Out of the Abyss
So, ya figured out I was a soldier back under the sun. Now you’ve got it in yer fool heads that I’m gonna be yer savior. Get a sword in my hands and suddenly I’m some sorta hero. I’ve seen that look in people’s eyes before. Cyric’s bleeding gums, yer stupid.
Lemme explain something about heros.
Ya see I knew a hero. Served with ‘im. Nefarious Bredd was his name. Giant whoreson from some village, some where. Don’t matter. He ain’t ever going back there.
I fought in three battles during the war with Many-Arrows. So did Bredd. Our first engagement was defending some farmstead. Those people knew that if we didn’t stop those orcs, they were going to lose what little they had left. They looked like you did before I started talking.
Illmater’s bloody sores. Most of ’em ended up in the orc stewpots.
Anyway… Bredd was on the front lines. He killed 12 orcs that morning before his axe broke. After that he killed 6 more by using a seventh as a club. The bastard was covered in gore from his oversized feet to his empty skull by the end of day.
Me? I huddled in a trench with Suzy an’ lobbed bolts into the mess.
Ya look confused now. You know Suzanne.
She that beauty always hang on the back of that particularly nasty spider humper. The one that beats me everyday because I make eye contact with him.
Anyway, Suzy an’ me don’t know our kill count for day. That’s the nice thing about crossbows; you don’t have to look ’em the eye most of the time.
We lost that battle. Western flank collapsed. Orcs flanked and routed the farmstead. Almost a quarter of our forces were dead or down.
The second battle was more o’ the same. Bredd literally tore an orc to pieces. Torm’s iron balls. PIECES! More ’en just 2 or 3.
Suzanne an’ me were up on a roof. More people dead. More ground given.
On the third day it rained. It was colder and Kelemvor’s hands and wetter than Sune’s snatch.
And that’s before the blood started spilling.
Enough people were dead that Suzy and me were moved to the front line. I was part of the shield line with ol’ Nefarious Breed hacking over my head. I lost my sword in an orcs belly at some point. When yer huddled behind a shield, holding the line, you still don’t see many faces but now, now you got deal with the smell. Piss, shit, blood and e’rything else that’s supposed to stay inside o’ you.
No amount of rain can keep that covered.
Anyway, Bredd, he was hero. That means people had noticed him. Well, he caught a volley of orc spears with his face and chest. That’s where being a hero gets you.
Well, when that big bastard went down he landed on my leg, shattered my Bane cursed knee. Orcs trampled me, broke a couple o’ ribs and one of Suzy’s arms. If reinforcements hadn’t shown up I’d have ended up in a stewpot with those farmers.
Instead, we got dragged back to triage where the clerics and weaponsmiths were able to put us back together. My knee was too fucked up to hold my weight so I took to drinking. Stayed in the bottom of the bottle ’till I ended up in Luskan. Last thing I remember is drinking sour ale at The Gibbet Moon then I woke up in chains with a spider humper kicking me.