During our latest trip to town to level up to 13, Blaylocke has become comfortable enough to finally devulge his history to his friends and compatriots. As we gather ourselves by the fireplace at the Inn, Blaylocke pulls out his drum and begins his tale.....
I was born in a Dwarven Thaig on the Northern tip of the Dragonspine Mountains.
My family was of moderate political standing, much to the shagrin of my ambitious mother.
She thought she had hit the jackpot and married into a wealthy family well above her caste. Unfortunately for her, my father had little political influence and had simply got lucky by inheriting a house in an advantageous location. She assumed she was marrying a senator, turned out he was just the head of the HOA.
My mother would spend most of each day training me and my brothers for political warfare. We learned all the despicable ins and outs of political intrigue. The bribes, assassinations, slander & libel, the discrete dealing and other corrupt ways to enable us to improve our clan's "noble" standing in the Thaig. The remainder of the day she would educate my sisters in the fine art of marrying wealthy.
I grew to loathe the system, and would sneak away frequently to the artisan district where I met an aged blacksmith who clung to the old ways like a beetle to dung. I became his secret apprentice and learned to craft tools, armour, weapons and trinkets in the old style of smithing.
Occasionally I would drift away to the library or to a small local theatre to watch the shows. Though the members of the performance groups were looked down upon by most folks, I would respect them as highly as any mentor in my formative years.
I realized early on in my life that I didn't fit in, and eventually snuck out down the mountainside on my own to spread the word of the dwarven smiths of old and to seek my fame and fortune on a grander scale....
I was born in a Dwarven Thaig on the Northern tip of the Dragonspine Mountains.
My family was of moderate political standing, much to the shagrin of my ambitious mother.
She thought she had hit the jackpot and married into a wealthy family well above her caste. Unfortunately for her, my father had little political influence and had simply got lucky by inheriting a house in an advantageous location. She assumed she was marrying a senator, turned out he was just the head of the HOA.
My mother would spend most of each day training me and my brothers for political warfare. We learned all the despicable ins and outs of political intrigue. The bribes, assassinations, slander & libel, the discrete dealing and other corrupt ways to enable us to improve our clan's "noble" standing in the Thaig. The remainder of the day she would educate my sisters in the fine art of marrying wealthy.
I grew to loathe the system, and would sneak away frequently to the artisan district where I met an aged blacksmith who clung to the old ways like a beetle to dung. I became his secret apprentice and learned to craft tools, armour, weapons and trinkets in the old style of smithing.
Occasionally I would drift away to the library or to a small local theatre to watch the shows. Though the members of the performance groups were looked down upon by most folks, I would respect them as highly as any mentor in my formative years.
I realized early on in my life that I didn't fit in, and eventually snuck out down the mountainside on my own to spread the word of the dwarven smiths of old and to seek my fame and fortune on a grander scale....