Legends of Belariath

Twerlinger Jespeth

Twerlinger Jespeth was born to a pair of Ryoushi Hunters. His time with them was sadly short when on a routine hunting trip, when he was still in his crib; the group were ambushed and captured by driders. Unbeknown to his captors he was left on the edge of the campsite where his parents took rest and was thusly forgotten. His parents gone, with noone else to care or support him things looked bleak for the feline baby. Chance fell on his good side a day later, when crying and starving a pair of rangers discovered the rain sodden basket. His first memory was of being pulled from his basket by a female's arms. He was taken back to a small settlement where the two who found him, Elspeth and Jorund Jespeth, took him as their own and raised him as their son.

Throughout his childhood, the obviousness of his feline roots brought him resentment and hate from the local children as it became apparent that he was not the biological son of his parents. His childhood was a very secluded one full of mishap and mischief but also full of hate. Rumors soon spread throughout the settlement who were unaware of the feline race claimed him to be a spawn of evil, resulting of a pact with the dark one who lived at the base of the mountain. The main driving force of the rumors was to make the cat-boy break local regulations so they could expel him from the settlement.

Several years of comments, taunts and being the subject of mockery within the settlement still was unable to stir any anger within the feline, which in the end resulted in general acceptance of the feline. It still however meant he was ignored and in some cases feared by anyone of his age due to the stories told to them by their parents. Throughout his childhood, Twerlinger, mainly only had contact with his parents and nature. Many years of apprenticeship meant that Twerlinger began to become more and more a ranger like his parents. He had been taught about classifying different herbs and flowers and how to survive when his money was spent. Woodcraft and other forest skills were passed on by his father, ready for when it was time for the cat-boy to leave the settlement.

One high summers evening after the harvest festival he happened upon a small flute which one of the local children had been playing in the festivities. He returned home with it and began to practice and it soon became a respite for the quietness of his free time On his fourteenth birthday he was presented by his parents, a full flute, and a small widow, a not very well known elder of the settlement, began to teach him how to play it with flair. His fourteenth year also brought the learning of basic self-defense skills and the hunting skills, which he had seen, his parents use countless times before.

With his coming of age his adopted parents took him to his favorite spot in the forest and over a picnic told him everything that had transpired, they had found him at the scattered remains of his campsite and took him and raised him as their own. They were unable to tell him of his origins and of his biological parents and of his race. Distraught at the suddenness of this news he left his parents that day and walked for some distance contemplating what he wished to do with his life. Stopping beside a clear bubbling brook he gazed upon his own reflection and swore to himself he was to take the path of a ranger, a protector of nature, and search for the many answers to the questions about his being in this existence.....

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Many miles had been traveled by the feline since leaving that distressing day, many plants and herbs had been sampled by him and he wished to share this new knowledge with his adopted parents, trying to retrace the weary steps he took so long ago. Six days he marched, his minds eye displaying images of his childhood, as all he could think about was returning back to those who had brought him up in this world and made him the person he was. Abruptly shocked back to reality as the harsh stench of burning wood stung his nostrils. Looking about quickly he saw many trees had been cut down and shaped into crude gallows, and that he swore he could recognize some of those who were swinging gently in the autumn breeze. Looking to the ground he saw that this horrid act had been carried out by a group of at least a dozen individuals all bolder in weight than anything he had seen before. Looking south he could see the trail of destruction and murder led towards the last known location of his settlement. Fearful for his parents and those who had actually shunned him, his pace quickened as his anger grew with each long step.

His path led uphill as several more of the females of the village lay battered and used in the ditches beside the beaten track. Stopping a moment to console himself and to regain the hope his family were still among the living he continued walking the tormented path, which each passing moment began to torture him to his very core.

As he crossed over the breast of the hill he took a moment to let his sad green eyes take in the view before him. The view, which he used to enjoy, this time only brought pain and sorrow. Falling to his knees as his gaze touched the settlement he looked to the muddy track before him and sobbed. Many moments passed before he forced himself to look back at the remains of his livelihood, his gaze quickly looking for any who remained alive. Driving back his tears and emotions he took a long moment to stand his heart heavy as he wondered into the death covered grounds of his former home. Stopping he looked to the entrance of the settlement his mind numb as he looked over the burnt and mutilated bodies which lay half buried in the brazen earth. No one had been spared in the devastation, which, by his guess, happened overnight.

