Echoes of the Past
Gnome Titan Fighter Thief, Short , Mean , a compulsive close talking Liar.
Garak early arrival
Most often taken as a dwarf or diminutive human. Garak is neither. This world knew nothing of his race because he is not of this world. Oh the air breaths the same and humans walk about like they owned all they surveyed. But in this world they do not have to share it with anyone but themselves.
At least in the world he came from humans and other taller creatures knew better than to refer to him or his kind as a half man. Makes his ears hurt and his blood boil to hear such.
So how did he come to be here ? Like all empty headed humans some of them just have to meddle with magic. They can’t leave it alone long enough to think about the consequences of what they are doing. Some wizardly type in this world attempted a summoning and brought him here instead. Perhaps if they were looking for a handsome, strong, fearless companion to delve into dungeons, they did indeed summon the right thief. But Garak will never know because when he came too he was outside a ruined building in a big snow bank. The building itself was a broken pile of stone and fire. Back on what he now knows as his world, he had just been extricating himself from a wealthy merchants house with a rare book. As his foot touched the ground he was struck by a tremendous blast of light and sound.
In time he has proved his worth and found a companionship of sorts with an assortment of odd characters here in sanctuary. The Spinning Copper Gang has become a family of sorts in an otherwise uncaring land.
From the memory wipe
Having had his mind wiped he will have to construct his background as time and healing allow. Presently he has escaped from a burning building only to be critically wounded in the foot by human thug. His already slow speed has been cut in half. It will be all the more difficult to not appear an easy target to the vulgar inhabitants of this accursed town.
Garak’s first and last session for now..
The building itself was about the size of a large horse carriage garage, without windows and only the one door. A moment of confusion passed and they confirmed that the only exit was locked from the outside. The sound of flames and smell of smoke set them into motion. Garak took to the rafters and knocked some of the tiles out of the roof. A quick look about verified that flames were working their way up the outside at the ends of the building. The others were following as he dropped down to the ground.
Two men were standing in alley next to the place where Garak dropped to the ground. They both attacked him as hit the dirt and managed to score a critical hit to his foot with a dagger. Garak was never much of an actor but now was a good time to play dead. Dropping to the side along the footing of the wall and laying very still probably saved his life. He is only a little over 3 foot tall so given the blood and so on he was not accounted a further threat. The others began jumping down and entered the fray. In less than a minute the dockworker that injured Garak was himself on the ground and dead (Garak Coups de gras ). The other thug took off. The dead man had on his chin a tattoo with 3 vertical lines to identify him as one of the dock workers. Garak lifted his purse but otherwise there was nothing of interest on him.
Everyone thought that a quick exit was in order to avoid a crowd gathering to fight the fire. The wizard that trapped them there and set fire to the building must have been confident enough to leave the scene. The party split up and made it deeper into the city to avoid getting caught up in any investigation by the patrollers. Unfortunately Garak being small and injured was not fast enough to avoid capture. He really had no idea where he would go anyway thanks to the memory wipe.
The remainder of the party walked through the city looking for familiar sights to prompt a memory of where they lived. Garak hoped that they made it for without that memory he could not betray them.
I wonder where the others are. This cell is smelly, wet, cold, damp, dark, noisy, uneven, threatening. That odd looking guy over there keeps looking my way. Perhaps he’ll fall ill tonight and choke on some filth packed straw. Looks like he’s no better off than me but that coat looks warm. Shouldn’t take him long before he crawls over here. I’ll just look a little glassy eye. Hehe this will be fun. I’ll just have to do the groin stomp with my other foot. Ah a life of crime, the good life.
Well into the night when everyone else ‘appears’ to be sleeping soundly the slow scraping from the old man has come as close as I’d expected. I release a soft snore and adjust my position slightly. Instead of the quick thrust from a shiv or a straggling rope around my neck I hear " Psst ". Not what I was expecting to say the least. How do you kill someone who says “Psst” in the city’s lowest jail. The sound emanated once again from the huddle of rags as it undulated closer. “Me names Gregor” he whispered. “Would you be one of the spinning copper gang”? .
Predictably I answer “who wants to know Gregor”? Of course he says “Gregor, that’s whah I said, Me names Gregor”.
“Well Gregor perhaps I should say why do you want to know”? Communicating with lower life forms can be tedious but on occasion can be rewarding.
“If you are the half man whot works with the spinning copper gang then perhaps I can help while youse in here” he says in a barely audible whisper.
“Perhaps you can Gregor”. My good foot twitched, eager to be released on a groin stomp at the mention of ‘half man’.