Hello everyone! This will be the introduction one shot to my upcoming series on the adventures of the campaign I play with my friends. We've been running it for about a year and a half now and I've got enough content to fill a basement with words so that's going to be my little side-project.
To anyone unfamiliar with my writing, I use the Oxford standard spelling but sometimes I end up mixing the American spelling because of my brain being unable to handle red squiggly lines.
Locke Ruin: A Way Too Serious Backstory For A Way Too Sarcastic Rogue
Time, a funny concept. People spend their entire lives basing it around the idea of 'time'. You spend the first half of your life thinking you have all the time in the world, then suddenly, like a cold steel mace to the face you realize that the eternity you thought you had just isn't enough.
There's never enough time.
The sound of a wooden mug slamming on the hardwood of a table as a dark-haired young man, barely above twenty sat now nursing an empty pint, "I can't believe I have to fucking tell this story... I never thought it would be here of all places..." he said with a grimace as the faint flames of the fireplace flickered over his light-tan skin, the pale flames dancing in his silver eyes.
"Locke now's a good a time as any... it's not like we're going anywhere..." the paladin said, propping himself up on the chair, his heavy plated armour clanking as he did.
The young man, named Locke, gazed around the table, five other individuals sat around him, there were six but one got up and left in an angry fit... a story for another time perhaps. These individuals were a handful of his 'comrades', a Warforged Warlock named Jebeddo Raulen, a human paladin named Kaiser, Dikra Dakhard the Kalashtar Druid, the comically named rogue Drow, Baron Bucklefart (Never make fun of his surname), and the human necromancer TRK, his real name unknown to even him so everyone calls him Rook for short.
Locke sighed heavily as reclined on his chair, gesturing eccentrically to them he said, "I've never really had a family... you lot are the closest things, though... I hate half of you almost as much as I hate courtrooms, and I like half of you more than you deserve so I guess it evens out... kind of... except Dikra, I bloody despise you..."
"The feeling is mutual dickwad," the druid grumbled and folded his arms.
"Oh shut up you know you love me otherwise one of us would be dead by now..." Ruin snorted earning another grumpy noise from the angry man. He then clapped his hands loudly, "Alright enough stalling. You want to hear about me right? The rogue you love to hate for some bloody reason..."
Jebeddo quietly raised his hand, "I like you Locke if that counts for anything..."
"I uh... like you to Locke? As a friend of course... ahem..." Kaiser voices, coughing into his fists.
"Aw that's sweet... at least some people care... the rest of you are just here for the juicy details" he waggled an index finger accusingly at Dikra and Baron.
Baron held up a hand, "Speaking of... where are Brutus and Gnaryar? I haven't seen them since we got to this place..."
"Probably off in some corner with their tongues down each other's throat," Dikra said dryly.
Locke snorted in distaste, "Please, we both know Brutus is too limp-dicked to make a move and Gnaryar would never give him the time of day."
"Those two really need to get their feelings sorted out..." Kaiser said with exasperation, clearly having had enough of the drama.
Jebeddo rolled his eyes, "Well at least he has someone... I don't even have a heart..." this left an awkward air to hang over the table.
Locke's eyes flitted back and forth among everyone before saying cautiously"...Anywaaayyy, it all started sixteen years ago..." Locke began dramatically waving his arms, and the party around the table swore they saw the air distorting in a dream-like manner until...
Rook frowned, "Wait sixteen years our timeline or..." his interruption successfully derailing the mood, again.
"Yes, our timeline now can I get on with the story?"
"..."
"Thank you... now as I was saying..." he started moving his fingers erratically again, "My name isn't actually Locke Ruin... or rather it's not my birth name..."
Baron spat a mouthful of ale into Dikra's face, covering the Druid, "WHAT?!"
"OH FOR THE LOVE OF!" Locke was getting very tired of being interrupted.
Kaiser raised an eyebrow, "I mean I had my suspicions but... Dikra put that Drow down you don't know where he's been!" all eyes turned to see the druid wild-shaped as a wolf with Baron in his mouth. "Bad doggy! Down!"
When the Drow Swashbuckler was reluctantly dropped Locke continued, "... Right... my real name is Artemis Nightshade."
"And I thought Rook was the edgelord?" Jebeddo pointed out dryly.
"WILL YOU LET ME TELL THE STORY?!"
"..."
"Thank you... now... before anyone ELSE wants to interrupt..."
