[Flashback]Ashes to Ashes, Rogue to Knight.

[Wystern]

Time Stamp: Spring 45, 496 AV.

No kid should ever go through this. No. Wystern's parents were just a pair of thieves who got over their heads, but the thought of their having a child never flashed through the minds of the band of thugs that killed the thieves in their own home. Wys survived maybe with luck, or some skill to hide which he acquired when his father got drunk and became enraged.

Things could always get worse? That sounded like a joke. Cities and their lack of law enforcement. Whether there are laws or not, there must be crime; or so was the theory in which all thugs survived. Wystern's parents did have a close friend that was a part of a mob. He could maybe take the kid in. But not for free. Nothing is free, ever.

At age six, Wystern was hardly home. Cities and kids; abandoned buildings, empty theaters...there are always places to escape, one just had to look. All that Wystern could remember from that year is a small boy delivering letters from one part of the city to another, heavy walking for a kid. Nights were no better; a boy crying himself to sleep, missing his mother. Nobody seemed to notice him. Nobody seemed to care.

Eventually, Wystern secured a place in the cartel. But his services were not required every day, but bread was. Begging by the side of a road worked sometimes. There are other homeless people, and they were usually bigger. Territories and turfs had to be fought over. Wystern was still too young.

Survival is part instinctual and part learned as he would soon find out. Pick pocketing can help, but it's a punishable crime. Wystern saw what happened to pickpockets if the Knights were not there. Syliran Knights, their code too complex to understand for a mind of a child. He saw them every so often. He always viewed them as the bad guys, the kid was a criminal.

Seasons changed. Nights got colder. Wystern found a an abandoned theater and made it his hideout. Too bad the district was vandalized, frequently. It was, nonetheless, a place to sleep; so to speak.

Time Stamp: Summer 7, 498 AV

Wystern was starting to become recognized by the authorities. Cartels and mobs always get busted in the city full of other thugs to find them. Wystern never had enough money for food, so a disguise or a hair dye was something out of question entirely.

That day, there were no requests for a delivery, and the begging was off limits. He attempted to pickpocket some random man in the residential district, but as the saying goes, never steal from a thief.

The man that Wystern just tried to rob looked at Wys with a smirk. He was dressed mostly in leather, several dagger handles were visible on various parts of his body. Wystern was locked in the gaze, too scared to run away.

"Do you have any parents, child?" Said the man, as he reached for a bag behind his back.

"N-no," replied Wystern.

"Someone to stay with?

"No."

"Do you want to eat tonight, kid?"

That was an offer that was difficult to refuse. Wystern nodded.

"Come with me."

Time Stamp: Winter 10, 498 AV.

Wystern's life seemed to have took a turn for the better since the day he met Rogue. That was all he could call him, the man refused to tell him his name. That was disrespectful, but it was not the least bit important. Rogue taught Wys how to read and write, "It would increase your survival chances," Rogue said. Wystern could never tell his boss that he was not illiterate anymore, after all, that was one of the best reasons they used him: some kid, to which no one pays attention, carrying documents he could not understand, or even read and relay that information.

The days were going fast and nights were long. Rogue was teaching Wystern how to steal, how to fight. His training was regarded as if it was art. They were both staying in that same abandoned theater that Wystern found a couple of years ago.

His life was starting to become enjoyable. Hard work, Rogue's training, Wystern loved it. Rogue was the one who introduce the importance of the mask and the cloak. Rogue was the one who bought Wystern his first dagger.

Time Stamp: Summer 35, 499 AV.

Wystern has just returned from a day of pick pocketing. Rogue's was an excellent teacher, Wys wasn't caught even once today. The day's routine generally consisted of Wys bumping into somebody, and while they were disoriented, quickly slice their money bad, or stealing their wallet. It was becoming easier with each time. He pocketed 24 gold mizas in total.

"Rogue!" Wys called out as he entered the hideout. He got up into the attic where Rogue normally staid. His bags weren't there, all his belonging gone. A fairly-sized bag lay on the mattress where Rogue slept. Wystern opened the bag and found a sum of about 50 gold mizas in there. There was no note to explain this-Wystern did not need an explanation. Rogue left, as he said he would have one day.

