The Story Of Elita
Hattiefattner Island, South of Middle Earth, and East of Dinotopia, is a home away from home to the Hattiefattners; tall thin white beings with many arms. It is on this Island where the origins of Elita-1 can be traced back to. Firstly you will need to know a few things about me, I am a half troll/ half Hattiefattner, how this is possible - you will just read on. Moving on, I make no secret of the fact I am blind and do to unforeseeable events, I now travel with what I can only describe as a dancing fish prostitute.
Growing up in the conditions I was given, a lone Island, an inattentive lusus known only to me as Hat-mom who visited me once a year, a father I've never known or ever will probably no thanks in part to my current caretaker figure if she/it could be called such, and the mute and emotionally depraved Hattiefatters; who let me say weren’t the most supportive beings in the world. Like I said, I don't know or ever will know my father, from what I was told on a visit from Hat-mother, he came on a boat that might have left from Dinotopia arriving on the Island during a thunder storm. During one of the yearly lightning festivals, he arrived and laid his 'seed' into the ground. By this simple act I was informed that his seed gave root to my sprouting. That is the tale they've told, honestly I think he was some drunk who drifted upon the land and did his thing disturbing the sacred soil where the young sprouted.
Hat-mother – how to articulate what I have thought for so many years, giving voice where there was none before. All the hatred pulled into a single being so out of tune with parental care that her nautical sense was her only care. This unemotional being who for one short day taught me how to use telepathy... Oh I failed to disclose that didn't I, being born on the Island the Hattiefattners were not much for talking, they were all telepathic to certain degrees. Being born on the same Island myself, I developed the ability as well, rarely will you hear me speak. Getting back to the topic at hand, I was raised for a grand total of twenty some days over the course of twenty years for which the rest of the other seven-thousand two-hundred and seventy-one days I was alone to fend for my self on a deserted hunk of rock with no one to talk to.
My departure from the Island I knew and hated all my life came like a tornado, I was abducted by what could only at the time be described as a trollian fish prostitute with no pants, then again I was born and as I would later be informed by an associate of my abductor and I quote born “butt-f*ck naked”. I was taken when this troll who lacked pants claimed she saw me alone naked on the beach as she was dropping the newest inhabitant of the Island, a troll she identified later as the mutineering ass that tried to kill her twice and failed. Seeing me and like I said unforeseeable circumstances later I came to be her new project clothing me and teaching me her trade of coning people out of their gold. That tale however, is one for another day, maybe one when I finally get trusted to hold a pen and ink and not blow things or inns up in the process.