Savage Tides: ECL 4 Davrin Fel Fighter (Targeteer) 2/ Ranger 2: Bio/Backstory

--A man groans loudly on the floor of the tavern as Davrin pulls an unbroken chair from another table and sits back down.--

"Well, that went well..."

--A squinty-eyed man with the air of a scholar about him sits across the table from Davrin.--
"Now, you were saying something about my family?"

--The man squeaks slightly--

"Ah, right, my father," the word is almost spat out. "I suppose I might've been more diplomatic than telling him to take 'the family's reputation' and go fuck a walrus...But, that wouldn't have been me, now would it have?" Davrin chuckles slightly at that. "It all goes back to the first day my father decided that money wasn't enough, he wanted to ensure the family's role in city as a political and mercantile power. I was nine at the time, and my studies--if you could call them that--rapidly switched from tales of knight-errants and abacī to every sort of abstract and arcane matter you could possibly think of--volumes upon volumes of political intrigue and Ladies sleeping with Lords not their own, and how it affected the price of salt in Tusmit."

--Davrin picks up the mug on the table only to find it empty, and motions for a barmaid to refill it--

"It was in those years, as I became barricaded behind book after book, that I watched my father go from the honest, healthy--if overly large--man he used to be, to a squalid shadow of his former self...I wisely deduced that the elevation in status was the main reason for this, but I could do nothing. Gone was the father whom gazed upon me with such happiness whilst I performed fake sword drills in the courtyard...Any feelings I had left for the old bastard were gone that day when he told me I was going to the Academy or he would disinherit me--told me it was for the sake of the family's reputation. Hah, if only he knew what my sister had been doing."

--Again he reaches for the mug, only to find it still empty. Throwing it on the ground, he yells at the barkeep: "OI! GET YER SODDING WENCH TO BRING ME A GLASS." A man stands up behind him and tells him to pipe down, to which he replies with the flat end of the wooden serving tray from the table.--

"Fuck, this place is worse than I remembered. Where was..So I was right fucking mad after he said that, but I was in possession of a little more of my brain then than I am now, and so I decided to play along...Once I moved into the Academy, hewould send me some money for my classes and other things, and I started a little "savings fund." At first it was just for some booze and other things, but one of my mates pointed out how easy it'd be to buy my way into the milit'ry, and get off easy. It was simple enough to pay one of the smartsy-ones to write up a little document saying how well I was doin' in my classes, and keep quiet about it, and finally after two years of it, I was done. I wrote a little 'love' letter to my father, and jumped on the next ship to Port Toli to join the Units of the Princes. It was there, they introduced me to Hanna," as he says this, Davrin reaches over to lovingly caress an unusually large longbow leaning against the wall of the tavern."Ah, me and my Hanna....We've been together a great long time...I have to admit, they gave me just about the only thing I haven't fucked up in this miserable life...I'll have to tell you the story of her name some other time."

--About this time, a serving girl finally shows up...only to walk right past with a tray of mugs balanced on her shoulder...obviously, his drink isn't coming anytime soon.--

"Damn that girl. I need a fucking drink right now. But anyway, it was them as what taught me how to use my Hanna to put an arrow through the eye-slit on a pavise at a hundred-fifty feet. How to scout ahead, and forage in the forest--to be completely at home in the woods as you are in your study.

--At this point, the serving girl comes by with another tray and Davrin reaches up to grab one right as the girl tries to dance out of reach. The tray comes crashing down and the usual tavern noise stops for a second...The bartender points at Davrin and yells "OUT! I've had enough of your trouble! You still haven't paid your tab you filthy bastard!" One of the bar's brutes starts heading towards Davrin.--

"Ah...look, I'm sorry but we might have to cut this short....Would you mind giving me the amount we agreed on, and I'll answer any other questions you have somewhere safer?"

--The scholar looks at Davrin....sighs and slowly draws out a purse, and sets it on the table.--

"Thanks, man." Davrin turns to the brute, just as he gets there, "here, take that back to your master. It should clear the air between us."

--The brute takes the purse, but also reaches for the Greatbow on the wall--

"Oh fucking hell no you don't, mate. Touch it and you die."

--The brute glares at Davrin, but once he sees he won't back down, he grabs him by the shoulder and hauls him up to the counter.--

The innkeeper takes the purse from the brute and tips it onto the counter--copper coins, and a few silver pieces tumble out. "This all you got? Fucking swine, you owe me more than double this pile of petty shit."

"WHAT? YOU SLIME-CROTCHED GOAT-FUCKING SON OF A WEREBEAR! I'LL GET YOU, YOU COCKLESS SMURF!" Davrin swears at the "scholar" who is beating a hasty retreat towards the door of the tavern. "Look man, just give me time. I told you I'd get the money, and you have some of it. You don't have to be so harsh."

The innkeeper looks at him, and laughs...."Bah, you're so damnably pathetic I don't even need to waste my time on you...Thump, throw 'im down the privy..."

Thus begins the tale of Davrin Fel.