Hinston

Information

Appearance

He usually wears a drifty red shirt, revealing his chest as his intentions are exactly the same. On his legs are blue pants, and wears simple boots. He almost never wears mail or plate.

Personality

He is usually kind to people in his good side, but when there is a woman involved, he drops what he is doing and flirts with her, pertaining a slap in the end. He did this almost every time he spotted a lady. He also would drink his heart out in taverns, belching out after taking a swig of ale.

History

Two years after the First War, Sabereidas and his wife, Thrysia owned a farm in the vast plains of Westfall. They were poor, their son, Hinston, didn't have a care in the world of the Family's dilemma. The father was wanted by the Stonemason's guild for unknown reasons, and their farm.. was on the south-western most corner, and a Gnoll encampment infested the area surrounding the farm's left side. Their problems were more advanced than that, but their crops were rich and ever-growing, although.

One day when Hinston went to play out, while his parents were tending to the corn, the gnolls were closer to the farm than usual. Hinston looked up into the horizon, noticing a bunch of short beasts running for him. He was frozen, not able to move. Half of them went to the left, at his parents. "Grab the child!!" A supposed chieftain barked, his own voice seemingly older and rustier than the other gnolls as they began screaming war cries, slashing at Sabereidas as he picked off a gnoll with his pitch-fork. But he easily fell as a rusty sword dug into his waist. A few murmurs were heard from the Father as he lay on the ground. Alas, he received another wound in the back by the chieftain; He was silent.

The boy watched the whole scene while being tugged against the ground by two gnolls. The chieftain then pointed to the two that were holding Hinston to the ground, barking out words that seemed to be in their own language. The boy was then hoisted on a wagon. The head gnoll walked to the broken wagon, arching his head so that the saliva dripped on Hinston's face. He made a wispy hiss. "We slay your family. You come with us!" He barked, spit being thrown on the boy's face. The whole time was filled with whimpers, filled with fear of being killed. He was frozen as he was tied up, and carried through the wagon. He couldn't tell where he was being carried, waiting with his eyes shut.

The wagon suddenly went to an abrupt stop, the Chieftain barking words indistinct to him, probably in the Gnoll language. He yelped, suddenly being grabbed and thrown on the ground near a camp fire. It was night time, so he couldn't make out the faces of the gnolls. A stray gnoll yelled a rusty word to the Chieftain. The leader growled, grasping the gnoll in the neck, almost crushing him. Throwing him down the ground, he turned to the other gnolls and yelled words that Hinston could not understand. "Child!" sneered a gnoll. The leader shook his head violently. "He must not be killed! He can be useful to us." The leader said in Common, almost intent on giving the boy a scare as the tall one glared at Hinston in the eye. The boy fell asleep, after a shaman of the tribe casted a spell.

The next thing he saw, was a small gnoll kneeling down in front of Hinston, grinning; his teeth bare. "Like camp?!" it barked. Hinston wanted to run, but the liberty was restricted as he found that his limbs were bound by spell. "Our tribe in farm! Getting foods!" It sneered, pointing west. It gave a scary expression, to the boy, and went. The same shaman walked in front of the boy, enfeebled and old. It's back was hunched more than the other gnolls. "You have been captured by the Greyclaw tribe. We will put you to work, and If you try to run, we will kill you." it said, grasping his cane, his support coming from it. He waved a hand over him, Hinston almost instantly feeling liberty. The boy was scared, his trousers wet because of so. "Get up, boy!" The shaman barked. The boy slowly rose from his feet, wanting to run.. but he couldn't for fear of being killed. The shaman grasped the tool Sabereidas used to kill a gnoll, showing it to Hinston. "What is this called?" The shaman said. Hinston eyed the Pitchfork, looking up at the Shaman with fear. "... A p- pitchfork." He said, his voice shrill and low. "What is it used for.. " The gnoll said, tilting his head and snarling. Hinston gulped. "It's.. used t' get th' hay." He said, biting his lower lip and dipping his head. "Please let me go!" He yelled.

