Who am I and where did I come from you ask? Well I am not
sure even I could answer that in a coherent manner. To even start
with the base history is not even as straightforward as with most.
But I will give it a try.
To begin let us talk of my fine parentage. I am the illegitimate
son of a wealthy someoneorother from Scotland and a simple girl of
the MacBain clan of Scotch/Irish background. My mother was from
Ireland but was in Scotland visiting her sister (who was married to
Scottish sailor) when she found herself in a torrid affair with a
local well to do someone. I am sorry that I cannot be more specific
but my mother has never given me any information on the man, for
she swore that she would not (more on that later).
Well she got in trouble, and by "in trouble" I of course mean
with child, with this presumably adulterous affair. She was quickly
sent back home and then placed in a convent to cover her shame.
The fine Scottish man (I assume he was Scottish) sends a pile
of money to insure her silence. My mother has told me that upon
her death, should I go back to the convent I will find amongst
the things that she has left for me the identity of my father.
Maybe someday I will take the trouble to track him down.
So there I was born in a convent. Why should my history get any
less complicated at this point? Whilst I was in the womb the nuns
at the convent not only took care of my mother but also started
training her has one of their own. She became a true believer
and took the vows and joined their number. I was named Enoch in
deference to an early righteous man mentioned in the bible.
I was nursed at the convent by my mother. I suppose the plan
was, after I no longer needed a wet-nurse, I would be transferred
to the local orphanage. Somehow the plan went astray. From what
I gather the nuns, not having children of their own, all became
too attached to the young me. I was allowed to stay much longer
than originally intended. As it happens, I never was forced to live
the horrid life of an orphan. Instead, I was raised by over fifty
mothers, sisters and novices.
At the age of thirteen, the age when one might be sent off to
apprentice a trade and when masculine characteristics started to
appear, I was sent off to London to the seminary at St. Paul's
to be taught the ways of a priest. I was a good enough student
(after all I started with a big lead on my fellow students), I was
taught to read and write and sing. I was taught the bible and other
such nonsense. After years of study, and the completion of puberty,
it was realized that I was not mentally suited to live the austere
and celibate life of priest.
From there to here is a story for another day involving
conscription into his majesties navy, escape to a ship of free
merchants who engaged in preemptive naval salvage and cargo transfer
operations. Mercenary fighting and generally living the life of