Fafnir was born on the road to two loving, albeit swindling, parents and spent a good portion of his life doing relatively bad things under his parents command. He was tutored by his father, a black haired dwarf known as “Argus Farwalker” to pick pocket and steal from market stalls and shops in the towns they visited, while his mother “Hedi Farwalker” taught him to be a convincing beggar child – which he was in essence – and pull on the heart strings of any passer-by to get a little coin from them. His parents had not foreseen, however, the aptitude that Fafnir had for swindling and, over time, Fafnir had accrued enough gold from his misdeeds to allow his parents to set up a small tavern on a trade route: The Loose Purse.
By the dwarfling age of 15, Fafnir assisted his parents in running their tavern and, with the success of their modest tavern, his parents had become straight shooters. The family habit of stealing slowly died down as he reached adulthood and, before long, Fafnir and his family had become regular, hard-working dwarves. For a long while, Fafnir plodded along this way, simply tending to tables or fetching ale or food when needed, but there was something missing in it all. The simplicity of this new life could be described in a single word: dull. Where were the times where Fafnir had to outrun 4 or 5 guards over a bit of bread? Where were the times where his parents would give him a pat on the back for pulling a con over on a dim set of elves? All he was met with now was “Fafnir do this” and “Fafnir do that”.
Coming into his later years, his parents had become older. More frail. By this time, Fafnir was around 250, and his parents were becoming weak and frail. The years upon years of back and forth tavern serving had only proven to hasten the inevitable. Work at The Loose Purse began getting replaced by fresh faces and it was up to Fafnir to show them the ropes of the place he’d spent his life to, begrudgingly, maintain. He had learned to become more people focused in this time, beginning to replace his daily drab lifestyle with the fun and revelry of interacting with people who weren’t his parents. Over those years, Fafnir had even learned to have a good laugh and celebrate even the smallest occasions as much as he could. Workers in the tavern came and went often, though Fafnir had never minded that. If anything, it was always fun meeting new people and getting to discover how much ale they could hold. Slowly, The Loose Purse had shifted from being his parents tavern to his tavern, giving him the freedom to host small events that would generate a little more income, such as shut-ins or table games (always rigged in favour of Fafnir, of course) that could entertain his patrons.
The week his parents died was a sudden one. First, Hedi had simply passed from old age when Fafnir was around 340. Only a few days later did his father, Argus die too. Some could argue that the bond between his parents could not be broken for more than a short time and that his father simply had to be with his mother. Fafnir embraced their death, thanking them for all they did for him in life, giving him the opportunity to learn how to get by, both legally and illegally. As an homage to their great trade and hard work, Fafnir would go on to try to share the revelry from The Loose Purse across the land. He aimed to travel, first, to Talon’s Grotto, with an end goal of visiting as many cities, towns and small outcrops as possible so that all may know the joyous times that could be had...
...in a loving tavern, built by con artists.
