by Kerem Beyit
Lynd is the Unseen One. He is the shadows. Stories of his order are secretly whispered around hearths and around campfires. The records account for very little in respect to Lynds current ventures, but what is one to expect from the obscure nature of his profession. Lynd is a half-breed. Born the bastard son of a high elf noble from the gleaming city of Thindir, and a human mother from the wellborn house Bhorlan. It was naturally an impossible affair with bleak prospects, and to have any chance of retaining their honour, they left Lynd to a human orphanage at birth. Lynd, born both out of wedlock, and being the half-blood that he was, was singled out by his fellow humanlings early on. However, due to his extraordinary senses, elvish agility and strength, he could easily fend off any assailants. And all who antagonised him soon regretted their decision. When not bullied by the other children, he enjoyed keeping to himself, and used his time to read and work with his hands. He was inventive, and soon learned to set traps for the rodents and rats. He also took much delight and joy in hiding and sneaking. As soon as Lynd was of age, he resolutely left the Orphanage to pursue his own destiny. Alas, the opportunities for his kind are few and rare. He strayed for a long time in his early adolescence, moving between towns and villages, surviving by begging on the streets, pickpocketing villagers and looting the goods of unsuspecting merchants. His skills of moving unseen and silently came much in handy whenever his intentions and presence was questioned. One morning in the town square, he saw a tradesman dressed from head to toe in black velvet. He was a very tall and slender man, and swayed a little with every step. The man wore a small silver brocade satchel on his belt, a satchel that looked heavy and filled to the brim. He seemed preoccupied in his argument with a merchant of fine silk, and would pay no heed to a young boy’s nimble fingers. Lynd approached the man slowly, like countless times before, moving between the shadows, hiding in the crowds and blending in with the surroundings. No one took any notice of him as he moved across the square, silently yet purposeful. When he was but one pace from the velvet man, who had his back towards him, Lynd made a little strut; grazed past the man and made a swift movement towards the satchel. Suddenly, he twitched and was pulled to an abrupt standstill. He felt a scrawny hand grasping his wrist tightly. The man with the satchel turned around and lowered his head from its towering whereabouts. He whispered in Lynd‘s ear with a hoarse and almost trembling voice:
-“How inept. The Tavern at noontide. Be there”.
He let go of Lynd’s arm, swivelled him around and ushered him away. When Lynd turned his head, the man was gone, and he clasped a golden coin in his hand. Perplexed by the event that had just transpired, he put the coin in his pocket, caught his breath, and hurriedly made his way to the tavern. Albeit wary of what could be in store, and deeply suspicious of most humans, Lynd‘s curiosity could not keep him from investigating the peculiar man and his intentions. Especially a man who was faster than a serpent and could scatter riches like grains of rice. Lynd snuck into the tavern through his secret entrance, and sat down silently in a dark corner, waiting patiently. At noon, the velvet man was nowhere to be found. Lynds spirit sank, and he was just about to abandon his post, when a crooked, limping figure, dressed in old dirty rags approached him. The same hoarse voice that he had heard earlier in the day told Lynd to follow him. And so he did. He was led into the storage room below the Tavern, where the limping figure pulled on a lever on the wall. The lid of one of the giant wine barrels opened, and revealed a secret chamber, filled from floor to ceiling with commodities, riches, weapons, clothes and parchments. The man told Lynd to enter,
and that he had nothing to fear. Lynd grasped the small dagger in his pocket firmly, and stepped into the room.
-“Now, Lynd”. Said the man -“Do you wish to commence your training?”.
The man with the croaky voice turned out to be none less than the master mouth and ear of many a clandestine factions throughout the seven kingdoms. And he bestowed Lynd with an opportunity. He found his purpose and his destiny. He spent the following years perfecting his skills at the Thieves Guild as well as the Assassins Guild. Over time, he transformed from a troubled boy seeking refuge in the shadows, to becoming the shadows themselves. He soon began operating on his own, trading both secrets and lives. He became a legendary vindicator, and a revered grandmaster. These days, he wishes not to be found, and thusly, is not.
