The sound of water dripping onto the stone floor was the first thing Dalen heard. Looking up, he tried to make out his surroundings. The lighting was dim from the tiny barred window as the moon filtered through. The room was small, with just barely enough to room to move around. As Dalen tried to stand he realized there was a chain attached to his ankle and bolted to the floor, allowing him enough room to move through the room but nothing else. He squinted into the darkness, trying to decipher where he was. There was a wooden table and chair in one corner, near the window. Just to the right of him was a small cot and a straw mattress. Directly across from him he was able to make out the door, standard heavy wood, with many obvious heavy bolts. The real story though, is not where Dalen ended up, but how he got there.
Dalen always had a knack for thievery. As one of the many war orphans in Atillys, he had to learn early on how to fend for himself. He only got better as he grew into a handsome young man. That was when he went from just being a typical pickpocket into a conman as well. He knew how to use his charms to obtain all sorts of favors as well as wooing women out of their gold or tricking noblemen. The day the troubles started was the day he met Veris.
Veris Traalmoor was the daughter of one of the richest merchants and Dalen had waited for quite some time to con her. She usually had a bodyguard or two around her but that day she was oddly alone. Dalen followed her a bit to one of the quieter areas of the market. Positioning himself quickly, Dalen pretended to knock into Veris, catching her as she fell. As he helped her stand upright, he quickly slipped her bracelets from her wrist. When she stood and looked at him, Dalen suddenly found himself drawn into her deep eyes, as dark as rain clouds.
“My apologies fair lady. I guess the sun must have blinded me, or maybe it was your pure beauty.” Dalen smiled brightly, his teeth sparkling in the sun. Veris stared intently at him for a moment. As she began to speak Dalen was caught off guard by her soft melodic voice. He mentally rebuked himself and set his mind back on his task.
“Well I’m sure it wasn’t my beauty. I am also sure many women have fallen for the same charm you are using on me. However I am running late, so if you’ll excuse me…” She turned to leave and as she did Dalen reached out and grabbed her wrist, sliding her other bracelets off.
“So is there no chance of us seeing each other again? I would enjoy spending some time with you. Maybe you could tell me what would impress a woman such as yourself.” Veris spun herself around to face him.
“You really think you could impress a woman as far out of your class as me? Sir, I highly doubt that. Now I really am late. Good Day.” She ripped her wrist from his hand and hurried through the streets. Dalen stared after her, slightly feeling ashamed for stealing from her. However he knew he could fetch a decent price for her trinkets and would be able to eat well for awhile. As he examined his bounty, He noticed an odd bauble on one of the bracelets. It was a dark red crystal with a silver lotus attached to it. It looked vaguely familiar. Dalen shrugged off the strange feeling he got from it, but pocketed it for himself anyways.
After selling off the others, Dalen walked around town for awhile. Sometimes he enjoyed watching the mothers as they played with their children. It would make him think of his own mother and the fun they used to have. Dalen was the son of a great commander in the Kings army. When the Great War came, his father was one of the one killed in the massacre at the hills of Fieriec. His mother was overcome with grief. Her once beautiful mahogany hair became dull, lifeless, and began to fall out. Their money went fast, just trying to survive. Dalen was just a small child of six at the time. His mother had no skills to speak of. Soon it ran out and they were destitute. Shortly after they were sent out from their home, his mother died. Some said a strange illness but Dalen always believed she died of a broken heart. He vowed he would never let himself fall in love, not just to protect himself from that kind of pain, but to protect the other person. Dalen sat on a bench near the fountain, watching a mother as she read to her son and daughter. The scene was simple and yet so magnificent.
Suddenly from behind, a large sack was placed over his head and Dalen felt himself being dragged off. He struggled but the attacker wrapped his large arms around Dalen, slightly squeezing air from his lungs. Dalen thrashed around, hoping to land a punch but his wrists were soon bound tightly. As his attacker tried to bind his ankles, Dalen kicked blindly, hitting his attacker hard in the stomach. His attacker let out an audible “oomph” and released his grip. Dalen quickly got up and ran trying to untie the sack on his head. Just as he finally removed the obstruction from his vision he looked forward and promptly ran full speed at a stone wall.
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