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Prelude 3: The Early History Of Zarron

Prelude 3: The Early History Of Zarron
DM - Fri Mar 20, 2009 @ 04:35AM
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ZarronZarron's first memory was of fleeing from something, or someone. He was 5 years old, dressed in rags, covered in filth, and barefoot. He was running through Borger forest as fast as he could, with absolute terror clinching his stomach and perspiration streaking over his face. It wasn't that he'd lost his mother or his father, if that was what had happened. He couldn't even remember them. All he knew was that he had to get away, from something, from it. It seemed as if death itself were after him. He felt a morbid, yet almost tangible fear of something he couldn't quite grasp. It was something dark, sinister, and irrational.

"Stop boy! You won't get away!" boomed a voice. The sound of it came from every direction, even above him and below him. Terrified and trapped, young Zarron crouched and covered his head as if bracing for a striking blow.

"Stand up you little fool, or else I'll take a rod to you!"

With shaking knees, Zarron stood, dried his eyes, and looked up into the forest canopy.

"You are not going to see my face. Not yet. You're going to have to earn that right, and so far I'm not impressed by your antics. Running from me like a terrified little mouse - no, more like a rat! A scabby dog!"

"Who are you?" cried Zarron.

"That is not the question, you idiot! The question is who are you, and how are you going to serve me?

"Serve?"

"Yes, serve. Seeing you have no one else in this world, for reasons you've obviously suppressed, I'm all you have and all you'll ever have. You brought this upon yourself, and I must say I'm impressed by all you've already managed to do at such a tender age. And for your actions - because of your vicious deeds, you shall forever be bound and subject to my whims and capriciousness. Defy me once, and I shall strike you down and see to it your soul is forever turned and salted on a spit in Hades!"

Zarron began crying again, and to this the voice responded by snatching him up in tempest winds and carrying him away. The winds didn't say a word when they abandoned him in the sands of the strange shores of the Kuno Islands. The Kuno Islands are a volcanic chain of islands not too distant from Coldert's southern coast. Zarron's never heard the voice another time, but it has haunted him ever since that day. 5 times each day, he still mutters silent prayers to this mysterious entity. For fear or for reverence does he pay this homage? Even he isn't certain.

Not long after his abandonment on the shores of the Kuno Islands, Zarron wandered into the seafaring and prosperous town, known as Kuno Port. Here he began building a life. Zarron immediately made a home in a ship graveyard that had long been overgrown with vegetation. Only at night did he venture into the Kuno Port streets and mix with the population. At first he was a beggar dressed in rags, able to feed himself on stale bread and lard when passers by sighed, "Poor dirty child," and dropped a copper into his upturned palms. However, because he was left to his own devices, Zarron quickly learned to juggle and play card tricks. As such, he began gathering crowds with his displays of dexterity, charm, and wit. In no time, though he still maintained his home in the hull of an abandoned ship, he was well-fed and dressed. By the time he was 12, he'd managed to recruit a few street children that served his every whim. He taught them not only how to beg, perform card tricks, and juggle. He taught them to steal. Zarron had discovered that his feats of dexterity often came in handy for training his hands to sneak a bit here and there from the pockets and purses of unsuspecting Port citizens. Besides, pick pocketing often paid better than juggling.

By the time Zarron was 16, he was the leader of a small den of child thieves he'd recruited with his charm, and he ran this den from the ship graveyard. His little beggars, jugglers, and pickpockets had found a home. It was an acceptable living, with the exception being the few times his sovereignty was challenged. Those incidents had lead to the relegation of certain members of his group, including the untimely demise of one of them.

But Kuno Port was not Zarron's ultimate dream. Over the years he saved enough to buy a small, raggedy, ship and spent hours each day studying seafarers' maps, journals, and constellations. By the age of 18, Zarron and his small group of thieves took up the anchor and began sailing about the Kuno Islands. "We've become pirates now!" they all boasted. As such, they began making shady deals with some of the locals, stealing small loads of cargo from unsuspecting fisherman and dabbling in low-key seafaring tasks for the cities' thieving guild.

Unfortunately, the weather from the Kuno Islands to the Coldert coast is unpredictable and violent. Zarron's crew was a far cry from being well seasoned sailors, so when a violent storm hit them unexpectedly one night, Zarron's ship was capsized. His entire crew drowned and all the ship's cargo was lost. Only Zarron survived the perilous waters by holding tight to a section of the mast. Luckily, a slave ship saved the day when it spotted him floating with the wreckage, fished him out, and added him to its payload.

View Zarron's Character Sheet

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