Gotta clean up the place… What a mess! And I thought to myself: “Don’t let the barbarians taste your bloody ale! They’ll get mad!” But tossing around with their gold coins they finally had the better arguments. I think I’m even. Do you probably know where I might buy two new tables and three chairs? No? Well, it’s okay. More space to dance isn’t bad, is it?
But back to the story I wanted to tell ya. Better: Gork wants to tell ya. Gork, bloddy basterd, where are you?! Down under the bar again? Those pals want to hear yer story!
Matey, give me a shout if your tongue runs dry again!
Nic, the barman, walks away, a tall man takes his place. His black hair seems to show right up to the sky and be sharp as needles, his beard shows traces of froth. Overall, it seems as if he simply enjoys the taverns sweets and to hear and share the tales in the air. He begins to speak, his eyes glowing with enthusiasm.
“Cheers! Well seeing as i got the quaffgobb now I shall share a story about a lost soul I once ran into. She was a hot lil number she was, such a vixen, wicked as a spider and sneaky like a fox.
Desmer Snakeeyes was rogue out of Arendur, a city established by an adventuring band led by a minotaur named Warlock who later became king and ruler. She ran a guild of thieves, serving as the kings spies. But you know how those shady folks are, every greedy, she wouldn’t settle for just serving. She began building her own business along side the spy business for the king.
Inevitably the king had enough and he ransacked the guild, but they were waiting, the king fell into an ambush and fought mightily. But remember I told you she was sneaky and wicked? She had in her guild a very powerful wizard and all of a sudden the mighty minotaur king froze in place and out of the shadows stepped Desmer. Wicked demonic dagger in hand, she looked up at his face as she plunged it into his heart.
She fled the city after that, her guild was powerful but it could not withstand the entire city’s wrath. But now this werent the interesting bit, ‘member the demonic dagger? It was the property of a certain demon in the abyss and through this dagger he worked his evil magic and with his endless patience he eventually enslaved her.
She was then doomed to wander the planes at his behest, used as an puppet-assassin her blades drew blood across the multiverse. The demon used his powers to cast her from plane to plane, world to world as he saw fit and when he saw fit. She became a hollow shadow of her former self, ridden with guilt of murdering her old minotaur friend and all the meaningless killing she was doing on the demons behalf.
One day in the middle of the street af some city in some world on some plane, stood before her a man clad in what used to be white garments hanging loosely on his plate mail. He always wore a grim face, but he offered her a hand. He told her he was a demon hunter and he could help her save her soul. But… that’s another story altogether!”