Andre Woodsinger
What can I say about myself?
Actually, I can say a lot. That is one thing about being a man of words, we usually have no trouble talking.
I was born a long time ago, for I am very old. I have seen many wondrous things and have seen many horrendous things also; joys and tragedies, things of beauty and things of horror.
My name is Andre Woodsinger. I was born in the 15th year of the reign of the 42nd Overlord. I told you I was old. I was the middle born of triplets. I have two brothers, named Denear and Regis. Our mother was an elf who was raped by a human. He took his pleasure with her and then had the audacity to be killed by our uncle defending our mothers honor.
Being outcast, neither accepted by the elven nor the humans we were sold to a tribe of wandering troubadours.
Denear, Regis and I were raised to be part of the show! Oh, did I say the show? I meant to say the stage. We did the most menial jobs. We cleaned, we packed, we lugged, we washed, we did everything and anything that someone else did not want to do. Nothing was to low for us to do.
Except be seen in public! If we were seen, we could be sure we would receive a good beating that night.
And so we spent our youth. Being half elven, we grew slowly. We were always on the smaller side, tall and thin, but we were stronger that our fragile frames would appear.
I had hair the color of our father; black. I also had his eyes. Of the three of us, I looked the most human. Denear and Regis had the graceful features of our mother and very light colored hair and skin. I had the blocky hard lines of the humans and was darker of complexion.
Our troupe traveled through the human villages and cites of all the Baronies in the Southern Holds. We never stopped at any elven holdings. So, we did not gain any insight into out elven heritage, only the darker side of the humans.
I learned how to steal, to pick the pockets of the humans in the streets. Regis would never come along with me while I worked the crowds. He was a little too uppity for it.
I learned how to detect who would be a good mark, who had the fattest purse and who to leave alone. I also learned how to be part time roof top procurer of marketable goods. In some of the larger cities you can go just about anywhere you want without ever touching a street. You can take to the roof tops.
When I was 23 I found a wolfing pup whose mother had been killed by a hunter. The pup was near death so I took it back to the troupe to raise. I was told I could not raise a wild wolf, because it would turn against me. I named him Silent, because when he moved he did not make a sound. He was as silent as a feather floating on a breeze.
From the first moment, Silent and I seemed to form a bond between us. He would always know where I was and would obey me without me having to even speak a command. If I wanted Silent to lay down and wait, he would do it. If I wanted him to hide, he would hide. If I wanted him to attack, he would launch himself at the target.
Silent grew to be a large wolf, broad across the chest and shoulders and firm flanks. The others of the troupe were afraid of him, but not to the point of taking action. He never growled at a single troupe member. But let someone he did not know try to sneak into camp and he would be on them in a flash, without a warning.
Once one of the troupe’s whores was having a little trouble with one of her marks. The mark was refusing to pay her for her services. With out so much as a Hi-de-ho, Silent slipped into her tent and lay down on her pallet. He turned his red eyes towards the mark and put his head upon his paws and watched him. The mark quickly gave the whore her money and ran from the tent. Silent chuffed at the whore, as if he were saying your welcome and slipped out of the tent.
Later -
My Life as an Adventurer
After I left my two brothers to fend for themselves, I found myself on board a ship headed for distant shores.
I worked my way around the world as a deck hand. Most ships were just costal vessels, sailing along the shore line but never setting out to the deep seas. They carried cargo from port to port up and down the coast.
The bigger ocean going ships would only make port in the larger ports. Their draft was too great to attempt a coastal landing unless the harbor or bay where they were attempting to anchor in was deep. They ran the risk of bottoming. If they were to bottom out,, they may never be able to clear the hull and return to the sea. Legends of ships that had bottomed out and then been destroyed by storms passes from crew to crew.
So, I found myself a member of the crew of “Phenous’s Bones”. She weren’t no pirate ship, argh, but she were a cargo ship. And a mighty ship she were too. The captains name was “Alynette Locran”. He was a fair man. If you worked, you could remain aboard. If you lollygaged, you got tossed overboard.
I sailed aboard the Phenous for 3 years. I saw a bit of this big world, mostly through the drunken stupor of liberty call. When ever we made port of call, I and the rest of the crew would quickly drink our earnings. What good is money when you’re at sea? Live while you can, drink as much as you can for you never know when a storm might blow you overboard.
We made port in Atland, Katai, and even stopped in the wild lands of Tush. We sailed around both North Point and the Southern Reaches. We crossed the hot equatorial line of fire and sailed close to the sea of ice.
It was a time I would not trade for anything. It was hard work, but it was worth every minute now that I look back on it in hind sight. Of course, at the time I wished I was anywhere but where I was. But what you going to do with a drunken, bitching sailor? The old saying is true. The only happy sailor is a bitching sailor. When the crew grows quiet, that when you know there’s trouble on the way.
