Post by The Supreme Watcher on Oct 6, 2007 15:51:55 GMT -5
Waterdeep. The City of Splendors. Largest city of Faerun and most active trade station in all of the known lands, Waterdeep had given rise to many heroes and champions. But not the brothers Glandash.
Gerard Glandash was once a farmer, tilling the soil to make his meager way in the world. But Gerard was fine with his life as a simple man of the land. Why wouldn't he be? He had a beautiful wife, Lena Glandash, and a just recently born son whom he would teach all the aspects of farming, and eventually pass the family farm on to. However, bliss has its way of shattering itself into a trillion pieces.
Lena was with child again, and the pregnancy was coming along nicely. Gerard had all the hopes of another strapping son, and Garum, at this time only three years old, was eager to have a brand new baby sibling. On the night of birth, however, there were serious complications, and Lena died of blood loss in their small farm home. The family wouldn't ever be the same.
The child turned out to be a boy, who lived despite his lack of a mother. However, for the youngest child, life wouldn't be easy at all. Garum was by far the favored son, for Gerard blamed Kalak for his wife's early demise. From the time Kalak was old enough to talk he was trying to defend himself from his father's sweeping accusations. Beating of the child was common, and Garum would watch as Gerard beat Kalak to within an inch of his life, over and over again.
Instilled with an inferiority complex, and toned from years of savage beatings, Kalak wasn't long for the family farm.
"Father, I'm leaving you." He said one morning, at only the age of fourteen. "You'll never see my face again."
"And where are you off to, you worthless wretch?" Gerard asked.
"Away from here. Whereever I have to go to keep me away from you." He shouldered a sack with his modest possessions and stepped through the door, walking down the road without looking back. He didn't know where he was headed, only that he was moving away from the farm, and into his future.
Garum watched his younger brother start off down the road, a tear running down his cheek. This was his baby brother, pushed out by his abusive father. Garum couldn't Just sit back and do nothing. He gathered his things and his sword, and walked towards the door, looking to his father.
"Where are you going, boy?" His dad asked, looking at him with his brow furrowed.
"I'm protecting my brother." He stepped out the door, and dashed to catch up with Kalak.
The brothers lived on the road for a year, until they finally made their way to Waterdeep. After a while, Garum was selling his blade to whomever would buy it, and Kalak was managing his coins, stealing what they couldn't buy. Over time, the two made a science out of their unique duality, and turned it into their own small business: the Glandash Mercenary company.
Of some repute in the city, the brothers wrangled the tougher jobs, captured exotic animals for the prestigious circuses, and put down raiding parties of monsters for the Waterdhavian guard.
Life was good for the two brothers, who were living a life of some luxury, seeming to be the icon of the working class hero. Until, of course, that fated day where it all came undone.
The large sum of coin in the coffers of the company seemed much less sinister at the dawn of the day, and the letter that came with it seemed to be another one of those eccentric wizards' neurotic demands.
"In the Graveyard, below the Mausoleum of Derminus Tollinger. Kill it."
The brothers saw no reason to fear what could be in this crypt, perhaps some mummy or zombie that was scaring a local, certainly nothing too terrific.
They were sorely mistaken.
Garum set out with his men, looking to kill whatever it was that was in that crypt.
And Kalak stayed back, as always, keeping track of the paperwork.
And then strange things began happening.
Kalak watched in awe as the massive pile of coins in the treasury began to transform, becoming nothing more than thousands of chips of clay. Fake gold, an illusory payment that gave Kalak an intense sense of forboding.
Garum kicked open the door to the crypt, and a pair of crossbow-wielding men ducked inside, training their weapons down the stairway.
"It's clear." They said, and Garum stepped in, sniffing the air for some indication of what lay ahead. Only the earthy scent of the underground and the musty haze of dampness flooded his nostrils.
The group ventured farther down the corridor, and passed into a large chamber....
// TO BE CONTINUED...
Gerard Glandash was once a farmer, tilling the soil to make his meager way in the world. But Gerard was fine with his life as a simple man of the land. Why wouldn't he be? He had a beautiful wife, Lena Glandash, and a just recently born son whom he would teach all the aspects of farming, and eventually pass the family farm on to. However, bliss has its way of shattering itself into a trillion pieces.
Lena was with child again, and the pregnancy was coming along nicely. Gerard had all the hopes of another strapping son, and Garum, at this time only three years old, was eager to have a brand new baby sibling. On the night of birth, however, there were serious complications, and Lena died of blood loss in their small farm home. The family wouldn't ever be the same.
The child turned out to be a boy, who lived despite his lack of a mother. However, for the youngest child, life wouldn't be easy at all. Garum was by far the favored son, for Gerard blamed Kalak for his wife's early demise. From the time Kalak was old enough to talk he was trying to defend himself from his father's sweeping accusations. Beating of the child was common, and Garum would watch as Gerard beat Kalak to within an inch of his life, over and over again.
Instilled with an inferiority complex, and toned from years of savage beatings, Kalak wasn't long for the family farm.
"Father, I'm leaving you." He said one morning, at only the age of fourteen. "You'll never see my face again."
"And where are you off to, you worthless wretch?" Gerard asked.
"Away from here. Whereever I have to go to keep me away from you." He shouldered a sack with his modest possessions and stepped through the door, walking down the road without looking back. He didn't know where he was headed, only that he was moving away from the farm, and into his future.
Garum watched his younger brother start off down the road, a tear running down his cheek. This was his baby brother, pushed out by his abusive father. Garum couldn't Just sit back and do nothing. He gathered his things and his sword, and walked towards the door, looking to his father.
"Where are you going, boy?" His dad asked, looking at him with his brow furrowed.
"I'm protecting my brother." He stepped out the door, and dashed to catch up with Kalak.
The brothers lived on the road for a year, until they finally made their way to Waterdeep. After a while, Garum was selling his blade to whomever would buy it, and Kalak was managing his coins, stealing what they couldn't buy. Over time, the two made a science out of their unique duality, and turned it into their own small business: the Glandash Mercenary company.
Of some repute in the city, the brothers wrangled the tougher jobs, captured exotic animals for the prestigious circuses, and put down raiding parties of monsters for the Waterdhavian guard.
Life was good for the two brothers, who were living a life of some luxury, seeming to be the icon of the working class hero. Until, of course, that fated day where it all came undone.
The large sum of coin in the coffers of the company seemed much less sinister at the dawn of the day, and the letter that came with it seemed to be another one of those eccentric wizards' neurotic demands.
"In the Graveyard, below the Mausoleum of Derminus Tollinger. Kill it."
The brothers saw no reason to fear what could be in this crypt, perhaps some mummy or zombie that was scaring a local, certainly nothing too terrific.
They were sorely mistaken.
Garum set out with his men, looking to kill whatever it was that was in that crypt.
And Kalak stayed back, as always, keeping track of the paperwork.
And then strange things began happening.
Kalak watched in awe as the massive pile of coins in the treasury began to transform, becoming nothing more than thousands of chips of clay. Fake gold, an illusory payment that gave Kalak an intense sense of forboding.
Garum kicked open the door to the crypt, and a pair of crossbow-wielding men ducked inside, training their weapons down the stairway.
"It's clear." They said, and Garum stepped in, sniffing the air for some indication of what lay ahead. Only the earthy scent of the underground and the musty haze of dampness flooded his nostrils.
The group ventured farther down the corridor, and passed into a large chamber....
// TO BE CONTINUED...
