Chapter 1. Start

A child no more than seven was on the cobblestone street pandering for food and spare change. He was white, had blond hair (currently dirty) and green eyes, around his neck was a strange pendant. Except those eyes of his had a cunning and intensity that did not rightfully match his age.

He was a bastard and grew up on the streets, although not much older than a new born, he had kind people that would watch out for him. Most of what he knew was taught by the old man(grandpa) and Tabatha from Olive inn.

The old man taught him to be street smart but Tabatha read to him stories that breed an adventurous spirit whilst also giving him leftovers when she could. After the sun started to go down, the child expertly moved through the streets to a particular alley way. It was filled with junk, had a medium sized dirty puddled not too far behind. However, behind that puddle was a small cottage, the boy carefully moved past the junk; he tip toed around the puddle and made his way to the cottage.

Inside was about the size of a very small classroom. The old man lied in bed and slowly opened his eyes when he heard the boy. "My child, how did you fare?" The boy had acquired two loaves of bread and 5 iron, which was not bad at all. He gave the old man both loaves but the man weakly sat up and gave one of them back to the boy. "Did you make sure to stay away from nobles or adventurers?" "Yes, grandpa," the boy said.

He looked at his grandfather's increasingly fragile figure and then his eyes moved towards the scars covering his body, but one in particular looked far more heinous than the others. The old man smiled noticing the boy's stare and told him not to worry. Even though he was young the boy knew that the gash running down from his gramp's ribs to opposite pelvic side was no joke. "Winter is coming, Shawn do you know what that means?"