Arlin

Editor's Note:  This is the companion tale to my last story.  Both concern events from our recent D&D campaign.  Here is the story of my new character, Arlin the Sorcerer.

‘Go see what Palarandusk wants.’ Said the Duty Sargent, who also happened to be Arlin’s Uncle.  ‘The crazy old Dragon, over in Ieirithymbul, needs someone to help him with some sort of quest.  He probably wants you to help him get rid of some Dwarfs.  He has a ‘thing’ against Dwarfs.  It shouldn’t take long and it will be a good chance to distance yourself from that business in Neverwinter.’

Therefore the young Sorcerer, member of the Draconic Brotherhood, set out for Ieirithymbul and now finds himself on a totally unexpected path.  Arlin took quill to parchment.  He would recount his early life to the old Gold Dragon.  He found Palarandusk delightful, not at all addled as his Uncle indicated.

Dear Palarandusk,

It was an honor to make your acquaintance.  You are truly a legend to all Dragon-kind.  Thank you for your generosity and involving me in the story of your lost friend.  I will do my best to honor his name and continue his quest.  You asked for the story of my life.  I’ll try to tell this story well, even though it is a short one.  You deserve a much grander hero’s journey but I will try to do justice to this humble Sorcerer’s tale.

I was born to an honorable clan of Brass Dragonborn, the Durisil Clan.  I was also very proud to have been inducted into the Draconic Brotherhood right after my ascension to maturity.  My clan has traditionally been assigned to protect the most honorable clients of the Brotherhood, and I was ready to follow in their footsteps.

Over the next year, I honed my skills as a bodyguard.  Intimidation and persuasion became opposite ends of the same coin.  The Brotherhood also allowed for my training in the magical arts.  In this respect, I had affinity as a Sorcerer. 

After a year of training, I was given my first assignment.  It was supposedly an easy one.  I had to go to Neverwinter and help an elder member of the Brotherhood protect an eccentric Dragonborn in the Blacklake district of Neverwinter.  He was a wealthy gem merchant by the name of Faalbahraan.

I was excited.  I had been assigned as lieutenant to the legendary Brotherhood Knight, Hacari.  It was an honor.  I was surrounded in opulence.  Hacari was strict, but an excellent teacher.  I couldn’t have asked for a better assignment.  I was bringing honor back to my Clan. 

The first couple of months were very straight forward.  Training and sentry duties were the order of duty.  Hacari took me under his wing and I eventually was assigned to the detail to guard Faalbahraan directly.

Faalbahraan was an odd fellow.  He was a Blue Dragonborn from a Clan that I didn’t recognize.  All that Hacari could tell me about him was that he was wealthy, seemed honorable, but also seemed a bit paranoid. 

Days passed.  I honed my craft.  Faalbahraan even took notice of my training and gifted me a fine diamond in order for me to learn my Chromatic Orb spell.  Evenings were spent listening to Hacari’s tales and playing cards.  All in all, this was my dream assignment.

It all changed about a month ago.  Hacari and I accompanied Faalbahraan to a dark warehouse in a shady section of town.  Faalbahraan rarely left his compound and when he did it was usually to one of his shops in the merchant district.  At first we were told to guard the carriage, but Hacari insisted to accompany Faalbahraan.  I got to stay and guard the carriage.

A half an hour passed and I started to worry.  I used my Message spell to talk to Hacari.  ‘Is everything alright?’ I asked through the wire.  ‘No!  Our charge is a lie.  He’s evi….’ Hacari replied, but was cut off at the end.  Hacari was dead.

Two goons exited the warehouse and pointed at me.  ‘You!’ The big one said.  ‘Come here.  Your master wants to see you.’  They advanced on me with their hands on their weapons.  One more came through the door and drew a small hand crossbow and proceeded to shoot at me.  I think they must have thought I was an unskilled kid.  I immolated the one with the crossbow and my orb spell took down the larger of the thugs.  The smaller one managed to close enough to stab me with a dagger, but my shocking grasp allowed me to break away.  I was able to stealth into the shadows and make my way back to the compound.

When I returned, the place was in disarray.  The usual guards were replaced by humans.  This was not the order of watch.  I managed to ‘interrogate’ one of the perimeter guards.  It seems that Faalbahraan was in fact an evil crime lord who tried to pass as trustworthy in Neverwinter society.  He used the Brotherhood to maintain his ruse because the Brotherhood was beyond reproach.  It appears that the other crime families of Neverwinter needed Faalbahraan to exit the shadows and exert his dominance over the underworld gem trade in the area.  The Brotherhood guards were to be all killed.

I quietly exited the town and made my way back to the Brotherhood’s compound.  I relayed my tale to my Sargent, Uncle Abalan.  His sources confirmed my story, but they also brought back some disturbing news.

‘It appears you can’t easily return to Neverwinter.’ Abalan said.  ‘The Thieves Guild has a 100 gold death contract on your head.  I’m certain that Faalbahraan wanted to tie up loose ends and didn’t like the fact that you survived.’

That is where I’ll end this tale, because the next week, after my wounds healed, I was given the assignment to travel to Ieirithymbul. 

I hope that this tale was of some entertainment.  I am honored to pick up the mantle of your fallen friend.  I hope to return and tell you this story that will now unfold.

Sincerely,

Your humble servant Arlin

Sorcerer of the second level

Lieutenant of the Draconic Brotherhood