3. Relinquish.

Relinquish.


  • 0.1
    _-Preface:

    Before we get started on this series of tidbits and tales, I figure I should properly introduce myself. My name is Alan Schek. I'm a twenty five year old spellsword newly arrived to Narfell from Waterdeep. I'm a city slicker, I like smoking and fighting and best of all: Freedom. I don't like tying myself down to anything I'm not interested in because such is against my beliefs. I fight sometimes; because in this crazy world you got to know how to defend yourself if you like living. I prefer calculated, tactical fighting over passionate raging battles. I like to think I keep my cool well enough.

    -Background:

    Like I said before, I come from Waterdeep. It's a nice city with nice folks, for the most part. My familey ran a business of exporting cloth goods. In smaller words; they sold clothes to people. I worked for my dad. The reason I left my familey and Waterdeep is probobly because of the fights I kept picking with my familey. It's my fault we faught so much, not that I'll ever admit it. Not to anyone and not to myself, heh. Fights were usually about stupid things like salary, being late, sleeping with the secretairy – but anyway, point is the old man didn't exactly have a smooth ride with me working for him. So I left. No big deal, not for me anyway.

    -Present Day:

    I live in this city called Peltarch. It's a dull town if you ask me, full of ego maniacs and little 'guilds' that people like to form. The dames are nice, they got alot of nice bard ladies. Met one in particular, she's a real femme fatale. Caliendra Stormdancer, heh, think I might like this one. She probobly hates my guts worst then a Tyrran hates Bane, but that doesn't stop her from teasing the hell out of me every chance she gets. That dollface, included her in the introduction – just 'cause I can._


  • 0.4
    _-Early birds and worms, Part II.

    "Err, my prices huh?" It's not that hard, you dolt. Just make up prices. "Er, about 40 gold a trip. Dependin' on the danger and length and all that…" I smile, shifting my gear. She chuckles, then grins, commenting, "Wow, you won't ever be making any gold that way. It's way too steep." I chuckle as well, then furrow a brow, thinking. Mercenaries... Can't be that hard. All you do is do what your boss tells you to do, and then you get payed. Not that bad at all. Plus you get to smack stuff around. Heh.

    So we get to talking. I was right. This girl in front of me ain't no bonny lass, no sir. She's experienced, she obviously knows her stuff. She tells me of how she worked for some well-to-do preistess called Rith Phoenix Feather. She also tells me her name: Kaywen.

    "Kaywen? I must say that is a charmin' name, mam." It really is, you know. "I'm Alan Schek, small-time mercenary and bounty hunter, at your service." Fibbing's so easy once you get the hang of it. Besides, I'm not exactly 'fibbing' per say; just stating the truth a bit early, is all. Yeah, that's right, I've decided on a job finally. Going to be a mercenary bodyguard bounty hunter... thing. Whatever. You get the drift.

    -The B.S. Mercenaries.

    So me and Kaywen stroll over to Jiyyd's pub. We buy ourselves some ale and keep talking. She had her own mercenary organisation once, she called it the "Blue Shields" mercenaries. So yeah, we keep talking, and seen as how we're both mercenaries… (Hey, I'm not lying. I'm one now, arn't I?) We decide to go into business together, chatting at that smokey table in the Regal Whore inn.

    "But..." After a long chat of vague things, she speaks up, wiping her mouth from the downed ale. "Hm?" I furrow my brow, listening, leaning on my elbows. "I gotta teach you how to use that greatsword of yours better." She grins, I chuckle. "Sure thang, you can teach me tomarrow mornin' or something around those lines." She smiles and nods. "Good."_


  • 0.3
    _-City life.

    Hot. So hot. "Gods-damned scorchin' sun…" I mumble, as I blink my burning eyes open, squinting at the open window of my cheap Peltarch Inn room. Blood pounding it's way into my head with every heart throb.

    I can't believe I left the sodding thing open, should of checked whether or not it faced east for sunrise. Ah, well. "Early bird gets the worm," some guy said one time, for some reason, some place, ... whatever. I shift myself into sitting position, shirtless and sweating on the bed. Stupid heat. Stupid head-hurts. Forget the heat, forget the headache -- make sure you weren't robbed in your sleep and then finally ditch this crap room. "Yeah..." I mumble again, rubbing my face and blinking a few more times to make sure I'm proper awake.

