PCs:Fletcher Millstone
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Fletcher Millstone, the self-styled "Man of Opportunity", is a human male who hails from the town of Southill and later Blandenberg. He can often be found traveling the roads of Southern Avlis, looking for "Opportunities" (as he calls them). He learned some of his stealth skills under the watchful eye of someone he refers to affectionately as "The Old Man", now deceased, and later with the help of a halfling Shadowdancer named Findle Flamestick, who he met in Ferrell.
Fletcher is quick with a sarcastic quip, or a flattering comment, but beneath the talk lies a sense of insecurity regarding how people feel about him, something that shows when pressed further regarding something he has said garners a reaction from those around him. Also, he tends to force many situations into a business point of view, in order to keep himself from getting emotionally involved or attached. His time spent in the Spiritland among the inhabitants there has begun to soften this viewpoint, and he has found himself reaching out more to help those in need.
The Story Begins
Fletcher Jayden Millstone was born the youngest of 6 children in the town of Southill, M'Chek. Named for his grandfather on his mother's side, Fletcher Jayden (a bard of some limited fame within the local taverns), his youngest days were spent following his 3 older brothers around the town, or being a royal pain to his 2 older sisters. For the most part, he grew up with a normal childhood full of scraped knees and being grounded for not doing his chores.
All of this changed when the trouble came to Southill.
Flight to the Protectorate
The rumors of demons, and mysterious shards had been circulating around the taverns for some time. Fletcher, by this time a young man in his mid-teens, would hear the stories of foul things breaking through defenses in search of the mysterious shards, and the people who dedicated themselves to stopping them. The latest reports had placed the activity closer to the south, with many random appearances occurring in the major cities and towns. Still, Southill went on as always. They had survived terrible things, the Verossan storm of poison that killed so many... surely the worst had happened to them.
The day the demon hordes struck, it was as though someone had stomped on an anthill. Fletcher rushed about trying to find his siblings, now married with their own families, and get the word out to leave immediately. Packing what they could on their backs, and loading his aged grandfather into a pushcart, the family fled the terror and wanton destruction, following the chaotic flow of people northwards... to the Protectorate of Blandenberg.
The Millstone family reunited near the hospital, and to their dismay they were not complete. Fletcher's second oldest brother, Colin, had fallen while defending the town alongside the guard. His sister Selenah was a widow, her husband Harold torn to pieces just outside of their home. She refused to eat for days, and seemed to waste away before their eyes. The local clergy could do little for her, and the day came when she finally passed on. Fletcher couldn't say for sure what it was that took her life, but he knew he'd never forget the look of utter horror on her face that never seemed to fade.
Man of Opportunity?
While his family was sheltered in Blandenberg, Fletcher wandered around M'chek and eventually fell in with some of the other displaced M'chekians who had fled the demon scourge. In doing so, he met Ulon Gladdenforth who was anxious for an opportunity to change his present situation. The two young men would often hang around in the taverns looking for day to day work, and possibly a bigger catch. Their chance came when they overheard a couple of men discussing someone they called "The Old Man". Apparently, they weren't happy with their cut from some of their acquisitions, and were looking to "get even" by robbing him as he brought the evening's gold and gems home to his safe. As Fletcher strained to hear over the bustle of the gathering afternoon crowd, he heard "...closes shop at sundown..." , "takes the western forest road into T'Nanshi", and "...always alone". His eyes caught a glimpse of a small map as one of the two thugs seemed to point to a getaway route.
Ulon and Fletcher hatched their own plan, while observing the other two men. They would simply slip out, hide along the road, and wait for the robbery to go down. Then, they would ambush the would-be robbers and make off with the loot. Fletcher argued that if they returned the loot, they could be rewarded and it would open up more opportunities for work with the other merchants, and improve their standing in the area. Ulon was adamant that to do so was a fool's errand, and that the angry merchant may accuse them of being involved in the theft. After some further hushed argument, Fletcher grudgingly accepted Ulon's logic as the more likely outcome. The two then finished their drinks and made their way out of the tavern as inconspicuously as possible.
