present. He was going to die in this city of paupers.

All of these thoughts were going through his head as he aimlessly wandered through this bazar of misery and hopelessness. He was growing physically exhausted. Frightened as he was, he just didn't even have the ability to quiver or cry. He wanted to do so. He wanted to water this field with his tears. He wanted to shriek and wail in horror but the energy just wasn't there. Eventually, he came across a tent that looked empty. There were a few bedrolls but no discernible food storage or personal items. It was pretty clear that whoever had occupied this tent was dead or had left it all behind. Durvekral knew better then to move into the heart of the tent. He had seen enough of this place to know that it was likely that the previous occupants had died from infectious disease.

Still, he had to rest and he had to get out of the walking path. He huddled up to one of the stakes which held the tent in place. Here, in the corner of the tent, away from the bedroll he curled his little body on the ground. In exhaustion and near delirium, he wondered how many tents were like this one. How many had been abandoned by the dead owners. He wondered how many people died, each day, in this destitute community. He wondered how many people would join him this night.

[Durvekral Wormwood]

Summer 12th, 506 AV, 6th Bell

Something bad happened shortly after that 6th bell. Durvekral woke up. Dira had chosen not to take him in the night. He was still in Sunberth, still in Tent City. He was still numb with hunger but he was a bit more energized than he had been on the previous night, and so he did what was natural for a distressed child. Durvekral cried, in wailing, gasping sobs he cried as hard as he could. There were plenty of people wandering around but no one stopped to pay any notice to the crying child. The crying reminded him of his episode in the Daggerhand prisons; the recent memory only fueled his acute distress.

Durvekral had been transitioning, back and forth, between weak sobs and piercing shrieks when he managed to catch someone's attention. Two symenestran males approached him. They were boys, just like himself and it was easy to tell that the two strangers were related. In fact, they were twins.

They had matching gold eyes and light grey hair. They were slightly shorter than him and appeared to be a few years younger. Durvekral noticed none of these features; he had given up on the idea of being aware of his surroundings. He could hear their conversation through his sobbing.

"Hey, its another Symenestra!" The first boy shouted.
"What should we do?" his brother asked.
"Well, I don't think mom and dad would want us to drag another mouth home."
"Look at him, he's a Symenestra and he's in trouble!" replied one of the boys.
"Let's just go find out what mom and dad want to do,"

A few chimes later, a fully grown Symenestran father was carrying Durvekral, now barely conscious from hunger, to his tent. The man didn't bother with introductions or even greetings. Recognizing the state in which he had found Durvekral, he silently provided the child with food.

Durvekral ravenously ate everything that was before, almost even failing to stop and notice whether it was actually food which was about to enter into his mouth. He had never eaten so quickly or so zestfully.

The man before him was thin but he seemed quite tall. Durvekral surmised it might have been a strong jaw and round, focused eyes but there appeared to be real power about this man despite his frail frame.

Once it looked as though the boy might recover and eventually return to his spirits, the man spoke. "My name is Geradine Greenbrook," the man smiled. "It's nice to see another Symenestra. We haven't seen anyone since Kalinor."

"Kalinor?" Durvekral returned. "Did you come from the Caravan?"

"I can only assume that you're referring to some recent traveling party. We came from a caravan but that was almost a year ago, now."

"Well, its certainly pleasant to see some more familiar types in this sea of dirty humanity," the boy responded.

"And what is your name, by the way? He finally asked. "There is no way that I could allow you to be back on your own again, helpless in an abandoned tent. Since you'll be staying with us for a while, we should get to know each other.

"I'm Durvekral," the guest simply returned.

"Well Durvekral, I know that you must be exhausted from the last few days. I can only imagine what it must have been like to try and wander through this dirty campsite alone. We won't delay your rest any longer, I just want to introduce you to the Greenbrook family. This is my wife, Renalene and then my two sons Ladril and Nevolin." Durvekral now noticed that the two were not full blooded Symenestran children. Clearly, Geradine had sired with some human female. The boys almost looked like very pale, lanky versions of humans. As for Renalene, her face looked aged, far beyond her years. Her hands and musculature didn't match. It didn't look as though she performed hard, daily labor. She was worried about something. Durvekral surmised that there was nothing suspicious about a great deal of anxiety in a place like Tent City.

In response to the introductions, Durvekral feigned some interest and offered a lazy wave. After that, he was shown where he could lay his head and he immediately drifted to sleep, having finally been fed.

[Durvekral Wormwood]

Summer 19th 506AV

Durvekral had lived with the Greenbrooks for a week. He had nearly recovered from his close brush with starvation. He, along with Nevolin and Ladril, rested today. They laid on the bedrolls in the large tent. It was a hot day, too hot to be out in the sun and certainly too hot to be running around. Geradine and Renalene both worked; the two boys were rightly trusted to look after themselves.

Durvekral had noticed that Geradine worked as a farmhand for one of the farmers in the region. He wasn't sure what Renalene did all day but she traveled into the city, itself. Judging by the clothing she returned in, Durvekral assumed that she worked some custodial job in the marketplace.