-16 years ago-
The calm, star-filled night sky echoed tranquility across the North Sword Coast. In a clearing within a small forest in the outskirts of the city of Neverwinter stood a large mansion, ornate in style with four floors and a rich-looking exterior. The front of the house had several windows on each story, at the center was a grand ten-foot-tall dark oak double door each with a brass knocker.
Warm light emanated from the windows as the sound of laughter and cheer could be heard. A young boy sat on the living room carpet, wearing rich-looking clothes and a face shining bright with glee. He looked about five years old, his skin a light tan, eyes bright silver, and his hair black with red streaks.
"Okay final present. Open it up Artemis," A tall tank man with dark brown hair and silver eyes said as he presented the little boy with a small wooden box, barely larger than an adult's hand.
The box opened by hinges at the back, the inside was laden with black velvet, and nestled in the center was a gold pocket watch with ornate rose vines encircling its perimeter and a pattered rose in the middle. Its face was open such that the pattern was not solid but rather crafted like a grate so the inside was visible while it was closed. On the back of the watch, the words 'To Artemis Nightshade from Vincent' were inscribed.
"My dad gave me one like this when I was your age, I figured I'd pass down the tradition," the man now known as Vincent Nightshade said while stroking his beard.
"This must've cost a fortune dear!" a woman who stood next to him said. She had bright platinum-blonde hair and emerald green eyes.
"Money is not a problem for us," he chuckled heartily as he observed his wife's attire with interest, "Carmine, it's nice to see you using your natural hair colour for once," he addressed the woman.
"What? Can't a mother at least try to be natural in front of her only son on his fifth birthday?" Carmine asked rhetorically. "Besides it's not like anyone's here. It's just us for once. No grand balls or fancy parties."
"It's fun when it's just us, right mommy?" Artemis chirped turning to Carmine. It was strange, Changeling children always matured faster than humans, so a five-year-old Artemis had the intelligence of a ten-year-old human.
She smiled and ruffled his hair, "Of course sweetheart."
Carmine and Vincent were an odd pair. A human and a Changeling couple was uncommon since most humans tended to abhor Changelings. They saw their race as deceptive and untrustworthy, and since Changelings could modify their outward appearance, it unnerved and dissuaded many potential partners.
Vincent Nightshade himself was an oddball, a burly, scarred man with a body like a well-trained fighter, yet he was in the merchant business.
Carmine Nightshade was his accountant and wife, yet she boasted of skills unnatural to her field, as she could not only pick locks, track people and animals, but she could also lie her way out of a crime scene even if she was caught with blood on her hands and the murder weapon.
Artemis, despite being only five, had mental maturity far greater than any one of his age, possessing incredibly high memory retention, inquisitiveness, and understanding. His mother's explanation for his rapid growth and talent was that Changelings mentally matured at a faster pace compared to most races.
"Have you learned to shape change yet?" Carmine asked her son curiously.
Artemis frowned and scrunched his face in concentration, his dark hair shifting to colours of blue and pink before returning to normal, his breath coming out in ragged gasps, "Sorry... still... not good at it..."
The mother simply smiled warmly and picked up her son, then morphed her face into that of a bearded man before giggling and shifting it back, she seemed to do it as easily as she breathed, "It'll get better with time dear."
Changelings were pale-white in complexion with various lack of distinctive features, but their power to change appearance at will, most settled on a form that suited their tastes. Artemis, being a half-breed, adopted his father's features while retaining his mother's powers, though not to a full extent. For the young boy, it was much more comfortable for him to retain his appearance at birth rather than a form of his choosing.
Artemis let out a cute yawn and rubbed his eyes.
"Looks like someone's getting tired, off to bed with you," she said carrying him out of the room.
Artemis grumbled, "Nuh-uh, not tired..." he said as he fell asleep in her arms, clearly exhausted from trying to use his abilities.
-Later that night-
Artemis was awakened to the sound of muffled cries and shouting from downstairs. Blearily he peeled open his eyes and crawled out of bed, stumbling down the wooden staircase to the kitchen, where the noise originated.
The shouting was growing louder as he approached and his mind was fully awake now. He crept toward the open kitchen door and peered in.
His parents stood in the middle of the kitchen huddled together with fear-stricken faces as a group of burly men wearing dark blue robes, wielding various weapons, surrounded them. They all had hoods up except for one bald man with a tattoo of a mark Artemis had never seen before over his forehead.
