Talgris Caldason

[Wykith]

_Because of the constant Forum shifting and loss of some of my stories because of it, I've decided it's not worth seperating my character's stories into various threads and so am going to bring the whole thing under one big roof. Be warned this was written two years ago and never put through a spellcheck so it runs rampant with typos.

Hope you enjoy my confusion._

_This is the tale of Talgris Caldason, son of Draven, son of Calda. In his fragil youth was brought up with the belief that he was the descendant of the legendary Black Swordsman Gatsu and was named after him. It was not until much later in his life, after uniting with the pixie Pira, that he found out what his true name was, and why he could not remember it. After that event, he took on his true name and has held the burden of that memory.

In truth, he was more of a boredom-induced experiment gone horribly wrong. Who knew I would end up liking this character so much that I would end up playing him despite my better judgement. After weeks of dealing with the "Gatsu incident", I dropped the name and started fresh with an original character concept. It made for a good story though.

Be warned. I tried my best to steer clear of Spoilers but I failed miserably._

Gatsu

"So why has no one heard of him.?" Gatsu asked his father as they walked the plains towards Norwick. The caravan that headed for the town was an array of weathered and tired merchants. They came well stocked to trade in Narfell. A warm meal and a soft bed in the town inn was all that occupied their minds on the last grueling miles of their treacherous journey.

"Many have." His father said. His torn voice was raspy from years of screaming the prices of his wares. "But it is not a tale many would dare to tell."

"Why? Why would someone be scared of a story?" Gatsu questioned. His brow furrowed in thought.

"Because they are afraid he might be listening." His father said. "They fear his wrath, for his kind never truly die."

"Who?!" Gatsu exclaimed. His father's riddles were becoming tiresome.

There was a moment of silence.

"Femto." His father whispered in his ear. "The demon king."

Gatsu glared at his father incredulously. "Come on…I'm a little old for a spook story."

He saw his father smile warmly. "A spook story it may be. But the legend of that creature has haunted our family for generations. They fear the very mention of his name."

"But I thought you said Gri....he..was..you know...his best friend." Gatsu remarked.

"So he was." his father said. "Long before, when they traveled together as the feared and loved 'Band of the Hawk' they were inseperable. Like brothers. But then....."

"Then what?" Gatsu asked. He wanted to know. He needed to know. All his life he had known nothing but strife because of his name. Just his name. His father had told him of how they were chased away from their home by their own family. How they had been branded "damned" and "unwanted" in the place where they had lived out most of their lives. How they were forced to live on the road with no true place to call their own. Just because his father had given him this name. The name of a mercenary from long ago that now no one even remembers. A supposed traitor of a forgotten kingdom. He could not understand how something as simple as a name could bring his family so much pain.

"What?" he asked again. "What happened to make our family so afraid? Who was Gatsu? Why did you give me his name?"

His father's smile had faded. The name meant nothing to most people of this world. Gatsu knew that even when the man lived, his was not a well known name. It was his family. The legacy that he left behind, after strange dissapearances and vulgar suicides that seemed to plague the young men born of Gatsu's blood, that the legend of the demon Femto began to truly become a factor in their lives. The name was not to be spoken. They would pull themselves away from this curse. Their pride however would not allow them to dismiss the name of their anscestor. The mighty Gatsu. Hero of the "Band of the Hawk". This is what Gatsu's father had told him.

And so his name had been passed down through the generations, as was that of the demon. Spoken and then warned of its danger. There was a moment of desperation in his mind. Why had his father named him Gatsu? He knew well the consequences of his actions. Why had he rebeled so violently against the superstitions of his family? Did he truly believe he could break this curse by facing it this way? What if he was wrong? What would become of him?

Gatsu's father opened his mouth to speak. "Son I.....ugh."

Gatsu watched in horror as a blue and orange feathered arrow embedded itself deep in his father's chest. Blood flowed from his mouth and his eyes rolled into the back of his head. In an instant, the man who had born and raised him, the only family he had left in this uncaring world, fell limp at his feet. Gatsu's father lay dead on the fields of Nar's Pass.

"No." The inaudible whimper left Gatsu's lips as a band of blue clad men and women began charging the merchant caravan. Gatsu's vision was blurred. At that moment he knew the true meaning of rage. A primal ferocity rose from deep within him and with an animalistic scream he unsheathed his father's unused and neglected shortsword from its sheath and ran full speed for the first bandit he saw with bloodlust coursing through his veins.

The bandit met the boy, raising his own blade to meet the attack. The initial power in Gatsu's blow surprised the bandit but he avoided the attack none the less. Gatsu screamed. His face distorted by the agony of his loss. The bandit deftly avoided the blows but the sheer hatred in the boy's eyes sapped his desire to prolong the battle more than necesarry. With a quick movement, the bandit dodged to his left as the unexperienced boy overstepped his thrust and slammed the flat of his sword against the back of Gatsu's skull.

To his surprise, the boy did not fall. Gatsu turned, face covered in his own blood from the fresh scalp wound. A grimace of madness stared back at the bandit who stood motionless, at a loss.

A bolt of energy struck Gatsu's back. Searing pain soared through every nerve in his body and then......nothing.