He took a moment to look around at his dull surroundings. The Symenestra knew that he wanted to move on but he didn't have a plan. He still hadn't figured out where to go so for now, he was stuck in the tent. There wasn't much inside, a few bedrolls, a place to sit, some food storage. In the corner of the tent laid a straw rug. The rug was in the same area where the family ate so it didn't look very odd. Durvekral, however, knew that a lockbox was buried underneath.

Once or twice, he had seen Geradine open it up and put a few mizas inside. Renalene gave him her wages, as well. Clearly the box represented their "savings." From his week of observation, Durvekral couldn't quite discern Geradine's plan for the family. The boy assumed that it must have had something to do with working hard and saving money; unfortunately, it was easy to tell that Geradine and his wife were barely staying in place, let alone moving upward.

Durvekral's silent musings were disrupted, along with those of the two half-bred children. Three human voices rang out from a few feet away. They came from a tent pitched a few feet away and they weren't the noises that Durvekral was used to hearing. They certainly weren't as civil as those voices.

At this time of day, there was very little variation in the sorts of people who roamed Tent City. There were those who were too old or to sick to work, there were children who tended to the their family's makeshift home and then there were those who collected their money from their more reputable neighbors.

"Durvekral," Ladril whispered in hurried tones. "Let's go, they're here a lot; its well hidden, and they ain't clever." Typically, the two boys left the tent unoccupied when the thugs came around. Their tent, with its lack of obvious valuables, wasn't enough to draw their attention. There were plenty of inexperienced travelers, in Tent City, to strand. The thugs had no need to dig through someone's bedroll.

Durvekral hesitated. "What are you waiting for!" Nevolin worriedly whispered. It was took late, the voices were just outside the tent now. Just in time, Durvekral tucked under one side of the tent while Ladril ducked under the other. Nevolin, however, was left standing right in the middle of the tent.

The voices belonged to three sweaty, dusty, grimy looking humans. Criminals this poorly dressed and poorly groomed were not affiliated. This, clearly, was just a small ring of thieves. "What's this?" one of them grinned. "I was starting to think that this place was abandoned."

Another one quickly chimed in. "Turns out, there's some value to be had here, after all. It's not going to be a whole day's earnings but you'll be worth a miza or two at the slave market."

Upon hearing this, Durvekral jumped out from his hiding spot. Nevolin had assumed that the two boys had run far off by now; he was intensely relieved to find that Durvekral was still around.

"Wait," Durvekral shouted. "Take me instead. I know that my pure, Symenestran bones are ill suited for hard labor but I'm worth more to you as a hostage than he is as a slave."

Ladril had kept his post on the other side of the tent. "Thank you," he whispered. "I'll find a way to free you."

The first criminal spoke up again. "He's right, mommy and daddy will pay plenty for their full-blooded brat," the human assumed. "Alright, let's go kid!" he grabbed Durvekral's shoulder in a way that was particularly rough for the thin framed Symenestran.

Durvekral was having fun with this, now. It seemed to be the case that he could toy with these humans quite easily if he had any desire to do so. For the moment, he had no need. They were his escape.

"Wait!" he yelled. The four other occupants of the tent looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to finish. At that moment, Durvekral grinned in a particularly indulgent expression. "You're missing something..."

"What are you getting at?" the first thief gruffly demanded.

"I've been here for a week, I've observed my surroundings and I've identified the vulnerabilities here. You are a bunch of thieves, its exactly the kind of personality you need in a thieves ring."

"Petch, kid, this isn't a daycare!" the man yelled back.

Durvekral proceeded to tell them about the lockbox and exactly where it was hidden.

"Durvekral?" Ladril whispered again, this time in a far different tone then he had previously done. Nevolin's face bore the same shock and concern that was present in Ladril's voice.

"Wait, you don't care about your family at all, do you?" The first man laughed. "Ar'you being real with us?"

"I like this kid," the second human laughed as he hoisted up the iron box full of gold.

"Alright, we'll take you with us, but if I get the whim, I'm just going to sell you right off at the market. Don't think you're going to the clubhouse, junior..." He warned. While the third, silent thug hoisted Durvekral upward the second roughly secured Nevolin.

"Hey, your two pals there have seen us. I don't need a band of angry, poor, petchers recognizing us for kidnappers. I hate to say it, but I think your two pals are gonna have to come with us," he laughed, once again quite darkly.

"I don't care what you do with them," Durvekral flatly replied.

The coldness of his comment stopped the thug's laughter. In fact, it just may have been the thing that prevented Durvekral's appearance at the slave market. "You just might get along with us after all, you cold hearted petcher you," he said, continuing his laugh.

[Orion Michaels]

Grade on Hold Hey, Durvekral, before I can grade this thread for you I'll need you to update your ledger to reflect seasonal expenses. When this is done, PM me and I'll get you your grade. Also, when posting a grade if you could make sure it links to the first post in the thread it would be appreciated. Thanks!