Wystern was alone again, scratch his tiny fortune. He could live off that money for a season or two. There had to be a reason why Rogue left, but there was no use trying to find him. If he wanted to leave a clue, he would have done so. He didn't. Rogue was gone, and that meant that Wystern had to find a syndicate to work for, and soon.

Time Stamp: Summer 60, 499 AV.

Wystern almost killed someone today. The assassin's dagger is made like that.

Several thugs broke into Wys's hideout. Kids, only a bit older than Wys. When he asked them to leave they laughed, and tried to attack him. He didn't know who they were, maybe robbers, maybe hooligans. No time to think, Rogue's training came in.

There were three of them in total. Unarmed. Wys unsheathed the dagger and kicked the first robber in the knee, caving it in. The second robber connected a hit to Wys's stomach, but the kid had better reaction, as he grabbed the thug's foot and drove a deep cut into his Achilles tendon.

Still full of rage and adrenalin, Wystern charged at the third, his opponent's eyes were filled with terror. He stabbed him straight in the right hip. That guy won't be going anywhere soon.

Wystern looked at what he had just done. There were three kids laying on the floor, almost crying in pain. Time to leave. Wystern's hideout is discovered. Even if he would let them leave, they would come back again, without the courtesy of waking him up.

This city is full of places like that theater. One just had to look...

Time Stamp: Summer 80, 499 AV.

Wystern finally found a new place to stay and a job. He joined a little cartel of slavers.

His assignments were simple: deliveries, lookout, spying. One day he would be getting paid to walk across the city relaying letters. The next he would be overseeing that prostitutes did their job as they were supposed to. Underworld is always ugly.

Wystern found a slight enjoyment in that job, he was almost always out in the field, doing simple reports or deliveries. The kid was very likable because of his tact.

Wystern found an abandoned school to stay at. Ruins. It was a roof over his head, and that was all he needed. Soon, to his horror, Wystern realized he couldn't remember his mother's face.

Time Stamp: Spring 26, 500 AV.

Wystern celebrated his birthday a week ago. Alone, though he was never lonely.

Wystern was getting ready for another day in his job. Cloak, dagger, mask. Ready. Today was special. Today he was going to participate in a really dangerous robbery. Wystern was excited. He was still an amateur and was about to bite off more than he could chew.

The plan was to take a transporter's money and leave with no one getting hurt. What happened was that the transporter tried to fight back and one of Wystern's company killed him.

That is it, now they are murderers. Bad things happen to killers in Sylira.

They made their way back to cartel, the tavern was the meeting place. About seven people in the building, he was the youngest. Not soon after, Wystern heard a loud noise from below the stairs and screams.

"Syliran Kni--" someone screamed out and never finished. Cartel was getting ready to fight. Here came the cavalry. Wystern hid in the corner's shadow. His eyes shut, with hands on his ears, trying not to cry from fear.

The next time he opened his eyes, he saw most of his *"colleagues" dead. A figure was approaching him. The man was somewhere around 6 feet tall and was wearing very heavy armor.

"Are you one of them" He asked.

"Y-yes," Wystern replied, he was too terrified to lie.

The man reminded Wys of Rogue. In a way, they both sounded kind.

"Do you have a family, kid?"

"N-no," replied Wystern.

"Someone to stay with?

"No."

"You are coming with me."

"What?"

This conversation seemed so familiar; in a way.

Time Stamp: Spring 19, 502 AV.
Syliras Main Gates.

Since that fateful day, Sir Jacob took Wystern in. After he listened to Wystern's story, he said that Wystern would atone for his crimes by becoming one of the order. For some reason, he always called Wystern, Crow.

For two years since then Jacob trained Wystern in the art of the sword, in the creed, in the lore of Knights' gods.

They celebrated his birthday. Second time he was not alone since his parents died. In a year, Jacob said that Crow was to become a squire.

Wystern could not wait, after all, he now owed the Knights his life.

[Thread End.]

[Gossamer]

. Character: Wystern Experience: 1 XP Larcney, 1 XP Dagger Lore: Lore of Sunberth's Underworld, Lore of Living on the Streets, Lore of being an Orphan Additional Note: Next time, if you'd like some extensive experience points, you need to break up the one long post and talk about the scenes in more detail. I was actually hard pressed to award the two xp I did because in all honesty you told us things happened, but you didn't really go into much detail or use techniques or describe battles except where the three youths broke in. If every scene had such detail, it would be worth a lot more. .