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Hello all, my name is Dar. Apparently my parents named me Daralia, but everybody just calls me Dar, or at least that’s the best thing they call me. See, I’m a Hoyden. What is a Hoyden? Well, as far as I can tell the only reason that I’m considered a hoyden and not an adventurer or even hero is that I’m a woman. My choice to wield a sword and determine my own fate means that I am an outcast, with no home, no family, and no chance to change what I am. Of course I wouldn’t change it because at least it’s better than where I came from. Does get lonely sometimes…
Now don’t you go telling anyone I said that! I don’t need anyone, either, in fact most folks just plain make my skin crawl.
Alright, enough about me, have you seen a girl of sixteen summers, ash brown hair, about yea tall, lovely singing voice, name’s Jayla? She was taken from her parents’ croft in the dead of night. I’m really…, I mean they’re really worried about her, and I promised that I’d get her back. It’s an almost impossible task, but I mean to see that girl home, or die trying. Well, I’m pretty good with this thing, <pats sword> so it is more likely that others will die while I’m trying, but my point is that I don’t give up.
So have you? Seen her?
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I know many don't want any Hoyden's but Ach don't mind female adventurers I grew up around women who swung swords. I knew this one lass that could swing a sword like she was in a dance show. And her legs looked like twin towers...
Well, sorry to tell ye that I haven't seen any girls yea tall lately. Now that one Ach was telling you about could sing like a bird... But besides a group of wee female singers a week or so back I haven't seen anyone who can sing either.
But if you don't mind where be ye from? And are there any dangerous beasts in these here forests? I'm traveling myself Ach would appreciate any warnings ye can give me.
If you need any help Ach has this two handed claymore you might have noticed and I have this set of pipes here that makes a noise that might scare away most attackers and beasts.
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My computer dictionary defines "hoyden" as "an offensive term that deliberately insults a young woman’s self-control and thoughtfulness." Does this apply to you?
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Yeah, most folks spit when they whisper “hoyden” to one another as I walk by. Some folks don’t bother to whisper. And some have lived to regret testing my sword when they sought to “teach me a lesson about my wicked ways.” I choose to embrace the stigma for the freedom that comes with it.
Am I thoughtless? I was thoughtless enough to leave the house of the man who raised me, fed me, and beat me once every third night or so. I was thoughtless enough to not just stay to cook and clean for him, and be his handy punching dummy.
As for self-control, I didn’t kill him did I? Surely that shows some self-control. Of course it might have had more to do with the fact that I knew they’d hang me for it, no matter what he did to me. But I also left before he acted on that gleam he was starting to get in his eye, because then I probably would have killed him, or at least tried. I had more spunk than skill back then, and it took all I had just to get away.
These lovely woods we are strolling through have dangerous beasts a plenty. There are the usual bears, mountain lions, wolves, and such, but you’re one of the most dangerous yourself, man. Critters mostly don’t trouble you unless you trouble them, but humans… well let’s just leave it that I don’t much care for most humans. Now if you’re referring to the rumors of Dragons in these parts? <laughs> I think that’s no more than the fanciful tales of careless shepherds. You should be safe as a babe to breast if you don’t go bringing trouble with you, or starting some.
Like wanting to know where I’m from? Why, exactly, do you want to know that? I’m from here, the Kingdom of Thrice. You don’t need to know what town, unless you’re planning to go there and make trouble for me. And I assure you that you don’t want to do that. <looks you over> Well, it may be that you’re asking because you’re some kind of strange pilgrim or something, and this is your first time to Thrice?
Alright, I’ll tell you just a little about Thrice. It’s named for the Thrice-King. As legend would have it he’s been here twice before and is supposed to return once more. The first time he gave us writing and the law, the second time he came as a priest, and he is supposed to come back as our King. Every time a royal baby is born, there’s this big to-do about finding out if this is “the one”. I’m not sure I buy it, but I know better than to make a fuss.
Now if you don’t mind, I need to see if anyone has seen that blasted girl. How about it? Anybody seen her?
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<stops in passing and glances at the shikse with the large breasts, sees the larger sword and quickly raises his eyes to meet Dar's as she turns. clears throat>
Hmpf. A girl of sixteen summers, you say? Brown hair, silver-throated...'taken' from her parents' home? <removes skullcap and scratches bald spot ringed by greying curls> And her parents heard nothing? No sound of struggle? <shakes head and says mostly to self> Century after century and we learn nothing. Why is it that parents always forget being teenagers?
