Ink The Guild Master

## Biography

Ink is the Guild Master of "The Adventurer's Guild" found in Leyn, and is a considerably skilled mechanic.

## Equipment

**Head:** None

**Neck:** Common clothing

**Back:** Common clothing

**Chest:** An iron-studded trim red leather longcoat

**Wrist 1:** None

**Wrist 2:** None

**Ring 1:** None

**Ring 2:** None

**Waist:** Common Clothing

**Legs:** Common Clothing

**Feet:** Common Clothing

## Backstory

1 Year Ago

With a skeptical expression, Darius stood with a finger lifted as if to ask for a moment before calmly backing through the doorway he had just entered and closing the burled walnut door in his wake.

Through the door, the entirety of those gathered within the room could hear a muffled, but quite alarmed, “WHAT!?”

Moments later, the door opened. Appearing a bit more composed, Darius re-entered the room and gave a gracious bow of his head before mustering his most sincere broad smile and calmly stating, “I’m sorry I seem to be in the midst of some sort of mental breakdown so you’ll have to say all that again…”

* 2 Days Prior -

“Alright, Bug. I’ve got my bag packed, I’ve got my hammer polished, and I’ve got rations for days. This is my first bounty off the board in the Commons, and it’ll pay enough for me to buy a brand new steel short sword right off the rack at the Crested Anvil and Tieran will stop getting on my case for testing the wares. It’s a cake walk! All I’ve gotta do is retrieve some glowshrooms from near that stretch on the east road where the bandits have been raiding caravans. If I sneak in through the forest though? Easy as pie. I’ll just grab a handful and that new sword will be mine,” he said as he gave his blacksmith hammer a little lofted toss into the air with a spin before catching it deftly by the handle.

* 1 Day Prior -

Panting, Darius threw his back to the small wooden shack the bandits had been guarding as the fire grew in the distance. The smoke crested the trees and the orange glow became visible through the darkness, right on the spot where he’d started it almost five minutes prior before sprinting from tree-to-tree and lying in wait. Once enough of them had been drawn of to investigate, he got himself low to the ground and crept along with meticulous care.

There he was. Whoever he was, he was young and looked like he’d been beaten senseless. By the time Darius reached the post the young man had been bound to, however, the reality sank in: He had a hammer. He had nothing to cut the boy loose with. Fingers sweating and almost immediately cramping up from effort, he set about trying to pinch and yank at the hempen rope binding the young boy to the post.

“....and this is why I need a short sword.”

The bandits were coming back. He could see their outlines in the darkness, framed by the glow of the small blaze he’d lit to lure them off. The ropes came clean just as the bandits came back into sight of the camp.

Running ensued…

* Back to that day… -

“As I was saying, young man, in thanks for your daring rescue of the crown Prince, you have but ask and your desires shall be made reality. The Queen is of the deepest gratitude but for obvious reasons would not like it widely known that the Prince was so simply waylaid while traveling abroad lest it become a... more frequent occurrence,” calmly stated the apparent dignitary. The man was slender with well-coiffed black hair and a neatly-trimmed peppered goatee. Seemingly to punctuate his offer, he drew out a parchment scroll and retrieved a quill from the desk nearby, dabbing at the inkwell sitting beside it before looking back to Darius with an expectant look.

“Look, uh.. Sir. I was just trying to help, I was out there to grab some glowshrooms so I could buy a sword and try my hand at the whole adventuring lifestyle…”

“I see,” the dignitary hemmed thoughtfully. “Then we shall have to compensate you for the lost bounty, yes?” He scribbled down something on the page and set about rolling it up. Helping himself to Darius’ purple wax, he dribbled a few drops to seal the parchment and then pressed his signet ring into the still-warm wax. With a short, sharp whistle a falcon flapped wildly as it arrived atop the window-sill. Receiving the rolled scroll, the falcon leapt back and took to the sky. The man then turned and gave a gracious bow, continuing: “Though this is nothing we will be able to reward you for publically, I believe you will find the royal family quite grateful. The Kingdom owes you a debt, and that debt will be paid.”

“Oh. Uhh. Alright, I guess?” Darius stood dumbfounded, nowhere near the realm of functioning coherently enough mentally to cobble-together a proper reply.

The dignitary simply smiled knowingly and bowed his head, moving to depart. Pausing in the doorway (ever so dramatically) he glanced back and added, “There are worse people to have in your debt, young man. Enjoy your life, I’m sure you will be pleased with how this plays out. We will meet again. Good day.”

… and two short weeks later, everything would change.