Whistler - Incognito
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Login: Phlegmzubal
Character: Whistler_"Listen up, and listen well. Names are dangerous things. A man knows your name and he's got power over you. I know, learned it the hard way I did.
It's not like I really deserved what happened. You could say there was a bit of an over reaction on old Creaknees' part. What kind of name is that anyway? Creaknees. It's not his real one of course, he knows the power of names. Knows all about it…
I mean the guy was loaded. Wealthiest mage in Calimport. It's not like he was going to miss that poxy ruby. It was worth more to me than it was to him anyway. He had his mansion, his riches, his harem. He liked the sunshine. He liked the desert. That place didn't suit me one bit. I'm from the Dalelands, I like more temperate weather. Not that this place has great weather. If it ain't raining it's snowing. Still, better than sunburn and sandstorms eh?
Anyway, it all started in Baldur's Gate, which would be a great place to settle down if it weren't for those Flaming Fist. By Bane's backside; I swear you can't cross the street without one of them trying to arrest you for something. Or me anyway.
I don't know; do I look like a suspicious character?
Don't answer that!
Right. So. Baldur's Gate. I was working for some... associates. Doing odd-jobs, this and that; whatever would pay a few coins you know? It was all going pretty well really. Had plenty of jink, a nice hovel to call my own and the fresh sea air. Ye gods I was soon to get sick of the fresh sea air lemme tell ya. Me and my... associates had done a good night's work and decided to celebrate. Now I'm reasonably certain we started the night off in the Elfsong Tavern but then it gets a little hazy. Suffice to say we must have drank and wassailed our way across half the city.
When I woke up the next morning my legs felt a lot shakier than they should have done and my arms were in manacles. I've woke up in similar situations before of course, but usually there's a lady nearby. Not so on this occasion. It took me a moment to realise I was chained up in the hold of a ship. I'd been press-ganged! Wasn't long before they had me chained to an oar and rowing for twelve hours straight every day. Luckily I was right next to an enormous half-orc who'd only just come down from the mountains so I didn't have to work too hard.
Over a month I was chained to that blasted oar, the ship must have been trading up and down the Sword Coast. Eventually it wound up down in Calimport and they decided to get some new oarsmen. Which meant getting rid of the old ones. Wasn't long before we were being dragged off to the slave market. I've always been handy with locks and now that we were on dry land, and it doesn't get much drier than Calimport, I could make good my escape. It was fairly undramatic really. I just undid my manacles and slipped away into that sand-blasted city.
Jewel of the Desert they call it. My arse. More like a turd that's been left out in the sun too long. It was too hot, the place always stank of camel and you couldn't drink the water without coming down with a case of the stomach-flux. The falafel was nice though.
Of course I'm a man of opportunity, so after two tendays or so I'd manage to elevate myself from that status of escaped slave to man about town without little trouble. Not hard done really considering they don't believe in windows in Calimport. Not that I'd take advantage of such a thing. No sir not me.
More than a year I was stuck in Calimport. Getting by. Making a name for myself. Ha! More the fool me. Wasn't long before I was a respected Knight of the Post. Needed a... locksmith? Mine was the name they looked for. Think you were going to require a trapspringer? Yup, they came calling for me. Needed something palmed, or better yet planted? I'm the one they asked.
Then came the big job. Never found out the name of my employer. Secretive fellah he was. Big cloak. Hood. Whispery voice. That sort of thing. A bit theatrical but it did the job I suppose.
He was prepared to pay a hell of a lot of gold too. More than I could carry without help let's put it that way. Simple enough job too. Into a mansion, evade the guards, get into the third sublevel and swipe the glowing red ruby sitting on the plinth surrounded by a deep pit full of lava after disarming the numerous swinging blade traps and dispelling the magical wards placed on the room...
Hrrm...
You know now that I say it it doesn't sound quite so simple...
Regardless I managed it. Got in and out without alerting anyone. Had the rather suspicious glowing ruby and none were the wiser. By the next morning I'd handed over the jewel and recieved my compensation. Thinks were looking up. With that much gold I'd be able to afford an even bigger hovel than the one I lived in.
Then it all went pear-shaped. The legitimate owner of the suspiciously glowing ruby was a wizard. A powerful one. Within two days he'd gotten hold of the man who had his gemstone. Wasn't long before he'd found out the name of the man who'd taken it in the first place.
Doesn't take much for a mage to find you if he knows the right spells. A lock of hair, a flake of skin... Your name. I was walking home a few nights later, down a quiet alley, and there he was. Wasn't happy. Wasn't happy at all. Let me know all about it too.
Old Creaknees was a traditionalist though. None of this burning his enemy to death with magical fires, or disintegrations at the click of his fingers that you see nowadays. Oh no. He loves a good curse. And do you know what you need to have in order to craft the best, most insiduous, wicked curses?
That's right.
A name.
So keep your's close. Don't let anyone know it. Don't wanna wind up like me."_
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Reviewed - XP Pending.