3. Brynden Blackwater

Brynden Blackwater


  • PC: Brynden Blackwater
    Login: Celtic8824

    The Young Kraken's Tale.

    Trystane Blackwater was a very impressive man. A lord of the bustling city, Neverwinter, he was respected by all. The sailors that docked on his ports paid homage to "The Kraken" as he was known widely, by the sigil of his house. A blue Kraken on a deep green backdrop. His wife, Shae, bore him 4 healthy children. 3 Sons, and 1 daughters.

    Their oldest, Connor Blackwater, would be the one to receive his father's lands and titles when The Kraken passed away. He was a strong sailor, and an even stronger fighter. Almost at home in a set of platemail, with a bastard sword in his hand… yet very intelligent and still perfectly able to do practically the same amount of damage with a quill and parchment.

    The next oldest, was the only daughter. Alessa Blackwater was married off to a feuding family to form a truce, and build bridges where they were previously burned.

    Next in line was the middle brother, Rodrik. He was brilliant from the time he dropped from his mother's belly. He decided to take up the cloth... and became a priest to Istishia.

    This left the baby of the family, Brynden.

    Brynden was never a great fighter. He grew up getting pounded on by Connor, and could only drop him if he caught him by surprise. His brother was far too skilled to best one on one. He would wait underneath the stairs, or behind doors for his brother to walk by, before swinging his wooden sword hard at Connor's shins, bringing him down hard with a lot of cursing. His father knew that Brynden wasn't a soldier. He knew he would never be a sailor. He wouldn't sit still through his lessons, and though he was probably smart enough, he had no interest in the arcane arts. He believed in the Water Lord, but wasn't devout enough in his beliefs to be a priest. His family cared a lot for him, but he felt like he was a black fish in the water. He didn't know what he was meant to do.

    One day, while walking along the shipyards around the age of 18, Brynden was grabbed from behind, a sack thrown over his head and beaten until he could no longer stand. He was awakened when the sack was removed violently, and saw 3 brutish looking men, staring him down. He tried to stand up and couldn't. He was tied to the chair. "Your daddy's gonna pay big for you, ain't he Blackwater!" the one in the middle said with a disgusting sneer, showing 2 missing teeth, and one golden one. Days went by... and beatings persisted. He would wake to being punched in the face, and each night he would pass out from the pain of broken bones in his face, arms, and legs. The Kraken didn't seem to be answering the men about the ransom. The messenger said that it was delivered, but had nothing to bring back. This seemed to anger the three men. One of them pulled a knife, about the size of a man's forearm, from his belt. "Well then, looks like daddy needs a little more convincin' eh, little Kraken?" One of the men held Brynden's head from behind, the other braced Brynden's left hand against the chair's arm, and spread the pinky finger away from the rest of the hand. The one with the knife brought the blade high, and let it fall hard on the wooden chair arm. Brynden screamed as his finger was taken, and passed out from blood loss.

    When he awoke, he could tell by the men's faces that it had been a couple of days. Two of them were sleeping, apparently drunk off their arses, and the other was nowhere to be seen. Brynden worked fast at the ropes, which had already been loosened from his attempted flailing at the dismemberment that took part at his cost just days ago. He was able to just barely slide his injured hand, caked with blood, out of it's bindings, and began untying the other arm, and then the legs, and finally, his torso. He stood up and looked around. He saw a partially open door, and heard a bit of a tune being whistled. "The bloody bastard is taking a piss." he thought to himself quietly. He took another look around, and realized he was in a warehouse. Probably been taken a couple towns over, he knew that a few of the nearby towns had smugglers with warehouse hideouts. He reached around the ground until he found a piece of broken glass from a window nearby. He knew from the two laying in front of him that the one outside was the man with the knife. He remembered the times he fought with Connor. He hid directly behind the slightly opened door. He would strike like the Kraken does. It waits under the water, until it's prey is directly on top of it, hidden... until it ends it all in one swift, devastating attack.

    When the man strolled in, whistling his tune, it was cut short by a sharp, inch thick piece of glass in the throat. Brynden stomped on his inner knee, breaking it immediately, and when the man fell to his knees to scream, he sank the glass deep enough into his neck that it was almost buried.

    It was so easy. He never would have guessed that killing a man would be so easy.

    He pulled the knife from the man's belt and walked over to the other two. They were so drunk, they hadn't even been roused from their slumber. He slit both of their throats. "Dad's gonna finally be proud of me. I was a man. I stepped up and did what needed to be done. I never hesitated, not once." he thought to himself as he walked out the door the pissing man had come in from. And saw a familiar sight.

    The ocean.

    He was still in Neverwinter. He couldn't believe it. Turning around and looking back at the warehouse, he realized... it was owned by his family. His mouth turned into a snarl, and he shoved his new blade in his belt, and walked off towards the city gates.

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