Guido/Kronk Baldox

=Harth "Kronk" Baldox=

The journals of his ancestors were specific on the events of the past. It was 500 years distant, but he could touch his ancestry, sense their immediate presence in his life. He poured through the novel-like journals that littered his family library. He had read the story of Pithra’s assault on the castle, nearly defeating Corbel. He had wondered at her bravery in standing beside Prince Garrillon through thick and thin. He pushed those novels aside in favor or more recent tomes.

Pithra’s children, two of them to be exact, grew alongside the children of Garrillon. Her abilities to organize and lead men, to gain the respect of those that served under her, endeared her to Garrillon. These qualities and others served to remind him of his father’s noble spirit. It was often said that Garrillon was more like his father, believing in the traditions and traits that had ruled their city for years. The two were alike in many ways, which spawned a friendship that only blossomed further as they were exiled from the city. Their children played much together, growing in the fashion that children do, oblivious to the pains of their parents until they themselves are afflicted with similar concerns.

In the end, it must be said that Pithra’s daughter, Elizabeth, married the second born of Garrillon’s children. A moment that was well worth waiting for, in the parents’ eyes. Kronk read the stories again and again, they called to him. They spoke to him and showed him the strength and quality of the chain that forged his heritage. He looked back through the line of parents, grandparents and so forth.

Kronk glanced at his father’s line. Edmund Baldox, son of Garrilon Baldox II. He traced the line from his father to him. He sighed as he looked over the various people he was tied to, the greatness that his family had attained over the years. He knew they were a small family, but that only made it worse. He opened his own novel, short at it was. He opened it and reflected, cringing as the flood of memories returns to him.

This was the first of many grueling years for Kronk. It represented his induction as an Elite. The inner circle of nobles within his family. Each year represented the tenets of his faith, the pillar by which he lived his life. He remembered it vividly. He was only 15 when it started, but that was old enough by his family’s count.

Each of the elite were hidden from public view for this moment. The first year they were treated as the common rabble. Each child was taken, stripped of all that identified them and thrown into training with those that do not have the privileged life. Kronk looked at the teachings of Vahan that he’d memorized from a young age:

Kronk shivered with the memories that returned. Some pleasant, others not so much. It was a mixed bag for him. He sat a few moments in his estate’s library. He put his head back as he felt the flames warm him and the gentle hiss coming from the fire. He put a hand on his personal tome as he sat and shifted to make his limbs feel life once more. Blood pumping he continued his reveries.



Kronk had learned by then, he reminisced, of the consequences that came when he complained of the injustices of life. He had attained a fair amount over the years. He might have guessed, had he not been focused on the here and now, that his parents purposefully gave him the items he so cherished.

It took him a few days, he mused, but he was able to bear the thought of giving what he possessed away. He would never know it, but this step, above all others, gave his parents cause to rejoice. He found families in need and gave them his things. It was a vital step in his adolescence, one that would serve to shape his thoughts. He had the mental and physical stamina needed for a Baldox. Now, as he thought of it, his heart grew in those months of service. The service to each individual, so personal, much needed cultivated the youth’s mind. He grew a thick skin and a giving heart through the many trials that he had faced thus far. He could feel for others, a response that often comes with serving the common good of the people.

He mused - the second lesson or tenet and third were pleasant lessons. Hard in their own right, but something he appreciated.

Kindness, generosity and charity.

The Baldox’s wouldn’t be so crass as to have his son take up with the whores of the city. He would not find his flesh in the bed of those who stalk the night and are creatures of the flesh themselves. It was different in this case. Kronk had taken his training for the past 3 years, service and physical training took him to greater heights within the service of Vahan. He, however seemed far from the finished product that the Elite Baldox School was renowned for.

In his mind, Kronk recalled the year of learning the seedier element of the city he now dwelt in. He visited the various taverns within old and new town. He was 18 by this time, his writing remained consistent. It was a requirement of the trials and education that he underwent. He could read the words, the descriptions of each person in this portion.

This encounter and many others shaped his young life as he learned of the more risqué side of life. Of course this wasn’t the only training the young Baldox had, but it was the most pervasive. It is the easiest means to give the boy experience in the ways of life. This was the best means, it offered Kronk an opportunity to learn mercy as well as diligence. He grew in understanding of the things that plagued the citizens of New Haven, as well as the life choices that defined their characters. He had a chance to learn and teach those he spoke with.

Diligence through such experiences meant his ability to show mercy when necessary and show justice when needed. He looked over the various pages within his diary. Each experience looming larger than life, larger than the memory itself. It was a record of who he was, a record of how he reacted. He trusted his words in the book, it was the truth according to how he felt. He couldn’t lie to himself, he couldn’t lie to another person. It was one trait that had often vexed him in his early years, but now seemed to be a strength. He felt faultless in the eyes of Vahan due to his ability to remain honest.



Kronk flipped the pages of his life moving towards the latter end of the following year. Each year brought a culmination of previous teachings and a new principle. He felt his mind wander aimlessly for a few seconds before he focused on that day of his life. His calling.

This was Kronk’s legacy now. First born of Edmund Baldox, heir to the house. He moves with diligence and honor to strengthen his family as well as the God he serves.

Journals

 * Diary