Race: Human
Class: Bard
Pronouns: She/Her
Backstory:
Several years ago, while on reconnaissance a detachment of the Baronial Mounted Patrol became alarmed at the sight of a dark, billowing cloud of smoke rising through the trees. Their investigation brought them to the edge of a decimated village. All that lay before them was charred ground and smoldering piles of rubble that used to be houses. The captain of the patrol dismounted and ordered his men to search the area for any person that remained alive. Though from the few scattered bodies lying around he feared the majority of villagers may have found a fate worse than death.
“Captain, over here” called one of the men waving his arms to indicate his position behind one of the piles of rubble. Making his way through the smoke the captain breathed shallowly to avoid choking. The smoked thinned some as the captain stepped through an alleyway to come face to face with his junior officer. Irritation grew as the captain faced his newest recruit, who stood dumb and mute.
“What?” he demanded.
“That”, the younger man pointed.
The captain’s eye followed the line of his officer’s arm to the ground about three feet away. There squatting on the ground was a small child stained with soot, drawing symbols in the dirt.
Kneeling in front of the girl the Captain offered his hand in introduction “I’m Captain Rolstar of the Baronial Mounted Patrol”. The tiny head looked up revealing bright blue eyes made more so by the tears welling there. The tears had streaked the soot on her cheeks. Rolstar thought from the fine features and length of hair that it must be a girl.
The child made no move to indicate she had understood Rolstar’s introduction but her lips moved continuously. The captain leaned closer to try to hear what she was saying, after a moment he realized she wasn’t speaking but singing though it sounded like no language he knew. Rolstar extended his hand again but again the child ignored the gesture and continued to sing.
The captain stood to ponder the situation and the waifish child stood as well, a mirror of his actions. Thinking it might be worth a try Rolstar turned in the direction of the horses and called over his shoulder “Follow me” and started walking. After a moment he turned and there walking behind him was the strange, sooty child.
“Round up men, time to head out” Rolstar yelled, “I want to make Carse before nightfall, we need fresh horses.”
Bending down he grabbed the child under her arms and swinging her carelessly placed her on his horse.
The sun quickly sinking behind the trees in the distant didn’t bode well for making Carse by nightfall. Frustrated by the lack of time Captain Rolstar grew increasingly irritated and the mumbling, singing child in front of him wasn’t helping matters much. As he reached the edge of his sanity, Rolstar was rescued by the sight of a traveling caravan setting up camp for the night. Dismounting, but leaving the girl on the horse, he went in search of whoever was in charge. A stout man with a large nose and mischievous blue eyes approached the captain with his hand extended “Gunnar Halfstead, what can I do for the fine gentlemen of Baronian Patrol?”
“We could use a meal, if you have enough to spare” the captain returned the shake less enthusiastically than Gunnar.
“We have more than enough to share and it will only cost you your company for the night”, the large man laughed heartily.
Not really in the mood for company but without much of a choice Rolstar accepted the invitation.
The members of the caravan and the patrol settled down on logs laid out for seats around the campfire, a mild breeze caused the flaps of the covered wagons to snap and pop rhythmically. And blew the smell of roasted pheasant toward the corralled horses who neighed in protest. Gunnar watched across the fire as the soldiers greedily ate their dinner but his attention was drawn to Rolstar and the small child by his side. The captain offered the child food unsuccessfully several times before his frustration won out and he tossed the drumstick on the ground in front of the child and stormed off. Gunnar, no stranger to children having a houseful of his own decided it was time to befriend the child. Rummaging in his sack he slipped something in his pocket before claiming the captain’s empty spot. Nonchalantly, he pulled the sweet roll from his pocket and tore a small piece off and stuffed it in his mouth, “I don’t much care for pheasant myself, no me, I’m a sweets man myself,” he chuckled. Feigning indifference the jovial man continued to eat small bits of the cake and ramble on about nothing, all the while inspecting the child. Quite small, he mused, maybe 5, delicate features, most likely a girl, though it was hard to tell for sure he suspected her hair was blond considering the intensity of the blue eyes that moved from his face to the roll and back again. One more bite and Gunnar made his move, with practiced casualness he thrust the roll towards the girl “Oh, would you like some?”
