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 a goliard.