Xylaire

Edit: Hi, if you're reading this, I have decided RP is too much for me to get into. Kind of awkward considering I put the effort into typing all this while tying in some lore of Vectra, but it's just a large thing to get into, and generally outside of my comfort zone. Thought I would try something new, but decided against it. Hope you like the story below if interested anyways, took a bit to think of it all.

Xylaire was born on the island of Strast to a single, frail mother named Enoki. Their names sharing the same as some common, mushrooms seen in the local fauna. Life was difficult for them, and early in life, days without food was a common occurrence. His mother would often leave him to stay in their cloth-tented home in the makeshift slums of Strast' shores, as she would leave most nights, and not return till the morning. She would usually greet Xylaire warmly each morning with food of varying quality and quantity, though other times he would have to wait till noon before she returned, exhausted more than usual, with little to show for it. During this time, Xylaire often watched the shipyards just down the shores. Modest ships came and went; tough looking Sailors doing whatever they wanted, with many large monsters being stripped for meat and large green scales. Women could be seen trying to catch the attention of any who would take them. There were many other children as well; most awaiting the return of their mothers, few of which knew their fathers, and others, still eking out a life with no parents at all- The Thieves.
 

Occasionally everyone would move to different islands with the shifting tides, when much of the islands, particularly the lower slums and ports, became submerged. Each time, the new slums area was made their home. When Xylaire was 6 years old, one day his mother left at night- like she often did, but she never came back. Days went by as he kept waiting for her, to no avail. Eventually, he had to find a way to live on his own. No one would take a child for hard labor, though there were some offers from very unnerving men and women who wanted children like him for nothing good. Left with no choice, Xylaire joined The Thieves. A ragtag group of orphans mostly, who mustered a living together by stealing whatever they could, and occasionally ratting out the plans of sailors and aristocrats from Strast trying to rip off others. This was their most profitable form of income.

Years went by, and Xylaire had grown into a young man. Now 14, he was among the oldest members of group that hadn't gotten caught, or made off for a better living once they were old enough to do meaningful work. Over the years Xylaire had learned of the long history of The Scaled Forest of Vectra; the rumored origins of the Scalebacks he had seen dismembered on the shores and docks of the islands, and how they had all ended up on these forsaken islands. Of the Druids and the Elves who left them all for dead on the forest floor centuries ago, and of the hatred between our peoples.
 

Xylaire and The Thieves had moved from slums of the shores to a more profitable location several years prior; living in the streets of Strast. The affluent had long ago made a more permanent residence here. An elevated stone city, so that they may avoid the rising tides, away from the dregs of the southern shores. One day, Xylaire spotted some priests getting off of a ship, carrying an ornate white and gold chest. There were three Priests, one of which looked more important than the others, leading the way, while the other two carried the chest behind him. A risky hit to be sure. They must be important figures visiting Strast, but from the looks of it, anything from in or on that chest would be worth more than the group of thieves would make in a month, and so the choice was made for them. Xylaire had some of the children among the thieves scurry around the priests, playing tag, while he walked inconspicuously past them. Pilfering one of the golden chains during the distraction turned out to be simple enough, but just when he thought he had pulled it off, the head priest turned around and stared at him, scroffing- "A thief huh? GUARDS!!"
 

Not even a moment later, several well groomed, leather clad soldiers with shoulder plates surrounded Xylaire, having come from the nearby groups of sailors. They were clearly veteran warriors, so there was no chance to run or hide. After a few moments of intense struggling, Xylaire was pinned down, and the chain taken away. The head priest denounced the theft as an affront to "The Order" or something like that, but Xylaire didn't understand much of it. He was soon taken away by the soldiers, and thrown onboard a ship, in the cells below deck. "Thieves get special treatment from our crew. I wonder how long you'll last when faced with real Thieves.", the guard stated, before slamming the cell door shut and leaving him to the darkness. Several days with little to no food, and barely enough water to stay alive, Xylaire had made land. When forced out of the cells below deck and onto the shoreline, their destination had become clear: The Scaled Forest, Vectra.
 

It all made sense now to him now. Those soldiers were actually a part of the Excursion crews that hunted Scalebacks. Those priests must have been making a deal with the aristocrats of Strast. The Thieves they had mentioned, were a species of Scaleback that traveled in packs, killed swiftly and ran off with people dead or alive still hanging from their jaws; and Xylaire was among others to be used as human fodder for the excursions. Days, weeks, months and years went by, and somehow, Xylaire had managed to survive. It wasn't some expert prowess on battlefield against these ferocious creatures that kept him alive, no. It was mostly dumb luck, while those around him were taken first during the hunts. Unimaginable horrors and certain death befell many around Xylaire for the next 8 years. Injuries being common among those who managed to survive. While his constitution improved the longer he survived the harsh conditions, is body was scarred and weary from the battles, and from the fear. Xylaire knew he had to break free soon. He could take no more.
 

The modest relationships he had made with his ships cell guards had awarded him some meager benefits; mostly in the forms of better food and regular water. Not fighting imprisonment after each excursion for so long had made the guards lax around him. One day, they happened to forget to lock the cell after he had shut his own gate on the way back to Strast. This was his chance- an opening he won't likely see again soon. Xylaire snuck out of his cell during the night, just across the room, to wear the Scaleback scales were kept. These ones were stacked in barrels and crates, easily accessible to any free man. Having stolen a dozen or so scales, and gone back to his cell, Xylaire waited to reach Strast' docks. The Sailors from the docks were trusted laborers, guaranteed by the aristocrats of Strast to handle goods however they were ordered- so theft was never a worry for the crew, and the guards took to the streets upon landing. Leaving his cell, and following behind the Sailors up to the main deck- much to the surprise of this excursions other survivors- Xylaire jumped off into the sea as the sailors went down the ships ramp to the docks themselves. No one suspected a thing at the time, so there was plenty of time to escape.
 

Using the green scales he had stolen as bargaining chips down at the southern docks of the slums, Xylaire was able to barter passage away from the islands and forests he had known his entire life. Where he was headed, he did not care. Away from here was all that mattered, and what awaited him in this new chance at life, he couldn't wait to see.