Deaxis Reesh

Half-elf bard, and a singer by trade, and swordfighter of some skill. He is a smart ass, streetrunner and the orphan (abandoned?) son of an exiled Varisian Princess (more likely gypsy whore) and Riddleport sea captain (pirate)


What did Deaxis Reesh know? He knew that if he sang the song one more time, the half-orc with the bad shoulder and worse breath would bust in his face again. He whipped the snot and blood from his cheek and slung it onto the floor. In the dark light, the blood sank into the floor boards of Gravediggers Inn, the snot held to the top. He knew the punch was coming; he could feel the imprint of the dagger ring in his cheek already. But, there was no other way — Brownback has to get to the top floor, has to get those symbols on the roof, and where else does one get the chance to entertain a room full of brigands and orcs.

Deaxis cleared his throat, checking his timber, licking his lips as he went back in where he left off before the green fist stopped the show.

“And what became of those of legendary men and their keep
In a tale only the walls of that castle will speak
Be they alive in the depths full of desire and grime
To return one day to write another tale of the…”

And before he could get “the nine” out, the beast-man lurched at him so hard his helmet came off his head, and the bard went down, rear over head, his body catching the full weight of the rotten wooden table and sending splinters in the air and into the mugs of the bastards around him. Reesh’s last thought was that he was glad he had emptied his pockets, for as his company slipped up the steps to the second floor of the Inn and onto the roof, he knew the patrons would steal him his naked and throw him out into the rain.

In his dreams, the night was dark, and he could hear his mother’s voice. Distinctly Elven in its tone, and he wondered if he got his singing voice from her and his story telling from his father. She was born a half-elf in Varisa, his father; a pirate from Riddleport gave him his distinct scar across his forearms. And for good measure down his back. Then in the black remembers his mother, the screaming and the sound of bone on bone.

He wakes up screaming again, screaming, then singing, then screaming, as Vress, the thief is throwing water in his face. A face that feels funning and bloated.
And all Deaxis can think of is the heroes of the Nine and his father somewhere on a boat, maybe housing the flags of the Imperium. Maybe. Dreams speak of much more than this world.

Deaxis Reesh

Rise of the Runelords Arkasha