Anthony Foundling's page

As far back as Anthony could remember life had one rule. Don't get caught. Stealing bread? Don't get caught. Slipping through a gangs territory? Don't get caught. It was a pretty simple rule and it was one that Anthony learned to live by very quickly. She didn't know why she had to, for a while. She didn't understand the complexity of being a child no one wanted at first. All that mattered was survival.
Until the day she came across a bard.

The story he was telling seemed to bore many of those around him to tears but to Anthony, who had never heard it's like before, the complex weave he wove called. She sat in her hiding spot and listened well past any reasonable hour, when others had vanished and it seemed like the Bard was performing for no one. His tales of heroic warriors going to save helpless damsels kept her occupied long after the bard had finally given up and moved on. She dreamt of being in such a story, of slaying monsters with a long thin blade and a funny quip, of saving lives... Naturally she placed herself in the heroes shoes, the person rescuing the Damsel. Not that she knew what a damsel was at the time.

Still, on that day Anthony had found something that mattered to her just as much as survival, if not more! She wanted to be a hero. The fame and coin was a nice bonus but in truth she simply wanted to adventure, to be someone saving lives. It was a goal that would carry her beyond the streets, driving her to become something more then a simple Vagabond child.

From that day forth Anthony did her best to seek out opportunity. And where there were none to be had she made her own. First was swordfighting. She could ill afford a trainer and she was far to young to become a soldier, but time was an enemy to her young mind. So she found a stick and a rich merchant with an open yard and too much free time on his hands. There she watched the pudgy man as he learned from his instructor. Then she would find a private place and proceed to practice everything she had seen.

Next was reading and writing. Though Anthony was loathe to admit it, the truth was obvious. No Hero could be a Hero without the basics. So she found a school where the merchants sent their kids and, sitting in the rafters, proceeded to study alongside them. She had to steal paper, ink and a quill now and again but the students were disorganized enough that some missing supplies was never remarked upon.

And she learned. Oh boy did she learn. She spent so much time practicing and studying that she never had a chance to seek another bard out for more stories. She was too busy readying herself for her own. It was not enough though. No matter how much she practiced and how much she learned there was a clear barrier between her and her first real adventure. All the skills in the world would not put a sword in her hands. She needed coin.

This last part was the hardest. She barely managed a couple copper pennies a week, just enough to feed her and nothing more. She could try and steal from a wealthier merchant but there was a risk there. Merchants with enough gold to steal from went to the guard when it went missing. It made her decision difficult but she saw no other way. Anthony needed a job. Unfortunately thieving wasn't exactly a marketable skill. Door to door she went asking for work, risking pain and worse should a particular person take offense at her question. Merchants, craftsman and even a gang when she started to feel desperate. They all said no. She was too young, too small, too weak, too stupid. Their reasons varied but in truth came from the same place. They saw nothing but the Vagabond. No matter that she knew her numbers and letters, that she had practiced day and night with that wooden stick till she had some actual muscle.

It frustrated Anthony. She nearly gave up. Weeks of searching turned up nothing. Anthony felt as if time was running out. Barely twelve, she knew that the longer it took the less likely she was to break free of the streets.This time it was not determination, nor intelligence, nor wit that got Anthony what she sought. All those were important things to have as a Hero but there was on more that she needed to truly thrive in such a dangerous business. By pure happenstance Anthony was overheard pleading her case to an alchemist, telling the older man that she could and would do her best if only for a few silver a week. A man with pointed ears and ancient looking eyes entered the shop at that time and strode to the counter with a ticket. The Alchemist, seeing business at hand, shooed the girl away and went into the back to get whatever the elf was here for.

But while he was back there, the strangely young looking man with old eyes turned to the girl. "You can write." He said. "Can you do it well?"

Anthony was stunned and for a moment didn't know how to reply. When it became clear by an arched brow that the man was waiting for an answer, she quickly dove into her pocket with one hand and pulled out her work for the week. She offered the paper to him. He studied it for a moment, paying no mind to the dirt or the wrinkles, and then handed it back to her. "I've seen worse." He reached into a pocket and produced a slip of paper of his own. He offered it to her. "Go to this address tomorrow morning. Sunrise. If you are late, the door will be locked. If you are on time I will have work for you."

