Sartan Savericks - So It Begins

Chapter 1 - The Beginning

I was 5 years old, still living with dear old mom and dad at the time. The year was 1708, the century of nobles, kings, queens, lords and of course, masters.

It was also known to be the year, of my living fucking hell. The hell of wearing those, weird dress suits that made me look as if I were a girl, not that I knew it at the time, but they were always uncomfortable to wear. I mean, I got l manly man parts between my legs don't I? like shit ain't smooth down there, there's a bulge, check for yourself if you need to, might get you into some fun trouble if you choose to though. Anyway enough talk about my bulge.

I lived with mother, father, and the other things, also known as my siblings. In a run down house. The roof was warped which meant when it rained. Puddles of water would pool into the dents in the roof, causing the house only to rot more, as well as make my room drenched in water, I even had to put metal pales under the leakage, and don't even get me started on the stormy nights we had. Now all this rain would cause the house to smell, rotten, and nearly un- breathable, as far as I can remember anyway.

My brothers, and sisters would always find some way to enjoy themselves around the house with the littlest things we had. Sometimes it could be rocks that had weird animal like shapes, which then they would then hand them over to my Father and he would grave the animal details into them, which he could do since back then, he did rock sculpting with the make shift materials he had made. Not able to buy the tools as we were not rich back in that day, not ever.

As my brothers and sisters were playing amongst eachother, with their homemade toys to their liking. I sat alone in my room, as always. My parents would say I'm ill, which I don't disagree with them. You see, they said I played to rough with my siblings, because apparently chasing them around with objects as a joke was dangerous, to me that was called pure enjoyment. Especially when my sisters would scream 'stop!' Or 'get away!' But my favorite is when they'd beg me not to hurt them.

Now of course I didn't kill my siblings, or even cause harm to my family. Though that would soon all change for me, when I had least expected it.

I remember the night as clear as the bright moon sky, that seemed to have dark shadows and presences lurking with in the night. my family was setting up a dinner, as a traveler my father met only a few days ago had caught his friendship with in a few words and minutes of talking.

My father had invited the strange man over to dinner with the family. I remember what he looked like, and how he was. He wore some fancy long black coat, that had some white ruffles that stuck out of his sleeves, as well as black shoes with white high stalking's. It seemed as if he were rich, and by judging the way he had a carriage outside waiting for him to be done, indeed he was. Unlike my family at the time, we had a single horse with a shitty carriage that looked as if it were not attended to properly.

Was the man not only rich, he was powerful and had come from a french background, so his accent would stick out, along with his long black hair that was done up in a pony tail. Now I will say, pony tails were quite fun to yank on back then, hell even now there quite fun, makes me want to go out and pull wigs off people's heads, now wouldn't that be fun? Anyway.

We all had sat down at the dinner table, one that was, ready to about drop to the floor at that, but we managed. There was red cloth on the table that had seemed to bring some sort of light to the gray colorless room, especially with the candles all lined up trailing down the center, along with the fruit bowl in the middle, which was up for grabs for anyone, but for me of course. I'd always make a mess.