The Story of Marucs Pompei (no relation to any other Pompei or Pompeii)
Nineteen years ago in a small village in Altene, a young girl of
seventeen worked in the only inn, in the village. One night a group of travelers came to
the village. They appeared to be a group of ‘a-wall’ soldiers, though they were
not Altene. After many hours of drinking and joking one of the men grabbed the young
waitress and took her out back. It was so busy and loud that no-one noticed. The man took
the young girl beat her and then rapped her. A few months later I was born.
I am the product of a rape. Because of this, I was never treated like a
true Altene. My mother did not want to take care of me so she left me at her parents
house. As I grew up I always felt bad. I never looked like anyone else, and I thought
something was wrong with me. No one ever told me who I really was. So for the next
nineteen years, I lived a sad painful life. I was an outcast, not even the people who
raised me (my grandparents) treated me very well.
Then late one night I was repairing the fence around our yard. Some
kids I knew from school walked by. One had blood coming from his nose. I heard one of them
mention something about the Inn, in our village. Because I knew they wouldn’t talk to
me I decided to go to the inn to see what had happened. I was just about at the inn when I
heard a muffled scream from the back of the inn. I peeked around the corner and I saw the
jerk of the village. He had been known to be violent before. He was holding the lady (my
mother) that would come over to my house and talk to my parents (my grandparents).
He had his hand over her mouth and was holding a knife to her neck. I
knew I had to do something. I looked around and saw a large rock. I picked it up and held
it like a battering ram. I stepped around the corner and charged. He must have caught me
out of the corner of his eye because he turned to face me. But it was too late for him. I
slammed into him, knocking him to the ground, and knocking the wind out of him. But then
something came over me. I was filled with the rage of nineteen years of abuse. Still
holding onto the rock, I held it high and then smashed it down on his head killing him
instantly. By this time, the girl had ran back into the inn and came back with a
constable.
He saw what I had done, and became furious. The man was his father. He
told me that I was to be hanged at noon the next day.
I sat in my cell awaiting my demise, when the door opened and the
Priest came in. I expected him to tell bless me and give me a prayer, but I got the shock
of my life. He told me the truth. He told me who I was and who my mother was. He told me
everything. But he told me he didn’t want to see me die, so young. He couldn’t
let me die when I had just found out who I was. He snuck me out of my cell, gave me a sack
full of supplies and sent me to a friend in a distant village. His friend then took me
here to Iridine.
So here I am. Young and all alone in a strange city, wondering what will happen next....