Lemont Blair - Lawgiver on the Field of Battle

[Nehetsrev]

[SIZE=18]Turning Points

[/SIZE]I - The Bully
[/B]The walk home from the school-house was often quiet and uneventful. So, it had been a surprise to both Raelyn and Lemont to hear taunting laughter and the sound of a minor scuffle from just round the corner of an alley they were approaching along their usual route. The two, brother and sister, paused to look into the shaded run between two buildings to see what the commotion was all about. There they witnessed a boy they knew named Jamison being held against the wall of one building by two older, larger children while a third child poked at Jamison's chest with one finger, and leered menacingly. The third child was none other than Tony Aleman, a bully who was a year older than Lemont, and easily more heavily muscled than Lemont's own lithe frame. The bullies hadn't noticed Lemont and Raelyn yet, and Lemont took a breath while he languished over what to do.

Lemont liked Jamison well enough, and the two had played together and explored the woods on the edge of town on several occasions, though Jamison was younger than Lemont himself by two years. On the other hand, Tony and his thuggish allies Tucker, and Stanly were nothing but trouble. Trouble that Lemont didn't want to get involved with, and that he certainly didn't want Raelyn to have to face.

"Hey! Leave him alone!," Raelyn shouted at the bullies before Lemont had finished his own thoughts. The four sets of eyes in the shade of the alley all turned to look. Jamison's filled with hope and pleading, while the three bullies filled their own eyes with anger and malice.

"Butt out if you know what's good for ya, girlie!," Tony shouted back at Raelyn. He made to turn his attention back to Jamison without a second thought, but Raelyn had more courage than any girl her age ought to, and an inborn righteousness that Lemont could never understand.

Lemont knew that by Toran, Raelyn was doing right standing up for little Jamison, but he stood frozen himself that moment, fearful of Tony's retribution more than he was inclined to do the right thing. Numbly, and a moment too late he tugged on Raelyn's sleeve and muttered to her, "Come on Rae', let's go before they decide to hurt us too. We can get Dad to help Jami'."

Raelyn's sleeve slipped free of his grasp as quickly as she took three steps forward into the alley and continued to scold Tony. "I said, "Leave him alone!" Tony! It's not right to be mean like that!" Tony turned to face her as she shook her finger at him righteously.

The sneer on the bully's face was almost gleeful as he quickly stepped forward toward Raelyn and thrust his arms out to knock her down on her bottom. As the dust kicked up by her impact swirled about her he ranted, "Shoulda minded your own, girlie!"

Lemont's anger flared seeing his sister pushed to the ground and he finally began to step in, fists clenched for a swing at Tony, but Tony turned to Lemont with a scowl. "Ya gonna try somethin' twig-boy?," Tony challenged mockingly. It was all that it took for Lemont to freeze again from his fears.
"Didn't think so.," Tony commented before turning to his friends and ordering, "C'mon fellas, we've got what we wanted from Jamie anyhow. Let's not waste more time." With that Tony and the other two shoved past Lemont and left the alley.

Lemont bent to help Raelyn up, and as she returned to her feet she smiled at him. "See? We saved Jamie. So what if I got pushed down? It didn't really hurt." She brushed dust off her dress and it swirled in the air around her as it began its slow process of settling again. "Mom'll be a little miffed about the dirt though..."

Lemont looked for Jamison to see if he was alright, but the other boy had already run out the other end of the alley. Lemont's own feelings of guilt ate at him. He should have been the one to stand up to Tony, Stanly and Tucker, not Raelyn. His pride was hurt too, to be out-shown by his sister. He'd have to find some way to even the score with Tony, for Raelyn's honor, and his own.


II - The Push Come Shove
It wasn't more than a week past that Tony had pushed Raelyn down in the dirt and dust of the alleyway. Lemont had dreamt of revenge on the bully almost every night since. This day Lemont had been sent out on an errand to buy a small sack of flour for the household bread. He was merrily on his way to the general store with coin in pocket and pleasant thoughts on his mind despite the light rain when he heard a sobbing from that same alleyway. He stepped round the corner in time to see Tony and his companions leaving out the other end, and Jamison wiping at a bloodied nose with his sleeve.

Anger welled up in Lemont, as well as a plan of action. The bullies hadn't seen him, and he knew if he was quick he could surprise them. "I'll get 'em for ya Jamie!," he uttered as he sprinted past the other boy. Coming up on the three from behind, Lemont launched himself into Tony with all the force he could muster, sending Tony face-first into a puddle of muddy water. For that spit second Lemont felt satisfied, and exhilarated that justice had been done. Until the other two boys tackled him and pressed his own face into the mud mercilessly. Tony got up and began kicking him in the ribs repeatedly, all the while shouting obscenities and instructions to Tucker and Stanly about how they should hold Lemont for the next blow, or how they should take a turn or two themselves. Eventually they rolled him over and searched his pockets, taking the coins Lemont had been entrusted with for the flour.

