Allistar Goodbarrel
Allistar Goodbarrel (a.k.a. Star)
The Halfing’s Gem was a popular tavern in the Coin Borough district of Arindel, the capital city of the kingdom of Galador. “The Gem” had belonged to Allistar's family for generations. The Goodbarrel family had come from the Thimblebark Forest like so many Halfling families had done before and ventured into Arindel to find success as proprietors and merchants. The Gem had gained renown for serving freshly brewed spiced ale and serving hot baked meat and potato pies, both family recipes passed down from parent to child for centuries. What was unknown to the citizenry at large was that the current patriarch of the Goodbarrel family, Brundle Goodbarrel, was also a very skilled pickpocket and once an adventuring rogue and burglar. Brundle came to Arindel to take over the family business after the passing of his father and his mother only a scant few years later.
Brundle found he still had the lust for adventure and shiny coin, especially shiny coin that did not quite belong to him. He would spend an occasional evening picking the pocket of a particularly drunk aristocrat or noble; someone that could afford to be a few gold dragons lighter in his purse and never so much that the victim would notice losing. These small crimes would also go unnoticed by the thieves’ guild, as Brundle did not wish to be mixed up with that lot. As years pass, the Goodbarrel patriarch would teach not just the skills of the pickpocket but also the ways of the larcenous rogue; one that explored tombs and dungeons and liberate it of its hidden secrets. Hilda, the mother of Allistar and his sister Margeet, did not approve of her husband teaching their children the skills of a thief, but Brundle always argued that if something ever happened to the Gem, that their offspring would have the skills to help them not only survive, but possibly amass a fortune of their own without having to be lowly barkeeps.
One stormy night, a patron not recognized by the Goodbarrel family stumbled into the Halfing’s Gem. The man looked rich dressed in silk and velvet fineries. He had the accent of an aristocrat or a noble; proper Celinadian he spoke. The man was already in his cups as he sat at a table and ordered the most expensive mulled wine the Halfling’s Gem kept in stock. Throughout bringing the man goblet after goblet of wine, Allistar would learn the man’s name was Gilliam Velley, a small lord and well to do silk merchant. The storm would rage on, and the nightly regular patronage would leave the tavern, hurrying home to shutter their windows. Gilliam kept drinking, and his speech became more slurred, his eyes sagged more, his head lowered with his chin almost resting on his chest. Allistar had been eyeing the man’s opulent jeweled rings and his bulging coin purse sine he sat at the table alone.
With only a handful of drinkers left in the taproom, Gilliam leaned over the table and rested his head over his arms, which were folded atop the wooden table. Allistar decided this was his opportunity to ensure he received a good tip for his service and lightly and expertly loosened the drawstrings of Gilliam’s pouch. The man sprung awake suddenly, and with one hand swiftly grabbed Allistar by the front of his jerkin, and in the other produced a dagger lightly shoving the tip into Allistar’s throat.
“Thought you would rob me, you little fur-footed scum?” the rich man shouted.
“I am so sorry, muh...muh..m'lord. I stumbled! I was about to wake you and help you to the door!”, Allistar explained quickly. He felt the tip of the dagger breaking a little deeper through the skin of his neck.
“Please don’t hurt my son, m’lord! I am sure this is an honest misunderstanding!” Brundle pleaded as he and his wife ran from behind the bar.
“I should turn you over to the Regent’s guard! Or The Knights of the Cudgel mayhap be more fitting!” Gilliam roared. “There is a den of thieves hiding in the Halfling’s Gem!”
Protests and pleading were heard from the Halfling family, and Gilliam continued.
“I shant report you to the guardsmen, and I shall walk away and forget this transgression happened, but in return I seek you to do something to repay me for my kindness.” The merchant loosened his grip on Allistar’s shirt and withdrew the dagger from his throat, but still kept it in his right hand.
“What does m’lord ask of us?” Brundle asked.
“I know of you Brundle Goodbarrel. You may have kept your exploits as a thief and burglar secret upon moving to Arindel. But I know of them, thief. I wish something procured for me. There is a home to a minor lord, a large manor does he dwell in. I need you to perform your skulkery and skullduggery and steal for me a deed to piece of land he keeps in a safe hidden within the walls of his house. You may keep everything else you find in the safe, but the deed of property is to be returned to me.”
Brundle knew there was no sense in denying his identity, in fact there was no small feeling of pride that he was recognized. “M’lord, I am retired from my burglaring ways for many years. I am too old and out of practice. I would be caught for sures. Too long has it been since I have scaled a wall and cracked a lock. Your request would quickly turn to folly.”
“A pity,” replied Gilliam. “The man has only a few sellswords he uses as guards, and only one houseman he keeps as staff. He is always home, however. So stealth and silence would be paramount. Well, if you are no longer capable of even the most simple of jobs, then I shall alert the authorities of what just transpired here.”