The shaman bonked the boy on the head with his cane. "No! You will work." The gnoll threw the pitchfork toward Hinston. "Here, gather hay." He said as he watched Hinston fumble the Pitchfork. The shaman pointed to the left, a big pile of hay that came from the gnolls which looted from the farm. Hinston walked slowly toward the pile of hay, whimpering. He lazily dug the fork of the tool in some hay, raising it and setting a pile of hay aside. He turned around, eying the Shaman; it nodded savagely. The boy turned toward the pile of hay, beginning to work, slowly calming but still afraid.

Two hours later, Hinston let the pitchfork dig in the yellow ground, grasping the handle and letting his body slouch over, his head wrapped around the wooden shaft. He was panting, tired. The only gnoll present was the Shaman, and it was about 2 o' clock in the morning. All the boy wanted was sleep, and freedom. "Work!!" The shaman barked. Hinston merely looked at the shaman. The gnoll walked toward the boy. A noise sifted through the air, an arrow suddenly taking the gnoll through the skull. The creature didn't make a noise, except falling on his side; It's expression bewildered. He looked to his left, scared as a man with a torch nearing toward him about twenty yards away. He gestured to be silent, putting his index finger vertically over his lips. He dropped his torch in the camp fire next to Hinston, which eyed the Human Male, perplexed. ".. Who are you?" The man shook his head, pointing toward the Farm. He eyed Hinston. "The rest of my Guild are killing the remaining gnolls as we speak. I came to the main encampment to see if any gnolls were here." The male said, low. "We need to get out of here, to Stormwind." He said, turning toward north and walking. He looked behind him as he walked, seeing Hinston not following. "Are you sure you want to stay?" He said, inclining his head. The boy eagerly ran after the man, following him toward the entrance to Elwynn Forest from Westfall.

Stopping at the bridge, he turned toward Hinston and sighed, kneeling in front of him. "Sorry about earlier, youngster. My name's Garret. What's yours?" Hinston looked around, and eyed back at Garret. "Me' mother called me Hinston, so I guess it's me' name." He said, his tone somewhat normal. Garret tussled Hinston's hair, standing back up. "Do you know Stormwind City, Hinston?" He said, leaning against a fence-post, looking down at the child. The boy looked to the side, trying to remember. He looked back up at Garret, nodding. "Me' dad told stories of going to Stormwind City for business." He said, saying "Business" with a bit of incorrect tone. Garret nodded, looking to the ground beside Hinston. "Stormwind City is a big place, so I don't want you to get lost while in it. Y' hear?" Hinston nodded soon after Garret's words, and they began walking again.

Their travels went on, stopping to get a drink of water from Garret's water skin. They ran into a few wolves; Garret dismembering them easily with his short sword. After about an hour of traveling, the two stopped in front of the gates of Stormwind City. Hinston was wide-eyed at the image, wanting to never let go of the beautiful image. Garret began walking, with Hinston by his side. Garret gave the front guard a nod, the plated man giving a glare behind his helmet. "Hinston, this is the center of trade in the kingdom of Stormwind. You will find almost anything on the streets of the Trade District." He sighed, walking past the General. When they were in the Trade District, Garret turned around, kneeling like before. "Hinston, I'm going to take you to the Guild Hall, there you can rest." He patted Hinston, and began walking. They crossed a bridge, going into a red-roofed district; They were in Old Town. Garret pointed toward a building that stood out from the rest. "That's the Guild Hall of the Stonemason's Guild." He turned toward Hinston, eying him as he contemplated a few things. He shook his thoughts away, "Listen to me. When the gnolls raided your home, your parents were killed. You were lucky to be taken as a prisoner. " He said, expecting the reply. Hinston gave a tear, then began crying. He sat on the stone ground, crying in his legs. Garret smiled, kneeling down; patting his back. "Come on, we have to go." He said, standing.

