Post by wayra on Feb 25, 2009 5:54:15 GMT
Wayra sat down in his rented room, picking up the feathered quill and dipping it into some ink. He thought a moment on what exactly he should say, then shruged, and began to write in a quick, slightly messy, but legible manner.
- Right, then. I can't say I've ever written something like a biography for myself before, didn't really see a reason, being so young, but here goes. My name is Wayra Swiftdraw, and this is my life.
So far, I've lived sixty seasons of my life, and what a long sixty seasons they were. I suppose I should start at the beginning. Long before Tervin even thought of settling in Mossflower, I lived as a toddler in the woods with my mother and father. From what little I remember it was a good time, we were all healthy and well-fed. That didn't last long at all, in the middle of Winter a roving band of thieves and killers invaded my happy life. I can't recall what happened that night, only things I do remember are the cold snow, and my lifeless mother. -
The faded wet spot of a tear is seen at the side of the parchment here.
- My father was nowhere to be seen, but I didn't know that until later. Before long I was heading to the only other place of refuge I knew of, Redwall. We had gone there for a festival or two before, but it was by luck that I ended up at their gates, face down in the snow. I don't know how long I was lying in the bed of their infirmary, but I was definitely surprised to be there when I awoke. I couldn't speak for the first few days I was there, they said it was shock. Apparently, the clothes I was wearing were smeared with soot, and stained with blood. They sent out a tracking party to find out what happened, and only brought my mother's body back. A day or so after they buried her I started talking again. Still being a child the recount of the events that happened was sketchy, but they got the idea. They took me in as one of their own, and I stayed at Redwall for most of my life after that.
I found many friends at Redwall. The Abbess at the time, Abbess Sarah, was a kind woman, me and the other dibbuns always acted like good children around her. Our Friar, David, was a great cook, and a good friend of mine as I grew up. He always let the young ones have a few of the cooling scones and rolls. My best friends however were the travelers that came in. Whether it be a bunch of traders, a troupe of performers, or just a weary wanderer. I always asked them about everything outside of Redwall. They always had a tale to tell, and it was an adventure in of itself. Part of the reason why I took up traveling. A performer once showed me how to live off some of the natural things of the land, useful advice, let me tell you.
I only started wandering some seven seasons ago, it's been quite a journey. I told the Abbess what I wanted to do, and she simply smiled, 'You always were curious,' was what she said to me. Did I forget to mention that she wasn't the talkative type? Anyways, I was given a pack of three-days rations, though it was really four, the way it was stuffed, and I set off with my bow and a quiver of arrows. So far wandering, I've made it to Salamandastron, gone sailing, and been back to Redwall twice, you can't forget where you've come from.
I should also say that I only know my first-name for sure. As for my surname, that's a small story of it's own. Some seasons before I began my traveling, I was competing in one of the fair-day Archery competitions at Redwall. It was my first time I'd ever done anything of the sort at fair-day, a few of my friends talked me into it, and we all competed against eachother. I hit just outside of the middle of the target with all three of my arrows. Better than my two friends, who only got the outside of the target, if the target at all. I won the contest, and for a prize, I was declared Swiftdraw dibbun of the Abbey. I was no dibbun then, but I certainly wasn't the best, of course, there were squirrel archers and otter warriors there that could shoot better than me easily. I practiced from that day on, though, I set myself up a little target and shot in my free time when I wasn't doing chores. Whenever I picked up a bow it felt right to me, it was strange, but I was good at it. By the fair-day before I left the Abbey, I could best the top squirrel archer. Needless to say I was quite proud of myself. Anyways, off of my small achievements, I declared my surname 'Swiftdraw', thanks to that competition.
As for why I'm here now? Well, last I was at Redwall, there happened to be another traveler there, a friendly stoat, who told me about this place. I'd figure since I hadn't been here before, I'd go. Every place has an adventure and story of it's own, and I'm sure Terralux will be no different. -
Wayra finished the writing and leaned back to survey his work. He took a deep breath and sighed. "That was harder than it sounded." There were a few ink blotches up and down the long parchment, as he was used to charcoal sticks, but they didn't cover any of the writing up. At the bottom of the parchment his signature marked the page as his own.
