| Giant Join Date: Jun 2006
Posts: 93
Thanks: 0
Thanked 7 Times in 6 Posts
|  New Character Submission - Ron Kallahan
Character: Ron Kallahan
Age: 18
Gender: Male
Class: Ranger
Race: Human
Alignment: Chaotic Good
Deity: Katia
Biography:
“Ronn-ieeeee!” the woman's voice bore disturbing resemblance to a harpy's scream. Even though, if he really thought about it, he'd never heard a harpy scream. Not that was complaining in any way, but funny that he should compare it to something... The avalanche of random thoughts that was threatening to ensue was put to an abrupt halt by the second call. “RON!” the sheer anger his mother managed to pour in her voice, together with that edge of hysteria, despair, a promise of endless torment and gods know what else that somehow managed to get captured in a word as simple as his name, confirmed his suspicion that he had bitten into more than he could have possibly chewed. There was no way out. Not this time. The realisation wiped the wry smirk off his lips and made him look somewhat paler as he absently gazed at his older sister, who was standing next to him and whose yet another older sister lecture of “You don't even realize what you've gotten yourself into this time...” was cut short by their mother's calling. Yet he didn't notice her worried face, the caring look in her eyes, and much less did he notice his younger siblings hiding behind the bed, tears in their eyes, looking just as scared as he felt exactly that moment. While he never believed in the “whole life flashing before your eyes” thing that his mother's stories sometimes mentioned, Ron Kallahan found himself experiencing just that...
*
He was born eighteen seasons ago as a second child to his parents, Myra and Kyle Kallahan, a pair of adventurers who had at some point decided to settle down and find a relatively peaceful corner of the world they'd call their own. For as long as Ron could remember, they had been living on a small patch of land verging on the small village of Thunderoak, whose name came from the ancient tree that must've been standing there centuries before the village had grown around it.
While the local clergy of Katia had very early shown their interest in his older sister, Lanni, Ron had chosen to follow the footsteps of his father, Kyle, who was a ranger and was now working as a warden and liaison with the local druid grove. The choice came somewhat naturally to Ron, who even from his earliest days had his way with animals, and inherited his father's wanderlust and love for wilderness. Both his father and mother encouraged him, even though Myra wasn't too fond of Ron's ability to 'tame' rats and have them follow him around. She came from rather rich house but in youth she had traded security for excitement and search of material for her tales, and as such she made sure that she passed all her education to her children.
While Ron proved surprisingly susceptible for his mother's teachings, especially stories and poems involving rangers, he had a strong preference for the outdoors. He would often accompany his father who was happy to pass his knowledge to his son. Or, he would be out with the other children, particularly with mayor's son, Tom. The two were inseparable since the day they met, and soon become known as T & R, and the running joke was that those two letters stood for 'trouble'. Hardly a week, or at times where there wasn't much of a work to be done at home even a day, had passed without some incident involving those two. Most of them were just innocent pranks and caused no harm, and many times they avoided punishment by the virtue of Tom being mayor's son, but nevertheless Myra and Kyle made sure to (try to) teach their son about action and consequence.
When Ron reached the age of ten and his ranger training was to be formally started and shortly after his twin siblings, Simon and Haley, were born, a great woe came upon Thunderoak. A noble sprung from virtually nowhere, claiming that the village and the lands surrounding it belonged to his family. Naturally, the villagers who had enough trouble to provide for themselves without having some fop living at their expense were none too happy about it, but as it often happens in the world where might makes right, they did not get the last word.
“The Grand Baron”, as the village called the sovereign that had forced himself upon them, mostly stayed out of their way, though. He didn't bother them and they didn't bother him, except that when the time to pay tribute came up, there was a lot of cursing and cussing at the local Inn. However, his son Darren, known under a wide array of names and aliases, like the least offensive one - “His highness”, was another story. He liked to mingle with 'regulars', if only just to assert his supremacy, superiority given to him by birth and the power he believed he possessed. For some reason he was particularly fond of bullying Tom, and that inevitably meant crossing his path with Ron. With a quick wit and unhealthy lack of fear and respect for authority, the young ranger-in-training proved quite an adversary for the young “prince”. Ron wasn't really a bully; in fact, he disliked having to confront people, much less fight anyone, and he usually just shrugged the arrogant noble off with some comment that everyone seemed to find funny. In this relaxed demeanour and seeming lack of aggression towards him, the “prince” saw an implication that the peasant/ranger thought he could beat him any time. In fact, it did seem that he was better at everything that wasn't granted by bloodline, and that just further fuelled the hatred...
