Veska
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Log In : KingCreeper
Character : Veska Aers
She once had a beautiful voice. Veska… now broken to a mere whisper. Now is the story to tell you why.
Veska grew up comfortably, her childhood spent doing childish things. She had no brothers or sisters, and she had loving parents. Her father, a respected healer in the community - and her mother, well she was just a housewife, but she was popular and will always be remembered for her wisdom and kindness, the woman had a saying for everything!
It just happened that around her fourteenth birthday a group of gypsies had started camping not far from the town. Veska was enchanted by these people, so free - so joyful, she thought. She would visit them often and listen to their great stories, and drink their wine when it was offered - though just a girl. She even fell in love instantly, with their leader. The man had a fiddle, and he'd play the most energetic music, such a handsome smile. Even his voice would make her toes curl, though he was much older than she.
What was she to do? ... She ran away with the gypsy king. It was overnight, the camp packed up and left, leaving behind nothing but mess and memories. She never saw her parents again.
Life as a gypsy girl was hard, still only fourteen she became a wife. She loved her man but he became much different afterwards. He seemed older, more boring. Her heart began to sink daily for years until by chance, her husband fell from his horse and broke his neck. He died, and Veska - although thinking much less of him, still wept.
She ran again. She was getting used to the running. She was getting used to forcing everything behind her and shirking responsability.
She was seventeen when she left those gypsies, she was still seventeen when she fell into her next group. Bandits, some tens of them all lead by one Half-Orc. It's hard to say what pressed her into working for them, she made a lot of gold. It was a lot more fun than her aged gypsy husband.
But she wanted more. She went about, sneaking, silent. She was getting good, and she thought that she just might be able to take anything she wanted. So she tried. She entered the Half-Orc's tent, and with a small smirk - her hand dipped into the pocket of his cloak, which was hung up on a hook, the Half-Orc was asleep... so she thought. She felt around, pocketing gems and coins for herself. She stopped taking her time and became unaware chasing wealth. When there was nothing in his pockets she moved to his footlocker, a large wooden chest at the foot of his bed. It opened with a creak but that didn't bother her, her bright amber eyes were all lit up by gold - she'd struck it rich! Thud... her eyes went dark, she fell to the floor...
She woke stripped naked, to the calls and jeers, yelling from all her 'comrades' "Hang her!" they cried. They wanted justice, after all there is honour among thieves - and Veska had gone against that and stolen from her 'betters'. She was panicked, she tried to turn and run but felt her feet stumble on a block, she tried to move her hands infront of her to catch herself but they were bound behind her back. It was terrifying for her, as she wobbled and toppled she felt a tightness about her neck. She'd woken at the gallows in a noose, and in her haste sealed her death. Her small feet kicked, the block clattered as it rolled on the wooden platform. This is where she would suffocate, there was no chance of a broken neck here.
Tears rolled down her cheeks, she tried to yell out but couldn't. Her feet couldn't reach the ground but desperately she tried to - hope was lost. Something happened, how could she be kneeling now? She groped at the wooden platform which she'd been hanged above. It was all too much, she blacked out.
She woke up wrapped in a soldier's cloak. They believed she'd been the prisoner of the bandits, and told her that they'd slain the villains --- her comrades ---, and that she was lucky they arrived when they did. In a way she was, but none of this was meant to happen.
The soldiers fed and clothed her, gave her what she claimed to be hers from the bandits. A few coins, nothing worth much... and once again she ran. Since being hanged, her voice has never recovered. The mark of the rope remains round her neck even though she's now twenty-three.
Perhaps she'll stay in Narfell. Perhaps it's time to stop running...
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Thank you for editing your post, KC!
Reviewd, XP Pending.
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Im going to need you Login and your PCs full name, please.