    I glance at the pile of equipment I dropped near the door. Then I take a gander at the ale bottles next to it. "Well, that explains the throbs in my noggon." I smirk to myself, reachin' for the white shirt and tugging it on. My eyes find themselves flickering over the gear, taking mental notes and making sure my stuff's accounted for, at least for the most part.

    -Vagabond noble.

    I hate waking up early. It's quieter then usual, the sun's at a strange angle, heck, it even smells wierder. At least I'm out of that stuffy Inn Room, I mutter, looking around the Peltarch Dock streets. Maybe I can find myself some work around here somewhere… The gold I borrowed from the old man's runnin' out quick enough, and I don't even got myself a steady income yet. Maybe leavin' was a bad idea. Maybe I can still get my sorry butt back to Waterdeep and beg pops for my job back...

    "No. Stop thinking like that, you idiot." I smack myself mentally, rolling my eyes and cracking a grin. I'll find work, I just need to look in the right places. Walking past the usual folks in the city, looking abouts calmly, hooking my thumb in my belt, I begin thinking.

    Glancing to my right I see a familiar sign hanging from an equally familiar door. The seafarer's guild. Seafarer's? Naw, got fired there already. Used to be a delivery boy. Turns out I showed up late one time too many. Who'd of thunk being independent and taking the initiative without even asking the boss, trying to set your own, customised and easier-then-before schedule would get you fired? Wierd.

    I shift my absent gaze left. The loan shark office. Loan shark office? Heh, heck with that idea. I hate desk jobs. A guardsman nods with a friendly smile as I pass, I return both myself and continue on my way. Maybe I could become a Peltarch Guard? …N'uh-uh, nevermind. They look like faeries with them stupid teal uniform thangs. I chuckle, rolling my eyes finally finding a bit of humor in my morning.

    Might as well head south, maybe find some work there.

    -"Early bird gets the worm."

    I find myself on the near east road again, heading towards my favorite pub and favorite lil' town. Might as well spend my last few golds on something entertaining – Like that dancer Chesty for example. Heh. Little do I know the so-called early bird's about to snatch itself a worm. Whatever that means.

    Before I can even see the gates, this toned, armored gal with a scythe steps in my way. Confident, cool -- Yeah, she ain't no bonny lass. Her eyes are hard, but not exactly unfriendly. Let's hope she ain't a bandit, eh? She shifts her wight, pushing back her loose brown hair before smiling and speaking up; "Hey there!" She calls over above the wind, her feet stepping heavily before haulting a few paces away from me. I smile myself, taking a moment to gather my thoughts, as well as keep a decent guard up. I keep smiling. "Evenin' mam-"

    Before I could say much more, she cuts me off, "Sir, you in need of a Mercenary or bodyguard?" I blink, considering this. Mercenary? Bodyguard? Help's always nice, too bad I can't afford it. But I ain't about to admit to anyone I'm havin' money problems. I'm stubborn like that. "Eh... Actually, I don' need one. Y'see..." Always smiling, I spin up a decent fib to keep whatever shred of false pride I got left. I continue. "...I'm a merc' myself. So, yeah, don' need one." Clearing my throat, what's a little white lie if it means keeping your pride? Not much. At least not much in my opinion.

    "Really?" Her tone hints interest. Ah dammit. "What are your prices?" She asks, curiously. Double dammit. How'm I gettin' outta this one?_


  • 0.2
    _Chapter I: New friends, new beginnings.

    -Frigid footsteps.

    The sword in my back gets heavier and heavier, the soles of my boots colder and wetter. I hate travelling to Jiyyd, but I can't help it if my favorite inn with my favorite exotic dancer just happens to be smack-dab in the middle of it. Snowing, always snowing this far west. I finally fight my way through the bitter storm, spotting the gates in the distance between the windy white flakes falling from the sky.

