The Heroes of Loudwater
The scion of a fallen clan, seeking to redeem his family's honor and to prove his own.
My life, as I know it, begins on the night of the Highharvestide festival in Waterdeep at age two. I am 18 now, and have returned to the city of my birth. This will be the one and only time, I will recount the days of my youth. So it begins:
It was a beautiful autumn day, and the High Harvestide festival was in full swing celebrating this year’s harvest. My mother had been cooking pastries, bread, and other delicious items all day. My father, like typical Halfling men, had been out with his friends drinking and gambling all day. As time for the High Harvestide dinner approached, my father returned home drunk and looking for a fight.
Sitting down for dinner and biting into a pastry, apple filling spilled down his shirt. Angry because it was his favorite shirt, he immediately starting yelling at my mother. As the night progressed, and more alcohol was being consumed, the yelling continued and began to escalate into threats. The argument finally reached its climax at dusk that evening.
It was a loud and sharp smack. You could hear my mother hit the ground hard, but he didn’t stop there. Numerous kicks poured into her chest and abdomen, but he still wasn’t done. Drawing forth his shortsword, he began cutting her face. One large deep slash on her right cheek, and another on her left. He then took his shortsword and plunged it deep into her throat. Satisfied with his show of power, he walked into the living room where my sister and I were playing. Gave my sister a pat on the head, and gave me his patented wink and crooked tooth grin. He then left without saying a single word.
As soon as he left, I immediately made my way over to my mother. I didn’t know what was going on, the only thing I did know was there was a pool of blood surrounding my mother and she lied motionless on the floor. Tears welled up in me, I tried to hold them back, but couldn’t. I collapsed onto my mother’s motionless body. With my hands on her chest, and my head on my hands, I began sobbing uncontrollably.
Ten minutes passed, before I remembered my sister was in the other room. As I started to get up, something or someone grabbed my hand. Startled, I pulled my hand away from the unseen assailant. It was only then that I noticed it was my mother’s hand that grabbed me. Looking at her, I noticed the wounds on her face had disappeared. Her slashed throat was completely healed. It was a miracle.
She then stood up, looked at me, and said. “You are not like your father or brothers, Erwin. Your heart is pure and strong. Your love saved me, Erwin, and we need to leave before your father gets back.” Collecting a few changes of clothes, some food, and my sister, the three of us escaped into the night. So we thought…
My father’s minions caught up to us a few days later. It took me 2 weeks, to recover from the injuries. Nothing could be done for my mother after his second savage attack. The last thing I remembered before falling into unconsciousness was the sound of galloping horses, and the figure of a male Halfling standing on a large rock in the setting sun.