The Good, The Bad & the Not so Ugly

[Brimsar the Wanderer]

I awoke with a start in a strange bed, in a strange town. The only thing that was famaliar was the woman lying next to me. How long had it been? It was good to be near her, to smell her, to look at her, to touch her.

The howl of a wolf tore me away from my thoughts.

Close... too close. That sound was near. Inside the town.

I had come to Mulhessen for my own reasons, to watch someone and as an excuse to see Her. I did not come for some vein of silver as the dwarves and blacksmith Jo'dan had. But our fates were intwined when my target agreed to go with them.

We had stumbled across a near army of goblins and their hobgoblin overlords. Dark and damn'd these things had power. Even hired ogres and walking dead at their disposal. We had retreated back to the town the night before.

My mind raced.... they must have attacked Mulhessen in retailiation.

Her....I have to get Her out of here.

I jumped from the bed, hastily throwing my leathers on, and grabbing my blades, as I ran out the door. Charles and Violet were up, both bloody and bruised.

The town is under attack.

Can we escape?

Men are dying.

So?

As we run downstairs, Bolain staggers into the Inn, Soapie's form over his shoulder. The goblins had attacked. Worg and goblin roamed the town, killing all who dared be outside.

How long til they torch the Inn? I must get Her out of here. To hell with this forsaken back-water village. I owe these people nothing.

I run up stairs to gather Her and her things.

After taking a look outside, I know... death is upon us. There is no other possible way.

With a look to Charles and Bolain we know what must be done. I turn to Her, my child hood friend, my love, and the only light in my darkness. "I love you" It was the first time I had openly admitted it; to myself let alone to Her. A gentle kiss and out the door the three of us go.

Charles slipped in under my whirling cloak to strike goblin on the back of a worg as Bolain and I held off foot soldiers. The area was quickly cleared.

"Let's GO!"

Violet, Soapie (now holding herself up of her own accord thanks to Violets healing touch) and Her. We fight our way to the the town gates, leaving the village militia to fight, the bulk of the invading goblins. No acts of bravery on our part... just self preservation. Let the brave and the foolish die.

Violet had Her... holding her arm, when she was cut off by a worg rider. I seen it out of the corner of my eye as I slipped from the village.

"Dark and Damn'd" - I can not leave her. But the others would not leave. How could I lead Charles to his death? He had proven himself. He understood when not to ask questions. He would not allow me to go back in alone, despite his... all of our... wounds. But she was my love, my responsibility.

Odd to say, but a dwarf on a pony is what saved me the mental battle that raged in my mind. Another of them dwarves, a dwarven priest, Onius showed from the road to the south, being harried by goblins himself, while the others rushed to his rescue I pulled the cloak over my head and slipped back into to town silently.

As I walked silently thru the town, a blood trail marking my passing, I called out for Her. Not long and the others were there, helping me search. Why? the fools.... do they not know me? Do they think I would return the favor?

I finally found Her, outside the wooden walls. Seems she has not been idle in our time apart. I jumped the wall, with a shout back to the others.

I hope they heard me. I have Her though. She was the reason I risked it all to go back in.

Irritation is evident in her voice. She is scared, angry and no doubt confused. "Be mad at me tomorrow, love." I whisper as we leave the town of Mulhessen behind.

The others had obviously heard me or been repelled, as we caught up with them just outside the main wooden gates.

We slowly made our way back to Selgaunt. Even having to ride on the back of a horse, like some cheap saddlebag at one point.

So much blood was lost.

Only Her, kept my blades swinging when my muscles burned. Only Her, kept my feet moving, when lying down seemed to be so inviting. Only Her could make me go to such lengths.

Now back home, with her in my arms, I know not if Mulhessen yet stands. Word has reached me that some dare go back, to help in the fight of Mulhessen.

She looks to me, with those eyes. Soft yet determined eyes. She would not deny me, regardless of the path I walk, but I would deny her neither.

"No" I say. "There is nothing there for me. Now"

[Misty]

I really enjoyed that.

