Marcus DeBane once had deluded dreams of grandeur but harsh reality soon set him straight. Born into a loveless relationship in which his father soon left after his third birthday, Marcus became attached to his mother. Lack of opportunity for gold lead them into a life chasing coin at every opportunity. At a young age, Marcus was sent from pillar to post in order to grind out every spare penny to help make the rent. On a good week, he’d even have enough gold for a loaf of bread, on bad weeks he had grown too comfortable with living without.
A bout of sickness claimed his mother before Marcus reached the age of sixteen. By then however, Marcus had developed a sharp sense to exploit kindness and charity from others. Many of the shopkeepers tired of his constant stories and schemes, their patience slowly whittled away by years of annoyance. In his older years, Marcus turned to grander yet more nefarious methods of gaining enough coin to satisfy his fear of starving to death. Pickpocketing turned into large scale stealing, minor tiffs turned into full scraps and cheap insults had developed into a cutting wit.
With not enough courage to rob a rich merchant blind or the lack of pride to let himself wither away, DeBane grew into a man obsessed with increasing his status and wealth. Living his life on the breadline had given him the skills to stay alive but also had made many enemies. Only a handful of friends remained that were either too blind to Marcus’ antics or too weak to oppose him.
A couple of Merchants wonder about the days where the young boy named Marcus DeBane helped on the piers and markets. A time where he worked an honest but hard living, they would wonder if a shred of decency was still left in the middle aged man. Or had he fully succumbed to a hopeless and sad existence.
The well dressed gentleman had a broad long smile that almost crept from ear to ear. Marcus sighed, rubbed his temples and visibly rolled his eyes at the approach. Just as he was enjoying a spare moment to enjoy the sun and all the open opportunities that the abundant bazaar revealed to him, the friendly man had taken it upon himself to waste DeBane’s time.
“Adventure? Elevation?” scoffed Debane with a dark chuckle. “I’d settle for a cheap ale and some peace first.”
“Don’t we all my friend, Don’t we all!” declared the gentleman, his grandiose hand gestures made him look as if he were performing to an adoring crowd. “The Whisky Biscuit is over yonder. Great establishment, good ales and if you don’t mind me saying, the women aren’t bad to look at either.”
DeBane’s eyebrow arched upwards at the prospect. Not so much at the pretty barmaids but more so at the distracted eyes towards them. Distracted men made for easy pickings and in this new city, no one was the wiser to Marcus’ nefarious past. The morons would shake his hand one second and look away the next, while a couple of coins here and there would suddenly go missing from their pouch. Marcus gave it a couple of weeks before they finally figured out that his smile was as fake as the cheap silk on a noble’s dress.
“Is that so?” replied DeBane who took a couple of steps forward to escape the avalanche of humanity that were also departing the sea vessel. “Surely you’d be kind enough to offer this tired soul his first ale?”
“Well... I suppose...”
“Or is this city not as lovely as you say it is?”
“This is the best place a fine gentlemen like yourself can make his home!” the gentleman grinned awkwardly. “Of course! Off to the Whisky Biscuit then!”
((I’m in a touch of a rush, i’m more than happy to build this post up and my character’s bio in the next few days. I’ve also not had enough time to read through some of the lore yet so I’ll definitely add in the references to the LotC lore if need be. Many thanks!))
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