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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Malessa" data-source="post: 213116" data-attributes="member: 4869">Character 7: DanricNote:  Danric, the final PC in this adventure, is a "filler character" that will be run by the DM in the event of an unexpected party vacancy.  He will not be a regular PC in this campaign, but he will show up from time to time.<a href="http://home.cfl.rr.com/rtttoee/char_danric.htm" target="_blank">Danric</a>: Male Rog(2)/Mnk(2) – Danric was on the street, which is nothing out of the ordinary. He spends most of his time there… observing, listening, and feeling the heartbeat of the city. He is a member of the City Watch Elite. Danric is used by the Elite to obtain evidence and information in the interest of the safety of the High Nobility. He is trained in how to work undercover. He moves about freely in places where he is most unwelcome. He hears conversations he was not meant to hear. He acquires items that he is not meant to possess. More recently, Danric has had to learn how to fight his way out of the trouble he frequently gets himself into. He has been trained to kill without a weapon and without a trace.On this particular day, however, none of that mattered. Danric was on the street for a different reason. He was playing a game of sticks with a gang of the local street children, and his team was losing. Danric was up for his turn to swing. He held his stick out and eyed the tosser with his eagle-sharp eyes, awaiting the throw. The stone came at him, and Danric swung with all his might. With a hearty “crack”, the stone flew through the air, high and almost out of sight.The cheers of his teammates were short-lived as the “crack” was suddenly followed by a “crash”… then the yelling started… and the running came soon after. Chester the glassworks vendor was in a rage! The children scattered and Danric did one of the things he does best. He disappeared.After things calmed down a bit, Danric came out of hiding and started heading back toward the Watch station. As he passed through an alleyway near where the game of sticks had taken place, he crossed paths with two of the youngsters that were on the opposing, and thus winning, team. They smiled when they saw him and approached him for a high-five and some good-natured jesting.As their hands were about to slap together, Danric caught a slight change in the boy’s expression, as his gaze seemed to shift slightly to something behind him. Danric’s reflexes and sharp ears kicked into action and he twisted to the side and brought his arm across his chest in an arcing motion… just in time to slap a speeding arrow out of the air.The boys ran off in a panic, and Danric crouched into a defensive position. Cautiously, he peered out from a doorway looking for his attacker. No one was in sight, and no follow-up attack came, so he turned his attention to the arrow. As soon as he picked it up, his posture changed from alert to one of urgency. He dropped the arrow and ran back to his bunkroom to fetch some belongings and to prepare for an unplanned journey.With the alleyway now empty and the danger apparently gone, one of the young boys let his curiosity overcome his fear. He crept out of his hiding spot behind some stacked crates, and approached the fallen arrow with much caution. He picked it up in his hands and noticed something strange. The extra-thick shaft seemed to have markings burned into it. As the boy turned it towards himself, he could see that the markings appeared to form a word. “Hommlet”. As he twisted the arrow shaft in his hands, the boy’s wrist brushed against the feathers. He dropped the arrow in alarm. After staring in disgust at the stain on his wrist, he crouched down to take a more careful look at the arrow…. from a distance this time! The fletching was not what one would expect to see on a plain hunting arrow. These were the fine feathers of a mighty eagle. And they were soaked in blood.The lad stood up and stared down the alleyway in the direction he had seen Danric run. He wondered what, exactly, his friend had gotten himself involved in. With a pang of regret, he wondered if he, and the other children of the streets, would ever see him again.</blockquote>

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