The History of Miles Killian O'Kayne
Miles Killian O'Kayne was born to Richard and Tessele O'Kayne in the year 1351 DR.
The youngest of six siblings, I was fortunate enough that my family was wealthy from their holdings and that I was able to receive education by a private tutor. Daggerdale at the time was occupied by the Zhentarim and their Zhentilar soldiers and had been for a decade. My family home and the farmland that surrounded it were located to the southeast of the town, about two days journey and on the very border between Daggerdale and its free neighbour Shadowdale.
As a child I will admit that I was doted upon as the youngest, and I grew up spoiled and greedy as a result. My mind was honed by my tutor’s lessons in which I excelled to the extent that one night I overheard my tutor recommending to my father that I be offered to a local wizard as an apprentice. Father would hear nothing of it though, having never trusted wizards, after all the great Elminster lived not two days away and did nothing to remove the Zhents from this land despite his high and mighty powers. Richard O'Kayne would not see any of his children become passive through study. Distantly related to the Morn family (and the records proving such were burned early on in the occupation lest the Zhents find them), Richard used his wealth to funnel supplies to the guerilla rebels led by Randal Morn, who were a thorn in the occupying forces side. The family kept up the pretense of being law abiding, paying more than their due in already heavy taxes to ensure that their lands remained theirs, not wishing to suffer the same fate as other families like the Rand's.
All that changed in 1365, only days after my 14th birthday, when a group of Morn's forces were spotted crossing the O'Kayne family lands by a Zhentilar patrol. It was all the excuse the Zhentarim needed to move to seize the rich lands. Forewarned by the rebels, my family fled to Shadowdale, all but me that is. I was curious to see these oppressors I had been taught to hate. So I stayed behind, my absence was not noticed in the blind hurry with which the rest of my family packed their things into a couple wagons and headed off to safety. Lurking behind in the old manor house, I watched through an upstairs window as a column of soldiers approached, a couple figures in robes escorted by the fierce black metal clad men. As the troops entered the house, I felt a hand close over his mouth and voice beside my right ear whisper "Come, you and I have no more place here child".
Whoever this person was they threw me over their shoulder, and I was carried from the house into the night, too scared to make a sound. I was taken to a cave, hidden by thick undergrowth elsewhere on the estate and secreted inside by this stranger who then stepped back and regarded him in the gloom. After a minute the stranger pulled back the hood of his cloak. Though I was unable to make out much of his details, I gasped at seeing the pointed ears of this fellow; he was an elf! Living a secluded life, I had never before seen a creature from any race save his own. I had heard tales of his father and the farmhands dealing with goblins on the fringes of their lands before, and many stories in the histories I had heard related to dwarves and elves and all manner of monsters. Never before had I seen proof that such were more than stories.
"My name is Respen Moondown, I am an associate of Randal Morn and a friend of your father. It is good I spotted you, had the Zhents found you boy I shudder to think what would have been done with you. Still I admire your bravery and also your curiosity, that you would remain alone in a darkened house to confront an army is foolhardy, but for one so young very impressive" the elf said all this in a serious tone, no trace of emotion on his face.
"What are you going to do with me?" I asked hesitantly, doing my best to show no fear.
"Return you to your family, it will not be hard to catch up to them"
"NO! I want to help, I saw their soldiers, and I want to stop them"
"No?" the elf paused and stepped forward that I might see him better "Very well then, I see some determination in you. I will send word to your family that you are safe. I think you could be useful, but only if you obey me, agreed?"
There was no hesitation I agreed instantly and we set off together through the fields and orchards of my family estate. I spent the next two years training beside him, learning from him how to move without sound and without being seen. He was strict, and my lessons were never easy. More times than I can remember I wanted to give up, but I never did. My father was a proud man, if I had come back to him it would have been in shame as a failure, I could not bear to see him look upon me as such. I joined him on missions from when I was sixteen, striking at the hated Zhents; his training in their ways having shown me the best ways to fight and kill them. For some reason despite being raised in the countryside, I was most at ease amongst the grimy buildings of Dagger Falls, and here is where I worked. Operating from safe houses in the town (such as the Red Rock tavern and Dulwar's Tannery) and its surroundings, picking off soldiers, setting fires to warehouses of Zhent goods, picking the shackles that bound coffles of slaves, poisoning the barrels of water in the Zhentilar barracks and a hundred other such tasks. I delighted in hurting these people, though Respen became distanced from me somewhat, our views on how to achieve our mutual goal differing somewhat.
The foe I most wanted to deal with was Tren Noemfor, the "Constable" of Dagger Falls, a man sent from Zhentil Keep to run the town for the Zhentarim. Respen however forbade me from dealing with him, his argument being that were the Zhents leader in this part to be eliminated, they would only send another, one crueler, and more powerful than the man currently running the place. Day in and day out I had to witness this mans callous use of force and brutality to keep Dagger Falls under his control, as myself and fellow rebels strove by almost any means to drive him from the place.
