Character History: Seebo the Knife

The low buzz of the inn droned in the background while The Knife sat at the bar staring a little too intently at his mug of ale. The latest dangers of the day had been laid to rest and all that remained was to wait for whatever was to come next. The Knife was fortunate enough to know what was coming next. He had been part of the group that discovered the Duergar army would reach Saragost in who knew how long.

The sunlight dimmed and patrons continued to flow into the inn. Martial law had been declared a few days earlier and rumors of the marching army had spread through the city very quickly. People panicked the first day but as time went on, the threat of war became less real to the citizens of Saragost.

Having fought against the agents of the Duergar and Drow for the last several days, The Knife was ready for a break, a reprieve from the constant dangers. This was probably the worst place in the world to wait for that reprieve though.

". . .The Knife . . . brought the army . ." A few words from a nearby conversation happened to catch the ear of The Knife. He sat without moving as he picked out the voices that were talking about him. "I'm almost sure of it."

"No, that guy looks too pudgy. Besides, he's only got two knives on his belt. I've got three on mine. You'd think anyone who calls himself 'the Knife' would be better equipped considering the army coming. That's just some lonely halfling; you don't know what you're talking about."

The Knife smiled to himself, "If they only knew." He could see he wouldn't find his peace here so he stood up on his barstool and jumped to the floor, leaving a few gold coins on the bar for his drinks. He turned toward the two men who had thought they were having a private conversation and gave a mischievous grin.

A waitress walked in front of The Knife temporarily blocking him from the view of the two men. When she passed, The Knife was gone, vanished with only his empty mug of ale a sign he was ever there. "See! I told you it was him! He heard every word you said. You better watch out and hope he's not the vengeful type!"

With less than hour until he was to meet back up with his compatriots, the Knife decided to take a nice, quiet walk to clear his mind. Passing another inn several blocks down, he heard a scuffle down a side alley. With a sigh of obvious discontent, the Knife made his way through the shadows to investigate what was going on.

Three men stood with short blades out threatening a young couple. A few words were exchanged, the thugs demanding all of the couples' valuables. How perfect; a mugging. Can't I find even a moment of peace tonight? The Knife thought to himself, pulling a blade of his own out as he silently made his way further into the alley.

---

"Where are we going Seebo?"

"It's a small town called Greenfield. I grew up there but I haven't been back in years."

Four halflings walked down a dirt road towards the small village of Greenfield. Seebo hadn't been back to his home in at least five years, and there was no telling what state of ruin his family farm was in. He didn't really care though. When he left he had no intention of looking back and that hadn't changed.

The mid-afternoon sun shone brightly in the sky warming the chilly January air keeping the walk very enjoyable. The first outlying farms could be seen as the four topped a hill, the Brookhollow place. Seebo stopped a moment and took a long look at the farm. This village held nothing but sadness for him, nothing but pain except for one memory.

Annie Brookhollow. She was Seebo's best friend and the only person he had ever really trusted. He wondered if she even remembered him. It had been long enough and the last time he had seen her they were both just children.

After the accident, Seebo wouldn't talk to anyone. He retreated within himself and cut the world out of his life. The only person who could ever get any sort of reaction out of him was Annie.

"Is everything alright? What do you see?"

"Nothing. It's nothing. Let's go, I'm getting hungry. Don't fall behind or I'll leave your sorry arses out here in the middle of nowhere."

Two of the other halflings dropped back a bit to whisper among themselves. "What crawled down his throat and died?" They laughed and joked a bit more, Seebo seeming not to hear. He heard though; he just didn't care.

By the time the four had reached town, the sun had dropped below the horizon, the afternoon turned to evening and eventually to night. Torch lamps adorned the street casting long shadows across the ground. The wind had picked up making the fires dance wildly. Clouds closed in above to hide the light from the stars and the moon. The darkness grew deeper as the wind continued to howl.

As Seebo and his crew crossed into town, rain began to fall, slowly at first, but progressing into a full downpour very quickly. They made a quick run for the inn but couldn't escape the rain, each soaked to the bone.

They entered the inn and were greeted by the oddest sight. It was empty. There was no fire lit, no bard playing a lively tune, no patrons at all. The four of them stood for a moment caught completely off guard. "Is this normal Seebo? You come from a weird place."

"Shut up Terrin. No, this isn't normal. Gimme a second to find the innkeep. You guys wait here." Seebo shook the water out of his hair and his cloak quickly and ventured into the apparently deserted inn. He walked up to and behind the bar to take a look for any signs of recent activity; more to the point, hidden lockboxes that needed to be found. The bottles of wine and whiskey showed signs of recent use and the counter was clean enough, no dust or cobwebs. Seebo scanned the bottom shelves and cabinets real quick looking for that elusive lockbox. He was so intent on finding it he didn't even hear the barkeep come up behind him.

With a sword to the back of his neck, Seebo stopped what he was doing and slowly stood with his back to his assailant. He raised his hands in the air to show he was unarmed and meant no harm. "Turn around slowly lad."

Seebo turned as he was instructed, glancing over to the side where his crew was when he started his searching. They of course were not there, probably hiding in a corner not wanting to get into trouble. C"owards, "Seebo thought to himself promising he would make sure he repaid the favor to them . . .

"Now, what is it you're doing here lad. Not trying to steal my day's wages are ye?"

"No sir, I just came in from Haverdale, was trying to get out of the rain. I expected I would be able to get a room for the night but the inn looked deserted. I was just looking to see if that was the case or if there might be someone around."

"Behind me bar? A likely story. There are no rooms available for the likes of ye. Now get the hell out before I call the Constable."

