Elim Emberfell, A Survivor's Journey

[Foley]

Name: Elim Emberfell
Race: Human
Class: Fighter
Alignment: Wouldn't you like to know?

Blood, pain, aches, the stench of death.
It’s all I knew for those dark few days after the ambush. I was one of the few survivors…even my brother was gone. I can’t believe almost everyone I knew is gone.

I think they’re the lucky ones, not having to deal with the aftermath. They tell me they can’t find his corpse, not even a single limb. Did he escape? Or did he get captured? If he doesn’t write or find me within the week…I will need to find him. I need to get out of this cot.

The healers and nurses tell me I shouldn’t be alive, that I need to rest more, that I need to let time do its job. I don’t have time to laze in this hospital bed, it has been over a week.

“I’m fine” I tell them every moment I can.

“No, your wounds are still mending, you are far to weak to walk around the temple, let alone leave” they tell me every time.

I will rest, but as soon as I am allowed to leave, I must train and practice, become stronger. I cannot fail my brother again. If he still lives.

 

[Foley]

Recovery
It’s been two weeks since the ambush, the nurses told me this morning I was healthy enough to leave. Finally, I can begin training, looking for my brother, and with it, revenge for the fallen.

The dull aches are back but now only with the sting of sweat. My muscles burn as I heft my sword and shield to block the blows. I need to be stronger than just the peasant boy with a sword that I was.

As I trained my memories floated back to the days when my brother and I were still young, my dreams of being a guard who didn’t have to live in the gutters. My brother would chastise me every time he caught me daydreaming. Telling me that we didn’t have time for dreams, that the guards would arrest kids like us, like him who stole food for us both. He was right then, but we were doing what we had to survive, and I think even now most would’ve understood.

“Maybe I could still be a guard…” I muse out loud, much to the confusion of my sparring partners.

“What’d you say Elim?” They ask as we stop the training for the day.

Before I could answer the other adventurer, a small group came jogging over, raising a ruckus.

“Elim! Elim! The bandits who ambushed the caravan, they were slavers!”

Slavers…they were slavers, and my brother’s body not found. They have him. They must, that’s the only explanation. Oh poor Percy is it my time to rescue you? Pay you back for keeping me safe when we were young?

“Elim? Did you hear us? The town is sending a scout and ranger to track them down to their camp and find their victims. Might take a while though.”

“Elim, are you crying? What happened?”

“He’s alive then. He’s alive! Percy is alive.” I don’t think I ever felt this strong an emotion before, at least until I found him again about a month from then.

 

[Foley]

Murann
Two weeks. I’ve been in this city for two weeks listening and asking questions about the slavers and my brother.

Murann, they call it. A port city, one of the last few in Amn if the news was correct.

I think…I might stay here after I find Percy. A new start and all that. Maybe become a guard. Would be nice to no longer be known as the orphan turned merc following in his brother’s footsteps.

Then again, there’s also those folks called the Starspire Accord. A group of paladins and the like it seems. I wonder if they’d allow some mercenary who wants to do good to join them.

 

[Foley]

The End and a Promise
It’s over. A small group of adventurers killed the slavers, they say none survived, and there were no captives left.

He was dead before they left Tethyr after all.

I am sorry Percy. I am sorry that I failed to protect you like you did for me as children. I swear that I will save others from your fate.

This will be my duty. It will be my new life in this city. I will be a protector for the downtrodden.