Squeedlbrock - Jay
Full Name: Squeedlebrock Starlinblickbau IV
WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO
DO WITH YOUR LIFE?
Squee wriggled uncomfortably in the stiff
highbacked chairs that were prevalent in the City of Order School of
Grammer and Mathematics. Despite his protestations his parents
insisted on his attending school. He even tried posing his argument
in the framework of his parent’s favorite point of conversation, his
transition into the “Family Business.” His arguments were pointless
and he knew it. As pointless as the exercise he was now awaiting.
These meetings seemed ridiculous but they were part of the school
experience. He wrapped and unwrapped his dangling legs around the
legs of his chair, every fiber of his 15 year old self screaming for the freedom that
comes with the final bell.
Squeedlbrock - Jay
Full Name: Squeedlebrock Starlinblickbau IV
WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO WITH YOUR LIFE?
Squee wriggled uncomfortably in the stiff highbacked chairs that were prevalent in the City of Order School of Grammer and Mathematics. Despite his protestations his parents insisted on his attending school. He even tried posing his argument in the framework of his parent’s favorite point of conversation, his transition into the “Family Business.” His arguments were pointless and he knew it. As pointless as the exercise he was now awaiting. These meetings seemed ridiculous but they were part of the school experience. He wrapped and unwrapped his dangling legs around the legs of his chair, every fiber of his 15 year old self screaming for the freedom that comes with the final bell.
Finally the door to Herr Alminstrasser’s office opened and the burly man ushered a curly headed ball of tears unceremoniously into the hall. Before Squee could identify what was going on, he was buffeted sideways by a jovial slap on the back and bespittled cry of “Welcome, my boy.”
Herr Alminstrasser ushered the reluctant Squee firmly to another extremely uncomfortable highbacked wooden chair. After seating himself he barked in his usual gravely murmer, “well boy spit it out; what do you want to do with your life?”
Squee flinched half expecting another slap on the back, and then peered over a small lacquered sign with the word “Counselor” painted in neat white letters on it. He stammered, "I…don’t really know…jeweler I guess?"
Herr Alminstrasser stoked his thick beard and spat out a dismissive “bah, that’s no way to decide your future he continued. Why do you want to be a jeweler?”
Squee knew this answer; his parents had given him this answer a 100 times over. He sullenly recited, “my father is a jeweler, and his father before him, I have a natural inclination towards the metallurgic arts, I even have a jeweler’s hands.” This last phrase he emphasized as his parents usually did by raising his hands for all to see.
With uncharacteristic speed Herr Alminstrasser grasped a thin wooden ruler from along the edge of his desk and swiftly brought it across the raised knuckles of Squee’s left hand. After gently replacing the ruler to the edge of his desk Herr Alminstrasser growled, “No, why do YOU want to be a jeweler?”
Squee rubbed his still stinging knuckles and admitted “I don’t really want to be a jeweler.”
Herr Alminstrasser stroked his beard again and stated “maybe we should start from the beginning. Tell me about yourself.”
Squee immediately launched into a story. “My parents aren’t actually my parents. I am in fact not even a gnome. I am in fact over 300 years old. I am an elf who had a terrible run in with an evil wizard who cast a shrinking curse on me.” Herr Alminstrasser reached for his ruler and cleared his throat. Squee stopped in mid sentence recognizing his fable wasn’t appreciated.
After a brief pause he spoke again, “Three years ago I began to experience a change. I’m so lucky my parents have taught me to control it. I am a werew…” Squee stopped again. He could see from the look on Herr Alminstrasser’s face this line wasn’t going to fly either. Squee sat back, and reluctantly began again.
"Once when I was very young, my family took a trip into the country. We took these trips every few weeks or so. So we were by the outer wall, and me being a spritely little fellow, I wandered off. I found a hole in the fence and, knowing no fear, snuck through. My parents didn’t find me until the next day. I don’t remember much about it, but when they found me I was 20 feet up in a tree curled up with a baby Kobald humming softly to myself."
“Now that’s more like it, my boy!” shouted Herr Alminstrasser “Keep Going.”
Squee continued on. "Well, I’ve never been very popular in school here. But usually I can sneak my way around Garth Norwood and his gang of bullies. A couple of years ago they caught up to me and another kid and cornered us behind the stables of the Wilding Bar. They held me down as they started to torture the other kid. Usually they’ll just give you a black eye and then everyone goes on about their day. But that day something was different, Garth pulled a knife from his boot and stared as us with a wicked sneer. I was scared and started to panic. I was sure that I was going to die that day. Then as I looked into Garth’s eyes some kind of calm came over me, and a singular thing filled my mind. A lullaby my mother used to sing to me almost every night. I don’t even know what the words mean but in that moment those words and that melody seemed to fit into the movements and sounds of everyone around me. I couldn’t tell why but I started singing, at first I wasn’t even sure it was coming from me. Then to my surprise it seemed like the mood of everyone around shifted. The haughty disdain and garrulous laughter seemed to melt and a sense of calm fell over everything. This broke down the moment Garth dropped his knife, I saw my chance and I made a break for it.”
As Squee finished his tale, he let out a weighty sigh as though he were finally resting after an arduous journey.
Herr Alminstrasser peered closely at him and then abruptly stood up. He began sifting through a multitude of papers and small boxes strewn about the table behind him and at length produced a small blank card and a ink stained stamp. He plucked the quill from its resting spot at the corner of his desk and began scribbling instructions that he simultaneously explained to Squee. “My boy, I’m going to recommend that you begin taking music classes immediately and should probably start taking extra sessions in archery." He finished scribbling on his small piece of paper and brought the stamp down with a resounding thud, then slid the paper over to me. Squee couldn’t process Herr Alminstrasser’s “handwriting” but the stamped word jumped out at him.
"What do you mean adventurer,” Squee protested his voice sounding more like a whine than he intended.
Herr Alminstrasser leaned in close to Squee and sternly hissed. “I am your guidance counselor and this completes your career counseling sessions. That is all.”
Squee melted out of his chair and headed for the door, all the while staring at the small piece of paper. My parents are going to kill me, I’m supposed to keep up the family business. I can’t be an adventurer. Something clicked in the back of Squee’s brain and stirred a feeling that had been repressed deep down. "I can’t keep up the family business. I’m going to be an adventurer."
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