Part III: Bone
One would think that running from an angry mob in the middle of the night, being by yourself in a dangerous forest, and having the barest to survive is bad enough for a five year old... it got worse.
If it was its natural time to appear or the adrenaline induced fight or flight response that I had coursing through my veins I will never be sure. But what I was sure was of the fact that it felt like my fore arms were burning with a fiery cold. It coursed from my fingertips to my elbows, the pain always escalating towards my elbows and along my outer arms. For three days I traveled in agony, feeling like my arms were broken, bruised, and on fire. I could barely do anything but walk and nibble on what small food I had. On the fourth day the pain ebbed significantly, but I was still to afraid to touch them as last time I did I fell crying for a few hours.
I had no training on living off the land except for the very few plants I knew to be edible as I had stolen them from my mothers garden from time to time. So it would come to no surprise that I was easily found and ambushed these rough, gray, lanky creatures that came up to my hip in height. They had large heads, beady red eyes and a large mouth full of needle sharp teeth. With a little effort I could bat them away with a few kicks and punches, but I was getting fatigued quickly. Running seemed to be my only viable option, and I got a whole ten feet before I was grappled buy five feet of ugly. It looked to be a larger, uglier, smellier version of the the small ones. Hobgoblin I would learn was the word I was searching for. It was all my small young body could take before I feinted of exhaustion and fatigue.
When I woke up I wasn't tied up, but I was in what appeared to be a small cave. There was one low torch burning, but I was not hindered by lack of light. Two of the larger hobgoblins were standing gaurd at the mouth of the cave. One of them noticed my awaking and called out something in strange tongue. A
Another goblin appeared. One could tell almost instantly that he wasn't quite like the other goblins from earlier. He was slightly taller but seemed even thinner. More clothing covered his person and he wore what looked to be a beat up old golden ring as a bracelet around his right hand. He grinned at me.
Being a child and put into such situations, the mind acted odd, because I thought I could get away from this short little creature. Nothing was further from the truth. I tried to run past him, but somehow he got directly in front of me and toppled me over like a sack of potatoes. I tried three more times to get away, the last time earning me a pretty good beat down from the hobgoblins. But I must have impressed him somehow because I didn't end up dead or food. When the first beating was over he sauntered up to my prone form, I coughed up blood at his feet. He jabbed one of his thin fingers at his chest and said the word "Makdin" and with that he walked away, knowing I was not going anywhere.
It was with these creatures that I spent the next five years of my childhood, if you could call it that really. The first two years I spent mostly as a slave, cleaning, preparing meals, doing whatever was they pleased including setting myself as bait to travelers concerned by a child on the road, only to be thieved by a horde of goblin awaiting in the thicket of course. I picked up the language fairly quickly as well as how to be light on my feet, in order to keep up with them. It wasn't before to long that they had me starting to steal by myself, so that it didn't require ten or more of them to accomplish such tasks. However they never armed me. It was when they started to have me steal more and more from larger boats that this became a problem, jeering at me that such a clever creature as myself should be able to make do. And make do I did.
I finally found out, in my long hours of solitary confinement between beatings what had truly happened to my arms that fate-ful night. I now sported three distinct ridges along my fore arms. The largest bony knob was directly at the end of my elbows, covered in thick black scales there protruded a very small claw like tip. They mirrored on both arms but to my horror and fascination the one on my right arm could wiggle free. In fact it took many days of both will power and stamina to discover its true secret.
My body naturally made its own dagger. The first time I found out I was almost caught, for the pain it presented in pulling it out was almost to much for me and I almost yelled out. But after a few days of just poking and nudging at the spot I just decided to pull at it and see what happened. I ended up with a dagger looking weapon that was made of bone, sinew, and cartilage. The edge was beautifully sharp and serrated in a few parts, the blade was a bone color with a slight, grisly sheen. The handle turned black half way down and ended in the small point, the part that could be seen and pulled out from the outside. It felt flexible and soft whilst pulling it from my arm, but it seems moments after hitting air, it became as solid as metal. I tried pulling at the other point on my left arm, but to no avail at creating a second blade. I also discovered quickly that this blade didn't last long at all. In fact after a day it almost starts to.. decay. To become fragile and brittle shattering at any pressure. But before the time period is up, it is a serviceable dagger.
And so I used my natural weapon often in my exploits of cutting away boats or precious cargo to be lugged back to camp. I have thought, oh so many times have I thought, of sinking this blade into the back of Makdin's skull and escaping these dirty, vile things. But I knew.. of to many attempts and beatings, I would not escape on my own.