"Where do you keep it? Where is it hidden?!" The man yelled at them, anger dripping from his words.
"It's not here! We would never keep something so precious in our own home!" Vincent snarled back trying to put up a façade of bravado and failing.
"Then you will tell me where it is! Or I will kill you where you stand!"
"Kill me if you want, but I will never tell you. Something like that… it should never see the light of day again! Besides, even if you did kill me you would never get it. It's locked away by a seal that requires both of us, alive." He argued back, gaining confidence.
The bald man's expression darkened further, "You're bluffing."
Carmine smirked, "Are you willing to call out that bluff?"
The man's blade was on her in a second, inches from her throat in a flash, "Are you willing to bet your life on it?"
Carmine stared him in the eye and leaned forward, pressing the tip of the sword to her throat, enough to draw blood, "More than willing."
The man recoiled with a hiss. Whatever it was that he wanted, it was too important to risk.
Artemis was listening in from the shadows of the doorway, questions running through his mind. He was too young to fully understand the situation but he knew that these people were bad and threatening his family… but what could he do?
Before he could even think, his body was picked up from the ground by an unknown force, cold clammy hands grasping hold of his torso as he was lifted off the floor and carried into the room. Startled he looked back and saw a blue-robed man carrying him in.
"Oi boss, I found this one lurkin' around, looks to me like dems' kid," the robed man carrying Artemis said.
The boy was too terrified to speak, he looked to his parents with a fearful expression.
Vincent and Carmine both flinched slightly, and the bald man caught it, a dark grin playing on his lips.
"You two buffoons went and actually shagged? How the fuck did a human manage to knock up a Changeling? Doesn't matter, it works out for me," the man walked over and put his blade to Artemis's throat.
"ROMULUS DON'T YOU DARE TOUCH HIM!" the calm and collected Carmine instantly screamed out, lurching forward only to be held back by the robed men.
The bald man apparently named Romulus laughed maniacally, "Ah the snake's motherly instincts are comin' out. Didn't think you had it in you given your… reputation. You know what comes now, don't you?" his nostrils flared as the smug expression seemed to perpetuate itself on his face, "My demands."
"Let him go he's not part of any of this!" Vincent growled fiercely.
"Oh, but he is! He's your little hellspawn after all!" Romulus swung the blade at Artemis.
"NO! STOP!" both parents screamed out in panic, making the man halt his swing, "We'll give you the artifact, please let our son go…" Carmine cried.
He chuckled, content with the result of his threats, "That's more like it. So, where is it?"
Carmine and Vincent looked to each other and nodded, "It will take us a few days to get it… please, we'll give it to you just let our son go!" Vincent pleaded.
His face contorted in exasperation but he knew they wouldn't dare risk their son, "Hmph, you have three days. As for your son, he'll be our insurance. If you want him back alive, you'll bring what we asked." He took Artemis and slung him over his right shoulder.
"MOM! DAD!" Artemis cried out, reaching out in vain.
"Shut up kid!" Romulus shook him roughly as he carried him.
Artemis was bound with rope and thrown into the back of an enclosed caravan, as the robed men left into the night. Several hours went by as he continuously thrashed and struggled, eventually Artemis gave up on his restraints and exhaustion took hold of him, sending him to sleep.
He was awoken sometime later when the carriage was stopped. He assumed they were at their destination, as he couldn't see outside. He wasn't sure where they were.
"Let us through," the voice of Romulus was heard from the outside.
"Can't do that 'til you hand over the goods," An unfamiliar voice said, it sounded male, human but almost goblin-like.
"How dare you? do you know who you're dealing with?!" The bald man was heard roaring.
The unfamiliar voice chuckled, "We know exactly who you are, and we don't care, what you got is worth so much more than gold…"
"I don't know how you found out about it or what our mission was tonight, but I don't care. You followers of the worm will die for your disrespect to our clan" The bald man roared in anguish.
"Don't you know baldy? Neverwinter is our turf!"
The sounds of fighting followed. Blades clashed and screams were heard as Artemis shook with fear in the back of the carriage. A great flash of an unnatural green erupted before an explosion shook the earth, rocking the carriage and toppling it over on its side, the little Artemis with it.
After a few minutes, the smell of smoke and the feeling of heat began to permeate the caravan, as the light of flames began to travel inside. A fire was spreading.
Artemis struggled to free himself, screaming muffled cries through the cloth over his mouth, but no one came. The sound of fighting was growing ever louder.
