T
The Fox and The Spider
Guest
Original poster
Part 1 "Giant in a small man's world."
"I remember the days of my youth, a time in which I was bred into a world of tradition. Tradition, something as intangible as it was defined, an abstract concept that much like religion, dictated the moral compass of all life. And much like religion, it served as a double edged sword, capable of cutting both ways. In some regards it can preserve a group of people during trying times, yet this very same tradition can grow, take a life of its own and become a form of Dogma.
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Hampering one's own existence as it once strengthens it. Before my days walking amongst the world of the other races, a time in which I spent as one of the giant folk, I remember well our xenophobic and warring system of government. This type of rule served us well, during a time in which the land proved hostile, resources limited. An era of invasion from an unknown enemy; who wanted nothing more than our eradication, for the sole purpose of claiming this land as their own.
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But such times have long since pass, yet still we clung to this approach, refusing trade or have any dealing with the new inhabitants of the valley. Instead of conforming, we sought to raid and wage war. Believing the old ways to be the only approach for survival, yet my time away from my tribe, my time spent amongst those we viewed as weak proved to me otherwise.
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It is this old mentality that forever has painted an ill picture of my kind, casting us into war time and time again, birthing tragedies on both sides. Forever impeding the views other held toward me and robbing me of much, including something as simple yet necessary as friendship. In time perhaps my character can shine through, but I can't fault the others for how they see me. If the shoe were on the other foot, would I behave so differently? This much I am left to wonder…
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If I could, if it were even possible, I would return to my tribe and home. Bringing with me a fresh outlook that may save my dying and dwindling people; however my lot is a proud one, far too stubborn in their ways to listen to one half born, such as I.
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The only thing I can do is survive, try to find acceptance in a world that already has labeled me. A task that seems more and more impossible, with each passing day. Still my principles have led me this far, I will not fail them as they surely haven't failed me. Maybe one day, in the not so distant future, I can find the one thing I desire most in this world. Acceptance, acceptance that defies the traditions of others, and penetrates the presumptions of others.
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Many years have passed since I first set off to find a home of my own, one designed just as much for me, as I for it. My travels through the harsh land brought me to small town resting comfortably along a lake by the neck of our world. A set of mountain ranges that mark the farthest northern civilizations. It is a land of outcast and vigilantes alike, a society built around one thing, personal gain and the delusion of order.
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Here there was a place for one of my kind, a half giant, though it came in the most unusual of forms. Long ago I stumbled across a dwarf, a stubborn and prideful man despite his height, who reminded me more of an open minded giant than anything else. Whilst most looked at me as a beast, he saw me for what I was, a being defined not by appearance, rather by the contents of my character. And offered myself a place within society and work, for years I toiled away within the cramp spaces of his shop, slamming hammer against heated steel.
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Taking what was once formless, and giving it purpose and design. I became a blacksmith, the art providing a much needed distraction from my woeful past and the bigotry rendered unto me by some of the locals. In time, through hard work and dedication I was able to ward off original conceptions, yet still I wasn't accepted, perhaps tolerated at best.
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These years proved the simplest and best of my life thus far, days I would never give up no matter how tempting the offer."