Do you have more stories to share, Seneschal? I was quite fond of your last one. That I could give you compensation for your time, you need only request it.
Arisen, ‘tis recompense enough that I might have a brief distraction from my eternal servitude. As for a tale I might tell you… hmmm… mayhaps a vivid childhood memory will suffice?
I had just celebrated my eighth summer (meaning I was now a lad of 8 years old and nearing adolescence). During this time I had developed a particular fondness for exploring the woodlands that hugged three of Viete’s city walls.
This day was like many others and yet it would end up being like no other day afore it, I set off in the early morn with my trusty Iron Sword, gifted to me by my father in celebration of my sixth summer, and a makeshift shield (forged from the lid of a barrel). I recall that by this time I was proficient in slaying the smaller goblins and kept a small supply of Dragon Spit for scaring away the larger hobgoblins. This new found proficiency left me hungry to seek out a bigger, newer challenge so I searched for something a little bigger such as a harpy or wolf. I listened closely to the sounds of the forest for the telltale singing of harpies and searched the forest floor for wolf tracks. Alas, after an hour of searching I found that neither quarry were particularly easy to come by.
This seemed like a good time to have a break and so I sat upon a tree stump to eat the fruits I had scavenged from the forest, and to have a quick sup upon the small flask of Cloudwine my mother provided me (in Viete children were encouraged to take small amounts of such spirits for the sake of their health). Midway through my break I heard a queer sound that I had not heard in the forest before. It was the strangest mix of noises; a whining, bleating hiss. I wondered what manner of beast could make such a racket and started to sneak closer to it. With each step the sound grew louder, and I more curious to find its originator.
As I pulled open the leaves of a large Scarlet Angelica bush, I came face to face with the source of the sound. T’was a Chimera’s young. A tiny runt of a creature which was snuggled close to a much larger beast, no doubt its mother. At first I thought to run, but the mother Chimera made no sounds and no movements. I had heard that a sleeping Chimera snores like a thunderstorm and yet, this beast was silent. So, with equal measures of stupidity and bravery, I stepped out of the bushes and went to take a closer look. Sure enough, the mother was dead; her tail lopped off and her fur caked in blood and deep blade marks. Arrows were embedded in the goat’s head and almost resembled a ceremonial crown of some sort as they jutted out from around its head and neck. In the midst of my morbid starring, I suddenly felt something nuzzling strongly at my ankles, I looked down to find the cub pressed against my leather boots. It squeaked, bleated and hissed all at once at me and I reached down to pick the lump up. It was cold and shivering, instinct seemed to kick in and it instantly buried itself closer to me for I was clearly warmer than its mother. I inspected the beast; all its eyes were tightly closed and it could only squeak helplessly for protection and warmth. I figured it must be particularly young as I recalled that many baby animals, when newly born, are blind and helpless.
I tucked the beast, which I had already dubbed ‘Knight’, under my arm and jogged off back towards Viete…
When I returned home I found my father tending the kitchen fire whilst my mother prepared lunch. I knew full well that a Chimera was a dangerous thing but I remained compelled to ask my parents whether I could help little Knight back to health. I called out to my parents;
“Mother! Father! Look!” and proudly placed Knight on the dinning table.
Knight whined in protest at the cold wood and instantly tried to drag his floppy body back towards me whilst my mother and father looked on with unreadable expressions.
“’Tis a Chimerling,” my father mused as he stroked his chin, his typical gesture of deep thought, “Where did you find this, son?”
“In the woods!”
“Oh dear… What of its mother?” my mother was already tickling Knight’s side with a gentle finger.
“Dead… I found Knight trying to get warmth from her dead body.”
“You called it Knight?” My father looked somewhat bemused by the unfolding situation.
“Yep! I think it suits him…”
My mother giggled and said “Indeed it does! Just like my little Knight.. oh but what will I call you now? If I call for my little Knight, won’t you both come?”
“Um…” I was at a loss for words, as usual my mother had the right of it.
“You can’t keep it, son.” My father had ‘that’ tone to his voice that told me there was little room for protest.
But, I tried anyway, “C-couldn’t I just.. nurse it to health? So it can fend for itself?”
“And what if it attacks our city?”
“….” I had no answer to that, I couldn’t make assurances for Knight’s behaviour.
“Oh fie, dearest,” My mother spoke up, “I think we could allow him to look after the Chimerling until it is adolescent!”
“Elizabella….” My father started but he never won a verbal battle with my mother. Ever.
And so, I was allowed to keep Knight on the strict instruction that I take him somewhere ‘far from human civilisation’ when the time came to let him go…
I won’t bore you with the day-to-day of a lad and his Chimera cub but our growth cycles coincided nicely and when I was an adolescent, ready to go to Gran Soren to seek my fame, Knight was well on his way to being a fierce male Chimera who could easily fell, and eat, an entire Ox. We travelled the road to Gran Soren and I set him free in the South of Gransys where the fields were vast and the prey was plenty. At first he seemed confused and unwilling to leave his ‘mother figure’ but after much encouragement he bounded off and ‘twas the last I saw of him… Once I was satisfied that he was going to be okay, I set off towards the Ancient Quarry in search of my knighthood in the ‘big city’…
Hmmm… t’would seem my reminiscence has ended up becoming quite the lengthy tale! I hope it did not bore you, Arisen?