The flames grew in size and wormed their way through the wooden carriage, the searing heat radiating on his exposed facial skin with increasing intensity.
He rolled over onto his stomach hoping to the heavens that he would somehow survive, and as if by sheer luck, his break had come through. The fire burned away at his ropes before touching his skin, searing his calves slightly but the pain was nothing compared to the feeling of freedom as his toddler strength barely broke him free of his restraints.
Not wasting a moment, he stumbled out of the burning carriage and came face to face with what looked like a warzone.
Around him were dead bodies, some were blue-robed, others were robed in yellow. The stench of blood and iron permeated his nostrils almost making him vomit, but he would hesitate no longer. He used the confusion to his advantage remembering his mother's words. 'A fight you're not involved in is just a distraction to everyone, use it to your advantage.'
Why a five-year-old would need to know that he would never guess, but he scrambled into the thick woods, running as far as his little legs would carry him until he was far enough to no longer hear the fighting.
He collapsed onto the soft green grass at the base of a tree, eventually drifting into a restless slumber.
Artemis awoke the next morning with a gnawing hunger in his stomach and the biting chill of the cold air nipping at his skin, yet despite all his physical conundrums, none were greater than the painful reality of his situation. He was very lost.
The trees were too tall for him and everything was like a giant maze. He didn't know how to get home or where home even was. As such he was stuck to wandering the woods, praying to the gods that he would find some solace or relief.
As the day dragged on, Artemis began to grow weaker as his body craved food. He'd managed to find a river with clean water but he couldn't fish, he had no survival skills. He was sure he would die out there.
He continued to pray to the gods, begging anyone listening to aid him, but his prayers went unanswered. Cursing to himself, he picked up his tiny legs and steeled his determination, death would not take him, not before he'd found his home.
The teachings of his mother would resurface in his mind, she would often tell him bedtime stories about how she survived getting lost in the woods or tracked a bear through the forest. If there was anything his mother had imparted on him in his short time alive, it was some of her experience.
He began foraging for food based on what he remembered, looking for anything edible, be it leaves or strange fruit. Artemis wasn't good at transforming his body and making full use of his changeling powers but he could at least change his skin colour to blend in with his environment, making it harder for creatures to detect him.
'Where am I? How do I find mommy and daddy?' Were the thoughts that constantly plagued his young mind as he struggled through the vast expanse of forest.
After several days of wandering the woods, he finally found some form of hope, a badly cut dirt road made by hunters, but it was some semblance of civilization. Following the path, he eventually found his way back to the city of Neverwinter.
Based on his memories of travelling with his family, he managed to make his way back to his home. As he broke through the treeline and into the clearing, visions of expectation flashed in his mind. He imagined his parents standing at the gate with tears in their eyes, happy to see him finally return home.
Life, however, has a terrible way of shattering expectations.
The young Artemis felt the glow of hope within him die, smothered like the embers of a dying campfire. The grand Nightshade Manor, the jewel amongst the green was naught but ash and soot, only the stone beams and frame were left as skeletal remains of the once beautiful home. Razed to the ground and buried in destruction.
Tears welled in his eyes as his small, frail body slumped to its knees in despair. A cold, hollow emptiness draining his life as any semblance of hope he once had was swept away like dust in the wind.
Rain began to pour from the skies in bullets that struck Artemis's skin, but he felt nothing, for he'd gone numb.
He moved on autopilot, walking into the ruins of his home, looking for something, anything to indicate that his parents were alive, but all he found were scraps of burnt cloth. He'd almost given up hope when out of the corner of his eyes he spotted the glimmering within the damp, ash-covered soil.
It was the pocket watch he'd been given for his birthday, the only thing that survived the fire, gazing upon it reminded him that he was alive, that he was a Nightshade and he must continue to survive, in hopes of one day finding the people responsible for ruining his life.
-Fast forward 5 years-
Artemis had grown to the age of ten years old now, mentally he was 15. He'd survived by stealing, begging, and deceiving the people of Neverwinter of their gold, food, and sometimes even secrets, which he eventually used against them. It was a slow trade, in the beginning, being beaten often, almost thrown in jail by guards, but each time he committed a crime, he was sure to alter his appearance.
Some of the men in Neverwinter's prison were guards who'd bullied Artemis as a beggar, thus he committed crimes with their faces, making sure to be seen. The people of Neverwinter had never interacted with Changelings before, therefore they were easy pickings for him, after all, he was a rare race.