<louder to Dar> I saw, heard actually, a young woman of that description in 'The Nether Hare'...a tavern in the next town over. Her voice drew me off the street. A lithe little thing for such a voice. Sweet, joyful, strong...like a spring lark courting the sunrise.
She was with a young man, bookish...pale, dark-haired, gangly as a foal... looking out of sorts, if you know what I mean, among the hostlers and farmhands. The girl had eyes only for him, however. His eyes were strange though, irises so light a blue they were almost white, like ice. <shrugs>
You may still find them abed, perhaps--it's the rare teen who rises early unless pushed to it.<frowns as Dar taps her sword hilt. Their eyes meet and she stops> That is, if she be the one you're searching for. <adjust packs and takes a step along the track, pauses>
If you should be searching for her at all. <walks away>
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Searching I am and I’ll check it out. Truth be told, I’ll be glad of it if she’s only run off. Not to say I won’t knock some sense into both of them mind you, if it is her, but my instinct tells me that this is something far more sinister.
Jayla had no reason to run; Dale and Sara doted on that child, their only one. She could have brought home the swineherd’s boy and they would have loved him.
Besides you don’t know Jayla, that girl was downright content. Unnatural. Most folks don’t know when they’ve got it good, especially young ‘uns, but she loved her “little corner of heaven” as she called it. Not that I understand what she sees in the place, it’s just a farm like a thousand others far as I can tell. I mean, I stay in one place too long and I get this itch between my shoulder blades. Course I do sometimes stay a whole week with Dale and Sara so maybe there is something special about the place, but now I’m chasing rabbits. No, Jayla did not leave by her own will; I’d stake my own life on it. In fact, in a way I already have.
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What respectable man would have me? And even if I found the rare creature that I could respect and love, who was willing to have what all consider to be damaged goods, he would likely lose everything by tying himself to me. How could I do that to one I cared for? I am tolerated, barely, on the edges of society. There are those who would see me dead just for being what I am, for the choice I made, but this at least the law prevents.
The law as it pertains to those it classifies as Hoydens is a thin ledge over a bottomless chasm. Short of taking my life, it is lawful to take anything else from me. My only protection is my sword and my wits. And even yet, I am not permitted to kill even in my own defense or I am named a murderess and to be punished accordingly. I have no rights under the law save for the most basic of human rights, my freedom, my life, and my speech. I have no right to property of any kind save that which I can protect myself. Money, food, clothes, horse, even my own body, anything I have is plunder to any bold enough to try for it. Of course, <grins> I have earned my reputation as a hard mark to hit.
The first few years were the worst, but I have made my choice. I cannot unmake it, nor would I choose to. You don’t understand what my life was like before. I barely remember my parents and after they died I was given to the innkeeper who offered to feed me. He did feed me though I worked twice over for all that I got. He was also a mean drunk… <stares off, then shakes her head> well now, we don’t need to go into all that just now, let’s just leave it that I’m much better off. Even with as hard as it was right after I left, it was still better than it would have been if I’d stayed.
Dwelling on the past just makes me angry, and anger clouds the mind. I do have one. The monks were quite surprised, but more than happy to teach me to read. Gentle souls, they taught me as payment for the illuminated text that I fetched for them after it had been stolen. It was one of the first jobs that I did, but even today if I stop by they’ll ask me if I’m ready for my next lesson. <smiles happily>
I like my life, I’m just very realistic about what it contains and what it does not. I hope this answers your question.
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I have to wonder about the why of it. You're a legal outcast, an untouchable, an inside man at the skonk works...somebody your society doesn't respect the least little thing about. Not someone who would have reason to help someone...but you're about to help this Jayla person. Motivation?
Also...as for "no chance to change what I am"...I have a feeling you're about to try...
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Well, there are always those as swim against the current like Dale and Sara. They have always been real decent to me, even if I don't understand it. 'Sides, Jayla is a friend, blast the girl, and I don't have so many as to be willing to part with one.
Especially when I can do something about it. This is what I do after all, find those as don't want to be found, in this case those that took her. (I dare say Jayla's pretty eager for me to find her.) I have to make a living somehow, and tracking fugitives or finding stolen property is about the only work I'm allowed. Probably 'cause they don't care if I get killed doing it, better me than one of theirs. Still, work is work, and I need to eat; I'm no thief or charity case. Turns out I'm even pretty good at it, course I should be after nearly fifteen years. Yep, I've been at it for more than half my life now.
