It was a cold, bitter night when the doors of the Cowardly Pirates inn burst open.
The old tavern was one of the least respected in all of Waterdeep. It had a less than reputable reputation, and was quickly putting the bar out of business, the innkeeper had long abandoned any promise of the establishment and barely looked up when the stranger entered.
Pausing only briefly at the door, and dusting himself from the winter snow outside, Anomen Delryn stepped confidently into the seedy tavern. His face was hidden beneath the cowl of his hood, covering his eyes that now denied any youthful appearance, a sadness wrought of bitter experience.
"We're closin'" the barkeep called firmly, still not looking up from absentmindedly wiping the bar. Anomen appeared not to hear as he continued to stroll assertively through the small, run down place. Indeed, the tavern seemed to be shutting down, with barely any candles still lit.
A few of the regular patrons, friends of the innkeeper, looked up at the strange man, who promptly took a seat directly at the bar at the last seat, furthest from the innkeeper.
"You hear what I said?" The keeper asked, turning to Anomen. "We're closed. Get out of here." He growled.
Anomen merely stared at the near-derelict bar ahead of him and sighed. He scratched his once-trimmed beard idly, which had now become more of a shaggy, graying mess.
His mind wandered as it always did, back to his old adventures. Before his 'traveling' days.
"Get me a drink." Anomen said softly, his weathered face still covered by his long cloak. He remembered the time wore he proudly wore full armor wherever he went, smugly showing his allegiances to his god, Helm. He almost laughed aloud at the image of his previous self, what he would think of him now he wondered.
He had a life of adventure, he reminded himself. But after his long adventure with the Bhaalspawn, his adventuring days waned more and more. He constantly pushed himself in his quests, demanding more and more from himself, craving another adventure like the one he and Keldorn, Jaheria and the others shared.
Without waiting for an answer, Anomen lazily flicked a gold coin at the startled innkeeper. "A drink." He repeated.
The man hesitated for a moment, and then fetched a flagon, filling it to the top for the stranger and placing it in front of him. He clearly wanted no trouble and needed the gold.
"Fine." He said, reluctantly pocketing the coin. "You drink this, and then you're gone."
Anomen chuckled aloud at the comment. He loathed Waterdeep. He hated the corrupted citizens and casual lifestyle.
Taking a swig of the newly poured ale, he realized with solemn conviction that his whole life since his adventures across Amn had been one journey. A journey he'd spent alone, desperately seeking the adventure again. Clinging to it. Sure he had been on some crusades, helped a few villages. Even defeated a few bandits groups. But it wasn't the grand quest he was searching for again.
Looking at his shaggy appearance again, he reminded himself that he hadn't found it. Depressed, he took another guzzle of ale, allowing the frothy liquid to fall on his unkempt beard. He barely recognized himself these days. Oh how he missed the day he carried steel, would do battle with liches and dragons alongside his comrades and friends.
He paused and thought of his old companions, he wondered if they too, had spent their lives after the grand adventure perusing an empty vision. He wondered if any had settled down or maybe found an even greater quest. The only thing he'd heard of in the last few years was that the dragon Firkraag had been defeated, supposedly by Keldorn and a few others, but he wasn't certain. He didn't know about the others, he fell out of contact with everyone.
Losing himself in self pity, Anomen didn't notice the three men rise from their seats across the tavern. They surrounded Anomen, who didn't look up.
"I think I heard Marv here telling you to take off" warned the largest of the three, motioning to the Innkeeper who pretended not to notice.
"Aye, he did." Anomen replied, still sipping from his mug. Surprised at the small reaction to being surrounded, the three men exchanged confused glances.
"What's your story?" One of the men said firmly, placing his hand on the table in front of Anomen. "I ain't seen you here before."
"My story?" Anomen said unfazed, almost to himself as he considered the question. He spoke softly, "My story isn't so uncommon. I've traveled the lands of Faruen, conquered great wizards and defeated demons had terrifying as any you could imagine." He said the words with none of his usual smugness, just empty hollow words from a shell of a man.
Anomen stared at nothing, his mind thinking of past times. "But then, it was over. The quest of the gods was over. Leaving me to find my own way."
He turned and faced the larger man, and removed his hood to reveal his worn, weathered face.
"As you can see, I haven't done so." He said. "Not as much as my previous leader…" He added, remembering where he now resided with a chuckle.
One of the men chuckled, prompting the others into a full bellowing rousing laugh. "You think we want your life-story? You washed up, pathetic man." He laughed.
"Look at you. I doubt you've ever left the comfort of Waterdeep." Another said.
"Fighting Demons? Great quests? Hah! That's a good one!" The third man added, enjoying the laugh and nudging his friends with his elbow.
Finally, the larger man grabbed the ex-squire by the shoulder, and pulled him back. Without missing a beat, Anomen jabbed the ruffian in the throat impossibly fast and dropping the man to the floor gasping for air.
Faster than the other two could react, Anomen spun around, slugging the second man with a right hook, also sending him crashing to the floorboards.
The final ruffian was ready though, and drew a dagger, swiping it awkwardly at the cleric. Anomen leaped back instintively through years of experience. He quickly grabbed his wrist and twisted, forcing the knife away from his hand and causing him to yell in pain and lean back.
Taking the opportunity, Anomen called out for his god, Helm and punched the man dead on in the nose, knocking him out and sending him to join his friends.
Looking at the damage, Anomen frowned and flexed his fist. Pleased that he still had his old fighting abilities, unused for a long while, he turned to regard the Innkeeper, who scampered away into the backrooms.
Anomen turned to leave, but paused. He turned back to the three sprawling men. The two who had received the punches were out cold, but the larger man was still writhing, gasping for breath.
Anomen sat down again and waited for the man to recover, taking a last swig from his now drained flagon.
"You want a story?" Anomen asked the rogue, now near to recovering.
"I'll tell you a story. But I suppose I should start where I came into the tale. The middle." He grinned, relishing telling the legend again, even if it was to a wounded man.
"In the Copper Coronet I was. That's in Athkatla. Resting up from a previous quest."
The man slowly sat up, leaning against the bar, for both fear and perhaps a little interest. He listened intently either way.
Anomen continued with a grin, "When in walks the most remarkable group I've ever known, led by none other by Archon the Bhaalspawn." The patron's eyes widened, obviously recognizing the name and title and prompting Anomen to grin again.
"Let me tell you his story…"