In the five years, he'd been stealing, his thirst for revenge had dissipated, as he'd been faced with the struggle of survival. He cared about whether his parents were alive, or what the events of that night really meant, but as he stood he had no means of pursuing it, and as such slipped into the routine of a thief, his previous goals becoming backseat to his main objective: "Survive".
All this changed one fateful day when a peculiar old man rode into town. His face was sunken and wrinkly, his skin dark and aged. The hair on his head seemed to connect to the long flowing beard around his face, dull grey. He wore a black cloak that reminded Artemis of the midnight sky, and he carried a large walking stick with him that resembled a staff. His posture was bent over as he dismounted his horse, his wooden sandals clacking against the cobblestone road.
The old man had stopped off in front of a bakery, frequented by Artemis for their delicious bread. It was one of the few places in the city that Artemis had never robbed, and instead, chosen to spend 'his' money there. It stemmed from the owner being the only person in Neverwinter to take pity on a starving child, while the other rich citizens turned their noses in disgust.
Artemis lurked at the side of the building, watching the old man from the corner of his eyes. The man seemed unaware of his surroundings, his weary amber eyes straying from items in the store window.
Artemis wouldn't have robbed an old man on a normal day, but today he was desperate. His last 'job' had gone south, with the contents of a particular nobleman's safe already being emptied before he got there. The culprit of that crime was caught, much to Artemis's disgruntlement.
"If it'd been me, that man wouldn't have even known his safe was empty until a month from now…" he cursed under his breath remembering the unfortunate event. He irritatedly debated the effort of stealing from the old man, if it was even worth his time.
At that moment a gentle breeze passed and wafted the scent of fresh bread to Artemis's nose, reminding him of why he needed money in the first place.
Sighing to himself he looked around to make sure no one was watching before morphing into a nobleman and donning a disguise that he'd kept in his satchel. After quickly disposing of any evidence, he mentally prepared himself, strutting onto the street with his nose held high and his eyes facing downward, a clear indication that he regarded the peasants as below him.
With indirect intention, Artemis walked forward, directly into the old man, bumping into him, using the interaction to pickpocket the man's coin purse.
"Watch where you're going old man, do you peasants not know how to step aside for nobility such as I?" Artemis said with a condescending tone.
The old man picked himself up off the ground and laughed heartily, "And what nobleman would steal an old fool's coin purse?"
This caught Artemis by surprise, "I don't know what you're talking about, your age is clearly affecting your mind, I will be taking my leave!"
As Artemis made a move to step away, the old man had suddenly appeared in front of him, "Come now son, do you really think I wouldn't notice a bit of sleight of hand? I may be old but I'm not senile."
Artemis's expression darkened, "Step aside old man, I don't want to hurt you."
The old man just laughed again, "Well I gave you a chance…"
Artemis made a motion to run but the old man's staff tripped him instantly, knocking him over and the coin purse stumbling out, the distinct jingling was heard as it fell onto the stone.
"How did you…?" Artemis asked as he dragged himself to his feet.
"I know more than just a thing or two of how to take care of myself. The question is… why would someone like you need to be so desperate as to steal from an old man?"
"What's it matter to you?"
"Well depending on your answer, I might just let it go…"
"Fuck off-! OUCH!" Artemis cried out as the man whacked him on the head with the stick.
"Don't be rude I'm giving you a chance! Your sleight of hand was good but not without flaw…" As the man spoke Artemis's shapechanging ability broke due to him taking the blow and the man's speech halted. "Well, I'll be damned…"
"What…?" Artemis noticed his disguise had faded, "Shit you've seen my real face…" Artemis tried to run but the man jumped onto his back, pinning him to the floor. "OOF!"
"Well now I think the universe has presented me with a rare opportunity," the man said with a hint of zeal, "A Changeling boy with a talent for thievery… how interesting…"
As Artemis continued to struggle the old man leaned down, "Kid, do you want to become my apprentice?"
The Changeling spat on the floor, "And why should I? Why would you even want me as an apprentice?"
"Allow me to introduce myself. They call me the Master of Shadows- Rounin Black Star, and I can teach you how to be strong."
Artemis laughed coldly, "Never heard of yah,"
The man smiled, "Exactly… and you, my shapeshifting friend, are a rare opportunity. I've always wanted an apprentice, someone to pass along my teachings, but my field is… difficult, and those who do not possess a natural aptitude for it will never amount to anything. I could take in a normal person but they would never surpass me, and if the next generation does not surpass the previous then what is the point of progress?"