'-S.'
- Right, then. I can't say I've ever written something like a biography for myself before, didn't really see a reason, being so young, but here goes. My name is Wayra Swiftdraw, and this is my life.
So far, I've lived sixty seasons of my life, and what a long sixty seasons they were. I suppose I should start at the beginning. Long before Tervin even thought of settling in Mossflower, I lived as a toddler in the woods with my mother and father. From what little I remember it was a good time, we were all healthy and well-fed. That didn't last long at all, in the middle of Winter a roving band of thieves and killers invaded my happy life. I can't recall what happened that night, only things I do remember are the cold snow, and my lifeless mother. -
The faded wet spot of a tear is seen at the side of the parchment here.
- My father was nowhere to be seen, but I didn't know that until later. Before long I was heading to the only other place of refuge I knew of, Redwall. We had gone there for a festival or two before, but it was by luck that I ended up at their gates, face down in the snow. I don't know how long I was lying in the bed of their infirmary, but I was definitely surprised to be there when I awoke. I couldn't speak for the first few days I was there, they said it was shock. Apparently, the clothes I was wearing were smeared with soot, and stained with blood. They sent out a tracking party to find out what happened, and only brought my mother's body back. A day or so after they buried her I started talking again. Still being a child the recount of the events that happened was sketchy, but they got the idea. They took me in as one of their own, and I stayed at Redwall for most of my life after that.
I found many friends at Redwall. The Abbess at the time, Abbess Sarah, was a kind woman, me and the other dibbuns always acted like good children around her. Our Friar, David, was a great cook, and a good friend of mine as I grew up. He always let the young ones have a few of the cooling scones and rolls. My best friends however were the travelers that came in. Whether it be a bunch of traders, a troupe of performers, or just a weary wanderer. I always asked them about everything outside of Redwall. They always had a tale to tell, and it was an adventure in of itself. Part of the reason why I took up traveling. A performer once showed me how to live off some of the natural things of the land, useful advice, let me tell you.
I only started wandering some seven seasons ago, it's been quite a journey. I told the Abbess what I wanted to do, and she simply smiled, 'You always were curious,' was what she said to me. Did I forget to mention that she wasn't the talkative type? Anyways, I was given a pack of three-days rations, though it was really four, the way it was stuffed, and I set off with my bow and a quiver of arrows. So far wandering, I've made it to Salamandastron, gone sailing, and been back to Redwall twice, you can't forget where you've come from.
I should also say that I only know my first-name for sure. As for my surname, that's a small story of it's own. Some seasons before I began my traveling, I was competing in one of the fair-day Archery competitions at Redwall. It was my first time I'd ever done anything of the sort at fair-day, a few of my friends talked me into it, and we all competed against eachother. I hit just outside of the middle of the target with all three of my arrows. Better than my two friends, who only got the outside of the target, if the target at all. I won the contest, and for a prize, I was declared Swiftdraw dibbun of the Abbey. I was no dibbun then, but I certainly wasn't the best, of course, there were squirrel archers and otter warriors there that could shoot better than me easily. I practiced from that day on, though, I set myself up a little target and shot in my free time when I wasn't doing chores. Whenever I picked up a bow it felt right to me, it was strange, but I was good at it. By the fair-day before I left the Abbey, I could best the top squirrel archer. Needless to say I was quite proud of myself. Anyways, off of my small achievements, I declared my surname 'Swiftdraw', thanks to that competition.
As for why I'm here now? Well, last I was at Redwall, there happened to be another traveler there, a friendly stoat, who told me about this place. I'd figure since I hadn't been here before, I'd go. Every place has an adventure and story of it's own, and I'm sure Terralux will be no different. -
Wayra finished the writing and leaned back to survey his work. He took a deep breath and sighed. "That was harder than it sounded." There were a few ink blotches up and down the long parchment, as he was used to charcoal sticks, but they didn't cover any of the writing up. At the bottom of the parchment his signature marked the page as his own.
'-S.'
