Our Man Flynn
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The baby came the the world in the usual way. If the usual way includes at
thunderstorm and about a dozen portents of power and danger. But he was a
normal enough baby, ten fingers, ten toes.The shamams of the tribe watched, just the same. If a tribe is to survive
then you do not ignore the signs, even with a baby. And, as is the way, the
signs did show. Little things at first, odd fires, imaginary friends.What locked it away was his study of Tempus. the boy knew battles and could
make a plan and evaluate past wars. For him the riites of the tribe were
not a chore but a joy. By the time he was five they had singled out the next
generation of shamans and he was in that group.By ten he was showing promise and had called his first 'friend'. The fire
mephit was an odd companion but they nodded and continued his training.
Prayer and spell, tactics and battle. He took to each lesson like a sword
to a scabbard.When the time came for a job beyond the confines of the camp he rightly saw
that it was a chance for him to prove himself and to do something for the
whole tribe. Flynn wasted no time in putting his name forward. In turn, the
shamans did not waste much time deliberating, he was on the list and given
the basics for the task at hand.The elder shamam took Flynn aside and spoke with him just before he left.
''Remember, what you do, you do for the tribe. What you are, what you
become, reflects on us all. If victory comes at the cost of honor then you
have won nothing and lost everything."With the warcries of the tribe driving him on he ran over the hills and away
from his home. . . Towards Norwick.Character Name: Flynn Raonul
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