My origins are both humble...and mysterious at the same time. Of course...being but an infant with a brain and memory of mush at the time, I have to rely on the accounts of others for exactly what happened. But, according to the few people whom I came to trust, this is how it goes.
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I was found, wrapped in swaddling and throwing a fit inside a woven sweet-grass basket, by a traveling group of Mummers (a troupe of performers...in essence.) as they made their way between two of the villages which dot the Misty Fields of Illeria just south of Kobenshen Kingdom. I thank my lucky stars each and every day that they chose to take me with them rather then leave me to become a tasty snack for some wandering beast....or marauding and less morally bound Werewolf or Vampire. Though, as I came to learn in my later years...my life was saved by just one pair of hands and no more. The hands of Talia...a Werewolf whose singing voice was one to rival the Gods. Had it not been for her and her stubborn protesting against my abandonment...I am sure Malcom would have tried to run me over with the wagon wheels. Oh..forgive me...I forgot to explain. Allow me to do so.
Malcom was the leader of the little group of traveling performers that I eventually came to know as my family. He was of the Vampric race (emphasis on Prick..) and was an ornery bastard at that. He was an amazing story-teller though...and I have to admit that I own the man credit for my own skills in the area. The rest of the troupe was made up of both human Slaves that Malcom had purchased as well as Talia and her younger brother Shem, both Werewolves. Our talents were vast and our skills were great....our names were praised in the halls of Nobles across the land. But that's another story for another time.
When I was found, Talia and her brother claimed that I smelled solely of human...and thus convinced Malcom to take me in as an additional slave. Malcom, true to form, pissed and moaned about it from the very moment I was brought aboard the Wagon. With every little baby cry I let loose with; he flew into a fit worse then anything my nappied bottom could have ever come out with. The entire road and ship-ride to Scane...and now that I recall it the first 2 years of my life...the man did nothing but complain and treat me like My only saving grace was Talia. She was ever my only saving grace. I could never count the number of times she saved my life from being snuffed out by that bastard. The Kingdom of Scane was where I spent the first 8 or so years of my life. Being that I do not know the exact year of my birth...I have to make estimates based on the time Talia claims to have found me. She tells me I couldn't have been more then half a year when I was found. So..8 years I spent on the island of Scane....learning the tricks of a performer from all those around me in the troupe. I was a blank slate...the perfect student for such work. My daily lessons were not in typical form. Of course I learned the history of the world as it was known...but in the form of fanciful stories...not the factual tales of proper schools. I had lessons in music...from bawdy little ditties to ballads that would make even the hardest hewn Werewolf weep. I even learned a bit of acrobatics, tumbling and the like, from as few of Malcom's more nimble slaves. All in all...I was being groomed for my life-path without any of us even knowing it. Though that one day in the summer of my 6th year...I pretty much figured it out. 6 years in Scane had me more or less suited to the balmy weather of the more jungly island. I was a scrawny spratling, with gangly limbs and ears that stuck out just a bit too far from my head. It was almost as if nature had built me specifically for the role of the Fool. Talia seemed to come to this conclusion as well as she noticed the steady development of my sharp wit and even sharper tongue (I often sassed my 'Master' when I was angry with him.). One day during the sweltering summer....Talia presented to me a wondrous gift that would only ever be trumped by a second one by her later in my life. It was a hat...more specifically...A Coxcomb, and a little Fool on a stick made of iron and oak (who I later named Stevens). The tools of a true Fool. A Court Jester. In our little world...to my 6 year old heart...it was the most amazing gift ever. Two and a half years later we left Scane and returned to the Misty Fields. By then I had learned quite a bit performing at the side of my adult companions. Not only had I learned many a tale and song, but I was also getting quite proficient at the art of Juggling...as well as throwing my voice...and blades (Shem had purchased two sets of small steel throwing daggers that he wished to work into a show