I was soon accepted into House Redoran, and my mother was pretty proud of me. Probably too proud. I didn't go to Athyn's class anymore, being too busy as councillor Venim's page. Or, at least until the fiery councillor died, and was replaced by his brother. All young hirelings in the House had to spend five years in a councillor's service, and I was no different. Close to the end of those years, my fourth, to be exact, I wondered why I was even in the House; I got no money for my service, being a page, and my family needed money. I should have gotten a job. There I was in Bolvyn's manor, getting fed and clothed while my family starved. My own damned fault. I paid for my selfishness.
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I'll put the actual story here in a while; I just needed to start this back up.
This post has been edited by Dantrag: Feb 8 2006, 02:47 AM
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"Its when murder is justice that martyrs are made"
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