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The Slaga Saga

By: Slaga

Slaga has little memory of his early childhood besides vague, fearsome images. He remembers vividly, however, the events following a particularly nasty fall in his forest home.

He woke up on one of the following mornings in a bed softer than he'd ever experienced. The two humans tending to him he'd soon be calling mother and father. They raised him for a few years and he discovered that they both descended from rather impoverished but educated and noble families in the area's military-aristocracy. They passed on much of what they'd learned to him: everything from agriculture to metallurgy to taxation economics. He learned energetically.

His father, an elder man, brought him to the town's royal council meetings where Slaga watched in awe every other week as his father, a man with whom he shoveled manure and did other chores, was well-respected by the finely dressed, made-up, and crisp-spoken aristocrats.

His mother, a young but retired shield-maiden of the region, didn't care much for the public life. She would take Slaga to hunt or fish for game they would cook together in increasingly creative ways.

His happy existence was suddenly interrupted one fine morning when a group of well-armored elves and men approached the front gate. As was his custom, Slaga's father went to greet the men. As was not the custom, they cut him down on the spot.

Slaga's mother heard the commotion from the clothesline and quickly ran to grab the packs prepared for that weekend's hunting trip. The murderers approached the house down the road between the front fields with weapons threateningly at the ready as Slaga darted past them among the crops. They met at the edge of the woods as their burning estate belched smoke into the sky behind them. With one solemn look back, they fled into the wild and the beginning of a new life.

[From here on out it's all Slaga's own tale. He weaves it well and you'll find out if you ask him.]

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