*
Tom, the mayor's son, was standing with his father in Kallahans' kitchen together with Ronnie's parents, waiting for his best friend to come downstairs. The real trouble, he reflected, began lately, when girls had become a significant interest for everyone. Well, almost everyone. Ronnie seemed to have been too absorbed in the whole ranger-in-training thing to have noticed that the world around them had changed. Or he was just too shy, or lost in thought, or for some reason, he was just hiding his interests very well. Though, to what end, Tom could not comprehend. He suspected his friend was somewhat a loner at heart, like most of the rangers Tom had heard of.
So while Ron was busy playing the woodsman, his sister Lanni had developed into a beautiful young lady. So had Tom's sister, Corryl. And of course, the innkeeper's daughter, Laura. Thinking of her made Tom blush somewhat, but he immediately felt guilty because it was his interest in her that had sealed Ronnie's fate, even if only indirectly. He thought of Cory and her reaction to the news their father brought from the Baron. She was one of the biggest Ron's fans, and had often nagged Tom for a hint about Ron's opinion of her. Like anyone could ever tell for certain what was on Ronnie's mind...
One could clearly tell what his excellency had been thinking of, though. Tom and Ron had observed with worry that the look in his eyes bore remarking resemblance to the one of a feral animal, and that his overall behaviour wasn't that much different from a rabid dog that Ron and his father had come across in the woods not so long ago. Their worry had grown as their adversary set his eyes on their sisters – luckily, both of them were smart enough to see through his sweet talk and empty promises. But then again, it didn't really take a genius for that. In fact, the unspoken consent in the village was that having an orc in a house would be preferable to that sorry excuse for a noble.
Tom shuddered at the idea of Laura being courted by that scoundrel and the two sleazy companions he had brought with him. Unfortunately, when she told them to get lost, she also slipped his name, and so the three rejected men knew exactly upon whom to unleash their fury.
They ambushed him on his way to Kallahans', just outside the village by the creek, out of everyone's ear and sight. How he had wished he was more like Ron as he had to listen to the threats and insults, trying to act bold. Mustering all the courage he had, he did what Ron usually had him do; turn around and walk back to the village. However, this time it was clear they wouldn't have settled for just words. He started to run, too aware that he'd never reach the safety... Then all four of them heard a wolf howling. Aware of the recent finding of rabid dog in the nearby woods, Darren quickly turned to look where the sound came from, and managed to trip himself in the process. His lackeys, being practically at his heels, had no other choice but to join their leader in the dust, valiantly protecting his body with theirs.
Tom reached a safe spot from where he observed what followed; down the creek came Ron, with the usual smirk on his face. Apparently he had been sent by his father to the village's blacksmith to retrieve his longsword that was to be sharpened and rebalanced, and as he was taking a wilderness trail towards home, he must've noticed the commotion on the main road. “Uhhh...” he had expression of bewilderment on his face as he glanced at the three people on the ground. “Y'need a hand, m'lord? Hope you aren't hurt...” Even Ron's mother would have been unable to tell whether there was sarcasm present, but everyone involved seemed to agree there was. “You!” Darren the noble grunted as he and his bodyguards got up. “How dare you, peasant?!” Ron's expression of bewilderment was replaced by the one of amusement. “Huh?” “Don't you 'huh' me, you...” All the years of frustration with the defiant nature boy had gotten to Darren, having him leave the better judgement lying battered in the dust. He drew his sword, and bid his companions to do the same, which they reluctantly did. Tom cussed under his breath.