Artemis cursed under his breath as he weighed his options. He could reject the man, go back to being a thief… but is that what he really wanted? To return to a life of stagnation? No… he didn't.
"I accept."
"Boy, what is your name?" Rounin asked as he and Artemis sat in a dojo made of bamboo mats and thin wooden housing.
"Artemis Nightshade," he responded, sitting on his knees before his new master.
"Cast aside that name. A shadow needs no name. From now on, you will answer only to disciple, student, you, or whatever I decide to call you." The master instructed.
Artemis was flabbergasted, "What?!"
"If you wish to become an effective shadow, you must forsake identity."
"But what about you? You have a name!" Artemis contested.
The man laughed, "Do you think that was my real name? That is just what my previous master called me on the last days of my training, it was a name given to use as an alias, an identifier to only those whom the name mattered."
Artemis pondered for a moment, "When will I receive a name?"
"In time…"
-Ten Years Later-
Artemis was now twenty, his training had been going smoothly, and as his master had put it, he was a 'Once in a lifetime disciple'. At first, Artemis had been willing to forsake his old life, his memories, and so he did, but one thing he held onto was the pocket watch.
It reminded him of why he chose this path, of why he needed to be strong, and that was to find answers.
Artemis awoke one morning to find the dojo empty, and a note left by his master.
It read:
Dear Disciple,
Our years together have been fruitful, and as your master, I am proud to see how far you've come and how much you've grown. I once swore to myself, to never have any personal ties, that I would carry on the legacy of the Nameless Shadow, but as I trained you, I have found myself seeing you as the son I never had. For this, your master asks you to overlook his fault, after all, he is only human.
I leave you this letter because I am going away. Something has resurrected from my past and requires my attention. I have taught you all that I can with what I had, and now to complete your training, you must undergo one final task.
Track me down, follow me on my road, if you can find me, you will have mastered all my teachings and become on par with me.
I leave you with one final parting gift. As promised when we began fourteen years ago, a name. From now on, you may use the name:
Locke Ruin.
Locke – A sealing device which holds in secrets and prevents the outside from entering, and a play on words to our meeting, it was luck that brought you to me, perhaps a bit of fate as well…
Ruin – An ode to that from which you came, from the Ruins of your past to a new future. Never forget where you came from but never reveal who you are.
Best wishes, Your Master
Rounin Black Star
P.S: Here's a starting hint since I like you and I know you're sometimes blind to what's under your nose. Start at Waterdeep.
Artemis, now known as Locke, picked up the note and sighed, "God fucking damnit old man…"
Locke spent a year in Waterdeep searching for clues of his master, returning to his old trade of being a thief to gain money, he also worked as a spy, using the skills taught to him to work for various persons within Waterdeep.
His skills as a spy were utilized to their fullest, as he toppled merchant guilds and faction houses.
He'd worked for the Lord's Alliance once, he once answered to Piergeiron of Paladinson on a job to root out narcotic traders in the Waterdeep Black Markets, his work was noticed by Laurel Silverhand who contracted him for a few jobs. It was through her did he learn that the Lord's Alliance was not all that they seemed.
Within the good-natured exterior of the Lords' Alliance lay roots that gnarled their way in chaos and corruption, and they were not what meets the eye.
After a few jobs, Locke had decided to resign himself to a break. Constantly fighting and scheming had been playing on his mental health and he was quickly becoming exhausted. Waterdeep was a large city filled with strife, he knew it in his mind. His master had wanted him to come here, he knew that he would be swept into this world and it was his job to find his way in this black mess.
Locke sat near the water at the Smuggler's Docks of the city, eating cheap bread as he watched the cargo ships roll in or depart, cursing the crappy bakers of Waterdeep when he heard the sound of rambunctious yelling in the distance.
He craned his neck to see what appeared to be a girl around his age, wearing a burgundy hood and what seemed to be ranger attire, running from a crowd of armed soldiers. Locke studied the band and found that their armours were painted black, and the symbol of the Zhentarim order on their chest plates.
"Fuckin' Zhents bein assholes again ain't they?" Locke said to himself as he watched the drama ensue. They'd managed to surround the girl on the docks a few meters away from him, civilians had made way to allow them space, as Locke stood munching on his bread, observing the situation with dry amusement.
