Rhys Tamm's page

Born into the streest of Rostock, Rhys doesn't remember anything of his parents, his earlies recollection was of the collection of street-mothers that shared the neighborhood urchins. Running wild for his childhood up to around age 10, Rhys lived by his wits and quickness, staying alive where many more succumbed to the dangers of the dark alleys of Rostock's slums.

Even as a young boy, Rhys and the others in the slums knew of men in the dark, who passed in the night; dangerous men. One night Rhys saw one of these men pass by his current hiding spot, and with the bravery of the very young, followed. At least 30 minutes passed, Rhys sliding from shadow to shadow as the man walked calmly through one of the most dangerous neighborhoods in the city. Then as Rhys cautiously followed the man into a dark alley, he felt cold steet at his throat and a silky voice spoke quietly in his ear, "You've done well, boy. I didn't notice you following me until a few minutes ago. How long have you been following ?" "A little past first bell" Rhys whispered. Rhys felt the man nod, then the dagger was taken away.

"Come into the light so I can see you better." the man said in a tone that brooked no discussion. Tentatively, Rhys stepped out of the alley into the light of the nearby street lamp.

"You're not much to look at." the man said. He was dressed darkly , hood drawn low to obscure his face, but Rhys could see a tight-lipped mouch, a few days of stubble on the chin. "But, you've nerve... and some raw ability. " the man said, rubbing his chin.

Then he nodded, having made a decision. "I'm going to lead you a merry chase. If you can follow me to my destination, you'll become my apprentice. If you cannot, you'll never see me again. Agreed?" the man said, not even waiting for an answer before he was off. Down dark alleys and across deserted courtyards, even up onto the rooftops, the man dashed and jumped....and Rhys stayed with him, breathing hard, all of his intent and concentration on staying with the man, knowing that this was his one chance to get out of the slums.

Running out of a narrow alley, Rhys skidded to a halt as he saw the man, sitting beside an old well, peeling an apple with his dagger. A quick slice and the man held out the piece of apple to Rhys. Tentatively, Rhys reached out and gobbled down the fruit, almost groaning at the sweetness and juiciness of the apple.

"Well, done." the man said and began to walk away, crunching down on the crispy apple. Chewing quickly, Rhys hopped to catch up, glancing sideways at the man. "My name is Galen Holl, " the man said, looking sideway at Rhys, "what's your's"

And so began Rhys' journey out of the slums and into a better life. The next 6 years was on of study and exercise, both of the body and mind. Galen taught Rhys to read, and read he did, History, Religion, the Esoterics of Magic, the Natural world. Galen explained that the organization he worked, he called them The Brethern, with didn't want killers they wanted men who could think. Sword and bow was taught , as well as the most important skill: how to see; observing that which most didn't see, the details that mattered.

Finally, when Rhys thought he was around 18, Galen seemed satisfied with his work. He'd left Rostock many times, leaving Rhys with his studies in Galen's apartment, now he said, "I'm leaving Rostock, on a journey of many years. You will travel north and aid the Brethren there; delivering messages between the Duchies and keeping an eye out for... anything interesting. You'll contact the Smith, Astavan in Blackburn, he'll give you further instuctions."

And with that, Galen was gone. Not one to dwell on the turnings of life, Rhys arranged to travel with a departing caravan and departed his home for the first time. Arriving some weeks later, he sought out Astavan, gave the code word and began his duties for the Brethren. Travelling between the Duchies, Rhys delivered messages to between the Brethrens various members, and using the skills taught him by Galen, occasionally passing on a tidbit of information he'd gleaned.

And so he found himself in Jameson's Crossing, waiting for the damned ferry to be repaired.