The keys to my cell were found in the most unexpected way my tenth year.
If it was its natural time to appear or the adrenaline induced fight or flight response that I had coursing through my veins I will never be sure. But what I was sure was of the fact that it felt like my fore arms were burning with a fiery cold. It coursed from my fingertips to my elbows, the pain always escalating towards my elbows and along my outer arms. For three days I traveled in agony, feeling like my arms were broken, bruised, and on fire. I could barely do anything but walk and nibble on what small food I had. On the fourth day the pain ebbed significantly, but I was still to afraid to touch them as last time I did I fell crying for a few hours.
I had no training on living off the land except for the very few plants I knew to be edible as I had stolen them from my mothers garden from time to time. So it would come to no surprise that I was easily found and ambushed these rough, gray, lanky creatures that came up to my hip in height. They had large heads, beady red eyes and a large mouth full of needle sharp teeth. With a little effort I could bat them away with a few kicks and punches, but I was getting fatigued quickly. Running seemed to be my only viable option, and I got a whole ten feet before I was grappled buy five feet of ugly. It looked to be a larger, uglier, smellier version of the the small ones. Hobgoblin I would learn was the word I was searching for. It was all my small young body could take before I feinted of exhaustion and fatigue.
When I woke up I wasn't tied up, but I was in what appeared to be a small cave. There was one low torch burning, but I was not hindered by lack of light. Two of the larger hobgoblins were standing gaurd at the mouth of the cave. One of them noticed my awaking and called out something in strange tongue. A
Another goblin appeared. One could tell almost instantly that he wasn't quite like the other goblins from earlier. He was slightly taller but seemed even thinner. More clothing covered his person and he wore what looked to be a beat up old golden ring as a bracelet around his right hand. He grinned at me.
Being a child and put into such situations, the mind acted odd, because I thought I could get away from this short little creature. Nothing was further from the truth. I tried to run past him, but somehow he got directly in front of me and toppled me over like a sack of potatoes. I tried three more times to get away, the last time earning me a pretty good beat down from the hobgoblins. But I must have impressed him somehow because I didn't end up dead or food. When the first beating was over he sauntered up to my prone form, I coughed up blood at his feet. He jabbed one of his thin fingers at his chest and said the word "Makdin" and with that he walked away, knowing I was not going anywhere.
It was with these creatures that I spent the next five years of my childhood, if you could call it that really. The first two years I spent mostly as a slave, cleaning, preparing meals, doing whatever was they pleased including setting myself as bait to travelers concerned by a child on the road, only to be thieved by a horde of goblin awaiting in the thicket of course. I picked up the language fairly quickly as well as how to be light on my feet, in order to keep up with them. It wasn't before to long that they had me starting to steal by myself, so that it didn't require ten or more of them to accomplish such tasks. However they never armed me. It was when they started to have me steal more and more from larger boats that this became a problem, jeering at me that such a clever creature as myself should be able to make do. And make do I did.
I finally found out, in my long hours of solitary confinement between beatings what had truly happened to my arms that fate-ful night. I now sported three distinct ridges along my fore arms. The largest bony knob was directly at the end of my elbows, covered in thick black scales there protruded a very small claw like tip. They mirrored on both arms but to my horror and fascination the one on my right arm could wiggle free. In fact it took many days of both will power and stamina to discover its true secret.
My body naturally made its own dagger. The first time I found out I was almost caught, for the pain it presented in pulling it out was almost to much for me and I almost yelled out. But after a few days of just poking and nudging at the spot I just decided to pull at it and see what happened. I ended up with a dagger looking weapon that was made of bone, sinew, and cartilage. The edge was beautifully sharp and serrated in a few parts, the blade was a bone color with a slight, grisly sheen. The handle turned black half way down and ended in the small point, the part that could be seen and pulled out from the outside. It felt flexible and soft whilst pulling it from my arm, but it seems moments after hitting air, it became as solid as metal. I tried pulling at the other point on my left arm, but to no avail at creating a second blade. I also discovered quickly that this blade didn't last long at all. In fact after a day it almost starts to.. decay. To become fragile and brittle shattering at any pressure. But before the time period is up, it is a serviceable dagger.
And so I used my natural weapon often in my exploits of cutting away boats or precious cargo to be lugged back to camp. I have thought, oh so many times have I thought, of sinking this blade into the back of Makdin's skull and escaping these dirty, vile things. But I knew.. of to many attempts and beatings, I would not escape on my own.
The keys to my cell were found in the most unexpected way my tenth year.