The Stranger
Finraer sighed as he looked down upon the village nestled in the river
valley below. His friends were down in the tavern. Minsc would be drunk by
now and Imoen had probably gone to sleep after the day’s excitements to
leave the rest of the party to regale the locals with tales of their
heroic exploits.
Finraer would have been with them but he felt the need for solitude and
time away from them. Perhaps he would leave for a few days and meet up
with them later. His life had become very complicated recently and he was
not happy with the direction it was taking. It hadn’t really been that
simple though since the day a stranger had come to his house.
******
Finraer had been playing by the river in the warmth of the afternoon
sun when he had noticed the old man. He was a tall greying figure,
imposing and yet strangely unthreatening, walking along the track towards
the young boy. His thick set shoulders and body implied a great strength
and yet, as he came closer, Finraer noticed a deep wisdom in his eyes.
Here was a man who had seen and done many things and had more than his
physical scars to prove it.
"You there! Boy!" he called, "Can you tell me where I might find the
smith in this village?"
Finraer’s heart skipped a beat. Why would such a stranger want to see
his father? His father made no weapons, had never done so as far as
Finraer could remember. It became even more puzzling when they got to the
smithy. Finraer’s father jumped as they entered his workplace. The big man
laughed and ran towards his father, envloping him in a bear hug that
Finraer noticed caused even a big man such as Finraer’s father to
grimace.
It turned out that the two were old companions back in his father’s
youth when they had set out in search of adventure and treasure (Finraer
had never thought of his father as a young man and certainly never of him
being anywhere other than working in the forge or laughing at the dinner
table after a hard day’s work). The stranger had come in response to an
old promise between the two and Finraer was asked to leave while they
discussed the details.
Finraer had wandered off into the fields and returned for supper to
find his father and his strange friend waiting for him at the door.
Confused, he looked at his father.
"What is it father?"
"Finraer, my son. This is Beorn, my old friend. Despite my friendship
with him, I had hoped he would not come so soon. You are probably not
going to like what I have to say but it was decided for you many years
ago. You are to accompany him back to his keep where he will be training
you as a cleric."
******
Finraer sighed. So many years and yet that had been when it had all
changed. He had stayed with his parents of course after an initial tenday
with the old cleric but from that day forth he had travelled to the nearby
keep to train. The village he had lived in had been not dissimilar to the
one below. With that painful thought he turned towards the path and
returned to his friends. Who knows, they might need him. |
