Shawn

Shawn was a half-elf bard with extreme multiple personality disorder and a member of The Magic Men. He was born on the plane of Tythnet in one of the few normal communities on that magical world.

Shawn has struggled with his multiple personalities all of his life, but their chaotic presence grew worse as he got older. Many years after his time with The Magic Men, the bard sought out solitude in the plane of Mechanus. It was there that he began his reign of terror over the Leatherverse as the new Primus, with the help of many machines and the form of Adumblus. In an epic final battle, Shawn and his forces were destroyed by both The Furry Force and The Little Guys, and the bard himself was slowly beaten to death by famed ranger Valen Bosmer.

## Backstory

“So what’d you say you wanted to know?”

“Everything, Shawn. Where were you born? How did you become… all you of you?”

Shawn swallowed and leaned back, relaxed in his chair, running his fingers through his chestnut curls.

“I warn you… if they take over, don’t try to draw me back out. They may not be too pleased with all this.”

The woman redied her journal, scribbling onto a page.

“Noted.”

Shawn took a deep breath and began to speak.

“I was born 26 years ago on a small poultry farm 10 miles from nowhere. My human father came from a long line of farmers who’d passed down the property from generation to generation. He was a large man who loved the drink almost as much as he loved his land. He had never married, but an elven farmhand who he’d fancied became my mother.

Finding out that I was his, he began to raise me in secret, ashamed of my mixed blood. At the age of five I was worked just as hard as any other worker if not harder as he tried to prepare me to eventually inherit the farm. Even with the work, I was a frail and weak child, and my father hated it.

It was around the age of seven when a group of adventurers visited the farm and I realised my calling; music. While the others talked with my father, a bard began to strum a lute, playing a beautiful tune that I had never even imagined possible. Noticing my interest, she let me strum a few cords. From that day I was hooked. I crafted my first lute using pig intestines and scrap wood, and I taught myself to play.”

Shawn paused and chuckled, pulling a small, charred piece of wood from his pocket.

“So you’d say besides the work, you had a fairly good childhood?”

He look up solumbly.

“Things took a turn for the worse.”

Shawn put away the shard and continued.

“It was early morning… 3… 4 A.M. I was strumming my lute, carefully as to not wake up my father, when he burst into my room, drink in hand. He stared at the lute in shock and horror almost as if I were holding a corpse.”

Where the hell did you get that?

“He growled ripping it away from me. I told him that I made it, and I wanted to be a musician and not a farmer. The way he looked at me… the remorse and anger in his eyes… I can never unsee that.”

You want to be a bard?! That’s a womans work!”

He began to stomp down the stairs as I raced after him. Holding the instrument, he threw it into the open fireplace, splashing his drink upon the lute... It erupted into flames instantly.

Crying, I reached in to save it, but the wood had already crumbled, and I only recovered a single, scorched shard.

Father took a large gulp of his drink.”

You want to do a woman’s job? I’ll make you a woman.

“He dragged me back up the stairs to his room and abused me in ways a father should never abuse his son. And that wasn’t the only night. For weeks his did this, punishing me for doing what I loved to do. I… I....”

Shawn began to shake violently, gripping the sides of his chair, and all of a sudden, he was still. Now he sat up straight, parting his hair clearing his throat.

“Oh honey… why in gods name would you force him to bring this up? You know how fragile he is.”

“Shawniqua, is it?”

“Baby you have just opened the floodgates.”

“Is there any chance you could continue with your story?”

Shawniqua rolled his eyes, rubbing his hands together and sending four small spheres of light to the four corners of the room.

“Sorry, it was a little dark in here. You KNOW I hate the dark.”

She stared at him impatiently.

“FINE I’ll continue!”

Drawing a flute from his coat he began to tinker.

“During that time, I kept Shawn sane. When that bad brute came for him, I took over and protected him. He really doesn’t remember most of the incidents. But I do. I remember every single one.

Anyways, I convinced Shawn not to give up music, and instead to simply change how he did it. I made whittled him a flute. It was small and easy to conceal, easier that that mumbo jumbo lute. But I could still tell he missed that instrument. He kept that DISGUSTING wood fragment even to this DAY!

Soon I just became so fed up with that hideous man, so Shawn and I ran away into the woods. I took the reins for a while, leading him through wilderness and eventually to a small logging town near a city. A young couple found us starving and vulnerable, so they raised us as their own children, and I worked as a carpenter.

I don’t think they ever met Shawn. He was still recovering, and only revealed himself in private, where he would gather supplies for another lute.

It was also around this time they put me in school to get a REAL education. It was then were I began to realise the limits of my protection over him. Those ASSHOLE BOYS BEGAN TO MAKE FUN OF US! ALL BECAUSE OF ME!”

Shawniqua slammed his fist on the table, standing and beginning to pace back and forth.

“They hated my voice, the way I moved. They would attack us… beat us. We knew to fit in, and in that moment, I remembered my father. I knew I had to… had to become stronger than them...”

Shawniqua fell to the ground and sank his nails into the floorboards. In a painstaken cry, his interviewer could hear his yelling getting deeper. The lights in the room flickered and faded away. Taking a deep breath, he stood up eased, spitting into his hand and slicking back his hair. Grabbing the chair in front of him, he spun it around and sat in it with its back at his stomach.

“No matter what that bitch says about me, I kept Shawn safe.”

The interview looked up from her notes.

“Greetings Calf.”

Calf grunted stroked his hair.

“One day it was like clockwork. I became one of them. They tried to pick fights with me, so I started fights with them. Now, I love the thrill of combat.

Either way, my love of music persisted. I took a drum from a boy at school and claimed it as my own.

My newfound parents immediately took notice of my change. They tried to cope with it, but it must has become too much for their wee minds to understand. When I graduated primary school, they couldn’t take it anymore and threw me out by myself.

I was so furious, broke back into my home. I shattered windows and had broken down the door when the local magistrate and his goons grabbed me and threw me in a jail cell.

That’s when the conflict started. That bitch Shawniqua began to birage me with blame. She claimed that I was the reason we were here. That I caused our parents to disown us. I just yelled back. I think that’s what made Shawn break. The poor little elf. That stupid whore tore us all apart!

Shawn began to shut down… He started to become someone new, and soon… the three of us fell silent as someone began to shut us up…”

Calf stands up and backs into the corner. Shaking his hand and pulling at his hair. Then, he goes down, squatting on the floor.

“Meek needs to tell you no more,” he whispers, pulling his jacket tighter around him. He walked to the windows, peeking out for any possible exits.

The woman put down her pad.

“No Meek, you were just telling me your story. How did you get out of prison? Where did you learn your magic?”

“The more you know about Meek, the less secure Meek feels. Leave Meek alone.”

She stood up, carefully walking over to him hand outstretched.

“Meek can I please just speak to Shawn? Shawn are you there?”

Meek looked at her crazily.

“Meek will protect Shawn. He is protected by Meek!”

Meek rushed her, knocking her to the ground and breaking through a window, running into the night.

Standing up, she looked outside, seeing no Meek, and no tracks.

“Damn it.”