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||I don't remember much of my mother. Bout the only memory of her I have |
was watching a cloth wrapped body being taken away on a deathcart to
Ember House. Fancy way of calling a place where you burn the bodies of
people who couldn't affort a burial or dirt poor.
In Cauldron, the city where I was born, I was raised by friends of my
mother. Street toughs and prostitutes, a half-orc bouncer and even
scholar that feel on hard times. She was the one that taught me to read
and write. There was even a dwarf named Thengar, who taught me how to
work a forge, even after the stunt I pulled on him as a joke. I'm just
glad his hair grew back out.
The streets, strangers, ex-mercenaries and brawlers taught me how to
fight. I joined up with the Knives, a local gang that had a rivalry with
a half-orc gang called the Fangs. Things eventually cooled down
between em, though the occasional flare up happens now and again.
I found out a quick and dirty way to earn some good coin, pit fighting.
Naturally I'm good at hurting people so I tried it out. I brokes
bones, shattered knees, cut, smashed and ran people through. I'm not
opposed to giving people some hurting and I'm damn proude I didn't kill
anyone, except once. Thrill killer named Thrask, nasty as they come, and he
loved the killing something fierce. Took everything I knew just to
stay in once piece, and took nearly all I was to bring him down on a
permanent basis. I wasn't proud of it but it had to be done.
Now I'm looking to get out. Maybe become an adventurer or something.
Got a halfling named Billy Bodkins I know looking to starting up a
group. Worked with him a few times befor, good man with a knife. Maybe he
needs someone with muscle to join up. I might just look him up..
|Mr. Smith||Ishmy'Ael Arcades, Space Farer|
|My version of a Wyvern||Willow|
|Nasby the Transmuter||Mad Dog... the Doberman!|