Griogair (KingCreeper)
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Another son of the Sea, Griogair of Impiltur. What stories can the wanderer tell? He only knows one…
Griogair was not an only child. He had a little brother, Yrrolgair. Yrrolgair was only eight, and Griogair was eleven. The youngest caught the Fever during one particularly harsh winter. One night as the moon rose high, the child Yrrolgair lay in his bed and Griogair was sat by his side upon a wooden stool of simple design, which had only three legs. "Griogair" said the child, "tell me a story." And so replied Griogair "I know no stories, little brother. Sleep and rest, maybe you will dream a story for yourself." and so he did. He died that night, Yrrolgair. By the morning Griogair, just a boy who's days were spent gathering sticks for the fire and being a dutiful son to his mother, had sworn his oath in tears. He would find a story for little Yrrolgair.
He was too young then, of course, to follow his dream. So worked he, through this trade and that after his mother died, it was probably just her time - but people whispered of a broken heart. Apprenticed, and apprenticed again. It was shortly after he inherited small workhouse from the man who'd been teaching him metallurgy - that he realised that he was becoming old. His hands were not the young-lad's hands he remembered, could his voice be the same that said those words to Yrrolgair? And what of his oath! As one memory lead to another - Griogair realised it was now his time to become the story that would be attributed to the little brother he remembered. The stories of glorious tall-ships that the child liked, Griogair would take up a sword and a shield - and a map - and live his life in excitement and adventure, for his dear brother.
So now it is that he cannot tell what has become of the little workhouse, nor can he rightly remember the name of the Master Metallurgist who taught him - only that he was always warned by the man, against beards in the trade. Experienced, accustomed to all manner of works typical of an adventurer. He's also picked up many experiences from the glorious path he's chosen - marks of battle, a heavy purse. Even a friend or two. But knowing the workings of such things, he knows that his sailing to distant lands and enlisting as a soldier that will be the right thing - the forging of a worthy story.
Well, it turned out that Griogair's story wasn't so worthy after all. He fought damn hard as any other would have, but where was the glory and the praise? He'd managed to put away a little money by now, and had served with Valmar (Daedelus) for some time. Even when politics seen the foreign lad Griogair mistreated he always felt he had a place with Valmar. And so it is with him that Griogair comes to Narfell --- perhaps there's a chance for a story after all!
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reviewed, xp pending
