How to best start a tale, hm, ah yes, once upon a time...

People tell of all their adventures when they come through our town. Places they have seen, creatures they defeated and treasures they have uncovered. When you are a child those tales and songs make you want to experience all this as well. Why would you want to sit at home, help on your father’s farm or carry about your mother’s laundry to clean it down in the cold river? And for what in the end, to marry a local boy and relive your parent’s boring lives all over again? I can tell you now, think again. Often they say the grass is always greener, but sometimes, they are right…

I was only fourteen when I stole my father’s cloak and his old fishing knife. I thought I was so smart back then. It was late in the evening and the merchants in Bree Town were packing up. The spring market was over. I picked one of their wagons, I was small and no one would ever notice me, and by the time they did, I’d be far away from here.

I had not really thought this through any more then any fourteen year old adventure hungry child would. The wagon was set in motion, a few horses were tied to it’s back, all very healthy beasts. The caravan was that of a horse trader, little did I know how long and dangerous my journey was going to be from now…

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A year had passed and I’d found myself paying dearly for my free voyage. I worked harder and longer hours then I could ever had imagined and there was no time left for any adventures, let alone even the thoughts of them. After so many times being beaten for day dreaming you stop dreaming and get on with what you must. So I spent my days scrubbing floors, emptying dirty stalls, clearing and cleaning dishes, trying to get caught stealing left-over’s and avoiding wicked men in the Whitesteed Homestead.

The lord of the homestead was a grey haired pale man, he was tall and even tough you would think him of age, it seems his hair just turned silver too early. I would have thought him to be about his late thirties at the time, but then a child’s eyes can be tricky. The lady of House Whitesteed had passed away, rumours say when she bore her second child, a daughter. Her son and the lords heir was no more. He was an eager fighter already at a young age and passed in some unfortunate attack. No one dared to speak of it much, for the sake of keeping their tongue, or worse, their head.

The Hall and its surrounding wooden buildings nestled in the Eastfold, about a half days ride from the Great West Road, at a careful pace. The surrounding land was rich in farming and good steeds were bred. Yes the land and the lord could never be rich enough…

Lord Feodric Whitesteed was neither a man of mercy nor kindness, something I found out far too soon. His focus was power and more riches, at any price. He would sell out his own child to achieve this, in fact he did, but that, well is another story, this one, sadly, was about me.

With the months passing I grew from child to young woman and with it life became harder on the home stead. Kitchen duties and stable clearing was no longer the only thing expected of me, but I would not endure any of this filth for long. I always adapted to my situations and I did so now. I learned to fight and to defend myself. And I was a fast learner some said. So fast, that in the end Feodric saw a different potential in me then a plaything for the guards and a kitchen maid. After one more unfortunate demise of one of his guardsmen I found myself hit over the head and dragged away for a private audience with the lord. I did not think I would see daylight again. I had been found out, and now I would pay for it. Strangely I felt no fear, I almost felt relief. But it was not going to be that easy. Instead I lost my old shackles to a set of new ones. All be it these were much more comfortable…

I was seventeen when I killed my fifteenth man in the name of his lordship. And after the guard that faithful night almost a year ago, I was never caught again. This did not go unnoticed either and suddenly I found myself rewarded for my deeds. I was paid for what I did and for the first time since I came here I could feel myself smiling, well it may have been more of a smirk maybe.

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Two more years had passed since then and many more bodies vanished. Maybe I should be ashamed or feel for them, but I did not, nor do I today. This is when I learned that one of Feodric’s prized possessions had disappeared, his daughter, now fifteen, teenagers eh, had fled when she learned the lord had found her a suitable husband. She had packed up stole from the armoury, what girl would do such a thing, and went on her way. Only the lucky girl had a horse and a companion with her.

We set out to follow her as soon as we could but her tracks led to nowhere. Frustrating as it was her companion knew his way around the wilderness and the roads became less and less passable. They had managed, we had to give up, for now. Even her father had other things to worry over, worse things than a missing daughters were upon us now.

Our struggles to keep Eastfold safe continued and the months and years passed us by. Many were lost during these times, but the arrangement Feodric had made still held his promise and with the aid of Ruadric and his men we fought on and in the end things slowed down and focus shifted when Ruadric suddenly remembered what he was promised for his aid. Where was the fair maiden daughter? And why had no one thought to pursue her? As a matter of fact many had, and did not return, nor did we have any news of her whereabouts, until recently. Ah yes and that is why I came here… to bring her back.

You think after all those years of cold-blooded murder I could, and wouldn’t hesitate to drag a woman back to her cruel heartless father would you? Well you were mistaken. I failed, miserable! So badly I lost myself for days! And why? Because her stupid companion is such a good man. Yes because of a man, is that so very unusual? Yes of course I am angry! I don’t fail like this, mercy and pity for someone. I never had those feelings, or obstacles should I say. I could not even tell you where all that came from.

I don’t feel for that man in that way no, don’t even think it, but he was so kind to me when he should have slid my throat. I still don’t know why he did not. Well, not like you will ever find out now, because you’re time is now, and I rambled quite enough at you haven’t I? Don’t look so scared, you won’t even feel it, I promise you that. Let you go? What with all this you know? Don’t make me laugh. You should have known this was the end when you started listening. Look at least you are free now; I still have five years…

*The woman wipes the blood from her knife and leaves not looking back*