The man begins to tell his story, with no flamboyance or embellishment or, pomp and circumstance. He is sincere in his words, clear and concise. Besides the crackling fire, surrounded by friends, a place Simon finds his happy place. Amongst the shadows and teeth, this is where the man found joy. Anyway, let's begin ...
There was no applause of thunder from the Gods when the man was born. No choir of angels to greet him or even smiling faces. From the beginning, this man was unwanted, unwarned and entirely confused as to his reason. Left a mewing babe in a barn, no sign of his parents, survival began early for Simon. Thankfully, a small saving grace was the lungs on this lad, coming in handy both now and many more times in the future. The loud bawling from the newborn alerted the nearby farmhands, who, taking pity on the squirming bundle took him in arm, wrapped him in cloth and, delivered him to the nearby orphanage.
The next 12 or so years, were unremarkable. He slept, ate and grew in this dishevelled little place. A quiet child was this boy, nameless at first beyond "Foundling", he worked tirelessly and always did as told. Passing the days spending more time with the staff than the children, much to their dismay as the constant questions were asked by the boy who stared at everything with curiosity. Well-known was Simon for his gentle tug of a robe, followed by an innocuous question about anything around him.
As the boy entered his teens, his known world changed as the orphanage he'd grown up in shuttered its doors for the final time. Dressed in barely serviceable clothing and self-made sack shoes, the next chapter of his story began as he found little solace in the cobbled streets of Elturel. Sleeping rough and forging scraps from discarded wastes he did his best to make it from day to day. Unfortunately, his boundless curiosity became unsatiated and, as the old adage goes, the devil makes work for idle hands.