At that moment the Alchemist returned with a package and offered it to the elf. Seeing that Anthony was still there, the man behind the counter shooed her away. The girl scrambled out of the store clutching the small, thin paper with instructions tightly to her chest.

The next day Anthony arrived at the address an hour early. She had been up half the night cleaning herself at one of the local wells. A good impression was important, she had over heard once. She had already ruined the first when she met the man but now, hopefully, she could do better. The building was at the end of the street. It was surprisingly small, only a single story, and it's two windows were devoid of light. Had she come to early? There was no turning back now. Without hesitation, Anthony knocked... Or tried too.

The door swung open before her fist could connect.

Surprised, she stepped inside and looked around. As she did lights sprung to life, candles that had been dead now flickering with fire. Anthony nearly jumped. The door closed behind her. For a moment she stood in the hallway, uncertain what to do. Then she followed the light.

The light lead to the first room on the left. Opening the door, Anthony came face to face with something... Fascinating. Anthony had never seen so many books in her life. It was beyond amazing. There was also a desk, a small desk with a few candles near it and a chair sized for someone of her height. Anthony approached and saw a note. It simply said, 'Start at A. Carefully copy each text. When you are out of paper, you are done for the day.'

She looked up to the shelf of books and saw at the very top the letter A on the wood. Her eyes widened in surprise as she turned to look at all the books. Every wall was lined with shelves from floor to ceiling. She spent a moment, and only a moment, wondering just what the point was. Then she went to work copying the first book. And so each day went. At first the work was so strange that Anthony was alone in that home from sun up till sundown before she ran out of paper. As the weeks passed though her hand grew quicker and with it her mind. She went from finishing a book in two weeks to a book in a few days. She also started to learn from the books. Each text had fascinating things within that Anthony had never heard of before.

After six months, Anthony had successfully managed to use up all the paper provided to her in hours, leaving her plenty of time to return to her other tasks. For the first week she was worried that perhaps the man might not pay her but at the end of seven days, after the work had been done, she found a pouch waiting at the door with a silver coin. And so she found after each week another silver coin waiting for her. At first she hoarded them like treasure but as time went on she came to spend them, carefully. She still saved as much as she could, her goal always within sight, but she could not resist buying better clothing and food now that she could.

Three years passed. In that time, both the amount of work she was asked to do and the amount of silver she was paid increased. She even learned a couple languages simply from inscribing them! At the end of three years she had finished the entire room and had never felt more proud or sad. She had never seen the elven man again but he still gave her this job and for it to be ending so soon did bother her so. If she had put any thought into it perhaps she might have worried less though. On the day she finished the last book a note was waiting for her at the door. 'Return tomorrow. Start room 2.'

Room 2? Curious, Anthony turned back around and followed the hallway to the second door. It opened beneath her touch. Another room waited for her, another desk more appropriately sized now that she had grown, and another four walls covered in books. Smiling Anthony headed back out again, happy to know she would still have work on the morrow.

She would learn the next day, however, that room 2 was nothing like room 1. The books were not written in other languages. In fact, they barely had any words at all. For the most part they written in numbers. Complex equations littered each page and it was hard enough simply writing them to paper again that for the first few days Anthony did nothing but copy. Her mind was too quick to be satisfied at that, however. Just as she had the new languages she began to absorb what she was writing. It was slow going. Each bit took months. But by the end of another year, after successfully copying four books, Anthony had come to understand exactly what she was scribing this time.

Rather then books on any random subject beneath the sun Anthony was copying to a page magic. Real Magic. It wasn't long after this revelation that, upon finishing her work one day, she opened the first book again to see if she could make heads or tails of it. After that came trying to replicate it. Then came trying the spells in question out. They... did not work... But they did not fail to produce any result either. Instead of the intended consequence, creating a small orb of light, Anthony had created several small bubbles. It was enough to convince Anthony she was on the right track though and so she continued her experiments, careful to make sure nothing was out of place when she was done.

