Memoirs of Alas Nevermind

[Alas Nevermind]

Neatly written and left forgotten on a table in the inn:

"Why the dragon spoke with me defies all reason.  My years fighting evil and protecting the innocent have long since gone.  Still, I walked down the path as the beast directed me.  As if in a dream, I spoke with a fallen hero.  

I awoke in Hlint by the foot of a little fellow in black.  Poking my ribs with his foot, he did not seem to care that I had mysteriously appeared in the town he traveled.  I asked but a few questions, but his annoyance was quick I could tell.  He was, however, able to answer my most pressing question, that of my name.  

You see, I cannot recall anything.  Where I came from.  My likes and dislikes.  My god, if any.  Or even who I am.  When I asked him, he apparently knew of me, as he huffed, Alas, Nevermind.  It did not sound the least bit familiar, but so be it.  Ha.  Now that I think more on it, perhaps it was more of a statement than a name.  Ah well.  It will do for now.

I looked about this town whose name I am told is Hlint.  Strange occurrences were everywhere.  A small crafter healed those who entered the town wounded.  A large beast spoke clearly to another who addressed him as Micheal.  Other creatures roamed the city freely.  No one took notice.

After much time had passed, I realized I held my sword this entire time.  It brings me comfort for some reason -- so familiar to me.  That was not all that was familiar.  This place...seemed like home.  Is this where I am from?  

Although my mind was tired, my body apparently was not.  A man dressed in red asked me to help gather a rat pelt from the local sewers.  After an embarrassing moment of getting my head stuck in the piping, we entered the sewers.  Rats immediately set upon us.  Before I could think to react, my blade swung before me, cleaving the rodent in half.  Even until this very moment, I am surprised by my skill.  More rats.....more kills.  They lunged at me, my body moved away.  While the task was in no way easy, I seem to be capable of more than I imagined.  The red one and I successfully completed our task.  A good man that one.  

We met with other youth from the town, a gentleman dressed in blue who said he was a song sword.  He called himself Farros I believe, but my memory escapes me frequently now.  Another small man joined us....was it Unthuz? ..and we headed to a cave in search of bat pelts and a chief's head.

I knew this cave.  I knew it would be red before I even entered.  But how?  As we passed through, the hairs on my neck stood on edge.  My blade worked as if on its own.  Oh, yes, the bard and the little man were most helpful and quite impressive with their skills..as I likely would have died without their help...but the more my blade swung, the better it got.  We slew the goblin chief and returned to town with his head.  

My body, too, seems to be more limber, younger feeling now.  Oh, I know, it sounds crazy.  Perhaps that is what I am... a crazy old man whose memories are perhaps best forgotten.  Or is there more to me?  I trust this blade like I trust nothing else.  And, yet, something is not quite right about it.  I must think about this more.  Yes...I..must..thi. . .  

*The ink trails off, as if the author had fallen asleep while writing.*

[Alas Nevermind]

Entry 2

Although I do not yet know my true name, much of my memory returns to me.  I, at some point in my life, resided in this land.  My first inclination came as I exited the merchants in Hlint.  A young lad approached me and asked me the whereabouts of spider silk.  Without question, I gave him directions and told him what he might find there.  I thought nothing of it as he bowed and went on his way.  As I stepped off, I could feel a startled jolt throughout my body.  I had never been there.  How could I have possibly known this bit of information?

Next came Alexander Leonidas.  I spoke with folks near the well regarding a smith who could make better weapons and armor.  Then he was there -- standing next to me.  He appeared out of nowhere, all dressed in black.  I nearly attacked him he surprised me so.  To my amazement, this quick-witted rogue appeared to be kind and trustworthy -- as well as quite the smith.  Ha!  I suppose someone has to make all those weapons for those hooligans!

He led me to his house, not surprisingly behind the blacksmith.  He certainly was a smith, as no furniture set within the interior, merely a few crates of various supplies.  He led me to a particular crate and drew out a sword and showed it to me.  The shape, the angles, the mere look of that sword was incredibly familiar.  He handed the weapon to me.  As he did, a flood of memories rushed my brain, bloody battles being raged, fallen friends, cries of pain, burning villages, dark figures.  I was a leader of some sort.  Men followed as I barked commands.  In the end, I lay motionless on the ground, defeated, eyes open, blankly staring.  It appeared as no surprise that we were defeated -- almost preordained.  Yet even in our lose, we felt our victory.

The memories faded, as the poor young lad just watched me stare at the blade in my hands.  He asked if everything was okay.  "Aye, lad, that it is," I replied.  As I had little gold, I vowed my services to Alexander in payment and we parted ways.  I looked upon the blade in my hand once more.  I felt strength returning to me.  That blasted dragon was right to call upon me.  My work is not yet finished.  I may be older, but none have worked harder to master the wielding of a bastard sword than I.  Back into the fray, lad, back into the fray...    

[Alas Nevermind]

Much has come back to me.  I know who I am once again.  Nearly all of my memories have returned.  The blade presented to me by Alexander seemed to be the catalyst my mind needed.  There is more to that irony than young Alexander can even begin to imagine.  Some day I will tell him all that I know..but he is not ready for that yet.

I have travelled extensively once again.  Lands are familiar, faces as well.  The blade responds to my whims without merely a thought.  My youth was dedicated to the use of the bastard sword.  My love for the feel of it in my hands came the moment my father smithed the sword before me and placed it in my hands...still warm from that anvil.  

The fighting I have done and the travelling with friends has restored my strength as well.  Each day I feel stronger.  I have much to do here in Layonara, and I become more certain with each passing day that the dragon was not as much of a fool as I was....

//requesting permission to become a weapon master...

[Aryn Ravenlocke]

Please make a post to the Character Submissions thread. Post it as an UPDATE BIO. Then include a link to here and a brief bio for us to look at.


YT

[Alas Nevermind]

I would like to continue, if possible, to reveal his memories in stages.  So although I can provide a brief bio; with your permission, I would like to limit it to only the details surrounding his prowess with his weapon.