OOC: Table Talk ONE
The narrows welcomed it's favored (and favorite) son back from his adventures, and the newly styled Master Scritos settled quite naturally into the world as it now knew him.
His wealth bought him a few more small businesses, and he dedicated two new shelters to the neighborhood. His mothers business flourished, as did his many siblings. He lay a cornerstone for a new church of the Lady of Darkness, an expensive undertaking but one he felt compelled to invest in.
Black stones, from the quarry's of distant Carsytul, well suited to her temperament.
He invited all his friends to a big feast at his mothers house, long had he spoken of her cooking, and none that attended should have been disappointed at the gravies, sauces and stews, much less the light, flaky delicious pastries that had made her bakery popular with even the middle class and a few nobles who deigned to send their servants into the narrows for the delights of Mother Scrito's ovens.
Much like his comrades, however, the recent adventures had touched Ben in a way that required introspection. He vanished into the existing temple of the Raven Queen for several weeks before returning, a different, darker man, but stronger, both of heart and mind, for his efforts.
Few, out side of his sister, mother and Saliq were given the opportunity to see his new tattoo/holy symbol, the emblem of his goddess made of inks of gold, silver and other more rare elements. It was a real work of art, but one he wouldn't put on display.
Outwardly he dove into the world of the city. Few in the narrows did not know his name, his influence in the thieves guild grew, but the tendrils of his ambition wormed and wheedled there way into almost every aspect of Stormhaven life.
When members of the Talas family retreated to the bucolic outskirts of the cities sphere of influence, rumors were that Ben had had a hand in it. A pouch of coins here, a whisper there, even rumors of evidence both legitimate and manufactured were spread. Rumor's Ben would never confirm nor deny, meeting every comment with but a smile. Unless someone mentioned the remaining member of the family whose position seemed unassailable. Mention of Lord Harven brought a sour look to the mans face.
His part in the events that retrieved the three golden discs was no secret, and it was well known that he lobbied for some title, not just for himself, but his friend the Prince, Saliq. The foreigners impression of Ben's efforts were his own, but Ben loved his comrade, and as was typical of the man who seldom had a single motive, he had hopes for his sister to marry the Prince, such a title would then fall on her shoulders as well.
When the storms befell the city, Ben seemed to revel in the weather. Although he realized the hardship it brought on others, it seemed to double his energies as he did what he could to help the members of what he considered his community, the poorer stretches of Stormhaven. Tarps for tattered roofs, loaves for empty stomachs. For every cynic who correctly gauged that Master Scritos hope to gain in reputation and status for his efforts, there were three who equally understood his concern was a true and honest reflection of his heart.
He was not a simple man.
it was one one such storm night that Master Scritos was called to the Hogs Head, the tavern of one Gorblim Thar, a grumpy old man who didn't hold young Ben in the deepest regard, but knew better than to be openly hostile.
It was there that Ben found concern in the wounds of an injured (some might have thought dying, but she would prove them wrong) single mother... he would pursue his concerns, but first he would seek whatever of his comrades he could find. None of them had much love for the undead spawn known as Ghasts, who had shown themselves to be in the sewers of Stormhaven. One of them had foolishly left a bite mark where Ben could find it. He would do what he could to make the foul beast and his kind regret that error.
This message was lightly edited by the player at 14:23, Sat 28 May 2016.