It took a few long moments for the boy to recover, following Garret as he entered a small doorway. Inside were tables, accompanied with chairs. There were also wall-paintings of mostly stones, brilliantly crafted ones. A man was inside, dressed in a white robe. He had Grey hair, and was bald on the top. "Welcome back, Garret." The old man blinked, eying Hinston. "And you found... a boy?" The old one exclaimed. "Barrings, I couldn't let him be, he was helpless." He said, Histon hiding behind Garret. Barrings shook his head, turning around and entering a room. "Do what you like, but beware of the Headmaster's opinion." He said, as he walked. Garret sighed and eyed Hinston. "Come along, then." He muttered, walking into a few corridors and into a small room. Its contents were a bed, a headstand, and a window. "This is where you will be staying. What becomes of your future, I know not, but you need rest." He said, walking out and shutting the wooden door. Hinston did not squander the opportunity for sleep, so he eased himself on the bed, closing his eyes and letting sleep overtake him.

With a wry groan, he turned over, closing his eyes once again. Voices in the corridor were heard, but indistinct. He rose his head from the pillow, intent on eavesdropping. As his attempt was futile, he rested his head back down, thinking. "What if it's too much for him?" A man said, similar to Garret's voice. Hinston became worried, listening for any other voices that he could figure out. The voices were still indistinct, though growing louder. It felt as if it were an important discussion, but he threw the concerns away as he was swallowed in slumber. ...A few knocks on the door was made, followed by a shout of the boy's name. It was Garret, as he openned the door, finding Hinston still encased in the dream world. The man touched the boy on the shoulder a few times, enough to wake him. Hinston groaned, blinking. He lied there for a few moments, letting consciousness take its hold. He got out of bed, and looked at Garret. "I have news for you, boy." The man said, pausing. "You will stay here, and become part of the Stonemason's Guild. You will grow up here, and possibly move out on your own when you become of age." He said, smiling. Hinston didn't give a happy or negative reply, only a yawn, as he didn't know what was going on. "Hinston, you're one of us, now. Do you understand that?" Garret said, with a sigh. The boy nodded, silent; his attention onto Garret. The man, sat on the foot of the bed, his head turned toward the boy. "You start today, whether you like it or not." He said, eying Hinston's whiny response. "I never wanted t' do this!" Hinston griped. "You have no choice." Garret said, rising from the bed and walking out of the small room.

Hinston and Garret began training together from there, years passing as the boy progressed. The boy was no longer a boy, yet a Teenager around the age of Fifteen. "Watch out, Garret!" Hinston shouted, swinging his sword at him. Garret would likewise parry the swing and send another at Hinston's way. He groaned, attempting to parry the blade and being knocked down on the ground. They were at a training ground, a square of sand in the practice ring, and dummies circling the arena. They practiced, an occasional heavy blow leading to Hinston falling on the ground. It went on for hours, which practice would usually last for only an hour or two. At the end, they were panting, on the ground. "You've gotten good, Hinston." Garret said, getting on his feet and giving the teenager a hand. Hinston accepted the hand, Garret hoisting him up. Hinston faced Garret, somewhat serious. "Listen.. Garret." The older blinked, becoming concerned as he sensed Hinston's seriousness. "What is it?" Garret said. "I'm going soon. And I wanted your opinion on it." He muttered, gazing Garret in the eye. "... You're leaving? the Guild will guide your path, then." "No." Hinston said almost automatically. "I don't want to become part of the guild anymore. I want to be free of this." He said, gesturing toward the Guild hall. Garret sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Well.. the Headmaster won't like it. But it's your choice." Garret said, watching Hinston walk toward the guild hall, following him. "I'll leave today, maybe even in an hour or two." Hinston said, turning around, at his room door, to eye Garret. Garret had his arms crossed, knowing the future. "Do what you wish, you're old enough to fend for yourself." He said, tilting his head. And so Hinston packed his things. He then left, knowing no where to stay. But he had an idea.