His heart rose into his throat as he sprinted to the location of where he was brought up only to see his mother and father hanging by the large old tree he used to climb when he was a child. They both had been heavily tortured, his mother raped, before being impaled through the chest with the very spears he was taught how to make when he was younger. With one mighty swing of his dagger he cut them down before turning and walking away from the heartbreaking seen which he had come back to. Going back to the small clearing where he had been told that distressful news two years previous, he sat and wept as his heart broke not only for his parents, the other villagers, but for the woodland itself, who all had been the innocents of this attack. Vengeance rose within him for those he had lost, he swore to himself that those who committed this foul act would perish by his own hand.

He spent six endless days in the area, putting the dead to rest and wishing and hoping that the next life bore more fruitful results than the one they had been taken from. Kneeling next to his adopted parents grave he played a sorrowful tune for them before brushing the stinging tears away from his features. He stood and bowed before gathering up the small bundle of his belongings and left hoping to seek out those who caused the pain he was currently feeling. In his search it took him to all ends of the empire his survival skills kept him alive and even though he met many other travelers his patience always enabled him to avert any violence that could have ensued. In his routine he would play the song the old widow woman taught him all those years ago, to the rising sun. Over time his musical skill improved enough so that people would throw a few coppers his way just to hear him play. He used this to his advantage and was able to pay for his room and board along the journey.

After two years of unyielding searching, his hopes began to fade for the group who did all this to him and his family. Stopping beside a lake, the feline sat along beside the bank and just stared at the water, his mind replaying past events of his life. The hairs on his neck suddenly stood up on end as he felt very uneasy, he slyly glanced around trying to see if he could sense the source of his discomfort but was unable to, so he slowly returned to staring at the water, all the time listening hard, just in case he had been mistaken. Suddenly his ears twitched as he heard the sound of a breaking branch, he whirled round, his hand sliding to the hilt of his weapon, and he stopped at the sight before him. Standing before him were 2 figures, one male and the other female…his heart leapt at the sight of them, their form seemed so familiar to his own, the fur covered body, the ears, the tail. The only major difference seemed to be the fact that they were completely free form any form of clothing, whereas he was wearing the clothes his adopted parents had given him, just before he left the village. He stared for a moment, and then bowed low to the strangers, as the humans had taught him to. The strangers looked at him with a mixture of surprise and disgust and slowly began to move off.

Calling out after them he managed to get them to stop, and slowly he managed to begin a dialogue with them. His heart filling with joy as he found out that they were indeed the same race as him, but his joy turned to sorrow and anger as they suddenly began to curse at him, calling him outcast and half-breed and any other number of names. The insults from a member of his own race were enough to push him over the edge, and he began to retort, drawing his weapon and adopting an offensive fighting stance. The strangers were quick to follow suit and soon the 2 of them were slowly circling him, feinting as the moved around him, trying to confuse him with their actions. Suddenly the male lunged at him, screaming wordlessly as he moved. Twerlinger saw his movements from the corner of his eye and was about to move, when he noticed the female beginning to wave her hands in the air and a small glowing symbol begin to form, thinking quickly he threw himself to the ground and roll to one side as the magick the female had been preparing went off, sending a bolt of energy at the male, striking him in the chest, the smell of burning fur and flesh beginning to fill the air. Twerlinger bounced back to his feet and look on in horror as the male dropped to his knees, clutching at his chest as his fur caught alight and began to smolder and burn, the results of the spell the female had cast were obvious, as was the hatred in her eyes as she glared at him, turning towards him and chanting again.

Realizing he was out of his depth he quickly backed off, managing to dodge the next energy blast the female threw at him, and with that he slipped away into the forest, vowing to avoid her at all costs, as her calls for revenge echoed through the forest.

Over the next couple of months he spied the female, always on her own, but with the same burning hatred in her eyes. Twerlinger used his knowledge to continually evade her and keep as far from her as he could. A couple of months later he was sitting by a wall, playing his flute, simply enjoying the sunshine and company of nature, and listening to the conversation of people as they passed by. His ears twitched as he heard a term brought up that he had been hearing a lot of. ‘The Lonely Inn’, supposedly a place where various strange and wondrous people met and conversed about topics. He smiled softly to himself, vowing to find and see if this place truly did exist and if so, maybe someone there would be able to help him find the answers he was seeking.

So he began to gather his possessions, made his plans and began the journey towards where this fabled place was supposed to lay. He walked, a little bounce in his step as he tried to imagine what he might find there. Suddenly he crested a hill and paused glancing in wonder at the sight below him. His heart leaping for joy as he saw what he thought could well be the building he was searching for. His ears twitched and his tail swayed behind him as he slowly moved down the hill towards ‘The Lonely Inn’

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