“Relax... there's no need for this.” Ron was saying in calm voice. “Shut yer yap! Attack!” was the reply he got. But he just stood there, seemingly having forgotten about the three ruffians advancing towards him, idly looking their way. It angered them, Tom could see. Ronnie had often told him that an angry opponent was a beaten one. And he was going prove it; when they got close enough, he drew the blade he was carrying in a quick motion, and advanced towards the three.
He had sparred with his father and had practised disarming blows enough to make him confident he could live through this fight. They expected him to run, and having their expectations shattered, they hesitated. It gave him enough time to strike at the blade of the one on the left. Ron's foe was either drunk or wasn't properly trained in swordsmanship, and as the result his grip on the hilt faltered, leaving him without the blade. He ran, closely followed by the second bodyguard, who chose not to risk his life that day. Ron took a step back and assumed defensive stance, eyeing Darren. “Alright, let's stop this mad...” he began, but was silenced by incoming attack. At that point, it occurred to him he was in a lose-lose situation. He grumbled and launched himself forward, parrying the incoming blow and linking his free hand with Darren's chin. They both tumbled to the ground; Ron quickly secured Darren's sword hand and used his weight to restrain his foe from moving. “You want blood?” he growled, let go of his sword and reached to his belt for his skinning knife. He offered a feral grin to the defeated foe who was on the verge of passing out. “P..please...” Darren stammered. With a wicked grin, Ron raised the dagger and in a quick motion drew a barely noticeable scar on the noble's left cheek. He pressed the dagger next to it, until a drop of blood had been drawn. “There; first drop of blood spilled.” He smirked. “You lose.” He jumped up, picked up his father's sword and offered hand to the noble, helping him up. “Now be a man and stop picking on my friends”.
With those words, Ron strode towards his home. Darren stood dumbstruck in the middle of the road, then recomposed himself and staggered towards his father's castle. And Tom made sure to reach Thunderoak as fast as possible and share the story. Half an hour later, whole village was roaring with laughter.
*
“This boy will be the end of me...” Myra Kallahan muttered and wiped her hands in her apron. She wasn't entirely certain whether to be angry or proud, but she knew for certain that this mess had “Ron” written all over it. In capital letters, too. Where have we gone wrong as parents, she wondered? It wasn't that Ron was a bad person, or even a troublesome child. Most of the time he was the nicest lad she knew, save his sarcasm and big mouth or that dumb look he loved to give people, but he never hesitated to lend a helping hand when it was needed. On the other hand, he also had a surprising capacity of getting himself in trouble. It sometimes seemed to her that everywhere her son was, at that particular moment, that place could be labelled “wrong place at wrong time”. And the irony of it all was that what he usually did in such a situation would've been considered good and appropriate had this been a perfect world. Alas...
Then there was the whole ranger-in-training business. She was under the impression that the very concept, whatever it actually comprised of, was devised solely as an excuse for every single of Ron's actions. “Hey, I'm a ranger in training,” he would say and shrug, whether he was being praised or chastised for something he did (or did not). He actually reminded her very much of her husband when she met him first time, the idealistic youth who roamed the lands in dreams of changing the world. Only that Ron's case seemed even more extreme to her, but maybe that was because he was her son. Whatever the reason, if Myra Kallahan had lived in another place at another time and had read a certain book by a certain Miguel de Cervantes, she probably would have found some disturbing parallels with a certain travelling knight.