Sundown came, and Ulon and Fletcher each crouched on a tree branch watching as the night time shadows began to creep in, making it more difficult to see. Just then, they heard the sound of quickly moving feet and some yelling that sounded like an elderly voice, followed by an incoherent yell and more running in their direction. The two thugs came high tailing it down the road as fast as they could. With nobody following the robbers, it was a simple ambush to take them down. The two friends leapt from the tree, each tackling one of the thugs, and with a few quick moves, knocking them senseless for the moment. Ulon quickly patted them down and held up a satchel with a grin as he and Fletcher prepared to run.
In an instant, the satchel was gone from his hands, and an elderly human in a fine cloak appeared seemingly out of nowhere, as though from the shadows themselves, but Fletcher thought to himself that it had to be a trick of the forest and the moonlight flickering through the branches. The satchel was in the old man's hand, and he hoisted it around his shoulder before drawing 2 wicked looking Kukris from his belt. "Surely you were going to find me and return this, but you were pointed in the wrong direction, aye?" the old man said with a smirk. Given the circumstances, Ulon and Fletcher nodded in silent agreement, with Fletcher shooting an "I told you so" glare at his friend. "Come then, let us be on our way...I know a shortcut..." and the old man moved quickly, seemingly flitting from tree to tree as the two younger friends attempted to keep up with him...
The Lessons Learned
A year passed, and by this time Ulon and Fletcher had long been working for "The Old Man", known commonly as Keevan Dawntracker. He ran a small shop, selling "this and that", but his true business was as a fence and acquirer of rare items for the right price, always in gold or gems. This required a lot of legwork, and as he was now short his two employees, he decided to take the two under his wing. Ulon had settled right into his role as one of Keevan's apprentices, while Fletcher served as the other. While the fencing business did not exactly sit well with Fletcher at first, he asked his mentor how he felt about selling goods stolen from people. The reply was a simple one "...and whose backs do you think they stood on to get those items and gold? All people rob someone in one way or another..."
During their stay, Keevan often took the two aside and trained the both of them in stealth, precision, and business sense. He seemed to see great potential in the both of them, and always said that he had high hopes for their future in the business. While Ulon was easily the better in combat, Fletcher had a cooler head for tactics and thus was Keevan's go-to guy when a deal required some thinking. Ulon, on the other hand, was a bit brash in his dealings and had roughed up a few people along the way, much to the chagrin of Fletcher. His hotheaded friend had caused tavern fights on more than one occasion as well.
A Gift, A Trophy, An Inheritence
Finally the day came where during a meeting, Keevan called the both of them to him. He was retiring, and wanted the two close friends to take over the business as equal partners, but with Fletcher as the face of the business. Ulon looked surprised, and a bit hurt. "Fletcher has a better head for this, Ulon, but your usefulness is just as needed in other areas..." Much to their amazement, he then laid out his two prized kukris on the table in front of each of them, each one engraved with one of his students' initials. Keevan had very few possessions, preferring to stick to gold and gems. "Easier to carry, easier to hide, and nobody remembers whose gold piece it was!" he always had said. Now he was passing on two of those few possessions to his business heirs.
Fletcher took the kukri that was designated as his, the one that Keevan had always used in his better hand, while Ulon received the off-hand kukri. As Fletcher admired the blade's sharpness he heard a muffled cry, and looked up to see Ulon just finish burying the kukri into Keevan's chest in front of him. "He always liked you better..." Ulon muttered before turning quickly to strike at a horrified Fletcher. While Ulon was more powerful, Fletcher had always been the more nimble of the two, and sidestepped the attack before swinging the small blade defensively, cutting across his friend's eyes and blinding him as the blood spurted forth. Ulon swung wildly and was slashed across hard the the hand, cutting his thumb off and causing him to drop his weapon as Fletcher slashed him yet again across of the back of the leg, leaving him to stumble as his hamstring was severed. Fletcher shoved him aside, and ran to their now deceased mentor, Ulon crawled and stumbled his way to the door, staggering headlong into the forest, not to be seen again...
...and Fletcher quietly cleaned up the home of his mentor, sheathed both Kukris, gathered what gold he found, and prepared a funeral pyre in the home, breaking down furniture and dousing the place with oil. He then wrapped his master's cloak about his shoulders, locked the door behind him, and stood outside of the house holding a torch in his hand. "You were right" he thought to himself "everyone robs someone of something, sometime, in one way or another".
Fletcher tossed the torch through the window and hurried away as the house burned.