"But it's pouring out there. You can't do this!"

"I can and I am. Get out of here!"

"You would do this to one of your own? You would do this to me, Seebo Hallowfield? Greenfield's lost son?"

"How dare you! Seebo was a good and decent boy! How dare you use his name to save your sorry hide!" The innkeeper backed away slowly, still keeping the sword point on the Seebo. "Anna! Go get Constable Kerny! We've got some trouble down here." The innkeeper yelled.

That was all they needed though. Seebo's crew jumped from the darkness and pounced on the barkeep, pinning him to the floor. Terrin wrestled the sword from his hands as Seebo, reached under the counter and pulled a small wooden box out. "You know I really was just looking for a room but since you seem to think me nothing but a common thief, who am I to argue? Thanks for the hospitality! Ok boys, let's go." Terrin struck the back of the barkeep's head with the pommel of the sword, knocking him unconscious.

Not wanting to go out the front door, just in case someone had heard all the commotion, the four halflings made their way through the kitchen to the back door. Once outside, they slowly sneaked down the alley. The rain had made it almost impossible to for them to hear the woman come out behind them . . .

Terrin let out a yelp of pain as a crossbow bolt struck him in the back. He fell forward, face down in a puddle of water. He didn't move.

Anger gripped Seebo; the rage built and blinded him from anything but revenge for seeing his friend fall before him. He pulled a dagger from his belt and spun, letting it fly as he came to face his foe. The knife flew wide, sticking in the wall to the left of a young woman fervently trying to reload her crossbow. The two others drew weapons too and advanced on her.

The rain hid her face. Long hair hung over the short frame of a halfling woman. Her simple dress was soaked and clung to her body outlining the curves of her shapely form. Seebo didn't see any of this. Terrin lay dead and only one thing mattered: vengeance.

Seebo's crew rushed forward and grabbed the frightened woman. She turned to run, but was not quick enough. They turned her around and threw her against the wall. She just stood there with a look of absolute terror in her eyes.

Seebo stepped forward slowly, his blade in hand. "They gave me a new name when I left. They saw fit to give me a new identity too. They called me The Knife. You're about to find out why little lady."

The woman reached up and pulled the hair from her eyes. She knew the voice. She thought she would never see him again. She was even more surprised that the once innocent boy she knew now threatened her. "Seebo? Is that you? No!"

Seebo faltered for a moment. He too knew that voice, it was Annie. He had thought he would never see her again. His anger subsided slightly as he struggled to comprehend what was happening. "That bitch killed Terrin! Do it Seebo!"

The two halfling holding her saw the hesitation in his eyes. They saw the doubt and the fear. The Knife had lost his edge. One of them turned and landed a punch square in Annie's stomach, causing her to double over and fall to the ground. The other halfling joined in as Seebo just watched, dumbstruck by what to do.

For several seconds the two laid into the poor woman, beating her for killing their friend. She cried out in pain. That was when Seebo snapped. His mind lost all conscious thought and he acted on instinct alone. He would never know what happened in those next few seconds.

The night passed and the dawn broke. Water dripped on Seebo's face, waking him from his unconscious state. He sat in an alley among small piles of trash. Four bodies lay around him, unmoving and silent. He struggled to sit up, his body ached. As he moved to stand, a sharp pain in his side brought him back to the ground. He looked down to see the side of his shirt caked with dried blood and a gash about four inches long in the side of his stomach.

He looked at the bodies around him. His crew was dead. There was a woman too. Fear took hold of him as he remembered a few stray details of last night. He had to get out of here and fast. He had no idea what was happening but he knew it wasn't good.

Seebo fought the pain, he fought the anger and the grief and he ran. He ran as far as his legs would take him. He collapsed in a copse of trees far from Greenfield, far from whatever life he had once had. The only woman he ever really cared for, the only friends he had ever known, what once was his home, it was all gone. Seebo had died last night with the rest of them. All that remained was The Knife.

---

One of the thugs reached out to grab a necklace the young woman was wearing but before his hand had reached the woman's neck, a small knife flew from the darkness piercing him through his palm. Surprised by the knife from nowhere the thug could only cry in agony as he clutched his hand, now drenched in blood.

The other two spun to look for the person who dared interrupt their business. In the moment of distraction, the couple bolted for the other end of the alley, trying desperately to escape harm's way. One of the thugs caught them before they could get far while the leader turned expecting to find a new prey.

But there was none, only darkness. "What the hell?"

"You should let them go. No one has to die tonight."

The three thugs broke into laughter at the threat. Another knife flew from the darkness on the other side of the alley, this time finding the neck of the thug who blocked the couples' escape. He dropped to the ground, blood pooling on the ground next to him.

The leader grabbed the woman and pulled a dagger to her throat. "Come out where we can see you or she dies now!" The Knife stepped from the shadows into the light, hands up to show he was unarmed. "You're just a little shit." The leader shoved the woman at The Knife and tossed his dagger into her back. She fell forward into his arms gasping for breath. Anger like he had felt only once before in his life took over. The Knife would never know what happened in those next few moments, just as before.

His eyes shot open and he leaped to his feat pulling a blade in one swift motion. But there was only silence in the darkness. Five bodies lay on the ground before him. With a cold look, The Knife put away his blade. He closed his eyes, so tight he felt he might never again be able to open them. But the anger passed. The grief passed. He calmly pulled his cloak about him and climbed for the rooftops. He stopped a moment at the top of the building and glanced back at the alley. "I'm sorry." He whispered.

The Knife quietly made his way back to the Inn of the Flaming Beard, humming a light-hearted tune to himself, as if this day had never happened.

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