Been here too long.
My main character is linked in my signature, but I'll use this post to introduce my alt!
In the case that I am not satisfied with my first life, ie play style or mechanics or whatever, or if the area I want to be doesn't end up being Brudvir I will recreate my most beloved video game character I have ever played: Faren, the Dwarf Legionnaire Scout/Assassin from Dragon Age: Origins Awakenings
Name: Faren edit: Gavorn
Tribe: Hrothi-Kypiq mix
Occupation: Deviant -> Cartel Enforcer
Backstory:
PART ONE Sorry for the damage...Pleasure doin business
Faren heaved a sigh and set down his mug of ale on the dirty counter and took one last glance around. He signaled the barkeep as he set out enough coin to pay for many times his bill. "Sorry for the damages."
The barkeep's quizzical gaze followed him as he stood and turned from the bar. Recognition lit upon the grubby inn's owner when he looked to the corner that Faren now stumbled toward. "Here we go again," he said under his breath, preparing himself for trouble. It was a common scene in the taverns in this part of town, Cartel enforcers often come in to settle debts, but this enforcer had a reputation. Honorable in his business dealings, not so much in his fighting.
This combination had set Faren on a meteoric rise through the ranks in the less-than-legal dealings prolific in the outskirts of Hrothi business districts.
Faren continued his stumbling approach to a table occupied by a Neran and two Hrothi, all three deep in a whispered conversation. As he neared silence fell at the table and he confirmed the identity of his target. Faren exaggerated some heaving and the trio dismissed him as a passing drunk and continued in hushed tones.
A wicked grin found it's way onto his face, it clashed with his un-Hrothi like delicate features, now came the fun part. With one last step he passed the Neran and quickly turned to violently slam the mann's face into the table. Looking to the startled Hrothi, Faren shouted "Excuse me, boys!" He then kicked the chair out beneath the dazed Neran and faced the others with a glare that dared them to try him, "Run along now, I've just got a bit o'business with our friend here." And run they did, to his disappointment, apparently his rep was starting to do the work for him.
Clucking to himself he placed the groaning Neran in an unbroken chair, "Buncha gutless rats yer dealing with now, eh?" He slapped the Neran awake, "Hey, Mr. big ol drug dealing scum, ya know what's goin on yet?" The mann spit blood out in reply. "That's alright, take yer time, I've got all night, but it would behoove you to hurry, if it takes too long I'm gonna have to take my own cut as well as my boss's." Shaking away the last of his dizziness the Neran finally seemed to realize what was happening, "Fine," he growled, digging out his purse, "But what's with the crackdown? You've been squeezing pretty hard lately, Faren." Tossing the usual tithe across the table. "Business has been good to you, so you gotta be good to us." Collecting the coins, "And it has been a pleasure doing business, oh, and don't be late with it next time, so we can have a more pleasant conversation." What he didn't say was his boss was ramping up for a war with another faction, and Brudvir mercs and Waerd assassins are expensive.
Part Two Fireside thoughts
With a heavy thud Faren's fine dual shortswords hit the floor followed by his studded leather jerkin, steel bracers, and the rest of his gear. Soon thereafter the rich smell of Waerd sourced tea filled his home. Faren looked around his well furnished home and started to ponder as he was wont to do each evening, recording notes and tidbits in his coded journal. A habit he picked up with a Waerd colony during his travels. Thinking back he regarded that time fondly, much better than his rough and wild childhood.
Faren's upbringing was unconventional at best. Born to a minor Hrothi noble turned kingpin and his Kypiq consort, Faren was left mostly to himself on the streets, running errands for the family and learning the way of the streets. While it was a dangerous and often illegal lifestyle, he never went hungry. That is until age fourteen when a rival cartel faction wiped out his entire family. No longer beholden to anyone Faren and possibly in danger from the same ones who destroyed his family he set out on his own, exploring the world, picking up skills and selling his services.
But home had eventually come calling when cartel assassins found him. After dispatching the would be killers, Faren decided to return and make sure he no one came after him again, with a little fancy paperwork written up by some of his Waerd contacts. Now under a fake surname he was working his way up, and soon he would have access to the the rival cartel noble.
(Oh crap I'm starting to like this idea more than my original, help me!)
Been here too long.