He didn't care what happened to the girl, though he did have slight respect for her, since pissing off the Zhents already landed her in his 'people he liked list'. Still, he didn't care enough to go out of his way to help her, he wasn't a hero after all, and it was attention he didn't need nor want.
"Give us back the item you stole!" One of them demanded from her.
The girl clutched what appeared to be a brown-wrapped parcel to her chest. "You'd have to pry it from mah cold dead hands you fucking bastards,"
"What did you just say?"
"I said you should probably stop gobbling up orc cock for a living 'cause it isn't doing your teeth any justice, dick breath!" she taunted, and Locke could swear even from this distance that she had a smug grin.
The line she used made Locke crack up laughing, causing him to choke on the bread in a coughing fit. This caught the girl's attention as she spied him from across the dock, a smirk growing bigger on her lips.
"I'm gonna gut you like a pig…" one of the men threatened as he drew closer.
"Wait no, we should have some fun with her first aye lads?" another one said, "It'd be a waste to let such a pretty thing go...". This made them all roar with cheer, and the girl shuddered in fear, as she realized what they were implying.
Locke felt a string of anger within him snap, Zhents were scum to him, but he didn't realize they stooped this low. He wasn't a hero, but that look of fear he knew all too well, probably because he'd been in that position as well after a spy mission had gone sideways resulting in him being caught between an alley wall and three men, thankfully all he had to do was stab one in the testicles and turn onto the others to get away before anything could ensue.
He was debating on how to approach the situation discreetly when suddenly the girl screamed aloud, "Peace out fuckers!" causing Locke to turn around just in time to see her somersault over their heads and land directly in front of him.
They came face to face, silver eyes meeting crimson red, and for a brief moment, Locke was stunned.
"What the…?" he started but she just smiled sweetly and shoved the brown parcel into his hands. "HUH?!"
She stuck out her tongue and winked, "Sorry can you be a distraction for a bit?" before sprinting off, leaving Locke face to face with a hoard of Zhents.
They noticed the parcel in his hands and glared at him, "OI HE'S GOT IT! HE'S WITH HER! GET 'EM!"
Locke just paled, "Oh fuck me sideways…" and he broke off into a run.
Thankfully he was much faster than clumsy soldiers in heavy armour as he easily maneuvered through the crowd of people in Waterdeep, effectively losing his pursuers in the masses.
Once he was safely in the clear, he took to a quiet alley where he examined the package in his hands. Why he didn't just dump it and leave? He had no idea, perhaps it was his curiosity, or perhaps it was his underlying desire to help the attractive girl from earlier.
He was about to open it when he heard, "Oi don't be opening my ill-gotten goods. I stole it fair and square," the woman's voice said.
She landed from the rooftop of the nearby building and stepped forward, taking off her hood. Locke could see that her dark-red hair was cut short, just above her neck close to her ears, her features were slender and she was most definitely attractive.
"Dark-red hair and eyes, you must be the famous Crimson Fury," Locke said as he recalled tales of a bounty hunter who'd taken the North Sword Coast by storm in recent weeks.
"You know me but I don't have the luxury of knowing you?" she waltzed up to him, almost seductively as she gracefully made a move for the parcel. Locke was quick with his reflexes and held out just out of her reach.
"I'm just a nameless shadow, and you're not getting this until you tell me what's in it, and why you just threw it on some random person you'd never met." Locke countered. "What if I'd just given it back to them? Or thrown it away?"
She grinned smugly, "But you didn't. Besides I saw the way you were looking at them, you have a particular distaste for those guys so you wouldn't just hand it over. On top of that, you also look quite skilled so I knew they wouldn't catch you, after all, no ordinary civilian walks around with a set of lock picks and a one-handed crossbow on his belt."
Locke smirked as he glanced at the offending object that he swore was concealed by his cloak, this girl was good. "Alright, you can call me Locke, and I want to know what's in this thing." He shook the parcel, it didn't rattle.
She sighed, "That parcel isn't worth anything, at least not to you. It's a series of lists or rather documentation of 'bills'."
"Bills?"
"You know how the Zhents are right? Why they're allowed to roam Waterdeep I'll never know, but those are the rights to ownership of a shipment of slaves and narcotics that are supposed to arrive here tomorrow…"
Locke studied her, "Something tells me you don't give a shit about the drugs… so the slaves?" he saw her flinch.
"Slaves… why would the Blood Fury care about slaves… someone close to you is on that list…" he watched her reactions, "A friend?" no reaction, "Parent?" Still none. "Brother? Sister?" that caused a flinch again.
