Bio:
In every city there's a darker side, not often seen by visitors. You'd expect it in the melting pots; big cities like Freeport and Qeynos. And you wouldn't be surprised, I'm sure, that a place like Neriak has it's darker side - hell, that whole place is dark. True also of the cities where the little pranksters live - halflings, gnomes, dwarfs - who could really trust them anyway? No matter how pure, how lustrous, how noble a city, there's always a dark side. Maybe just a back alley, maybe a pub or an inn. Maybe just some store that always has a "Closed" sign in the window, but folks go in and come out from time to time anyway. You know the type of place; there's one in your town too. And you know the type of person that goes there. He doesn't look you in the eye, but you know he's looking. The girl walking out as he walks in doesn't say a word, but you just know she told him something. You watch as she walks through the crowd, but you lose track of her as if she simply disappeared. It gives you the willies, and so you decide to head to a pub you know, where you feel safe. But you realize when you go to pay for your ale that your coinpurse is gone. Oh, but I assure you - that's a coincidence. You must have dropped it somewhere on the way to the tavern, flustered as you were. Honest. I grew up in Kelethin, not far from our very own place like that, our little dark side. I was on my own most of the time. I never knew my father, and my mother died when I was still a boy. People have the impression that Kelethin is a city that takes care of its own, but then, people also have the impression that it's a city full of noble nature-worshippers who wouldn't harm a fly for fear the trees would get mad. Don't believe everything you hear, kid. When you're an orphaned son of an unwed bar wench, people don't line up to see who gets to take you in. Hell, they wouldn't even look me in the eye, let alone say a kind word to me. It didn't take long before I got used to that - folks not saying anything to me, not looking me in the eye. And so I guess it was just a matter of time before I wound up in that seedier part of town. Let me tell you... when you have to steal just to get by, that's the wrong place to do it. I figured, since the city guard didn't show their face in this part of town, it would be a snap - just grab the money and run. My target was old, with eyes that drifted out at the treetops like he was lost in a dream of better times. I crept up behind him quiet as a mouse and reached for the bulging purse at his belt. And get this... suddenly, my mark, my target, my next meal... he starts whistling! Just a sad little tune, but that's how lost in his daydream he seemed. My fingers had barely brushed against his coinpurse when I heard a noise. I glanced back for just a second, but there was nothing there - just a bird in the trees, I guess. I turned back to my mark, and he was gone. No, strike that. He wasn't gone really. He just wasn't sitting by the edge of the platform, looking out over the treetops. Not any more. He was still there, whistling. I could hear him... behind me. I whirled around to see the point of a wicked looking knife, not a quarter of an inch from my eye. I was sure he'd kill me, and I steeled myself for it. I hoped when he took my life away, it would be quick. It wasn't. He's still doing it now. His name was Expin. And he told me, in words I'll use in a tavern after a few drinks but not in this memoir, that if I wanted to live after my little error in judgement, I'd have to go to work for him. I was terrified at what he would have me do, but as it turned out, for a while I was nothing more than an errand boy in the most conventional sense. It wasn't too bad, actually. I got to travel, taking packages to and from Ak'Anon, Felwithe, Kaladim, and even as far off [message truncated - whole story at http://eq.magelo.com/profile/922775]
In every city there's a darker side, not often seen by visitors. You'd expect it in the melting pots; big cities like Freeport and Qeynos. And you wouldn't be surprised, I'm sure, that a place like Neriak has it's darker side - hell, that whole place is dark. True also of the cities where the little pranksters live - halflings, gnomes, dwarfs - who could really trust them anyway? No matter how pure, how lustrous, how noble a city, there's always a dark side. Maybe just a back alley, maybe a pub or an inn. Maybe just some store that always has a "Closed" sign in the window, but folks go in and come out from time to time anyway. You know the type of place; there's one in your town too. And you know the type of person that goes there. He doesn't look you in the eye, but you know he's looking. The girl walking out as he walks in doesn't say a word, but you just know she told him something. You watch as she walks through the crowd, but you lose track of her as if she simply disappeared. It gives you the willies, and so you decide to head to a pub you know, where you feel safe. But you realize when you go to pay for your ale that your coinpurse is gone. Oh, but I assure you - that's a coincidence. You must have dropped it somewhere on the way to the tavern, flustered as you were. Honest. I grew up in Kelethin, not far from our very own place like that, our little dark side. I was on my own most of the time. I never knew my father, and my mother died when I was still a boy. People have the impression that Kelethin is a city that takes care of its own, but then, people also have the impression that it's a city full of noble nature-worshippers who wouldn't harm a fly for fear the trees would get mad. Don't believe everything you hear, kid. When you're an orphaned son of an unwed bar wench, people don't line up to see who gets to take you in. Hell, they wouldn't even look me in the eye, let alone say a kind word to me. It didn't take long before I got used to that - folks not saying anything to me, not looking me in the eye. And so I guess it was just a matter of time before I wound up in that seedier part of town. Let me tell you... when you have to steal just to get by, that's the wrong place to do it. I figured, since the city guard didn't show their face in this part of town, it would be a snap - just grab the money and run. My target was old, with eyes that drifted out at the treetops like he was lost in a dream of better times. I crept up behind him quiet as a mouse and reached for the bulging purse at his belt. And get this... suddenly, my mark, my target, my next meal... he starts whistling! Just a sad little tune, but that's how lost in his daydream he seemed. My fingers had barely brushed against his coinpurse when I heard a noise. I glanced back for just a second, but there was nothing there - just a bird in the trees, I guess. I turned back to my mark, and he was gone. No, strike that. He wasn't gone really. He just wasn't sitting by the edge of the platform, looking out over the treetops. Not any more. He was still there, whistling. I could hear him... behind me. I whirled around to see the point of a wicked looking knife, not a quarter of an inch from my eye. I was sure he'd kill me, and I steeled myself for it. I hoped when he took my life away, it would be quick. It wasn't. He's still doing it now. His name was Expin. And he told me, in words I'll use in a tavern after a few drinks but not in this memoir, that if I wanted to live after my little error in judgement, I'd have to go to work for him. I was terrified at what he would have me do, but as it turned out, for a while I was nothing more than an errand boy in the most conventional sense. It wasn't too bad, actually. I got to travel, taking packages to and from Ak'Anon, Felwithe, Kaladim, and even as far off [message truncated - whole story at http://eq.magelo.com/profile/922775]
Contact:
© 2024 Fanbyte LLC