Prologue
Rhonin had always been different. Since his humble begging he had been unique. Flaming red hair and sharp features, he looked nothing like his mother, nor father. His father, a plump man around the age of 30 was a man with high expectations, not for his sons benefit, but for his own. He used Rhonin as a slave, tilling the fields, taking care of the animals with not even a room to live in. Instead, his dwelling was the barn, a rancid place that constantly gave off a less than pleasant odour. His clothes were made from rags and he owned nothing but the skin on his back. A deprived childhood was his, but thoughts of uprising, rebelling and escaping were not unheard of. The first time Rhonin tried to escape, his escapade was met with a riding crop and deprivation of food. The second time however, was far worse than anything he had ever encountered. 3 days alone in a trunk in the barn, with nothing but a few holes to breath through, a flask of water and nothing as sustenance. The boy came out of the trunk mal-nourished and paler than a ghost. Rhonin never tried to do anything out of place again. He almost met his end in that trunk and it was an experience he did not wish to be repeated. His mother on the other hand was a nice woman at heart, constantly restrained and forced into things by his father's threats and domineering nature. As an infant, Rhonin was taken care of by his mother with a kind heart and a purse full of gold. He was washed once a week, given handsome clothes and even taught to read and write, to a smaller extent. To Rhonin's misfortune however, his only mother died shortly after he reached the age of 9. Rhonin never found out why, instead, in a fit of rage on his fathers part, he was kicked out of the house and forced to live in the barn. That was the last time Rhonin ever ate a full meal, got a new coat, or looked at himself in the mirror.
Sesil, Rhonin's father did not take well to his wife's death. Soon after her passing, Sesil put his son to work as nothing more than a slave. On top of this, His father left regularly and returned to the farmstead with women Rhonin did not know, or care for. Normally they only stayed for 1 or 2 days… even a single night, but every time they left, Rhonin's father fell into fits of rage, throwing things at Rhonin and cursing, Sometimes saying things the boy did not know the meaning of, but he more or less knew were not positive comments. Rhonin always suffered when this happened, Being put to extra chores and given less and less to eat.
Rhonin never knew anything but the farm and his mother and father. Their residence was built a considerable way away from civilization. He never had a chance to play and laugh with other children, to sit in the sun and just talk about nothing. No, this was all so far away for the boy. Rhonin had only ever seen the "Floosies" his father picked up, and the occasionally messenger delivering parcels, letters and once even food. Every new face was strange, and sometimes Rhonin wondered if he's ever escape his little hell world. He hoped the day would come, Every day more than the last.
Rhonin finally reached the age of 14, and upon his birthday was granted a day free of chores, a large meal and by some sporadic act of incredible (For his father) Generosity, he received a small silver pendant, a coin that hung on a necklace. It shone in the sun like nothing he had every seen, the coin was completely smooth and round except for a few words in a foreign language engraved upon one of the coins faces. From what he understood, the coin read:
"Spero dum spero"
This was his only possession for months… Until something happened. Something he would never forget.