“I’ll do it!” Allistar spoke up. His father protested, but Allistar replied. “My...my...my..my father has taught me...me...me his ways and taught me well. I will steal this document for you, sirs. But if I do this…" Allistar would stutter his words with "m's" when he was excited or frightened. RIght now, he was both.
“I will leave you and your family alone, young Halfling, and forget this night ever happened,” the nobleman replied.
The next clear night Allistar embarked on his first burglary. He was given the room in which the safe was located by Gilliam. He had snuck into the house quietly, past the guard and went to the room in which laid the safe. He picked the lock, the door opened. Before he could stuff the contents of the safe into his sack, he heard a loud but mysterious sound. Something he never heard before. A loud wooshing sound, as if the air was being sucked out of the room. Instinctively, he rushed toward the window in the safe room, and that instinct might have saved his life. Following the sound there was a loud ball of fire, an explosion. The force of it threw him through the window and he fell the two stories to the ground below.
Allistar was covered in light burns and soot, and he broke his leg and likely a few ribs as well as his side and chest burned with pain. People quickly came to their now open doors, and began yelling for the regent’s guard as the house was ablaze, the entire top story of the small mansion turned to burning rubble. Allistar began to hobble away from the scene of the crime, but he was spotted. He tried to stick to the shadows and quicken his pace, but the flames from the house provided too much light and the cries of, “Look! Someone is running away!” and “Aye! A Halfling!” echoed within his ears.
His mission a failure, he stayed away from his family’s business and home for a couple of days and tried his best to bind his wounds and clean up. He slept in alleyways and under window eaves. Even stealing children’s clothes drying on a line to replace the tattered rags he wore. When we made his way, sneaking back to the Halfling’s Gem, he was greeted by his father.
“Son, the Knights of the Cudgel had come here inquiring about the robbery. The noble living there was killed in the explosion. The throne is calling this an assassination, and you have been identified as the assassin!”
“But…father…I did nothing of the sort! I only did as that slimy Gilliam Velley instructed!” Allistar was beginning to see this was not going to end simply or cleanly.
“I know son. A killer in cold blood you are not. The Knights are claiming you had delivered a bomb inside the noble house. They are seeking you for questioning, should they catch you, your interrogation by the Cudgel’s inquisitors will be quite lengthy and painful.” Brindle’s voice began to quiver at the thought of a cleric of Saint Cuthbert, the god of justice and retribution, torturing his son. “I told them you left that night and you had not told me where you were going or what you were to be up to. And since you haven’t returned for a couple of days, that you must have fled the city.”
“Father, we will tell them the truth! We will tell them about Gilliam Velley! I will confess to the burglary but not the assassination!” Allistar began to feel the desperation emanating from his father.
“My boy, I did some checking. Talked to some old contacts. There is no such nobleman as Gilliam Velley. Your story will ring false. You have been made the scapegoat of this assassination. You will be tried for the murder of a lord, and be hanged. You must leave Arindel, Allistar. They will be forever watching the Gem now, and looking for you to return.”
“Father, where will I go? I know nothing outside of Arindel. Should I seek refuge with distant family at the Thimblebark Forest?”
“No boy. The Cudgle’s knights will track you like hounds on a scent. They will hunt you and not quit. The murder of a noble is considered a heinous crime by the throne. You will leave Arindel tonight. Head northeast. To a city called Oathheath. It is the eastern most city in Galador. Once a trading post for lands to the east, but now the city is rumored to have fallen into villainy. You will hide there as no one will notice another ne’er do well walking their city streets. There is even a thieves guild there you could possibly take up with.”
“All right father. It seems if I stay I shall endanger you, muh..muh..mother, and mar...mar..Margeet. I shall do as you ask.” Tears began forming in Allistar’s eyes as the thought of leaving his home and his family saddened him, and filled him with fear, greatly.
“And I shall seek information to clear your name. I still have some old contacts from my adventuring days I can talk with, reach out to those in the underworld here in Arindel. But that will take much time, my son. That is why for your own safety, you must travel east."
Allistar swiftly said his goodbyes and left the capital of Galador under the cover of night. On foot he headed east towards the city of Oathheath. For a month he traveled, hitching rides with caravans and merchant wagons as he could, traveling by foot when he couldn’t. He gave false names, and did his best to move in a clandestine manner. Eventually his travel brought him to a town named Fairhill. While sleeping in a farmer’s stable just outside the village, Allistar was awakened by ringing of an alarm bell. Fearing he might have been discovered, he looked towards the village to see the night sky glow as if something were on fire.
After helping extinguish the fire, Allistar, now calling himself "Star," mingled among the townsfolk and was greeted with thanks for his assistance. It was the next morning when he would meet the three people that would set him on a path of adventure...
...to be continued...Physical Description
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