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A Look Back
Legends of Crescent Velum!
Story of my Father.
When I was a young boy, my father and I would travel the world selling wonderful things that my father would stumble upon. My father was a tall musclar man with very pale skin, eggshell blue eyes, snow white hair, and a wardrobe that astounded the world. We wore half robes in honor of being half whole ourselves, but some people just thought we looked shady because of our unique garbs.
When we were passing through a small village called Usaph, a villager began accusing my father of horrible things. He told the other villagers that he had witnessed my father ripping people apart with his barehands and taking their prized possessions. My father looked at the old man and smiled "I'm sorry sir," he said with a gentlemanly bow. "I believe you have me confused with another." He stood proudly before the villager's with a humbling grin covering his face and his arms opened wide. "Me and my son are the two Velums!" He announced with an air of joyous nobility in his voice. "We bring you things in hope that they will bring you closer to finding your other half! Isn't that right Crescent, my boy'?" He asked whimsically.
After a few hours passed, our goods were sold and we began packing up to move to the next town. With a sense of pride in my heart, I pulled my fingers through my soft white hair and sighed a sigh of pleasure. We had helped many people put smiles where they had not been in many long years, and our names would live on with them. As I stood in the middle of the street, guarding the cart from darkness, I suddenly heard a loud crack. Frightened, but determined, I stood with one hand on my cattle stick and the other feeling for the reassurance of our lone horse, Casper. The loud crack sounded once more, and then a muffled voiced screamed. The voice sounded so familiar that it over-rided commen sense and sent me running into the darkness. When I rounded a corner I saw my father standing before the man who had insulted us earlier, but something wasn't right. Between the two lied what seemed to be nine ruined bodies and a dismantled horse, along with tons of amazing things.
"Monster..." the speculator hissed into the night.
"Entertainer." my father corrected raising his hands into the moonlight, revealing hands covered in blood and gore. What was going on here?
"Does it entertain you to watch such attrocities occur by your own hand Mr. Entertainer?" The man asked menacingly.
"Does it behoove you to insult honest men such as myself?" my father asked nobley.
"Honest men lay among the wreck, a monster stands before their mangled corpses, and a master stands before them all." the man said as he touched his body with a staff and suddenly he wore magnificient robes of silver.
"Then I shall destroy the master, so that he may learn to hold his tongue." My father said feral-ly. He lunged at the man in robes but was instantly on fire. So my father fell to the ground, screaming in agony as he was burnt into oblivion, and there was nothing I could do about it...
"Father.." I squeeled before common sense could forbid it. The man in robes stared at me with a condescending look, before he smiled wickedly, which sent shivers down my spine.
"So you may learn from this, allow me to do you a favor." He said evilly as his eyes began to glow and I was turned slowly....and painfully smaller.
When I awoke, I felt so strange, so awful, and then I felt worse as I caught my reflection in the broken glass. I had been transformed into a snake... A snake.
"Goodboy. And you will remain so for a day. A snake for a day, a freak forever, for the mark of this day will never leave you." He said menacingly before he floated away. One day of being a snake... Great way to spend a childhood... So I spent the day coiled up in a closet, hiding from my fate.
Midnight came and my body began contorting in odds ways. It hurt so bad, but not as bad as turning into a snake. When I was finally able to open my eyes, I looked into the cracked mirror inside the closet, and I was pleased. I appeared normal, except for not having ears, but I could still hear fairly well considering I could hear the flys outside my shelter buzzing over the bloody remains. Suddenly though, I was scared for I saw a snake in the mirror. Though I could not sense anything else in the room, and when I turned it was gone! But when I returned to the mirror, the snake did too. That's when I realized... The snake... was my tail... The magic man had cursed me...
After I was cursed with a tail, I began traveling around the world in search of a place I could belong. After a year of searching, I came across a Monastary called Rathaman. The people in the monastary all had different backgrounds, but came together peacefully for the common purpose of study and freedom. They took me in, and trained me in multiple forms of martial arts, which at first went horribly since I was not used to having a tail, and it kept throwing me off balance, or I would trip over it when trying to kick, but after a while, I began to excel at it thanks to the added balance and strategies I could impliment thanks to my lovely tail. Soon I was one of the few to over-power the master and I earned the right to don the robes of a Rathaman monk. Purple and black adorned the white skin and white hair I still possessed, and I began to study with the other monks.
Finally a sense of structure took form in me. I became transfixed on the teachings of Rathaman and started earning lightning bolts to put on my robe to show my transcendence in the ranks of his people. Rathaman was a unique man that lived long ago. He called upon the power of lightning to defend himself but otherwise he was completely peaceful and rarely spoke. He had so much self-disciplne that he was willing to let beggars beat him so they would take the food he had openly hidden in his robes. But when someone troubled innocent people, he would use lightning to split the wrong doers in two.
Learning so much about the man we worshipped gave me new ideas for how to fight, and soon I had fashioned my own fighting style. My weapons consisted of my tail and a chain for range, and my gloved fist with metal plating on the back for shattering bones with my speed instead of brute strength. For I learned that I may not be very strong, but with my speed and agility, I could overcome that small problem.
After a while the monks decided that I was getting to excited about fighting, and in doing so I was venturing away from the teachings of Rathaman. I was removed from the Monastary and sent to be a wandering monk, spreading the message to any who needed a good word. I decided to seek adventure instead. Modeling my new robes in a fashion that suited me better, I packed my things and went off to find someone to assist me in my travels, and maybe cause a ruckus or two along the way.
When I visited a town near Shadowdale, I noticed that most adventurers wore scars of faith to them. I joined up with a bounty hunter, and in a show of my determination, I carved the final lightning bolt of my tutolague into my forearm, and we set off. After five years of beating down worthless crooks, I finally left my friend Bartabuss, and set forth to find a new adventure.