And perhaps the most aggravating trait she found in her son was his blindness. For some reason beyond her, at times he seemed completely oblivious of the happening around him, especially as far as women were concerned. And she wasn't imagining things, Lanni had brought that up more than once. Just the other day, she saw the mayor's daughter, Corryl, looking at Ron the same way Myra was looking at her husband after she realised how much he meant to her. But Ron, being his usual self, just kept on rambling... Myra sometimes wondered if all of it wasn't just a mask to conceal his insecurity and shyness and to drive people away. Despite his big mouth and ability to go along with the people, her son had inherited a streak of loner from his father. And maybe, he was trying to live up to the advice she gave her children, that relationships should be built on more than just passing lust. Or... she scowled herself for thinking the ridiculous thought she just had; there was a sort of 'legend' circulating among the children of how a group of them pulled a practical joke on an old hermit witch that used to live in the woods. And when the escape plan didn't quite work out and they were confronted and a scapegoat had to be found, guess who pulled the shortest straw? Though none of the other children could have really recalled what the witch had said to Ron, they all had unanimously agreed that she had put a curse on him, something related to women and relationships, because after all, she was an old spinster with loads of bitterness towards men. But then again, Myra argued, that old hag (gods grant her eternal rest) had been cursing the village's goats and sheep for a long time, and seemingly to no avail. But maybe, just maybe, Ron took the whole curse seriously and was acting upon it on some level of his mind?
*
As he came downstairs, Ron could only wonder about his sentence. There actually wasn't much choice: death this way or death that way. After he reached his home, it occurred to him that he had been wrong; there was no way to resolve a lose-lose situation. There was no victory in the world where might made right. There was no draw, either. There wasn't even a lesser defeat – just the defeat, in one form or another, reserved for those who weren't occupying the upper places of the hierarchy. For some time he didn't dare to look at his parents eyes, nor the mayors'.
But there was no anger in their eyes. As he glanced at them, he thought he could even see approval and pride and in mayor's case, gratitude. His mother was still pale, but she was recovering, which made him wonder about the news Tom's father had brought. So he did what he usually did when he didn't know what to do – he looked at them as somewhat puzzled expression on his face.
“Ron...” the mayor said. “As I was just telling Myra and Kyle here, the 'righteous' and 'just' lord has requested a death sentence for assaulting his son.” What a big surprise, Ron thought. Maybe he should've gone with the instinct and anger, and just do what he was being accused of. Tom's jaw dropped. “What?!” “But,“ the mayor quickly said, not wanting to have to tell his son to shut up, “even he is aware that the people would riot.” He smirked a bit. “So he'd settle for an exile.” He sighed. Ron slightly nodded. This certainly was preferable to instant death, and he was kinda planning to go on a journey anyway. “Or... “ mayor paused a bit, looking a bit embarrassed, “They would even go as far as to forget about everything if your sister...” He never had a chance to finish the sentence, just as he and both Ron's parents expected. “No!” Ron's eyes flashed with anger. “I'd sooner set for the death sentence...” he grumbled. “So when...?” “Immediately.”
He nodded, then looked at his mother's devastated face. “Come on, Ma', it's going to be alright? I was going to take a journey anyway, wasn't I? And now you can't stop me...” he grinned a bit “I'll be fine, Ma', really. I'm a ranger in training, remember?” Despite her sorrow, his mother had to smile. She hugged him, then burst in tears. Even Ron's father looked somewhat distant, and Tom and mayor took the cue to leave...
*
The village of Thunderoak had never truly been a paragon of unity and solidarity. Nevertheless, two hours later, they stood as one on the both sides of the road that Ron was riding along. He tried to look straight ahead, keeping his chin high in a false display of courage. Bidding farewell to his family was much harder than he had imagined. What would tomorrow bring, he pondered. And a small voice inside his head replied: You're a ranger in training, remember? You'll do just fine, Ronnie, he thought, as he noticed Tom's weary face in the crowd. You'll do just fine. Better you than Tom, or Lanni, or anyone. Next to Tom's face he caught Cory's; and now that he wasn't sure whether he'd see her again, perhaps for the first time he realised why she was crying...
But nevertheless, he knew all too well he would've gone on a journey either way, sooner or later. It was just that he wished it would've been on his terms, in more favorable circumstances. Just because he felt he had to say something, he dismounted and knelt on the ground. With his finger, he drew the outline of Kallahan family's rune in the middle of the dirty road and looked around at the gathered faces. “I will return.” He mounted his horse and rode out of the village, with everyone's eyes following him until he became just a dot that disappeared in the twilight...
Last edited by bytor : 04-24-07 at 02:16 PM.
Reason: Fixed Ron's alignment from Neutral to Chaotic Good
|
).
Linear Mode
