Tyosh Reuna

Tyosh Reuna
DM Handle: Zylazlo-
Email: Skolnick_m@hotmail.com
Name: Tyosh Reuna
Age: 24
Gender: Male
Height: 5'10
Weight: 170
Eyes: Dark green, tilted.
Hair: Long black just lets it flow freely, heavy beard.
Place of Birth/Raising: Saldea, Maradon
History:
Tyosh's story begins when he was just a lad. As a child, he always knew
what would become of him; he would own his father's tavern. Just like his
father had known and his grandfather before him. He was happy with the
decision; he liked to have that kind of certainty in his life. But more than
the certainty, it was the pleasure of knowing he didn't really have to
struggle. The tavern practically ran itself; he would live a comfortable
life maintaining the tavern. There was no actual satisfaction when he
thought about it; he would run the tavern to maintain the tavern. Most of
the time Tyosh considered having so much coin to his name to be a waste. He
was quite simplistic, have enough to survive and be happy and everything
else was just there to occupy space. But since running the tavern was
practically a family tradition, he accepted his future with enthusiasm. His
youngest memories were sitting in the tavern next to his father while he
served drinks and his mother prepared meals, both always trying to keep
their customers happy. And the years that followed were much the same, Tyosh
learning every trick of the trade. He tried to spend as much time as
possible in the tavern as if to soak in all the years of experience from his
father, not to mention on the whole he enjoyed it. The peddlers always
brought interesting wares, the caravans always brought pretty ladies to
dance with, there were a countless number of songs he learned from the bards
and he was a favorite anywhere because of all the stories and acrobatics he
had learned from gleemen. But most of all he thought it made his parents
happy.
That was why he was completely dumbfounded and shocked when on his
fifteenth his parents told him he was to live with his uncle and aunt for a
few seasons. Apparently the tavern wasn't doing so well so they were sending
him away for a while until they were back on their feet. Tyosh had no choice
and decided it was all for the better and went quietly.
His aunt and uncle lived somewhat distanced from any established
community; they were what you would call hermits. Tyosh wouldn't call
himself a city boy by any means but this lifestyle was just too different
from his accustomed life of shouting, laughing and singing. He would make
the most of it he supposed. He always wanted to take up on the offer his
uncle had proposed, of teaching him to shoot a bow, when in fact he would
learn so much more.
The very next day after he had a arrived at the small, bare cottage his
uncle awoke him a few moments before dawn, his only instruction being to get
ready and outside without delay. He did as he was told very grudgingly and
apparently with wool in his head. As soon as he stepped out the door a bow
and quiver were shoved into his arms along with a knife that was very close
to being a short sword. "Keep talk to a minimum and if you must talk keep it
to a low whisper" his uncle told him, Tysho found this a bit harsh but
followed the order anyways. After that his uncle motioned him into the thick
of a forest close by and in the forest they were engulfed in silence. Tysho
noticed his uncle moved with a smoothness and gracefulness he could only try
to emulate in some wild fantasy. But nonetheless he tried, and failed
miserably. After only a few hours Tysho had scared off dozens of rabbits, a
few deer and some ducks. "Well my boy, I thought maybe I could take you out
to get a feel for hunting but this is breakfast we're looking for here, so
go on back while I get us a decent meal" his uncle said without putting much
thought into it. Tysho felt extremely disappointed in himself that he
couldn't even accompany his uncle to hunt; at this rate he thought he'd
never get to hunt anything for himself.
Back at the cottage he arrived just in time to see his aunt about to
embark on her own little "hunting" with a basket in hand. By the look on her
face she guessed what happened and when she asked him if he wanted to
accompany her on some herb collecting he gladly accepted not wanting to stay
in the dull cottage alone. She enjoyed talking and Tysho let himself forget
about his earlier sullenness and take in the pleasure of good company. She
would talk about lots of things, how the furs her husband collected were
good money, about the weather, current events, she was apparently very in
need of someone to talk to. But one of the things she got really enthused
about talking about were the herbs, she went on and on about sawleaf,
redbell, hensfoot and about a hundred other herbs she knew the use of.
During the walk his aunt taught him some herb lore and told him the names of
some of the herbs they saw and collected. All in all it was pretty pleasant
for him.
Later that day his uncle decided to teach him slowly instead of just
throwing him into the wild. He took him into the woods again and showed him
the floor of the forest, its little clearings between leaves, which twigs
and branches to move and how to avoid scaring the animals by moving in synch
with the "life of nature" as his uncle called it. He didn't progress much
that day, but it did help a bit. When they returned to the cottage his uncle
started teaching him the bow as well. In that at least Tysho seemed to be
proficient and after a few practice shots could dig an arrow deeply into a
haystack.
The days after that first, seemed to follow that same pattern. He kept
taking morning walks with his aunt and learned more and more about herb
lore. It wasn't that he was trying to learn but with his aunt going on about
it, it sort of just seeped into his mind. His hunting however progressed a
bit slower, but nonetheless he progressed. But his abilities to keep quiet
were wasted though. He was becoming such a good shoot on the bow, that he
could hit prey when he was out of hearing distance.