After seven years of working for the man without seeing hide nor hair of him, Anthony was certain she never would. Clearly he came here, who else would he trust to check the work and leave coin, but just as clearly he waited until Anthony was gone. At first this was strange. Anthony knew it wasn't like how most jobs went. As time went on she became used to it and started to learn that his absence was not, necessarily, a cruel thing. If anything the small kindnesses he showed by offering her comfortable chairs, ensuring the home was warm in the winter and even increasing her wage every single time he asked more work of her made him one of the kindest people she had ever met.

So on the day she heard of his death, Anthony was distraught. She had been on her way to the home to do another round of copying, while also puzzling out in her head a new spell, when a crier on the corner called out, "Wizard Salar slain in ally! Guards seek anyone with answers!"

She heard and saw the name so infrequently, since he didn't even sign his notes, that for a moment more Anthony kept walking. When it hit her, it hit her hard, and she spun about to stare at the crier on the corner. The young lad continued to yell about daily events and would likely get back to that story before long, but Anthony was running down the road long before he had finished the second headline. She arrived at the home and found the door unlocked once more. She swung it open, frantically looking for some sign that the crier was wrong.

Instead she found, waiting on the table where her coin normally sat, a pouch, a letter and a book. She dove for the second and opened it fast enough she almost tore the paper. What she saw was... typical of her employer. 'You are reading this because I am dead. This is the third such note I've written since I hired you. On the table is a pouch with your last payment and a spellbook I had made for you. Take them and leave this city. Tell no one of you worked for me. Be safe.'

Anthony felt numb. The world felt wrong. Her mind simply did not understand, nor did it want too. Instead of following the directions Anthony went to her desk in the second room. She was barely a third of the way through all the books. She sat down, holding the book left for her with her name written in gold lettering on the cover, and waited for the nightmare to end.

It was night when she was woken by a thumping sound Bleary eyed, she looked around the room for the source of the noise that had stirred her. She almost thought it was her imagination but then it happened again. Certain of what she heard this time Anthony carefully stood up and made her way toward the door. Peaking her head out, she looked left and right. The noise repeated itself. It was coming from across the hall, from a room she had never gone into before. Normally it was locked by tonight the door was ajar.

Anthony stepped forward, curious, worried. She peaked her head inside and she saw... Three men. Three large men, in fact. They were rifling through a room that looked almost exactly like the one she had left. Each one would pull a book off the shelves and then toss it aside. The thumping sound she had heard. Seeing the books treated that way annoyed Anthony and before her mind could process what she was about to do she kicked the door open further and conjured a spell. As light filled the air and her body glowed with magical light, she shouted, "What the hell are you doing to those books?"

The smallest turned to her and he offered her a wicked smile. "Ah. The apprentice. I was wondering when you'd turn up. You're... a bit young but hopefully you'll still be able to help us."

Apprentice? No, she was a scribe. Well, she had learned from Salar's books and he had left her a spellbook but that didn't really make her... "That really depends on who the hell you are. Don't try anything either," She scowled and raised a hand threateningly, "I can do more then make lights."

The small man, who was not that small, particularly compared to Anthony, continued smiling. "Of course, of course. I would never dream of it. Simply tell me where it is and there will be no trouble."

"Where... where what is?" Anthony demanded.

The smile flickered, faltered, but then reaffirmed itself. "IT. You know. You can't have been his apprentice for seven years and NOT know. Tell me where IT is... or we show you just how little we think of your magic tricks."

Anthony suddenly seemed to realize just how dangerous her predicament was. She wasn't helpless, particularly not with the magic armor clinging to her, but she was outnumbered and unarmed... and neither seemed to be a problem for the three thugs, she realized, as they drew blades. She took care to think of her next plan and then recalled that she had left her book in the other room. Damn it, she wasn't going to leave without it. She nodded slowly, "Alright. I'll... it's over here."

