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86 reviewsI left my clan’s village a few days ago. I took nothing but the clothes that I wore, the wooden sword that I had carved myself, and a sharpened piece of flint. I didn’t have a cloak to sleep in until later, when I had worked enough to have a few coins buy one. In fact, I didn’t even have a name.
I was an Adventurer Monk, a novice, trained by my father and grandfather, but now on my own. My name and my fortune would come as I made them for myself. And that would start in the next thirty heartbeats.
My profession was to kill monsters, rescue damsels in distress, and protect the innocent from those who would oppress them. To be the hero. Right now, I was about to embark on rescuing my first damsel. She was in dire distress. She might not survive. But neither would the man about to murder her. He would never get the chance to take her life, but from the look of it, she had suffered life-threatening injuries already. I would revive and restore her if I could.
The man would die before he knew that I was there. The woman would survive if I could make it happen. If I myself was going to survive for longer than a month or so, I needed better weapons, better armor, and some companions to watch my back.
My father had both of my mothers on his Adventures. My grandfather had my three grandmothers with him. In many places, an Adventurer would band together with other men or women of the same profession and travel for a time, forming and dissolving partnerships as the situation seemed right to them. In the tradition of my clan, as Monks, I hoped for more lasting relationships with my companions. It would be rare to find both a mate and an Adventurer in the same woman, but if I did, I would be very happy.
This damsel wasn’t going to be like that. I would rescue her, heal her if I could, and then return her to her people. If they had a reward for me, it would be welcome, but if they did not, I would still be glad to have been of service to her.
My name would be Ronin. Over the years ahea