He was always proud of his latest great catch, he'd skin the thing
himself, cook, gut it and all. Those little things his uncle taught him gave
him worth somehow. And when they'd travel to a market to sell the furs he'd
always boast a bit of his latest endeavors. He received letters from his
parents; the letters always avoided the subject of the tavern, so he
supposed they still weren't all that great. But eventually there was talk
about the tavern, good talk. The tavern was gaining its old splendor back
and eventually they asked him to come back. He did play with the thought for
a bit but after some consideration he decided to stay. This life of solitude
and small achievements made him feel better then all his years at home, so
he decided to give himself more time at the cottage. He missed home but he
wouldn't let that come in the way of becoming better in all the things he
now loved.
And to pass the time, his uncle decided he needed to toughen up a bit
and take up a good, reliable weapon, like a quarterstaff. And so after
hunting and practicing with his bow, his uncle and he would spar for great
lengths of time. The long duration was always at Tysho's behest, trying to
get at least one blow on his uncle. He went to sleep everyday aching and
tired but somewhat fulfilled, in fact he noticed he hadn't thought of home
in ages it seemed.
And that's how the time passed, seasons became winters and before he
knew it 5 winter's had passed in that far away cottage. By that time, he
could move like his uncle, one with nature, and truly hear all that nature
has to offer. He could best him at the quarterstaff every once in a while as
well. And his shooting only got faster, more precise and instinctive.
Herb-wise he could probably season a stew with herbs you'd never even heard
of and he'd even made a balm of his own that took the sting off of a nasty
cut.
But with all the time passed he decided it was enough he was going to go
home. He felt thankful to these people that taught him so much about
everything. He really couldn't express his gratitude in words but he tried.
But they did express their feelings and gave him one of their horses, he
named it, Arrow. After much difficulty, leaving such wonderful people was
very saddening, he set off for Maradon.
He didn't realize how much he'd miss his parents; as soon as he arrived
he felt something well up in his throat. He walked through the door of the
tavern and truly felt awkward. He entered the place of his childhood with
the toys of a man, his bow, quarterstaff and knife felt out of place here,
like they didn't belong at this, his place of youth. But he sure did feel
welcome anyways, his mother and father welcomed him and battered every bit
of his life at the cottage and he in return asked all about the shop. It all
went smoothly from there. It seemed as if no time had passed at all, they
hadn't even missed a beat.
And they lived happily for many a year until his mother passed from a
grave fever and his father from grief. Tyosh grieved his loss deeply but
kept his family tradition intact and ran the tavern. But he also hunted to
remember his good times at the cottage and wandered around herb shops
snooping around asking about prices and quizzing random shopkeepers to test
his knowledge. He lived in this manner until around the time he was at the
age of twenty-four.
There had been a terrible fire at the tavern; he knew exactly who it had
been. When he was growing up there had always been another tavern a little
ways from his own. It didn't blossom and grow as well as his, not because it
didn't have good service and wares but because Tyosh's tavern had been there
first. And while Tyosh's family lived well the opposing tavern strived to
survive. Eventually just like with Tyosh's family the other tavern passed on
to a son. The son had always despised Tyosh and his tavern and some loose
tongues had revealed that he had been the one who supposedly started
spreading the bad word that lead to that hard situation when Tyosh was 15.
Tyosh knew the son, Rynk Cecon, he was a hateful person and Tyosh wouldn't
put him above to do something a bit more drastic this time. He'd heard the
rumors of jealousy but he couldn't believe Rynk would stoop that low. Maybe
a few critters in the ale, termites in the wood but to burn it down, Tyosh
never would have believed it so. Tyosh had no proof for any of this, nor did
he search for any he knew he wouldn't find anything. But one day maybe he'd
get Rynk for some other heinous thing he'd done and make him pay for what
he'd done to him and everyone else he'd hamper just to get ahead. Tysho
promised it to himself.
He lost everything, most of his gold and clothing. He'd been able to save
some of the nicer ones; he'd also saved his hunting gear. But besides that
he only had his horse.
He decided to ask for some favors from close friends, which turned out
to be nothing but enemies. No one wanted to have anything to do with him, no
one would take him in, lend him enough. So he struck out for the only other
home he had ever known, the cottage. There he found his widowed aunt (his
uncle passed some time ago). She pained at the news and offered much
comfort. She tried to make him as comfortable as possible, but what he
really wanted was to be alone. He didn't actually know why he came here
again. And as soon as his aunt fell asleep, he left again with the stealth
his uncle had taught him.
He slept under the stars that night and planned what he would do. And
then he realized there was really only one thing he could do. Live off the
land until he could get back on his feet, he knew he could get a pretty
penny for some herbs and furs. So herbs and hunting that would be his life
now. The land would practically give him everything he needed until he could
get his tavern back if he really did want it back. But for now he didn't
even have enough for a decent wagon to peddle his wares. So the next morning
he struck out for "softer" lands in Andor in search of an easier life, all
the while picking some honeyroses he could sell later on.
Back to Freelander bios
Category:Biographies
Category:Freelanders Bios