[Longhorn]

Nice story there Brim. Wondering if Aeron should think about heading down to Sembia.

[ravin]

great job!

[NESchampion]

An excellent read.

[Kildahr]

Just spent some time reading that Brim.

You should really write more often of Vastiani's exploits and real emotions, it adds to his mystique for those of us that have to figure him out IG.

[Brimsar the Wanderer]

Just spent some time reading that Brim.

You should really write more often of Vastiani's exploits and real emotions, it adds to his mystique for those of us that have to figure him out IG.

Thanks all... I've actually been thinking about doing a bit more "mind set" stuff, but so much of Vastiani is people not really knowing him or where his loyalties truely lie. I've been accused of him being everything from a harper to a zhent, and about a dozen things inbetween...

that said.. expect more - though not often.

[Brimsar the Wanderer]

By the Gods I hate incompetance!

The man probably had promise at one point in his life. Probably could have been something besides a simple rough neck. But that is the way of life. Promise slipped by as he consumed drug after drug. Now he was a slave to his own desires. His needs for a substance. He could have been something more. A Black Knight perhaps. A hired bodyguard even. But now he stands outside, night and day, half guarding the Boss, and half trying to make his next score of the dust.

Fools!

My mark had slipped away. All I did was ask some local tough where he went, offered to pay even.

Simple question, I'd expect a simple answer. But things never go so simple when you deal with the mentally weak. Next thing I know, I am inside. Waiting on the Boss. But again, dealing with another fool. He wont go get the Boss, cause his indulgences led him to have a common street girl, get the better of him.

"Deal with her and I'll get the Boss." - he tells me, as she cries in the corner.

For the love of the gods, is anyone here competant. Irritated I drag the stuggling, sobbing woman from the building by her hair.

I admit my first thought was to let her go. To maybe even give her coin. I am not so righteous as to look down my nose at a whore. She offers honest goods at an honest price. Without the lust of men, she would starve to death or worse. Who is truely to blame then, the woman that sells her charms or the idiot that cannot keep his pants on.

Do not mistake my mindset for pity. I pityed not this woman, she had chosen her profession, and for that I have no pity. But neither did I care that she had pissed off some man, that could not keep his pants on. Someone that could not control his lust. Someone that had let a common whore, get the better of him.

I drag her away from the place, to an old abandoned building. Holding her against the wall by her hair, I simply ask her. "have you used that stuff?" the drugs... was she truely an honest working girl, like Her, the one I had fought and fled Mulhessen for?

The whore cried, she begged, but she did not answer my question. I swear I am getting tired of having to repeat myself to incompetent fools. I studied the woman with an intense gaze as I repeated my question. The years of whoring and drug use evident on her face and boney thin frame. She begged, she cried but she still did not answer my question.

Oh well, I grow tired of repeating myself, and slide the black jeweled dagger across her throat. She died there, pleading for mercy as blood filled her throat, but still not answering my fecking question.

I leave the building heading back, irritated. The death of the young whore, did nothing but add to the irritation at the amount of incompetance I had dealt with this day. My mark was long gone now, no doubt, and I was stuck here dealing with idiots and morrons.

As I walked back through, the tough that I had dealt with earlier, scampiers out of my way and another opened the door for me.

"Finally, some respect." I thought as I entered. The idiot that could not take care of his own whores, quickly went and informed the Boss I was here.

Once talking to him, I could tell this one was a man of means. He had a presence about him. And we conducted our business. My mark had gotten away, but the Boss, would find him and find some information for me.

I leave, respect on the faces of the men evident as I pass, my only thought was "Does the Boss, truely need the dust to keep his incompetant men in line or does the dust make the men incompetant? A shame."

[White Warlock]

Nice style Brimsar. The italics is a bit hard to read.

[Inaubryn]

Don't listen to him, Brim. The italics are fine. But I like it. Good pace, good insight into the character. Obviously, not knowin' the character I'm a bit lost as to what's goin' on, but I'm sure later stories will lend some clarity to that. Keep doin' whatcha do.