"Ah, so a sibling hm?"
The girl sighed, "Yes… fine okay they have my little brother… so I'll have you give it back to me now!" she lunged at him but Locke was too slippery, dodging out of the way and dancing around her.
She was fast, but in this small alley, Locke had the advantage with his training.
After a few minutes of failed attempts, the girl was gasping for air, "Just… give… it… to me… please… it means nothing to you…"
Locke grumbled, he could take the list and leave easily, but she would probably chase him until the ends of the earth for it. He doubted he could kill her easily, and it would cause even more bumps on his road toward finding his master, and eventually the answers he needed.
On the other hand, he could help her out, gain an ally, to top it off he'd be messing with the Zhents, and like it or not he was on their radar now that he'd been seen with her.
He always hated them, saw them as nothing but scoundrels, too horrible to be called criminals they were more like pests. Now he had a real excuse to stick it to them.
"Fine, the list is yours, on one condition," he said turning to her.
This perked her up, "What do you want…?"
"You let me help."
"Huh?!"
"You heard me."
"But what could you possibly gain from helping me?!" She was bewildered.
Locke smirked, "Well for one, I'm hoping to acquire those narcotics."
She tilted her head in confusion, "To sell them?"
Locke shook his head, "No, as profitable as that would be, I don't believe in letting addictive detrimental drugs permeate society, this place is bad enough already. No, I'll hand them to the Lord's Alliance for a price along with any information they need to bring down those Zhents or blackmail them for money."
She hummed with interest, "You said 'for one', what else are you hoping to gain?"
"A friend."
The simple words threw her off, "BAHAHAHHAHA!"
The girl burst into a fit of laughter until she realized he was earnestly smiling, "Wait are you for real?" she turned slightly pink.
"Yeah, I don't have any… and at least to me… I think we'd get along pretty well."
She sighed exasperatedly, "You certainly are an interesting one mister Locke. Fine, it's a deal." She extended a hand to which he took it and shook it firmly.
"And the name's not 'Blood Fury'. It's Crimsun Ragebreaker."
"Locke Ruin," he responded with a smile.
From then on, the two rescued Crimsun's little brother and stole the Narcotic shipment from under the Zhent's noses. The unlikely alliance turned into a real friendship over time until Locke hit a brick wall searching for his master and the answers he needed.
He needed to become stronger, just as his master instilled in him, "Those who can face the truth and seek answers are those who have the power to take what they want." he would often be told. Staying in this city would only suffocate his growth and stunt his progress.
Locke stood at the gates of Waterdeep, looking back upon the city where'd he'd grown and learned so much. Taking a deep breath he steeled his resolve and made way for the world, he would not linger.
A flash of red crossed his mind as the image of Crimsun, distraught at his sudden absence tugged at his heartstrings. This friendship had grown into a deep feeling of something more, it bubbled in his stomach threatening to drag him back to her so he could pursue the building desire.
"I have a crush on my goddamned best friend... of course..." he cursed as he tried to push himself forward. He couldn't look back, he had to tell himself, he had to believe that she would be fine without him. She was a strong girl, dangerous and deadly as they came, him being gone would just be another bump in the road for her.
Once again his gaze pulled back toward the gates, "I can't say goodbye..." he whispered to himself, "Otherwise... if I see your face... I may not have the strength to leave..."
Every step he took away from the city, away from his friend, felt like ripping away at his own skin. He hated the gut-wrenching pain of losing a loved one, be it his parents' death, his master's disappearance, and now leaving his one true friend.
"This journey better be worth it..."
-Present-day-
"There are you happy?! Now you know my life story!" Locke fumed as he dragged his hands across his face, "You fuckers better not go around telling anyone or I'll hunt you down to the ends of the earth..."
Dikra who'd returned to human form raised his staff, "You can try..."
The paladin had enough of their antics for one night and separated them, "Alright enough you two..." he turned to Locke with a genuine smile, "You have a much more honest story than I thought you would... I'm glad you shared this with us."
Locke was unconcerned by the paladin's words of comradery, his eyes were focused on one person at the table, looking for a reaction in them.
With an angry huff, the person said, "I didn't come to hear that bullshit, Locke!"
Locke only felt pain in his shin afterward.
And that's a wrap for this backstory. A little short I know but it is merely the prelude to the extremely long-winded tale to come. Stay tuned whenever I finally finish the first arc in the main storyline.