The Polite Rogue and the Ungrateful Warrior

One does not become an expert in their walk of life without some practice, and practice was exactly what Branir, a dwarven rogue was doing. There weren't many dwarves who aspired to be rogues. Many a young dwarf was inspired by the tales of bravery and battle in the front lines, and dedicated their lives to becoming paladins or warriors. Others sought to tend to those on the front lines, and became priests. These were the ideals driven into every young dwarf's head, pounded into them like a hammer molds a sword into shape.

He had heard enough about the paladins and priest and "all that was holy" to last him a lifetime and he had decided at a young age, that the dwarves propaganda was not for him. In fact he had gone down the complete opposite path, one that took him down twisting roads of stealth, subtlety, and backstabbing. Living life as a rogue was not easy, as many looked down upon you, but it had it's advantages as well.

Branir was still young himself, and relatively new to combat, and so every day he took a trip down to the Fargodeep Mine, where kobolds had taken over and run rampant. Kobolds bred much like rabbits, and so it seemed to Branir there was always an endless supply of them to practice on. It didn't hurt that a few of the people of the town of Goldshire required some supplies from these kobolds and were paying quite handsomely.

He had just finished driving his dagger through the heart of an unsuspecting kobold and was preparing to stealth and choose another target when he heard a loud battle cry. He turned to see what had caused this commotion and located the source easily. A young human warrior, sword and shield in hand, had charged right into the thick of the battle, swinging wildly at a kobold. However, he got too close to the encampment and suddenly two more kobolds joined into the fray, beating furiously on the warrior.

It did not help Branir's cause in any way to aid this young warrior, in fact he should have let him learn from the folly of his own mistakes. However the dwarven rogue was feeling in a generous mood and he jumped quickly into the battle, his twin daggers snaking swiftly in and out. He had the element of surprise, and before they realized what had hit them, the first kobold dropped to the dirt, dead. One of the two remaining kobolds turned to face Branir, swinging it's fists wildly at him.

He accepted the first blow right on the chest and feinted, making it seem like he had been hit harder than he actually had. The kobold overextended with his second attack just as Branir had anticipated. He quickly sidestepped and finding a hole in the kobold weak defenses, he stabbed forwards with both daggers, embedding them in the side of the kobolds gut. He twisted his daggers to inflict as much damage as he could, before ripping them violently out.

The kobold was severely weakened and near death now. Knowing it was fighting a losing battle it attempted to run, but Branir was as swift as he was efficient in dealing with the kobold. With a downward motion he brought both daggers into the back of the kobold, driving them as deep as they would go. The vile creature screeched as it went into it's death throes. Eventually it lay still, having passed on to the realm of the dead.

Branir turned to see how the warrior was doing and was relieved to see that he had managed to finish off the last kobold on his own. Without so much as even a look, or a word of thanks, the warrior rushed off into the mine, eager for more battle. Branir could only shake his head and sigh. It was ironic really. The warriors and paladins of the Alliance were supposed to be the brave, and noble. However they clearly lacked intelligent and basic manners. With a shrug he turned back to the kobold carcass and rummaged through it's pockets, finding only a halfway burnt down candle, and a copper coin. The rewards of doing a good deed.

He did not let it bother him though, for there was only so many hours in a day, and he needed to use them wisely. He quickly used his skill to blend in with the shadows, making him effectively invisible, and advanced on his newly acquired target, another kobold. Those who wanted to be skilled in their walk of life did not rest too often, and Branir wanted to be a damned good dwarven rogue. Before that ever happened, he knew there would be a lot more blood on his daggers, and he was only happy to oblige.