About QuartleQuartle
Granted Powers: You are a powerful persuader. A honeyed tongue empowered by divine argumentation sways the indifferent and adversarial to your side.
It wasn’t the situation envisioned by his mother for the birth of the family’s first children, but nature had spoken its piece and the twin eggs, a rarity among the tribe left little doubt that the gods smiled upon the birth, whatever the circumstance. Reluctantly, the young mother secured the melon-sized eggs for the journey. Far south, the boggards continued their advance until the first days of Neth when all communication from their home ceased, just as it became clear from the movement of the eggs that the hatchlings would soon arrive. On the 12th of Neth, just before noon, under the sign of the Star Gazer, the first egg cracked and a girl hatchling crawled forth. Moments later, exactly at noon, a tiny webbed hand punched through the second egg accompanied by an even louder crash as every glass bottle and beaker in the incubation hospital shattered. Quartle crawled forth from the remains of the egg, his skin rougher and more tanned than the brilliant green of his sister. The young family struggled with the sudden loss of their entire tribe. With no tribe to speak for any longer, Quartle’s father was fortunate to scrounge enough of the tribe’s remaining wealth to purchase a tavern perched in an old mangrove tree overhanging the river. Quartle’s mother quickly emerged as the brains of the business, clever at business and cooking alike while her husband kvetched about the politics of the boggard wars as the northern grippli population finally began to organize a defense. In spite of the troubles, a second son was born into the family three years later. For an all too short year, it looked like the family would find its footing. That all would be well. And then the plague struck. In hindsight it was obvious. Azoth Ghul had called on his foul patron Gogunta to unleash disease on the Black Jewel tribe. It swept through the community like wildfire through dry brush leaving broken families in its wake. Four-year old Quartle caught the plague and nearly became one of many young victims before fighting it off. His mother wasn’t so lucky. The latest loss hit the family hard. Quartle’s father didn’t really understand the ins and outs of running a tavern and business suffered though things rebounded as the tavern became a rallying point for the more aggressive viewpoint that the gripplis should take the fight to the boggards and break them. Quartle’s father became the sole caregiver for the three children, but it would be a stretch to call it care. His cares were for the war and the children were largely left to fend for themselves. His father’s views were far from universally popular among the Black Jewel tribe and enemies spread unkind rumors. One in particular hit particularly close to home - accusations that he was a secret worshipper of Dagon, a heresy only second to worshipping Gogunta herself among the grippli. It was made all the more troubling by the fact that years earlier a traveling seer had foretold that he would be imprisoned for 20 years for heresy before being found innocent and freed. The plague that killed his mother wasn’t the last. That success emboldened the boggards and others followed. Infected soldiers were released home in prisoner exchanges. Boggard spies slipped into communities and sowed disease in water supplies. Yet curiously Quartle never came down sick again. Not even runny eyes or dry skin. He didn’t know it, but his exposure to and survival of Gogunta’s plague made him immune to all disease. As Quartle grew older, his interests expanded. Perhaps it was the tales of the priest-king Azoth Ghul and Gogunta, but at six he began taking an interest in creatures spawned on other planes. He read voraciously and in rare moments of paternal interest, his father provided him with more books to read. He first became aware of gods beyond the small pantheon worshipped by the gripplis and thrilled to tales of Besmara’s daring raids, particularly a fanciful one in which she outsmarts Dagon and Gogunta to seize treasure from the demon lords and capturing one of Dagon’s sea monsters as a new servitor before escaping back to the Maelstrom. He learned more of his father’s earlier work as a diplomat and his father taught him of the importance of understanding and respecting other cultures. He learned to pay attention to things he took for granted and acquired a knack for an intuitive sense of manners - what was right and wrong in a given situation. A year later at seven, the interest in books led to a passion for writing and for a time, Quartle took up calligraphy. He even tried illustrating some of his works, but found that he had a better gift for the art of letters than the pictures that accompanied them. Some of the tales took fanciful twists and Quartle developed a sense of humor and storytelling that would grow darker and drier as the years advanced. The attention from his father didn’t last. The old man went back to his politicking and attempts to influence the war and an older Quartle began spending more time around the docks and other unsavory parts of town. While grippli were the most populous race in the tree-towns, they were by no means alone and for the first time, Quartle spent extensive time in and among other races. Many of Quartle’s best memories go back to those rough and tumble years between the ages of nine and eleven. Quartle found himself running with a mixed group of grippli, kobolds and goblins, one of whom bore the unusual monicker Julian Binetti. The red-headed goblin was most unusual among his kind, but so was Quartle and the two hit it off right away. Julian seemed to suffer from some sort of amnesia related to his time before he came to the tree-town, but his quick wits and charisma made him the mastermind of the small gang. Quartle gravitated toward a second story role. He learned to pick locks and honed a natural talent for disappearing from sight. There were several sailors in the gang and more than one was always sure to drop a few coins in the river for Besmara after a successful heist. Quartle remembered his love of tales of the Pirate Queen from a few years earlier and found himself joining them. The goddesses practical outlook appealed to him. However, after a couple years of fruitful thieving and cons, things began to dry up. The boggard forces were closing in and the grippli military presence in town pushed out the merchants and middle class. War was coming. So was conscription. A theft gone wrong landed most of the gang in trouble and with the need for more soldiers, Quartle found himself drafted into the grippli forces. His father had never been so proud. Finally, the gripplis were taking the fight to the boggards and his son would be in the lead forces. On the day Quartle graduated from training, his father was there to present him with a fine grippli fighting net that has once been given to him by one of the soldiers who frequented the tavern. Quartle would learn to put it to great use against both the boggards and in a far off land in the future. His talent for stealth and disarming traps made him a natural fit for the grippli scouts. A new commander was experimenting with deploying scouts rapidly into locations by having them dragged on water skis behind giant water striders. Quartle found it to be a strange tactic, but learned the new skill regardless. Still it sowed skepticism of the grippli leadership in the young warrior and Quartle found that his loyalty hardened behind the Pirate Queen and comradery with his brothers-in-arms more than any great love for the grippli leadership. In the years that followed, it became clear that the grippli were doomed. Quartle and his fellow scouts put up fierce guerrilla resistance, When you turned Age 17, an evil despotic ruler orders all persons of your gender, birth and approximate age put to death. (Maybe the same time your father is imprisoned?) As far as you know you were the only one to survive. However it was many years before you could escape through a portal to arrive in Eleder where this adventure begins. This brings out your aggressiveness (since having to be so cautious for those couple years apparently) You escaped with an heirloom weapon that your father owned, a grippli fighting net given to him by one of the soldiers who frequented the tavern. Here in Eleder you are known this unusual weapon. Fighting in the arena. Sea monsters like reefclaws. Does he only fight in the arena? Temple? Today, Quartle was up early at Besmara’s temple, preparing for another fight at the arena when the messenger arrived with the letter. "Greetings, and I trust this missive finds you in good health! My name is Lavinia Vanderboren, and I humbly request your attendance at dinner at my estate on Festival Street and Blue Skink Lane tomorrow evening. I think I can present you with an opportunity uniquely suited to your skills. Please inform the carrier of this letter of your response to this invitation, and I hope to be speaking to you soon!"
The name is a familiar one. One of the Eleder noble colonial families. Wealthy. A very intriguing patron or one to steal from later if things didn’t work out. Quartle nods his agreement and replies, ”You can tell Lady Vanderboren that I will be there. Am I dressing for dinner or a more immediate use of my skills?” |