with me). Throwing my voice came in handy with Stevens...and throwing knives came in handy with saving my own skin. I grew to be the most beloved member of the troupe in the eyes of our audiences. Though that is likely only due to my utter adorableness and the fact that I was so skilled. But I digress. Once we left Scane...life really seemed to begin for me. I had practically grown up on that jungle-covered island...so the vast fields of Illeria...and then the thick forests separating them from the Putrid Swamp completely amazed me. I had never seen such wonders of nature before...and so I was quite a good little kid on our travels. Too awe-struck by the scenery to be of any real burden. Then gain....Malcom saw me as a burden every time food slid down my gullet. We cut through those woods, breaking out just north of the Putrid Swamp...and right along the coast into the Kingdom of Lea'Thor'Ress. The journey took us a total of 4 years to complete...what with stopping to perform here and there when we crossed a village or town. By the time we arrived in the Kingdom...my skills had grown so much that I hardly needed my troupe to entertain the masses anymore. Something, it seemed, that Malcom both loved and loathed at the same time. I brought him in amazing amounts of money....but I stole his shine as well. No longer was he the Amazing Malcom...Vampire of Tricks. With me around he was just that old blood-sucker looking dower in the corner. Perhaps the was why he did what he did... We were 4 years in Lea'Thor'Ress. Playing our little show for even the smallest of audiences....so long as they paid. I was now 17 years old, give or take, and had grown into quite the handsome thing if I do say so myself. Though...Mother Nature never saw fit to bless me much in the area of height...leaving me at barely 5 and a half feet tall. The bloody bitch. Talia didn't see my height as anything but another sign that I was destine to become a True Fool..and she proved it to me with a second gift beyond anything I could have ever imagined. She must have saved for years to purchase it....and I almost couldn't bring myself to accept it from her. But she demanded. It was a perfectly tailored Jesters Suit made of soft silk and cotton fabrics in black and gold tones. A perfect match to my hat. It was on that day that I became The Gilded Fool. Everything seemed to just feel...right at that moment. Perfect. Unfortunately... one harvest day as we made our way to the country manor of a Lord who had paid for a private performance....Malcom sprung his evil little treachery on me. We had stopped the evening prior to make camp rather then press on through the night. Malcom, even the prick, had never shown pity on me and forced me to make my bed each night under our wagon. Save for the winter months, thanks to Talia. Early that morning...Malcom kicked me from my cozy little hovel in the mud and told me to go find wood for the mornings fire. It was a little odd...since the sun was still a good two hours from rising...but I obliged with a grunt and a groan and went to find a bit of the woody stuff. It was such a simple trick...and I know not what he told the rest of the troupe or what exactly happened in my absence....but when I returned to our camp.....everything was gone. I was left with a few short tracks that eventually just blended right into the road....and my personal pack sitting in the mud, Stevens grinning at me as he stuck out the top. Of course I immediately ran to the Lords house...knowing that we had a performance there the next day...but I found nothing but a confused house-maid who claimed to know nothing of a troupe of Mummers coming through. Left confused...I headed back to the main city of Lea'Thor'Ress. I spent a year in the Kingdom searching....finding nothing but one dead end after another. Eventually...I chose to take a ship to the Empire Island...where the Emperor ruled from. It was the most populated place I knew of...and it was close to Lea'Thor'Ress. If I knew Malcom....he would head there next. But, I would find out after 5 years of searching, I didn't know Malcom from my own arse. I never found them. It's a tender subject to this very day...but a necessary one for this tale. At about...22 or so I would say, I returned to the main land and Lea'Thor'Ress...but I did not stay. I purchased myself a Buckskin Mule mare, who I named Ginny, from a merchant who found her too lazy for his needs and left the Kingdom. I had given up my search for the people I had called my family...and instead decided that I would either begin my own troupe....or I would find myself a proper Royal Court where I could perform my Professional Foolery at such a level that Malcom could never hope to attain.
Just because I am a Fool...does not mean I am a fool.
