An introduction! non-ME

[Peter Remling]

My Lords, my name is Peter Grimsby and I was born in Edmunsbury. I claim no nobility in my lineage, in fact I am a bastard. My father was a wandering man-at-arms. My mother a servant for a local merchant.

What I know of my father is little, as I remember meeting him only once when I was eight, and I was filled with the hate of a small boy who felt deserted.

Large for my age at thirteen, I joined up to fight in the Holy War. I am not embarassed to admit the bounty offered, not an eternal afterlife, was my real reason for joining. I left almost all the bounty with a friend to give to my mother and to explain where I had gone. I never saw my mother again.

After monthes of travel, during which we were drilled in the use of pikes, we arrived in Tyre. Several days later found me standing up to a mounted charge, something which no amount of training can prepare you for. I was one of the few who didn't break and run and miraculously, my pikehead found the torso of an oncoming horse. Several things happened then, the horse went down, my pike haft snapped and the small wiry rider was catapulted on top of me.

We got up at the same time and squared off. He was at least 15 years my senior, wearing maille and had the benefit of one of those nastily curved swords. I stood in a leather byrnie carring the four foot length of my broken haft. To say I was at a disadvantage was an understatement.

The fall must have dazed him as I was able to parry the first several blows. Then as hs steadied himself, his blows came stonger and finally the remains of my haft were ripped from my hands.

I backed away, attempting to avoid the inevitable or hoping he'd prefer a more honorable opponent then a mere boy but he came on apparently seeking vengence for his slain mount. I noticed some movement to my right but was concentrating on my soon-to-be executioner. A swordarm slashed downward causing a fountain of blood to erupt from my adversaries leg.

Stepping out of the way, I allowed my savior to close with my ex-oponent. The man who came to my aid was young, maybe 6 years my senior. He too, might have been outclassed by our opponent experience but for the wound on his leg. They battled round and round in their left ward dance, as the sun grew inexplicitly hotter. Slowly at first, the desert nomad's attack became less fierce. Blood now stained his entire pants leg and he left crimson footprints in the sand.

A sudden flurry of steel left the desert dweller dead in the sand and my savior went on to his next opponent. I followed, staying well behind him for I had no safe place to go.

A short time later the enemy retreated leaving us to our own devices. Following the example of others. I scavenged an ornate shamshir, a dagger and several rings from the body of one of the fallen Easterners. Even in my tender years I knew it would be impossible to keep the shamshir without someone else older, more experienced or just tougher taking it from me. I stashed the rings and put the dagger in my belt. Catching up with the young man, who had come to my rescue I offered him the shamshir.

He accepted the weapon and we exchanged names. He even asked me to dine with him that hight, unfortuneately I had guard duty and was unable to go.

Some days later, found me again on the line. This time I had a new pike, the dagger and some experience on my side. Our line was thinner now but those of us left were the tougher for it. Pike in hand we turned the first charge, The second and third were progressivly harder until the foruth broke our line, and the horsemen laid about us with sword and axe.

After forcing us back a pace, reinforcements came in to support us. While I watched, one of our supporters, was struck down by one of the now unimpeded horsemen. I ran forward before the downed man could be finsihed off and thrust my bloody pike into the side of his horse. Both horse and man went down and a drew my dagger and pounced on the downed horsemen, killing quickly, if none too cleanly.

I dragged the man who had been struck down, back to camp and summoned aid. I finally had the time to get a good look at him. It was the same young man who had come to my aid just days earlier .

He regained consciousness within a few minutes and recognizied me immedieately. His wounds were not too serious and was allowed, with help, to return to his tent.

The following day I visited him at his tent, where we sat and talked for hours. We became friends in that session and it was repeated whenever we both had free time. When his wounds had healed, he began training me in the use of the sword and shield. One of his hobbies was archery and this too I learned. I must admit I became hooked on archery and even traded some rings and a gemstone for one of those fine short curved bows, made of horn and sinew, captured by one of our men.

When I became accomplished with the sword, he gave me this fine blade strapped to my side.

Not all I learned was martial, reading and writing came next followed closely by horsemanship.

Two years after our meeting, my friend left for his home in Wales. Upon completion of my term I was to travel to his father's home where I would be assured of employment.

Several monthes later I received word that the ship he was traveling on, went down in a storm, with no survivors. I decided then and there that I needed to come away from the East a wealthy man.

You may have heard stories that jewels lay about the sands, just waiting to be picked up. Well if this is true I must have been in the wrong part of the desert. As you gentlemen know, to make a fortune takes not only opportunity but foresight as well.

Scavaging for gems, jewelry, arms and armor from the dead was not the answer. They are not easy to come by and when you do get a supply you have to guard it and transport it. That's wher ethe problem arises, for Europe is full of small roads, where heavy tolls are charged. By the time the average traveling man gets home from the East, he has little to show for his efforts.

This is not to say I didn't collect my share. I did as well as any man I'd met, but what I needed was an edge over the others and something that didn't appear too valuable to toll collectors and then one day if stared me right in the face.

That day, I was again facing the enemy, this time I was mounted. A tribesman charged me and in battling we became separated from the rest of the fighting. We were well matched, my opponent and I, and we fought for a goodly time, wth neither taking the advantage. Finally a lucky blow of mine clipped his forehead and as the blood ran in his eyes, blinding him, I killed him.

His horse was the finest stallion of that wiry breed I'd ever seen, and a plan came to me then.


When my term was over, I took ship leaving the East behind. My ship landed in Nice and I took an overland route to Boulogne. All the way were tolls, and a man with two heavily ladened horses was charged mightily.

Had any of those toll collectors looked farther than the packs of goods I carried they might have taken note of the beautiful little grey stallion.

At Boulogne, we took ship to Dover. I sought out families who recently had a son or father in the East and were involved in the breeding of horses. Eventually getting a good offer for the grey, I sold him and purchased goods to sell.

Considering my arms, mount and skills, I plan to sell my services as guard, not for coin, but instead, for having my goods transported to some of the fine city markets.

I also plan on searching for my one surviving relative, my father.

So Gentlemen, do I get the job?

[kaelln]

Very well done, sir!