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Posiible intro for Flynn Williams.
The small dusty tavern was loud and full of life. It reminded the tall, white haired Flynn Williams of the gullet of his ship when the crew had finished duties and partook in what little revelry was allowed on the Sea Stream.
He pushed his way through the crowd, keeping his pack tight against his chest as he moved. At last he flopped onto a rickety stool and rested his still soaked elbows on the mahogany counter.
"What you be wantin?" Barked the balding server behind the bar. "And why yous wet to da bones? Out fer a late night swim in da murky harbor?"
Flynn ran a hand through his drenched, white hair, pushing it out of his face.
His brown eyes levelled on the man, and through his misery he forced a smile.
"Mead. Warm. And to the second question, my ship has run afoul of the reefs off of the islands south of the harbor. I had to swim it."
The barkeeper fetched a mug and spit in it to wipe out the dust before filling it with rich brown foam.
"Dem islands are a bit off." He said blowing the head from the mug of mead. "Da closest one be a good 10 leagues out. Swam it, says you?"
"So I said and so I say." Replied Flynn reaching for the frothy mug. "I will be needing to...resupply my wares. Where might a chap get some gear at this hour?"
"He be one a dem filthy pirate scum from the islands." proclaimed a rather gruff, hairy man in leathers. "And a liar ta boot if'n he be claimin such a swim."
Flynn drank deep of the mead and rested his head on a hand as the other hand drifted to his rapier handle.
"Aye." He laughed. "I must be a liar for true. You called me on that, sir." He said without turning to see his accuser. "I'll just finish by drink, pay my due, and be on my merry."
"You may not be liken ta pay yer dues here. We duna be sufferin pirates in dees shores."
Flynn didn't seem to even hear. He was lost in thought. The memory of his ships timbers being ripped asunder by unyielding rock. The screams of the crew, his mates, falling into the black waters to escape the ruin. "How many live still?" He thought.
The ring of steel rang crisp behind Flynn, snapping him from haunting visions, and his own sword jumped from his belt. In a flash, Flynn had knocked the leather clad mans blade aside and nuzzled the point of his own against his accusers throat.
"Now you have called me a liar and a thief in front of these good people." Flynn said finding new energy.
The startled mans lip began to trickle blood as his eyes flew wide in surprise. He seemed to have bit his own lip in shock.
"Yet you can prove neither." Flynn continued.
With his free hand he finished his mead, fished a coin from his belt pouch and left it on the counter. Never taking his eyes from the man or relaxing his sword.
So intent was his concentration, Flynn didn't see the mans companion flank him with a bottle, which smartly found the back of his head.
The tavern roared with laughter as the barely conscience Flynn was drug out the door and tossed in the streets. His pack and rapier landing in the nearby mud.
In a daze he could make out the man who's throat he poked shortly before. He grabbed Flynns jaw in a meaty hand as his other fist struck Flynn hard across the face.
"You may no bein a pirate, pretty boy, but yous best learn if'n yous going to kill a man den kill'em. Yous talkin too much!"
Laughter again as the mans boot found Flynns stomach.
He watched, gasping for breath, as the group turned and went back into the smokey tavern leaving him in a heap. His head swam again with visions of his recent trials.
Durgan was born as the fourth son of a minor noble, a lord of a small hamlet, David Lipthinn, named after Lipthinn the hamlet. Wanting to expand his influence at every turn, his father sent him into the city to train as a cleric at only 7 years of age. Completely undevout, his father simply left him with the first clergyman he came across.
Durgan took this random occurrence to be a sign of his destiny with the church of Trithereon and studied for years only seeing his father once a year for festivities but not the rest of his family. Durgan quickly became obsessed with the sky at both day and night as well as the freedom fighting that he was being trained for.
His opportunity came at last when he was a man. Word came to the temple that orc slavers had taken a number of villagers from small towns nearby, Lipthinn included. So he set off with a small contingent of his fellow clerics and a company of guards.
It was supposed to be a quick break in and rescue. But it never goes to plan. The break in through the palisade was quick, but the alarm was raised earlier than expected. Durgan had to smash chains with his hammer and his god's will as guards fought orcs right behind him. Only 10 prisoners got out from two tents, where there were 8 tents pitched up.
Durgan had to flee along with a single battered guard and a crying woman. They ran the whole night in a single direction, not knowing whether they were getting closer to or further from civilization.
One week later the guard was lost to the perils of the forest. Durgan never knew what took him. Whatever it was it was huge. He took the woman, Lilia Baker, and just ran not turning back. Bursting from the treeline he was thankful that his first sight was a city on the horizon and he made a beeline for it.
(If it's possible I'd like this to be my reason for being in the city. The woman can wander off at any time now that she's safe.)
Erallis walks aimlessly about the market. His long black hair is tied back in a ponytail,and his sixteen year old face sports scruff mimicking as a beard.
He stops a random passerby, "Excuse me, have you seen a knight around here? He's really tall, and he's got one of those conical helmets with the eyeslit thingy, and he's wearing really shiny plate mail. He might have been spouting about Justice, that's kind of his thing. Single minded, Y'know?"
The passerby shakes her head, Erallis sighs and carries on. He eventually finds himself outside the tavern where Flynn has just been beaten senseless.
"Hey, you alright?" He asks, jogging up to the injured man.
Out of Character: So Erallis is looking for his friend, Gregmon. That's basically his entire back story.
Durgan stumbles through the city stopping at the first inn or tavern by the gate. After a short walk through the docks he spots one. Walking closer he sees two figures on the doorstep. Leaving Lilia to lean on the wall, he crouches by the prone figure, pushing Erallis. Stench of mud, sweat and nature exudes from the cleric.
"Move it, I can help this man!" He says as he inspects Flynn. His mud caked hands undo a few straps and move clothes but everything seems to be in order.
After a minute, the cleric says, "he'll be alright. But my charge and I won't be for long."
He supports Lilia on his shoulder and walks up to the bar. The balding barman has a disgusted grimace and says "What you be..."
Durgan interrupts "Room, food, water, bath. NOW! Payment after."
"I think ye will find tha..."
Dugran glares at the bartender puts his face right up to his and says "NOW" Powerfully and exuding a terrible breath.
The bartender backs off and throws him a key. "Twelve," Says the barman simply and adds, "Food and drink be brought up."
"Make it water," Says Durgan, in a much softer tone and heads upstairs with the woman.
Erallis crouches over Flynn, grinning gleefully.
"Hey. That guy just healed you and then ran off. Did that woman he was with look drunk to you?"
Out of Character: I think we should move the game forward quickly.
A half hour later, with the woman asleep upstairs, a bathed cleric in a moist and tattered (with visible repairs) blue robe descends the stairs. His holy symbol is hidden, but his demeanor suggests otherwise. He walks over to the bar and hand the barman a pouch of coin in exchange for a mug of strong stout.
He looks around for the man he helped earlier and the other concerned citizen.
Erallis sits at a table in the corner of the bar. He waves at the Cleric as he surveys the bar, then approaches him, a pint of honeyed mead in his hand.
"(laugh)...Tuckered her out already, eh?"
The scruffy rogue takes a swig of his mead.