Lemont was only dimly aware through the pain of it all when a guardsman's voice called out from down the way and the bullies scattered in all directions, leaving him soaking in the mud of the dirt, the rain, and his own blood. He didn't even become entirely aware that the guardsman had picked him up and carried him home until he heard the shock in his mother's voice and felt her fingers running gently over him, checking the seriousness of his wounds.
He lay in bed that night and all the next day, one eye swollen shut, his lip split, and his spirit in tatters. Raelyn stayed by his side, giving him sips of water when he asked, and praying silently to Toran when he lay still and silent in his misery. "Toran. Protecting the weak. The whole crock. It just isn't worth it!," he decided as he lay there, "Where was Toran to protect me? But Tony, Tucker, Stanly... They're going to pay one day. Somehow, I'll see to it. Somehow."

He never spoke of who had beaten him so badly. When questioned about it, he would just say he had not seen who'd done it, too afraid of what the bullies might do to him if he told. The names of the three were even brought up directly, thanks to the witness of the guardsman who'd carried Lemont home, but still Lemont wouldn't finger them.


III - Toran's Favored Child
Around six years had passed since Lemont was beaten in the rain by Tony and his little gang. For a month after their family had to do without bread, to Lemont's private shame. After he took his first bite of bread when they did have flour again to make more, it somehow tasted bitter in his mind, and he vowed to himself not to eat bread again until he took down the bullies and restored his honor. So, for about six years Lemont left any bread he was given at meals untouched, until it simply wasn't offered to him anymore.

In the time that had passed, the three thugs had been given jobs with Tony's father at the tavern. As they grew older they stopped beating local children for fear of running afoul of the town guard. Though they turned to mugging strangers passing through town if there was opportunity enough.

Lemont spent his waking hours when his chores were finished each day either brooding and planning, or practicing swordplay and balance exercises at first. But as time passed, so did much of his resolve for vengeance. Besides, girls were beginning to become a pleasant distraction, but most of them wouldn't spare a glance for a brooding loner it seemed. So other plans began to form in Lemont's envisioning of his own future.

He was almost eighteen now. Raelyn was fourteen, and still as devout to Toran as ever. Lemont went through the motions, pretended to aspire to such faith as his sister and parents. Though sometimes their disappointment came through in subtle ways, everyone else pretended they believed Lemont's act. They were always trying to encourage him to believe again, of course, but everyone in the family knew he was just going through the motions. It was easier for everyone that way.

Then the cursed letter came. Raelyn was accepted to the lousy leadership pogram. Mom and Dad couldn't have looked more proudly at her, like they hadn't looked at him since that day he'd been beaten in the mud. Toran's favored child! All the resentment had piled up. All the anger had built over the years. All the plans for vengeance and the reclamation of his own honor from the three that had robbed him flooded back into his mind.

He set out again that night into the rain after his family was sound asleep. He was careful to be sure none of them stirred as he left. He found Tony first, drunk and nearly passed out behind the tavern. Lemont looked closely about and saw no witnesses before he chanced taking his opportunity. It was almost too easy pushing the man's face down into a puddle and holding him there til he no longer drew breath. Lemont left Tony there face-down in the puddle, pausing long enough to take the knife he knew Tony always carried. After all, the knife might make a good memento of the night Lemont took back his life from the thug.

Next Lemont found Stanly and suffocated him in his bed. He almost felt a twinge of remorse for this killing. Word around town was that Stanly had begun to feel badly for all the terrible things he had done to others with Tony and Tucker over the years. Lemont had even noticed Stanly present for sermons at temple lately, and the fellow had looked genuinely depressed. Maybe he would have turned his life around in time, but Lemont wanted his own pride back. He took care to not be seen as he left after he hanging Stanly's limp body up from the rafters. Hopefully everyone would believe the man had really hung himself and not suspect the truth of the matter.

Tucker was last. He had been harder to find than the other two, not at home or his usual haunts. Lemont found Tucker bending over an unconscious traveler he'd been about to pat down for valuables after he'd patted the poor fellow down with a club. Coming quickly from behind Tucker, Lemont slit the man's throat with the knife he'd taken from Tony earlier. He stood over Tucker for a minute, head filled with thoughts of the triumphs he'd wrested from this night, watching the blood pulse out from between the fingers of the hand Tucker clutched to his severed throat uselessly. Victory over the three bullies was his at last, and with finality. Lemont scanned the surroundings again to see no witnesses. He double-checked to be sure the traveling stranger was still actually unconscious. He then dropped the knife he'd taken from Tony onto the ground next to Tucker, reasoning that perhaps the authorities would believe Tony himself had done the deed in some fit of jealousy or greed. Quickly Lemont scavenged through the unconscious traveler's belongings, and took a few that looked valuable. These he returned to Tony's body with and left on his person to further the deception he'd envisioned.