In 1369 I could stand it no more, we were close to driving the Zhents from Daggerdale altogether, everyone on our side knew it, we just needed something to break their morale for good. They already controlled nothing outside of Dagger Falls itself, even the caravans that came to and from the town were now coming less and less often, not willing to risk running the gauntlet of our attacks. The soldiers inside the town, humans and orcish mercenaries lost a dozen a night to our blades and missiles, the end was near. I decided to finish it, and equipping myself I set out into the town at night to end Tren's life, and break the back of the Zhents by killing their leader, hoping to send the rest into a panic that our forces could exploit.
Making my way through the back alleys and streets was too easy, the soldiers guarded little more than their barracks and the town walls these days, and I was able to make my way to the Constable's Tower without any difficulty. I slipped past the door guards in the gloom, Respen's training paying great dividends and moved into the courtyard and thence into the broad squat tower itself. The opulence inside this place contrasted greatly with the squalid dirty town I knew and loved outside it, and my resolve was strengthened still further when I looked at the plush carpet that covered the stairs leading upwards. It had been taken from my family’s home.
I moved through the tower, dispatching two guards that I came across, the first by garrote, the second a blade through his back. Concealing the bodies I continued to search for my target, glad that he now had two less of his usual six strong bodyguard to call upon. After encountering a guard in the corridor, I dealt with him too, though took a wound to my left arm in the process. Binding it as best I could, I noticed a tapestry moving as though in a draft and grinned. Pulling it from the wall, I quickly made out the outline of a hidden door behind it and after a short while found the catch to release it, pulling the door open a crack and listening for what may lie beyond it. I heard nothing and slipped through the door, closing it as best as I could behind me, leaving it only slightly ajar, not wishing to cut off my only avenue of escape. I was stood in a narrow staircase, coiling upwards. It was designed well; the sword arm of any attacker would be against the wall as they ascended, leaving them at a disadvantage. Such did not bother me, I had trained to use two swords and so this small discomfort was easily overcome.
Edging up the circular staircase, I began to hear murmuring, voices in the near distance, probably in a room at the top of the stairs. I paused and listened and when I could not make out enough, I eased up a few more stairs. I could then hear three separate voices in the room just above where I waited, two for sure were human; Zhents no doubt, the third was guttural and brute like in his talk, probably an orc of some rank. Now I like to think I know my capabilities in a fight, and there was no way I was going to come out on top in a straight fight with three opponents. I decided to wait; after all, they couldn't stay there all night. I climbed up the stairwell wall and positioned myself against the ceiling, looking down from above on the stairs and the doorway. My patience was soon rewarded when sure enough an orc emerged from the room, and one I recognised too. It was Grassh, the commander of the mercenary regiment (or what was left of it) that the Zhents had in their employ here. He had long been a target for those of our side to pick off, but was a wily opponent and had sent several would-be assassins to their graves. Though a tempting choice I remained very still as he trooped down the stairwell, his hobnailed boots making a racket as he stomped down and through the door that hid this place. I assume he thought nothing of the ripped down tapestry that I had left lying in the hallway, as I never saw him again. I hear he died during the retaking of the town a couple days later.
This still left two in there, a difficult but not impossible fight, still I thought it prudent to wait a little longer, even though my muscles were starting to ache, just in case the number I would have to face might reduce itself still further in my favour. Such, however, was not to be the case, and after a while the ache in my arms and legs from maintaining my position became such that I was forced to lower myself back down to the stairs. I rubbed my arms to get the feeling back into them and again pressed my ear to the crack in the doorframe, listening for sounds from the chamber beyond. Nothing, not a sound could I make out and this concerned me. I pushed open the door a crack, allowing me to get the slightest view of the room. What I could make out through my limited viewpoint was a lushly appointed residence, the furnishings no doubt looted from the many estates and noble houses of Daggerdale that the Zhentilar had overrun during their occupation. What troubled me was the pale hand I could see lying on the floor, peeking out of the end of a robe. I pushed the door open still further, one sword in hand ready, and was stunned to see the scene laid out before me. Amidst the splendour of the Constables tower room was a female robed body lying face down on the floor in a spreading pool of her own blood. Knelt beside her, a sword blade at his throat was Tren, his skin ashen, yet his dark eyes full of defiance. What really surprised me was Respen stood behind Tren, a hand twisted in a vice like grip on the Constables hair, his blade at the throat of the man I despised.
"You're late" was my mentor’s only response to what must have been a classic look on my face; poker never was my forte.
"Why is he still alive? Do us all a favour and kill him, you know that’s why I am here" I retorted, trying to regain some ground.
"He is not mine to kill, he is yours." At this Respen stepped back and away from Tren, leaving the man there on his knees. It was only then I noticed that his hands were bound behind him. He looked at me with hatred then, a proud man reduced to this.
