Wren

It was an accident, they happen every day. No one was at fault, it just happened. The bands holding the casks onto the overloaded wagon burst strewing them onto the cobblestone street. Underneath the casks lay the broken bodies of a Hin couple that newly arrived to Suzail. The crowds lifted the heavy casks away, but it was no help, all that was left that could be done is a prayer to the gods.

No one noticed the hunched figure walking away, in her hands a small child wrapped in swaddling.



Haddie Swan lived in the most destitute part of the city. Her home was little more than four mud walls with a roof of sticks and a sheet tin she was able to pinch from behind the nearby forge. A small pallet with a pile of moldy straw lay empty in the corner. Her children now buried a month still weighed heavy on her soul. She prayed to the gods to show her a reason she should live. She wanted to die, every waking moment.



Her prayers were answered with the crash of Sembia’s finest, the baby placed in her hands by Beshaba herself. Haddie took the baby from her mother, then by Bane’s might rolled the heavy cask on top of the little wretched Hin even as the crowd gathered to lift the casks away again. No one would notice the wound on the Halfling mum, or that she was not crushed at all.



Into the dismal life little baby Aniya was taken.



In her early years she was happy. Her “mother” often took her to see different parts of the city to meet people on the streets or in the back rooms of decrepid taverns. She would even play games to entertain those that were willing to pay a copper to watch. She didn’t know, she was just a child. As she grew older she didn’t want to play those games any more, so she was forced to pinch coins from drunks stumbling home after a night of spending coin in the seedy taverns.

She made good coin, enough to feed Mother Haddie and her friends.

Not far after her 14th year she was following her mark down the alley next to “The Rampant Ogre”. She was smooth, she was silent, the drunk stumbled and she made her move. Aniya never thought a man could move so fast. One second her hand was a finger length from his purse, the next his steel grip held her arm stretched above her head.

She was towed to the back of the alley where two other guild pinches waited.



She had to play the “games” of her childhood with the three. When she made it home, sore and beaten, she discovered they had also visited Mother Haddie. Aniya wouldn’t have to give her coin to Haddie any more.



Desperation placed her at the steps of the temple to Waukeen. After days of hiding and running, trying to lose the tail assigned to her, she was half starved. The priests would surely give her a meal. The chapel was nearly empty save for a few merchants and intiates that were preparing for the afternoons services. Fear gripped her and she turned to leave and plowed right into the His excellence Salomar.



The high priest looked her over a moment. Knowing why she was there, he said he’d give her a meal and even provide blessings for her health. She wasn’t pretty, but she would not be missed, and he knew she would not have family to come after her.



He “blessed” her many times over the next tenday. Then, when he cast her aside like a toy that was no longer fun, she was blessed by the initiates.

She hated them, hated them all.



Finally she was able to make her way back to the safety of the streets. She spent the next few years doing what she needed to survive.



Fate put her on the street watching the procession for some noble laid low in the prime of his life. Family sang a dirge as the group made it’s way to the outskirts of town. Aniya was about to leave when she saw him, His excellence. He was at the tail of the procession with several young boys, initiates all.



She would like to believe it was a dream, or that she didn’t know what she had done, but what did it matter. The rusted blade she had been keeping under her tunic was now planted firmly in His excellences stomach.



She ran. The maze of ramshackle houses and trash strewn alleys played in her favor, but still the Purple Dragon patrol was not far behind. Out of breath and shaking with fear she stumbled into the dead end alley. Aniya was ready to give up, why not. It wasn’t like her life added up to more than a copper or two.



Just as the guards were making their way towards the mouth of the alley a voice spoke to her. “The shadowed lord watches even the least of his faithful” Aniya looked to see who spoke, but there was no one there. Then she saw it, hidden behind a crate of rotting cabbage, darkness. She wormed her way through the hole and into a warehouse. Several wagons laiden and ready for travel were nearby. Onto the nearest she climbed and hid under a bolt of wool.



Suzail’s Purple Dgragons searched many days, going street by street looking for the murderer.



The wagon jolted and shook as it made its way along the road. Not pleasant, but at least it wasn’t the gallows.



For the first few days Fat Glombar didn’t know of his stowaway, and then the only reason he discovered her was that he noticed his rations were disappearing faster than they usually did. Even then, he wasn’t mad, so for the next few months Aniya knew peace for a time.



The fat merchant seemed to like her, he even called her his little wren, and would talk of the travels he has done. But when his goods weren’t fetching the coin he thought they should, and had to pay what little he earned for local taxes, he started to drink. When he drank he would take out his frustrations with a belt. It didn’t hurt too bad, and at least he wasn’t forcing himself on her.



Aniya spent less and less time sitting next to Glombar and when they passed through the next large town his little wren flew away. He wouldn’t miss her. South of Dagger Falls Glombar’s travels came to an end.



Lessons learned by Wren:

Do what you need to do to survive
Take what you want, do what you have to to get it. Lie, cheat, steal or whine, as long as you get your way
No one is nice. They will use you in the end
If it comes down to it, first to strike is always best
Trust in ONLY yourself