Grim
First Post
Chapter the First: In which our hero loses, and then loses again, and then gains.
The world never treated Krogon kindly. His tribe destroyed, his honor decimated, and his spirit broken, he was a man who walked with shame. His only regret was that he had not died with his tribe, that he had run from a fight he new he could not win.
Krogon had always been a realist. His halfling brethren had always been filled with the notion of Heroics and Valor. Krogon was filled with the need to survive, and if that meant running, then so be it.
And so Krogon came to the City of Haln, City of Shadow.
His entrance into the city was not spectacular. He just stood in line, lied to the stupid human guard, and walked in. Easy, simple, effective. Just like Krogon.
Stupid humans. Just like his kinsmen, always wanting to die, always ready to do something stupid. Fools to the last. This city was just another place, just another spawning grounds for the plague that was mankind.
Krogon entered the first good inn he could find, through a door just a few feet from the gates. He rented a nondescript corner room from a nondescript human barkeep, using nondescript money, in a nondescript city that was just another day in the dreary nondescript existence that was Krogon.
After unpacking in his room, he went down to the common room, ordered a stein of ale, and returned to his room. He drank into the night. He drank away his cares, drank away his past, drank away his family, drank away his health. He was about to drink away his life.
And then he saw her.
Slinking across the rooftop on the opposite side of the avenue, a shapely, cloaked figure, dressed in black, dropped down the side of a building, opened a window and scurried inside. Krogon, intrigued by the figure's obvious lack of morals, put the stein down. He got up, donned his suit of leather armor, sheathed his sword, and opened the window.
With dexterous movements, he scaled the brick wall, digging his small, nimble fingers deep into the cracks in the building's side. Upon reaching the rooftop, Krogon drew out a small leather pouch from behind his back.
Silently thanking the merchant he had stolen this from, he began drawing rope out of the pouch, even though it was obviously too small and light to hold more than a foot's length. He pulled out much more than a foot.
Krogon took a small steel thing from his belt, and tied it to the rope. Twisting the thing slightly to the right, he turned it until the upper part split into six even sections, which unfolded into bent hooks. A portable grappling hook.
He threw the rope twice before it landed securely. Grabbing the bag, Krogon whispered silent arcane words before jumping into the air above the road.
He fell…
For about two seconds, and the bag kicked in, sucking up all the rope it had spewed out just a few minutes before. In a rush of wind and silent prayer, Krogon flew across the open space and up towards the roof. Letting go at just the last instant, he landed handily as the rope bag sucked the final length of rope into it, letting go of the portable hook as the knot Krogon had made untied itself. The bag and the hook dropped into the gutter the hook had been caught on with a slight *dink* of metal against metal. The hook, now condensed into a bullet shaped hunk of metal, rolled away, and fell into the drainpipe before Krogon had a chance to grab it.
It made a lot of noise on its way down.
Krogon winced at every *doink* the hook made. He grabbed the rope bag, and began cat-pawing away on his small feet. He did not get far before he heard the footsteps of someone in the street searching for whatever had made those loud banging noises. Krogon stopped, dropped to the roof, and flattened himself as best he could on the slanted tiles. He looked over the edge at the person on the ground.
It was her!
Krogon leaned futher out to get a better look at the silent, cloaked woman. In doing so he dislodged one of the tiles he was resting on, and it slid off the roof. A light went on in the room below Krogon. The woman looked up. Their eyes met.
It was love at first sight. At least until the city guard arrived.
The world never treated Krogon kindly. His tribe destroyed, his honor decimated, and his spirit broken, he was a man who walked with shame. His only regret was that he had not died with his tribe, that he had run from a fight he new he could not win.
Krogon had always been a realist. His halfling brethren had always been filled with the notion of Heroics and Valor. Krogon was filled with the need to survive, and if that meant running, then so be it.
And so Krogon came to the City of Haln, City of Shadow.
His entrance into the city was not spectacular. He just stood in line, lied to the stupid human guard, and walked in. Easy, simple, effective. Just like Krogon.
Stupid humans. Just like his kinsmen, always wanting to die, always ready to do something stupid. Fools to the last. This city was just another place, just another spawning grounds for the plague that was mankind.
Krogon entered the first good inn he could find, through a door just a few feet from the gates. He rented a nondescript corner room from a nondescript human barkeep, using nondescript money, in a nondescript city that was just another day in the dreary nondescript existence that was Krogon.
After unpacking in his room, he went down to the common room, ordered a stein of ale, and returned to his room. He drank into the night. He drank away his cares, drank away his past, drank away his family, drank away his health. He was about to drink away his life.
And then he saw her.
Slinking across the rooftop on the opposite side of the avenue, a shapely, cloaked figure, dressed in black, dropped down the side of a building, opened a window and scurried inside. Krogon, intrigued by the figure's obvious lack of morals, put the stein down. He got up, donned his suit of leather armor, sheathed his sword, and opened the window.
With dexterous movements, he scaled the brick wall, digging his small, nimble fingers deep into the cracks in the building's side. Upon reaching the rooftop, Krogon drew out a small leather pouch from behind his back.
Silently thanking the merchant he had stolen this from, he began drawing rope out of the pouch, even though it was obviously too small and light to hold more than a foot's length. He pulled out much more than a foot.
Krogon took a small steel thing from his belt, and tied it to the rope. Twisting the thing slightly to the right, he turned it until the upper part split into six even sections, which unfolded into bent hooks. A portable grappling hook.
He threw the rope twice before it landed securely. Grabbing the bag, Krogon whispered silent arcane words before jumping into the air above the road.
He fell…
For about two seconds, and the bag kicked in, sucking up all the rope it had spewed out just a few minutes before. In a rush of wind and silent prayer, Krogon flew across the open space and up towards the roof. Letting go at just the last instant, he landed handily as the rope bag sucked the final length of rope into it, letting go of the portable hook as the knot Krogon had made untied itself. The bag and the hook dropped into the gutter the hook had been caught on with a slight *dink* of metal against metal. The hook, now condensed into a bullet shaped hunk of metal, rolled away, and fell into the drainpipe before Krogon had a chance to grab it.
It made a lot of noise on its way down.
Krogon winced at every *doink* the hook made. He grabbed the rope bag, and began cat-pawing away on his small feet. He did not get far before he heard the footsteps of someone in the street searching for whatever had made those loud banging noises. Krogon stopped, dropped to the roof, and flattened himself as best he could on the slanted tiles. He looked over the edge at the person on the ground.
It was her!
Krogon leaned futher out to get a better look at the silent, cloaked woman. In doing so he dislodged one of the tiles he was resting on, and it slid off the roof. A light went on in the room below Krogon. The woman looked up. Their eyes met.
It was love at first sight. At least until the city guard arrived.