"Come on, get it over with!" he snarled, spitting a gob of phlegm and blood to the floor before my boots.
My sword was drawn, I stepped forward and paused and looked to Respen. His gaze back was severe, and yet there was a question there I thought, I realised then I was still being tested. "How do I pass this one?"
The elf smiled crookedly "There is no correct answer to that, but then you did not expect me to simply tell you. You want him dead, he is at your mercy, kill him if you wish, but you'll do so in cold blood".
"Give him a sword" I replied, but was answered only by my mentors head shaking slowly. I grimaced a little; I'd killed dozens of men and orcs, but not like this. I looked back down at Tren, sighed and ran him through, his body heavy on my short sword, his only sound a gurgle as his breath died in his throat.
"If you wish me to be an assassin, then your assassin I am", I spat on the man’s body as it slumped to the floor, and wiped his blood off my blade on his shirt before re-sheathing it. At the side of the room Respen merely nodded, I thought somewhat sadly, and when I looked again he was gone. I stared around the room, helped myself to a few minor valuables, mostly coins and a few small gems, and headed back out of the tower the way I came in, taking care not to be seen.
The next few days were insane, the town fell into anarchy with the notice of Tren's death the next morning, and there was panic in the streets as Zhents and orcs clashed with our forces and each other in the confusion to withdraw. I shudder to think of how many died in the crossfire. But we won, after many hours of constant street to street, and even house to house fighting we retook our capital from its conquerors and for the first time in over two decades Randal Morn was once more ruler of Daggerdale.
The next three years flew by in a haze; I was kept on retainer by Lord Morn's government, though I was rarely called upon to perform the duties to which I was suited. I barely saw Respen during this time, he was instrumental in helping to re-establish government and had little time for me. Still the salary I was provided with kept me in ale and whores well enough, and I even saved up enough to buy myself better weapons and armour. I even heard that my family had moved back from Shadowdale to reclaim their ancestral lands, though I did not go to visit them, and avoided them when I knew they were in town. I do not think my father would approve of the man the war made me into, and I can think of nothing I fear more than his look of disappointment. I know that my father has inquired with Respen as to my whereabouts on a few occasions, and has gotten nothing as a response save the assurance that I am alive and well.
My sleepy lifestyle was brought to an abrupt end in 1372 Dr, Eleint 25th to be precise when I got a visit from Respen. He informed me that an adventuring group of some renown in the southern parts of the country had just entered Daggerdale, and that one of their members was a half-drow by the name of Jared Blackspawn. I asked if he wished this person slain, and was told to hold off for a while, but to instead stay as close to the group as was possible during their time in the town to study them. When I asked as to the half-drow, I was simply told that my mentor would deal with him, though my curiosity as to how was rebuffed with Respen's usual cold silence. I spent the next two days in town tailing various members of the group as they went about the town, though avoiding the half-drow for the most part. When I did see him, I had to admit I was impressed with his skills in make-up; his half-elf disguise damn near fooled me till I heard the monk refer to him by name. The group left town three days after they had arrived, oddly enough setting off to the northwest and the mountains there.
I waited in my Inn room (having moved to the same Inn as the adventurers who call themselves the Clearwater Crusaders), and sure enough a few hours later Respen appeared. I reported back to him what I had learned which is to say not much beyond the group’s names and general makeup. He told me that he had made an offer to Jared to join us, and would be setting him a difficult task to prove his worth when he was next in the town. I voiced my concern as the half-breed had no reason to be loyal to the state, but I got no answer other than to be ready should I be needed. I asked for what, and my only reply was "To replace him".
Sure enough seven days later on Marpenoth 4th the Crusaders arrived back in town. They took their time getting back to the Inn, but no sooner had they settled down with some drinks then Tanus announces to the place that they just killed a Dragon! From the direction they took when leaving here, they can only be referring to Gran'Rath Tendathaloth., a red dragon known to live in the mountains who is spotted frequently in the skies over these parts. I spent the rest of that day and all of the next two tracking the group, though oddly the sorceror Rand seemed to vanish during this time. Then came Respen again on the night of the 6th, to tell me that the half-drow had failed in the task set before him, a simple house break-in and assassination of a merchant. I was told to do my best to ingratiate myself into the group, and thus give Daggerdale's government a voice in how this powerful group conducted its activities. I slept well that night, and on the morrow headed downstairs to make myself known to the Crusaders...
Miles Killian O'Kayne's Family
Richard O'Kayne - Father
Tessele O'Kayne - Mother
Derrus O'Kayne - Eldest Brother (27) Married
Kiya Honor O'Kayne - Sister in law, mother to 3.
Matthew and Brask O'Kayne - Twin Brothers (25)
Claudia Emma Derala - Eldest Sister (24) Married, mother to 2.
Charles Derala - Brother in law
Tentia O'Kayne - Sister (22)
Miles Killian O'Kayne (21)