[Nyarlathotep]

I mus tsay that I like the cut of Vast's jib after reading this...the last one especially shows potential.

[Brimsar the Wanderer]

I sit here, within Little Calimport, late at night, few patrons are about and Rashid tiredly is cleaning up for the night. I sit in my customary spot, back against the wall a glass of spiced wine in my hand. Nothing would seem out of the ordinary this night for the casual observer, but those that know me best, they know I don't partake of alchohol. It dulls the mind, makes one a second slower to react. In my world that one second can mean the difference between life and death. A minor thing, but one the most observant may pick up upon. The glass has but a few sips removed from the contants, as I sit quietly in the candle light tavern, deep in thought:

So there it was. The benefit of a reputation that I had climbed to achieve. People notice when I pass. They marked my movements best they can. Life is good. She is safe, business is good, and my list of informants and minions grow with each passing tenday.

T'was night as I walked the roughest area of the city. This area, not patroled by the Black Knights. This area, which inspired fear as the sun set on the western horizon. This area that had seen the death of countless fools and would be heroes.

I remember those days, when I too found shelter or fled the Coppers as the sun sank and the shadows lengthened. I remember even clearer the days when I could do business here as the shadows protected and hid me. Now, I needed not flee the darkness, nor hide in it. Now I walk openly, those that cut thier living out of hardship, skill and bravado, take notice but understand that I am no easy mark to pick upon.

Where ever I go, no matter the wealth accumulated, this here; the Copper Alleys of Selgaunt, will always be my home, this the place of my birth.

I entered the Red Bear that night, to speak to one of my men. An indescript lad that kept me informed of the dealings within the shadier part of the city.

Dargon points to me as I enter, speaking to a hooded stranger. The man approached. I could tell quickly he was uncomfortable being here, in this Tavern, in this district, at night.

We talked. He asked my assistance. I accepted. He paid. He left.

My only instructions were simple. No mistakes, and let him know his transgressions had caught up with him. Finding my mark was not difficult, despite his recent marriage he had been spending quite a bit of time in the Rose Garden of late.

The door opened, as he headed home to his wife.

I called his name. "We must talk."

"We do?"

"Yes. Come on."

We walked to the end of the pier, a pier within eyesight of the place I had spoken to his wife earlier, where she reflected on love and joy. The irony that I would be taking her love and her joy did not escape me.

Thoughts ran thru my head, battling out the inevitable. I mean, afterall I had accepted the mark and been paid in advance, their was no question to the outcome, but ones mind is a fickle thing.

He has been a good man for you.

No! He was a good man, til she ruined him.

He knows not to ask questions.

He is an associate.

No, he is a mark.

"You have made powerful enemies" - I say softly in the darkness.

His reply "I have?"

"Your transgressions have not gone unnoticed."

He raised a brow at me, I think it sunk in then. The look on his face. He knew what was next, it was not anger or denial, but surprise. Not surprise that it had come to this, but surprise that it was me, The Dark Prince of Selgaunt his wife had dubbed me, that would carry out his fate.

"Understand it's not personal, it's just business" - I sank the poison coated longsword into his gut then. He did not fight it, he just stared at me. There was no anger, no betrayal, no shock on his face anymore. His look was more calm, almost thankful. Perhaps it gave him comfort it was I, holding the blade and not some unknown.

I dumped the body in the harbor then, with a final look to my sinking companion, and came here to this tavern.

I look up from my nearly empty glass of wine, I must have drank more absently in the reflection of it all. I set the glass down, nearly three-fourths of the liquid consumed and walk to the door.

"It was as much pity for what he'd become as it was the coin in my purse, or the reputation" - I tell myself as I pull my dark cowl above my head and walk out, into the darkness.

None noticed my passing this night. I did not want them to.

*****

Thanks to FI for DMing and those PCs involved in this. Names were withheld to protect the guilty. The innocent need no such protection.

[Mizbiz]

Fantastic job!

[Electryc]

You evil bastad. Nice story

[Nyarlathotep]

Vas seems sad, he should find a way to enjoy his work more. I suggest arson.