So that pretty much makes me the only one who can find her who's even likely to try. So how 'bout it? You seen her?
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It still puzzles me why any would choose to associate with someone like me, but I am grateful. I mean, I’m good with my solitary life by and large, but sometimes… <gazes off> you just get to craving a kind voice…
Er, well, that is to say… oh hang it all. Fifteen years of building a rep as the toughest she-wolf under the moon, and it’s all undone by a careless word to a sympathetic stranger. The wrong folks hear that I’ve gone soft and it’ll mean clawing, biting, scratching my way clear all over again. That is if they don’t just take me down by targeting all those they think I care for. That starts happening and I’ll know whose doorstep to lay it at. <glares, then sighs> Ah…, but maybe I have gone soft after all this time. <straightens> But I damn well better have at least one more good hunt left in me. I mean to get Jayla home to Dale and Sara, no matter what I have to do to make that happen.
Well stranger, it has been good talking with you; you’re not such a bad sort yourself. You got any more of your thousand questions before I get moving again?
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A female human kitten is missing? What does she smell like? Is there anything specific about her? Human kittens can be nice to cuddle with, if they're not the nasty kind.
You said that no respectable man would ever have you. What do you mean by that? Would you only accept to have as a mate someone respected by the society which rejects you? Or do you think you might be willing to accept a tom like you, who's tolerated only on the edges of society?
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This Jayla...happy in her situation...but where was it going from there? Sixteen summers---well, we'll assume they're years and the same length as Earth-years for now---happy in her "croft," whatever that is.
But was it a stable situation? Surely she'd have to leave it, for marriage or for a career or somesuch. Were her parents comfortable with her comfort in their croft? Did she leave or was she pushed?
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Robert, angel, sorry for taking so long to respond. I was off looking for Jayla. Still haven’t found the girl yet, but I will.
Robert,
Jayla was happy in her situation and as the only child, she stands to inherit her parent’s farm. Her and whatever lucky young man she marries. The farm might not be as large as some I’ve seen, but the split rail fences that Dale built, probably with his father, are straight and true. The house, though small, is nonetheless big enough for a family with several children. Jayla once told me that it has been a few generations since it’s been truly full, but she always spoke of filling it to bursting, joking about putting children in the cupboards if she had to. No. She would never have left Meadowcreek, not willingly.
Angel,
I’m not quite sure how to explain a smell to a cat; in fact I’m not sure that I’ve ever had a conversation with a cat before, at least not the two-way kind. You aren’t one of those Wildcats that I’ve heard of are you? They say that they’re really just women, female warriors that can transform into large cats like the legendary TygerLili. You one of them?
Anyway, to answer your questions, it is not society’s respect that I mean nearly as much as my own. I think that I might be able to respect, and maybe even love, someone who respected me. But I have made a life, such as it is, of protecting those that cannot protect themselves from others who would prey on them. I could never choose someone who victimized others, and those are generally the only kind of men who are stuck on the fringes like me. That isn’t to say that I haven’t lain with a few, especially when I was younger and more foolish or hopeful. For my kind being hopeful pretty much is being foolish, but I suppose we’ve all been there.
The men I have the most in common with are really the Marshals, adventurers, or the few Knights who do the same kind of work that I do, tracking fugitives or stolen goods. But those men are considered heroes while I… Well, I take satisfaction in knowing that what I choose to spend my life doing is good. And the gratitude of those I’ve helped is enough to keep my head out of a noose at the first false accusation. At least there are those who will speak for me if ever I need it.
In fact everything good thing in my life has come from those I’ve worked for. The monks who taught me to read did so in payment for the illuminated manuscript I recovered for them, one of my very first jobs. The leather armor I wear came from a Tanner whose wife had been raped. I swear I turned the men over to the Sherriff, if they were a little less than whole when they arrived, well… they were alive. There are dozens of various merchants that still owe me for one job or another, which is my form of wealth. Anything I have may be taken from me, if I am not careful, but I can get nearly anything I need just by calling in a favor.
I am proud of the work I do, and have never taken payment beyond what someone could part with without pain. Good will is far more valuable to me than gold ever could be.
When I say that I like my life, I am not trying to sell you something. But I suppose it is only natural to long, just a bit, for those things we cannot have.
The things that we can have? Like my friend, Jayla, home safe and sound? Those are the things worth fighting for.
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