The rain of the night presented its own problem. Lemont's clothes were drenched in it by the time he'd arrived outside his home. He took them off, examining them in the darkness for bloodstains. It seemed that the rain had prevented any from occurring. He hung them out on the clothesline before sneaking back inside. Since the rain had set in unexpectedly, other clothes from the days laundering still hung out as well, so perhaps the new additions wouldn't draw any suspicions.

Sliding back into his own bed at home, Lemont remained awake until dawn, pondering how likely it would be for himself to get caught. It had been six years since he'd last tangled with the three, and in that time he'd avoided them in the public eye, and kept his own nose squeaky clean. He'd kept covert tabs on the three during his plotting for years, listening to gossip to learn of where their lives had settled into routine. Surely no one would suspect Lemont, would they? Maybe it would be best to quietly leave town after the initial reactions of the three deaths were run through their course, and before suspicious minds started poking around. He would act hurt and offended that Mom and Dad were making such a fuss over his sister, which really wouldn't be a stretch, and that would be his excuse for leaving. At the very least, as a means to ensure his survival should the authorities discover he was a murderer before he was ready to leave, Lemont resolved to visit the local Bind-stone the next day and risk dying on the spot trying to bind his soul for the chance that he would succeed in becoming Stone-bound.

In Lemont's mind though, justice was done, and most folks who had known the three likely wouldn't miss them. He had his pride and honor back now. He was a man again. And who wanted to be stuck in this hole of a town anymore, anyhow?

[Nehetsrev]

Lemont's Personal Journal
 
 Febra 28, 1484
 
 It has been some time since I left home behind me now.  I've decided it would be interesting to keep a record of my travels to read and reflect on later in life.  A preservation of memories, lest I forget where I've come from.  An aid to keep me focussed on where I'd like to go.
 
 That said, I've met some interesting women, and seen many varied things I'd never have seen had I stayed in Fort Llast all my life.  For instance, I swung a mining pick next to an older lady by name of Miss Abi in a cave infested with kobolds and other vermin.  She had pink hair, and channeled the Al'Noth.  It was a strange sensation to have magic cast upon me for the first time by her.  In the end, she paid me very well for the hard work I had done in her service.  Perhaps I'll look her up in Port Hempstead for some further work, since once more I find myself running short on coin.
 
 I met also another wielder of the Al'noth by name of Miss Breanna.  Her magic protections kept me safe and swinging while I performed a task of retrieval for the guard captain of Port Hempstead.  She seemed young enough, but I think perhaps she may have been an Elf.  It was difficult to tell for certain with her hood pulled up over her head as it was.
 
 There was a beast in Center that I encountered that's worth noting here.  I'm told it was a Wemic, half-lion, half-man.  I don't trust that it was as tame as it's handler claimed, but at least I've heard of no attacks by the beast yet, so who knows?  I did discuss the legality and safety of such a beast being brought within the town's limits with a maiden of Rofirein.  Apparently, in Center there is no law to prevent such beasts being present in the town and nothing can be done until the beast actually harms someone.  If I were a resident of Center, I'd be pushing for civic codes to keep those kinds of beasts out of my town, but since I'm not a resident it really isn't an affair of my own I suppose.
 
 Of further note, I am certain my ritual of binding to the Bindstones took hold properly.  Death is a very painful thing, and being ressurected by the Bindstone is even more so.  I know first hand now due to a fight with fish-beasts that went badly.  It takes me some time afterwards to fully recover and feel whole again.  I will work harder now and in the future to prevent myself from going through that again, to be certain.

[Nehetsrev]

Apreal 2, 1484
 
 I've been traveling in company of the mystical Miss Breanna.  I say mystical merely because of her skill manipulating the Al'Noth, of course.  In any case, the two of us have been venturing forth to various areas and dealing with threats unlawful, macbre, and beastial in nature so that common folk may continue to lead their peaceful lives unhindered by the prospects of such things hanging over their heads.
 
 At first, Miss Samantha had set out in our company as well, but she later left us when I had a tiny dispute with a stubborn, childish and barbaric Dwarf by name of Naldin.  No manners at all, that one.  Let me tell you!  He flew into a temper tantrum merely because I stated the fact that he is little, and began assaulting me with flailing fists.  I did my best to put up with his outburst, but he simply wouldn't let up, so I appealed to miss Samantha to have him arrested for assault.  To my amazement and disappointment she sided with the childish Dwarf.  They said I injured the little fellows honor.  Poppycock!  There is no dishonor in being small physically.  Dishonor comes from acting small in ones relations toward others.  A fault which they attempted to claim I was guilty of.  Again, poppycock!  My actions were beyond reproach.  Never once raised I my fist to the childish Dwarf, though perhaps I should have made good on my word to bend the immature fellow over my knee for a switching.  It is a sad and unjust law indeed that allows for a bully to physically harm another simply because they have heard a word or two they do not like.  Such is the will of Rofirein, I suppose.  What should one expect from a god who is a beast such as a dragon though?  It is still disappointing how gods often manage to fall short of their agrandized glory.
 
 I will write more later.  For now, I must attend to washing my clothes.  One must keep up one's appearance, after all.