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| - Litto had a simple philosophy, he had followed it all his life, "Enjoy the good times while they last, bear the bad times till you can do something about them." It had always been that way. His father had made a life out of blaming Litto for the things that were wrong in his own life. It was Litto's fault when the crops failed. It was Litto's fault when his mother ran off with a traveling salesman. It was Litto's fault when his father lost their meager savings at the gambling den. LItto knew the signs well, first came the shouting and name calling, then came the beatings. Since he was old enough to remember he had endured them. Only once had he spoken up, telling his father he would regret it if he laid a hand on him again. The beating that time had been particuallarly brutal.
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| abstract
| - Litto had a simple philosophy, he had followed it all his life, "Enjoy the good times while they last, bear the bad times till you can do something about them." It had always been that way. His father had made a life out of blaming Litto for the things that were wrong in his own life. It was Litto's fault when the crops failed. It was Litto's fault when his mother ran off with a traveling salesman. It was Litto's fault when his father lost their meager savings at the gambling den. LItto knew the signs well, first came the shouting and name calling, then came the beatings. Since he was old enough to remember he had endured them. Only once had he spoken up, telling his father he would regret it if he laid a hand on him again. The beating that time had been particuallarly brutal. The time to do something about his bad situation came in his 17th year, right after his father had sold their harvest, but before he could gamble it away. His father was sitting at the table counting his earnings when Litto walked up behind him and slit his throat. As his father looked up at him from the ground with disbelieving eyes, his life pumping out of his wound, Litto spit on him and said "I said you would regret it one day, well that day is today." He took the money from the table and never looked back. Tough as his childhood had been, it had provided him with several assets. First, he was a strong determined young man, more than capable of standing up for himself and giving as well as he received. His years of doing without ment he valued money, and easily resisted the many temptations others fell into that sapped them of their earnings. Finally, he was more than willing to do whatever it took to better his situation. The harvest money had lasted him a good while, but eventually even it ran dry. It was then, as hunger howled at his door, that he decided to try something new, the military. They offered several things he needed. Three square meals a day being the most important. They also provided clothing and shelter. While the duty had its moments of extreme danger, most of the time he was either waiting around for orders, or doing menial yet easy details. Hurry and up wait was the military mantra, and for a time it served his needs. It all ended with his new commander. An Elf, who held different views about what was acceptable in the military and what wasn't. Litto sensed that one day they would clash, and eventually that day arrived. It was right after a small skirmish on the borders. The enemy had probed the border forces looking for a weakness, and several troops on both sides had died. Now looting from the enemies dead had always been an acceptable practice, but Litto, being the ever practical sort, had taken to looting his own sides dead as well. After all, the dead Elf soldier wasn't going to be using those new boots anyway, and those silvers in his pouch would do him no good. The commander saw it differently, and threatened Litto with punishment. Not being a selfish man, Litto tossed the commander the dead soldiers pouch with half the money it had held. He figured the commander was just looking for his cut. He figued wrong. By the time it was all over, Litto had been tried, lashed and driven from the regimental compound. The commander informed him the only reason he hadn't been exectued was because the military regulations did not allow it for his crime. The military regulations ment nothing to Litto, and he whispered that into the commanders ear that evening when he garroted him in his tent. With the money from a chest in his dead commander's tent, Litto set off for Stormwind. Perhaps it was time to look into what the big city had to offer.
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