With a pack on his back, he went to the Dwarven district, after hearing gossip of a certain Dwarf, which he heard was skillful in Mining. The interest peaked on the certain person, eying around the forge, spotting a few unusual patrons, one of which was the Dwarf. He walked toward him, "Stop there, lad." The old Dwarf said. His voice was full of scruff and rust, his white bard down to his knees, in a single knot. The Dwarf turned, eying Hinston over. "So ye' the who ol' Garret told me about, aye?" He said, placing the calipers down on the anvil. "He told me of th' dreams and fantasies you had about mining when ye' were young. I assume you want to train as a miner and work under me, lad?" Hinston nodded, smiling. The Dwarf returned the smile. "Well, ye'll need a place te' sleep, I assume." The small one said, fumbling around with tools, setting the calipers on a rack, accompanied by a hammer and a mining pick. Grasping a new mining ax, he tossed the tool to Hinston, the teenager almost dropping it, but caught it, although. The Dwarf looked back at Hinston, shaking his head with a sigh as he walked off. "Follow me, youngin'." The short one walked off, into one of the houses in the Dwarven District. The house was small, but big enough to fit two people. The walls were paved with axes and mauls. There were two wooden doors, and upstairs from the main room, was a storage area. The Dwarf pointed to the left door, returning it to his side. "That's yer' room, lad. Mind ye' that it ain't got nothin' but a bed n' a window." He said, looking at Hinston. The Dwarf sighed, "Take off yer' pack and leave it here, I need t' teach ye' a few things right aboo't now." He said, walking out. Hinston hoisted the heavy backpack, leaving it against the wall, between the two doors.

He hurried to the Dwarf. "Could I ask yer' name, Sir?" Hinston, questioned. The Dwarf nodded. "Th' name's Gardin Steelfist. Any other questions?" He said, impatient with the boy already. "No, Sir." Hinston said. They were back at the forge. "Y' remember that pick I gave you?" Dwarf said, picking up the calipers from the rack. Hinston gripped the shaft of the mining pick, nodding. "I want ye' to hit the sharp side against that rock as hard as ye' can." Gardin said, pointing to a large boulder. Hinston eyed the rock, walking toward it and doing so. It made a small crack; Hinston frowned at the result. "Again, lad.. " Gardin said, not moving his eyes off of his sword he was preparing. His left hand grasping the calipers which held the handle-less blade, his right grasping a hammer which he banged against the steel. Hinston picked the boulder again, a small crumble. "Again!" Hinston did it again, a small chunk coming out of the huge rock. Gardin sat the tools down, walking over to Hinston. He clapped, his gloves making a padding noise. "Well done. You've mined yer' first vein of Copper." He said, eying up at him, giving a hearty smile. "Hit it some more, y' need practice." He said. And Hinston did, until the vein was completely broken apart. It took two hours to do so, and it was night.

Gardin eyed the set of ore and stones. "Now I want you to gather the ore and put them on that rack, over there." Gardin pointed behind the forge, which sat a rack, holding multiple sets of ore, some Gold, some Iron, some Tin, and some Copper. "Pile 'em on the rest o' th' copper, then get some rest." The Dwarf said, turning and heading towards the house.

This was the rest of Hinston's life, training under the Dwarf. He would go out into the forest of Elwynn, gathering excess Copper ore for Gardin, and progressively getting better in mining, so he went from Copper, to Tin, to Iron, and later, Mithril. When he was lucky, he would spot a deposit of Silver or Gold, and would eagerly mine out the contents, showing them to Gardin for praise. This was waht he did in his days, until Gardin grew enfeebled and died. Hinston did not have enough experience as a Miner to take his place, so he had no choice but to let someone else take the position, leaving Hinston without work. But alas, he still had a home.

His speech dropped, and started entering Taverns and Bars, wooing women. He was now hated in two separate taverns, banned. He did these things until present times, after the third war. Such is the daily life of Hinston Jarrings.

Hinston

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