The Adventure Begins
Welcome. My name is Menelin. I am a Wood Elf. If you’ll take
the time to speak with me, you will know that I possess a caring heart. I’ll
commiserate with you and your current plight. You’ll open up to me, and feel a comfortable
connection between us.
And that’s what I want you to feel. I will say what you need
to hear, be the listening ear you need, and steal your coin purse while doing
so. That’s what a Rogue does.
Truly, I don’t care if you trust me or not, or if you like
me or not, or even if you care or not. All I care about is me. Well, mostly.
The only person I do quasi-care about is my friend, the
human cleric Ailsa. I call Ailsa ‘A’, because human names are so odd. She once
saved me when I needed saving, and that isn’t very often. My weapons are quite
reliable, thank you very much. But, there are times. So, I’ll stick close to
her when I feel like it. A has another fan that sticks closer to her than I do.
Elspeth, a half-orc with a pleasant enough outlook on life. But don’t piss her
off. I picked her pocket once and the other half of her lineage, the barbarian
half, let me know that she’s not as easy-going as she appears. I’ve been made
to swear to never do that again. It wasn’t that difficult an oath to take, as
I’ve grown fond of my head and didn’t want it caved in.
A hangs out with a gnome wizard by the name of Nyx. Not sure
why. The little thing wants to test for magic in everything! If we pass a rock that catches her eye, she wants to
stop and test it. So frustrating. But, like most things, there are benefits. On
occasion those rocks do hold a magic trap, and I have to admit she was right.
Not out loud, of course.
Then there’s Nimue. I try not to stare when she’s around,
but she is one sexy beast. A full elf, she’s chosen the path of Ranger. She can
shoot a fly off of an orc’s claw, and leave the finger intact. It’s part of the
reason I don’t carry the bow. Why should I? When she’s around, I look like a
child playing with an oversize toy. Even my hand cross bow, which I’m quite
proficient at, seems ludicrous. I only use it when Nimue’s not around. She
encourages me to continue my practice with it, but I’ll stick to my daggers.
Only then, if my rapier won’t do the trick, I’ll use the cross bow. But that’s
rare.
The five of us have gathered for a festival in this small
town. They’re to dedicate a church that had been built to replace the last one,
which had burned to the ground. That’s why we find ourselves in this little
hole in the wall bar, enjoying one other’s company.
Then we heard the screams…
***
IRL I'm a...
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