02-26-2009, 09:57 PM
---Work in progress---
My name is Frank Blacksmith and I am a trader for Border World Exports. That is not the story I will be telling here. I want to talk about the time before now, what brought me here. In the end, its the journey and not the arrival that is worth telling.
I always dreamed of being an explorer, I blame my grandmother. She was always telling me stories about my grandfather. In her stories he was always a heroic figure, exploring the universe against all odds, fighting off hordes of aliens, narrowly escaping comets, supernovas, and so on. He was supposed to have discovered 10 systems and 20 or so jumpholes. He would return months after he set out, bringing back only tales and strange artifacts, the sale of which kept the family off the streets.
He was a fraud. I know that now. His story is a complex one and I will not tell it here. Suffice it to say he was a noble fraud, one that still inspires me to this day.
I was born on New London, I was not born to a great political family and nor to a trading family, with all the wealth that would entail. I was born in a brothel, son of a drunken mercenary and a whore. I suppose I should be grateful my father took me to my grandmother when he found out I existed, he was young at the time, and young men are often wary of children, even their own. He then was kind enough to provide for me. What little money was left after he filled his hold and himself with whiskey he sent to my grandmother. I only know of this from her, he vanished when I was 4. My grandmother maintained something had happened to him in the dark matter storm of 784 AS. I believe he simply found a perfect excuse never to return.
When I was 16 I ran away from my grandmother, to explore the universe, or so I thought. I stowed away on a trading ship, hoping that thusly I might see strange worlds, discover new systems and return a hero like my grandfather. That is where my story begins.
--
My name is Frank Blacksmith and I am a trader for Border World Exports. That is not the story I will be telling here. I want to talk about the time before now, what brought me here. In the end, its the journey and not the arrival that is worth telling.
I always dreamed of being an explorer, I blame my grandmother. She was always telling me stories about my grandfather. In her stories he was always a heroic figure, exploring the universe against all odds, fighting off hordes of aliens, narrowly escaping comets, supernovas, and so on. He was supposed to have discovered 10 systems and 20 or so jumpholes. He would return months after he set out, bringing back only tales and strange artifacts, the sale of which kept the family off the streets.
He was a fraud. I know that now. His story is a complex one and I will not tell it here. Suffice it to say he was a noble fraud, one that still inspires me to this day.
I was born on New London, I was not born to a great political family and nor to a trading family, with all the wealth that would entail. I was born in a brothel, son of a drunken mercenary and a whore. I suppose I should be grateful my father took me to my grandmother when he found out I existed, he was young at the time, and young men are often wary of children, even their own. He then was kind enough to provide for me. What little money was left after he filled his hold and himself with whiskey he sent to my grandmother. I only know of this from her, he vanished when I was 4. My grandmother maintained something had happened to him in the dark matter storm of 784 AS. I believe he simply found a perfect excuse never to return.
When I was 16 I ran away from my grandmother, to explore the universe, or so I thought. I stowed away on a trading ship, hoping that thusly I might see strange worlds, discover new systems and return a hero like my grandfather. That is where my story begins.
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