This is simply a fan fiction of Vincent Longborn and my thoughts on his back story, nothing meant to be serious just me writing something out of enjoyment.
A link to the past
As the rest of the inn sets off with mindless banter, a dancing Tudagub twirling around slapping Bregor and Abigael with spells of healing while they continue to slam their ales together singing some melody in elvish, Sir Vincent Longborn sharpens his already sharp blades, quietly listening to the screeching sound of whetstone on steel. While stopping from time to time to sip slowly on his apple juice, Vincent gazes out the window staring deep into the valley that lies ahead, the hills rolling over leading into the forest beyond.
Vincent suddenly began to drift away from reality, the inn started to vanish around him, leaving him in an open road where farmers fields began to overtake the hills and the forest disappearing completely leaving behind a vast cliff with a large kingdom sitting near the edge. The fields of crops stretched for miles around, farther than one could see; the kingdom walls stretching in a bow-like fashion towards the cliff with a smaller wall traveling across the edge to keep anyone from falling off from within the castle.
Vincents body began to drift towards the castle, as if he were a floating spirit. He closed his eyes for a moment, opening them to only appear within the walls of the castle. All around him townsfolk hastily moved about the shops and through the districts passing through him as if he were a ghost. Vincent stood there for a moment listening to the sounds of people bartering, beggars begging and owners of fine goods trying to sell their wares. Ahead of him lie the keep to the castle, a place Vincent was very fond of, and often missed. He began to slowly walk towards the keep, drifting past the guard, into the courtyard where he envisioned his former self doing swordplay with his older brothers. Though Vincent was the youngest of his brothers he was the finest swordsmen out of the four, and was always praised by all to be a great warrior one day.
He looked about and remembered the four towers around the corners of the keep, each tower a different height, one slightly taller than the other. The towers symbolized the age of the four Longborn children, the tallest representing the eldest Longborn child, all the way down to the shortest tower representing Vincent himself. Through the courtyard you could see a massive opening that lead into the throne room with tall pillars running down both sides and a red carpet with golden edges, guiding the way towards the throne in the middle. Behind the throne there was a staircase that took you towards a long hallway ending with a door which brought you into the kings main chamber. Down the hallway were paintings of each Longborn member with the kings painting residing above the great door.
Vincent walked through the throne room, up the stairs and into the hallway to gaze at the image of himself in the painting. What he saw was himself standing atop a hill with some stunning armor glimmering in the sun and his sword raised in the air almost as if he were about to lead an attack with his fathers troops. Chuckling to himself, Vincent moved forward through the door. He looked around the room relishing himself in the magnificently decorated chamber. In the middle of the ceiling, a great chandelier hung, glistening with gold decorations and lighting up everything around it. All around the room the walls were painted with celebrations of the kingdoms history, with a golden decorated border following around it. In the middle of the room rests the kings bed and painted above it was the Longborn crest. Off to the left there was a door that took you out onto a balcony that overlooked the ocean that rest below the vast cliff that the kingdom sat on.
Through the door Vincent could hear two people talking, one of them sounding like his father, the other sounding like himself. He opened the door leading to the balcony only to find that he was right. As he stood still the conversation continued. "I have no meaning here father, I'm one prince out of four, my destiny reaches far greater then that." Vincent beckoned. "You have meaning here Vincent, your destiny is to be king once your brothers and I pass on!" replied his father, with a raspy tone. Frustration began to overcome Vincents voice. "And what am I supposed to do in the meantime, ramble about in politics for twenty years learning nothing?" He remained silent and Vincent continued to speak, "I am destined for adventure. I must set out in this world of chaos and help those that need it, only then can I return and be a grand ruler like you". Realizing there was no way out of it, Vincents father let loose a sigh, and agreed with him. "Fine, but if you are to leave here, you are not to come back until you have proven to yourself, and can prove to me that your adventures have been a worthwhile ambition." Vincents tone changed and he stood upright with a smile beginning to spread across his face. "I promise to return with many tales and with the attitude of a king father." His father stepped close to Vincent wrapping his arm around his neck and gently pulling him in, setting his lips to Vincents head. "Go forth and experience what destiny has in store for you my child." His father pulled away and as he did, Vincent felt his family crest being embroidered into his skin. When he looked up his father had turned to look out towards the ocean. Vincent thanked his father and left the balcony going through the shadowy figure of himself still standing there gazing towards the ocean himself.
Tudagub slammed himself down beside Vincent, nearly falling on top of him, snapping Vincent back to reality. Tudagub managed to spit out of his mouth, "Ready to go to Halanthalisha Vincent?" Vincent just sat there and smiled, nodding in agreement to go to Halanthas, he began to finish his apple juice and sheathe his weapons.