Anthony was not a good liar and she wasn't banking on them believing her. All she needed was a second of hesitation to grab the door and slam it shut behind her. She felt a satisfying click as the magic in the door locked itself immediately, something she had known would happen thanks to her ability to see the spell and how it worked. Then she ran. First she dove into the second room and grabbed her book, the pouch and even the note. Then she sprinted toward the front door. Just as she passed it, the door was smashed open behind her. Anthony did not look back, escaping into the open air of the night. Once more she kicked the door shut behind her, hoping it had the same enchantment as the others, and made feet through the streets.

She didn't stop moving for hours. It changed shape as her instincts kicked in and she found herself trying to hide rather then draw attention to herself, but she never stopped moving until she was certain no one had found her. Then, tired, her strongest magic expended for the day, Anthony found sleep in a back alley.

When the sun rose she was not ready to greet it but she forced herself too anyway. Bleary eyed, tired, and still worn down from the news of the day before Anthony spent a bit of time memorizing the spells she wanted ready for the day and then headed out. She was greeted by the din of the crowd moving through the streets and the sound of the criers. For a while she put them both out of her mind, her goals already planned out. Then she heard something she had not expected to hear shouted from one of the young men waving papers about. "Apprentice kills master! Young woman implicated in the death of Wizard Salar."

That was not good. Anthony immediately nixed the first three stops she wanted to make and headed for the only blacksmith she knew of in this part of the city. He... bartered hard, sensing her desperation, and in the end she parted with 30 gold for something she knew he would have sold for 20. She didn't have time to argue though. She paid the price and then quickly made her way to the docks. The next part of her plan was going to be dicey and if she was caught it would mean death. But if she didn't do it, if she stayed here, it would mean being blamed for Salar's death. She couldn't bear the thought.

She made her way to the cities port and purchased herself passage on a ship. Then she did it again three minutes later. Each time she made herself very visible, though each time she was also careful to have her style noticeably different. The first time her book was in hand and her newest package carefully entangled in her bag, making it harder to discern what it was. The second time the book was away, the package neatly over her shoulder and her newest item comfortably rested on her hip for all to see.

Sure enough as she made her way through those arriving and departing she saw signs of the three from the night before. They were hard to miss, as big as they were. And sure enough they had spotted her too.

When time came for the ships to be boarded Anthony made her way to the docks. She spent a moment readjusting herself and then boarded... Then, the moment she was onboard the ship, she pointed toward the docks below and whispered. Bright lights flared to life on the dock and even a spark of fire. Everyone turned toward the noise and at that moment Anthony made herself vanish. The next trick was going to be harder. She ran for the edge of the ship, praying it would be close enough to roof jumping that she could make it, and then she leapt. She made it. Barely. Pulling her light frame up, Anthony quickly made her way through the crowd looking down at the docks and then off the ship again.

This time, careful to blend in, Anthony made her way to the last ship at the pier. Though she was loathe to put someone else in a poor position she managed to slip her hand into a pocket and come out with the ticket she needed. She boarded quickly and vanished below deck, ignoring the guilt she felt as the person behind her was told they couldn't come aboard. Hopefully the 25 pieces of gold she had left, more then double the price of the ticket, would make up for the theft. Now below deck she found a corner to sit in and waited. It was all she could do. Either they would come aboard and take her away or the ship would set sail.

She sat there and draped her new Rapier across her legs. It was just like the weapon the Bard had spoken of in the stories. It was the weapon she had been learning to use for seven years, though she had never picked one up. When she was certain no one else would approach, wary of the blade, she let herself curl up and mourn for a lost friend.

The ship left port undettered. She had made her escape and hopefully sent any pursuit on a wild goose chase to other cities. As for Anthony? She had to check the half of the ticket she had left to see what her destination was.

Pridon's Hearth. She had never heard of it. Hopefully she could do some good there to make up for the lack she had done here. Maybe, one day, even become a real Hero instead of a coward.