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Orin Yeis

Human Fighter of Odarous

Biography ...

The grey-haired auctioneer smiled at the group of men gathered before him. "Gentlemen, that concludes the auction of the Yeis properties. Please come to the front and settle your accounts with Mr. Lewis here."

Orin Yeis

portrait of Orin Yeis

Orin stood with his hands in the pockets of his faded overalls watching Mr. Lewis collect the signatures of the men who had just purchased his father's properties. Of course, Mr. Lewis had been right when he said that Orin couldn't run the farm himself. He was, afterall, "just a kid." But at fourteen summers, Orin felt he had already experienced more than any "kid" his age should.

Mr. Lewis gestured to Orin to join him. The slightly heavy man was red-faced and sweating from the evening sun. Orin noticed his bald spot before he rose from his seat

"Looks like you'll be enjoying a tidy little profit from the auction, son," said the auctioneer.

Mr. Lewis glanced at the auctioneer sideways and frowned.

"Uh, that is, if your father hadn't owed so much to the bank," he said, correcting himself.

"That's right, son," Mr. Lewis added. "There's just enough for you to get yourself from Tynr to Spur, if that's still where you want to go."

"Oh, yes sir," Orin said, shifting his weight, "my Pa used ta tell me all kinds a stories 'bout the Spur an' the knights there an' all. I think he'd like me ta go there now that he's gone."

"Alright then. I've arranged for you to ride with a wagon that will be heading in that direction. Now mind you, it won't be able to take you all the way there. You'll have to arrange for your own transportation once it arrives at its destination. But you're a smart kid, aren't you? You'll have no trouble at all. The wagon will be coming through town tomorrow, so you'd best be getting yourself together."

"Thanks a lot, Mr. Lewis. You been real kind ta me, sir."

"I'm glad to help you, Orin. You're a good kid and I wouldn't want to see anyone take advantage of your situation. Now go on and get your stuff together."

"I will, sir. Thanks again!" Orin said, and he ran into the farmhouse.

"Nice kid," said the auctioneer.

"Yes, but he's a dreamer like his father."

"His father would've been better to teach him the truth about the real world than to tell him fanciful stories about knights in shining armor."

"Maybe. But then we wouldn't be able to enjoy such a nice profit, would we?" Mr. Lewis winked.

Orin didn't sleep much that night. Though he knew he should be feeling more upset about the loss of the farm, the anticipation of travelling to a strange new city was all he could think about. When daylight finally broke, he walked around the farmhouse one last time, and made his way to the center of the village.

Orin took the quiet wooded pathway that led from one of the main roads in Tynr to the cemetary. He stood beside of a fresh mound of dirt and looked at the headstone resting there. He had been taught to read and write his own name and his parents' names. "Otilio 'Otis' Yeis" it said, along with some other words he wasn't able to make out. Next to his father's headstone were two much older looking headstones. "Ellesandra Yeis" was printed on the one that marked his mother's site, and the other he knew said "Amberlyn Yeis" though he couldn't read it. These two headstones were worn with age, but Orin thought they looked good after ten years. Or had it been eleven? He couldn't remember exactly. He had been old enough to learn that the sister that was supposed to be born never was. And he had been old enough to learn that his mother had gone with Amberlyn. And he remembered missing his mother and crying for her for weeks. So he had to have been three or four when it happened. If only the dates on the stones had been written with numbers instead of those blasted archaic symbols!

Looking around the cemetary, Orin noticed that many of the other grave sites in the area had flowers on them, and he felt guilty for not bringing any. He had considered taking some of the wildflowers that grew in the yard of the farmhouse, but since the farmhouse now belonged to someone else, he felt it would have been stealing. So instead he laid his hand on each stone and said goodbye to each quietly in his head.

Orin caught the wagon from Tynr and rode it as far as it would take him toward Spur. At each stop he had to negotiate his travelling arrangements with a new group, but eventually he made it to Spur. Since his arrival, he has met many interesting people and been influenced by each in some way.

The outspoken bard whose beau causes him feelings of jealously that he can't explain, and doesn't even recognize.

The leuian priest whose sense of honor he admires above all others and whom he would never want to disappoint.

The well-mannered knight whose confidence and charisma are unmatched.

The dark-skinned, dark-haired woman who seems "bad" on the surface, but yet is so pleasing to look upon.

The red-haired woman who always smiles and hugs him.

The noble hithual whose cheery eyes and hearty laugh make his heart ache for his father.

The woman of peace who is always so polite to everyone.

And everyone else he has met, no matter how briefly, because they have all given him something to learn.


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