Tentatively and ever so slowly a small hand reached out and broke off a piece. She then carefully tucked it in her mouth and turned her head. Gunnar continued to spin his tales of adventures for his seemingly oblivious audience. After some time he thrust the cake at the child again “I’ve had my fill you want this or should I let it go to waste?”
“Dah”, the child mumbled and reached for the sweet cake.
It was a non-sense word that meant nothing, the unintelligible mumblings of a traumatized child but there was something in the cadence and quality of her voice that moved Gunnar to a rash decision, he must be her guardian. He had children at home and children around the village but this one was special.
Finding Rolstar grooming a horse, Gunnar made his move; the key to a good business deal was getting the other party to relax. And this was the most relaxed the captain had seemed since entering camp. Distracting him with talk of horses and patrols and Carse Gunnar finally brought up the girl.
“Speaking of Carse what are you going to do with that dirty little kid when you get there?”
“Had much thought of it, I guess I just figured I’d drop her off at the town temple.”
“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea. But I thought you soldiers had a code of honor or something like that?” Gunnar continued “to protect, serve or something equally as chivalrous.”
Rolstar shifted nervously, “Well, yes we up hold the peace and protect the inhabitants of the realm.”
“So, wouldn’t the child be an inhabitant and would dropping her off at the temple be protecting her?”
Really nervous now Rolstar replied “I can see your point but what other option do I have we can’t take her on patrol with us.”
Gunnar scratched his chin contemplatively, “I could possibly help you out if you wanted but I’d need a little compensation for my trouble and all.”
For the first time all day Captain Rolstar smiled as he extended his hand, “I’m sure we can come to an agreement.” This time he returned Gunnar’s shake with equal enthusiasm.
The next morning Gunnar took his place at the head of the caravan and beside him sat his new charge. Now thanks to one of the ladies in the traveling party the little girl was washed up, and he could see her flaxen hair and rosy cheeks. As was his custom Gunnar started singing as he sat at the head of the traveling line of wagons. Sometime later Gunnar listened carefully as softly at first then with more confidence the child at his side sang the song with him. Time and again as he changed the songs the girl would listen for a while then sing the song perfectly.
Stopping for lunch, Gunnar entertained the little girl with stories of his travels.
“Once at a festival I saw the most beautiful and tragic sight. It was a small yellow bird in a cage of branches it couldn’t fly free but it sang the most beautiful song. The merchant called it a kanarienvogel. As beautiful as its song was I couldn’t bring myself to have a captive creature.” The blonde child stared at him with her intense blue eyes, smiled and repeated the word “kanarienvogel”. Gunnar grinned and put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her to his side. “That’s you my little Kanar.”
“Kanar”, the child repeated satisfied as if she knew it was her new name.
Gunnar was a generous guardian, teaching Kanar everything he knew of the ends and outs of business, life, love and music. His generosity was only shadowed by the gratefulness of his ward Kanar absorbed everything that Gunnar taught her as well as things she witnessed in their village and during their travels. Though not of his blood Kanar was the daughter of Gunnar’s heart. She challenged him, provoked him, taught him, and on the rare occasion she comforted him when he despaired. And she always brought him joy. All this did not always lead to an easy life for an adopted child, Gunnar’s other children as well as the other children of the village often picked on her and teased her as children will do when someone is different. And Kanar was different in that she was exceptionally gifted in music and language, she could mimic almost any bird and she easily mastered the languages of other tribes. It didn’t help that Gunnar always singled her out to go see traveling performers at every opportunity or that at times he was overprotective to the point of nuisance. All in all though life for Gunnar and Kanar was a perfect partnership of love and respect.