    My fingers find themselves curling up into a fist, my knuckles knock against the cold hard wood gate. "Who goes there?" The stuck-up guard woman opens the tiny hatchway to peer out towards me. It's that white haired stiff, Just'ene. She notes I'm not a hob-goblin, thank Akadi. She slides the wooden shaft from it's interlace, disabling the gate lock and letting me in for a warm welcome.

    -"Warm welcome."

    My heels stride into the familiar Jiyydian grass, I smile to Just'ene as she ignors me, locking the gate back up again. Running a hand through my curly, black hair, I make my way towards the trump inn of the region, the regal whore – Only to have that nicely curved, pale blue figure, clashing across black leather step in front of me. Deep blue eyes between pixie ears, above a perfect nose and thin lips, below shirt, navy hair. "Hello dahling..." She tilts her head, her overfamiliar voice dancing it's way into my ears. Caliendra Stormdancer, a devil under angel's guise. The query of what a bird like this is doing in a small-time town like Jiyyd poses itself in the back of my head.

    A bemused smirk plays across my lips. Well, well: if it isn't my favorite femme fatale. "Hey there sweet-cheeks," my smirk cracks it's way into a smile as I stick a prerolled cigar into my mouth, striking a flint to light it, "What brings those curves my way?"

    She lets out a low, drawn-out, exasperated sigh before strolling her way towards me with a pout. "Boredom." She states, circling me and running her finger across my cheek. She smells like sweet-heart's should smell, but that still doesn't make her any less devious. A real siren.

    -Femme fatale.

    Thing you gotta know about gals like Cali is that they're never really who they claim to be. But she's bored, and who am I to ditch a lady like this? I suggest we head on up to the big city to peruse the new clothing shops. We stroll out of Jiyyd into the eastern road, set for Peltarch.

    I'm starting to think she only keeps me 'round 'cause I've got a large blade on my back and some decent brawn going for me. Starting to think she's only with me so I can take hits from those two hob-goblins stepping out in front of us while we make our way across Jiyyd's eastern road.

    -Warm welcome, part II.

    "You hold them, big boy." She exclaims, that sweet little voice of hers bustling with excitement – while my sword blocks a scythe from ripping it's way clean through my face. I hate being bait. The second hobgoblin's got a hand-axe, he lunges forward with a snarl. I hope back easily and smack his weapon with mine, close but no cigar. My angel-faced partner sneaks up behind the two monsters, who happen to be swinging those blades at me worst then two badgers in mating season -- I hate being bait.

    "Just a little longer…" I tell myself, getting pushed back further and further, what's taking Cali so long? I don't see her. She better not of made with the easy get-away. She better not of left me for dead. Screw it, time to stop toying around and go on the offensive.

    Before I even get the chance to switch stances that sweet-heart smell tickles the inside of my nose -- while a short-sword tickles the inside of the first hob-goblins head. Caliendra strikes him down from behind, she took her time, she planned her attack. Slick. Real slick.

    The second growling freak turns his scythe towards her direction, those deep blue eyes of hers widen in alarm. Too wide for my liking. Mister growling freak turned his attention somewhere else from me, now's my chance. My sword's still low at my left thanks to the last strike it took. I shift my weight, pull the sword high and slash clean through the hob-goblins gut, spraying cherry pie on the road behind him.

    -Good night for shopping.

    "You know you could of done whatever the heck you just did a little quicker, dollface." It starts raining, we're in the pass now, trudging our way north. I'm still a bit shaken up from our little fight. I remember my pops telling me before I left waterdeep, I remember him saying if I attended that fighter's academy I could take anything wrong.

    Maybe I should of taken the old man up on his offer. Second thought; nevermind, heh. Having to listen to some geaser spitting out combat stances and orders for a few years just 'cause my old man tells me it'll make me stronger? No thanks, no dice.

    She takes a deep breath, smiling, twirling around and splashing in the rain. She's having a ball – we almost just got killed. I'm liking this dame more and more every time I see her. Ignoring the earlier comment, I chuckle at the amusing, dancing display, sticking a familiar cigar in my mouth. "Good night for shopping, angel eyes?"

    She stops her spinning and leans forward a few paces from me, folding her arms behind her back, replying, smiling, "Good night for shopping."_