Ghrandang Sorjen Fallwine the Staunch Combatant of Freedom

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Role

Chapter 2

A storm on the horizon came suddenly one evening. I looked at my sister and
exclaimed my surprise. She mentioned having prayed to any that would hear for
deliverance, but I could not bring myself to believe. Still the storm came on
hard, and our ship was wrecked. We clung to some wood, and were carried
eventually to the Arkham harbor.

We lived as street mongrels for a time, but no one, not even the guards,
would take us in or give succor. I saw a sailor argue with his employer, it
coming to such a head that he tore off his shirt, threw it and his small pay
at his boss, and stalk off. Massive tribal tattoos covered his body, and he
caught me staring.

What do you stare at, boy? Why are you and that dirty girl scurrying from
warehouse to warehouse. I told him Id never seen such marks, and that just
because we were dirty did not mean we were not proud, but that we had no
home.

He asked why, and I did not want to speak. I feared he would try and steal my
sister. But he bent and reassured me in a way I knew could only be genuine.
So I told him our tale, and he was moved. I asked him what he was arguing
about, and he said his employer had tried to cheat him out of greed. He had
had enough, and was forsaking the cities again to go back to the tribe of his
youth, and he offered to take us with him. I looked at my sister and we
agreed, and it was the first time I had felt hope in years. And it embarked
another chapter in my already strange journey.

Role

Chapter 1

I have been hesitant to tell my story. Whether the hesitancy is born from
fear of judgement, or shame that I did not do more, I cannot be certain. What
I do know is that I carry the scars, physical and mental, of my youth with me
to this day.

I was born Sorjen Fallwine, once of Tir-Brandol. The plains town of my
childhood, once just a day's ride from Tir-Talath, was razed in a night of
fire and blood that I wish I could forget. With the orcs rising to power, and
Loke's seemingly eternal lust for wealth and influence, his mines needed more
labor. And so a force both orcish and jaette came and slaughtered most of our
militia, putting in to chains any who lived, and putting the torch to our
once proud home.

We were marched to Sitrian's mines. The next few weeks were hellish as the
parents were separated from their children. The adults were kept to toil in
the blackness of the mines, but the jaettes there had no use for us youth,
and we were bought by a slaver who drove us toward the Desert City.

I had become accustomed to hardship at that point, but I did not know
disappointment could sting as deep as it did one day in the Hamsah market. We
were shackled next to our merchant, who was dickering with some farmer hoping
to compete with the Balator farms. Traveling through the crowd was a cloaked
man in burnished armor, and when he saw us, he stopped to heal my sisters
broken jaw, and give us water. Hope sprang and I asked him, please, to free
us.

But he could not, he said. He was a paladin, and by the laws of the land we
were the merchants property. And in Hamsah, the law was king. And as a
paladin, respect for the law was his Code. And so he watched my face darken,
and was I think saddened. And yet he let us go. And my dislike for any such
rigid codes began that day, and it has not left me since.

We were sold then to a buccaneer, and were to be used as deck aids until we
were old enough to grow to rowers, or in my sisters case, a piece of
amusement. As his boat slipped away from the docks, I felt dejected, lost,
disillusioned. We spent the next few weeks at sea, and I began to fight the
pirates. They would never do me serious harm, but they would taunt me into
attacking. Id never win, but the fights became almost a solace for me.

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