Figures from Nigel's Past: Robert McKee

As work on the Shadowman project continues, here's a character sketch I did for Robert McKee--The man that teaches a young 9 year old Nigel to read (and yes, I am thinking in D&D stats [2nd ed though]).

Robert McKee--Male, human smuggler, lvl 8. Age 37 Ht 5'7" wt 128. Greying brown hair with a very scraggly beard. Has the beginnings of a bald spot and very rotten teeth--missing half of the teeth on the upper right side of his mouth.

He carries a broadsword, but not very accomplished with it--more for intimidation factor. He also owns an El Tierran wheellock horse musket, which he uses occasionally on high profile runs. He's a native of Darkepoole. Not married but very fond of Aerie, a 20 something whore from Lady A's brothel on Firth St who also waits tables at The Wall. He often talks of buying her permanently.

McKee is an outspoken heretic of the Dirulean crown--highly critical of the Dirulean Knights and King Edward IX.

He got his start into smuggling abetting in the transport of stolen tax monies to Scrattston and Rae'lan. Since then he has moved into smuggling liquor and documents. He's always looking for documents incrementing the state, and has an impressive library.

McKee belongs to a small guild of rogues and dissidents, The Knights of Darkepoole. While not quite organized enough to qualify as a thief guild, they are a very tightly knit group that works to free wronged people before execution, disrupt the Dirulean state, and attempt to overthrow the government in general. To do this they employ extortion, protection rackets, banditry, theft, trespassing, and even murder.

McKee acts as a sort of captain within the guild, and is largely in charge of liquidating all stolen goods. He has close contacts with several smugglers including: Alison Wash, Brendon Stark, Finian ApMordren, Chas Black, and Quick Jonny Quink.

Nigel Caedman Character Bio and Brief History

I wrote this, mmm, probably back in 2002ish and it became the impetus for a series of vignettes called the Fractured Tales. The original idea, which I'm now currently re-envisioning for the novel project, was to write stories of others' telling about Nigel's life--very much ala Chuck Palahaniuk's Rant (except I thought of it long before Rant was published or I knew who Palahaniuk was). In the interest of the current project, I've added some detail through most of Nigel's timeline to current.

Homeland: Darkepoole Dirulea
Birth Date: April 8, 1429
Appearance:

• Eyes: Brown, discolored, blue left eye, with large scar running from about center of forehead through eye and then down to about even with bottom of his nose.
• Hair: His hair ranges in length, but is usually short or close shaved. Often peppered with silver nowadays.
• Apparel: He usually dresses in black, but has been known to wear red or white tunics from time to time.
• Other Identifying marks: He walks with a swagger. He usually wears a black bandanna. Black goatee, and usually a few days' stubble. He has a slightly twisted nose. In 1594 or 1595 his left hand was reduced to blackened charred bone, almost to the elbow--from then on he wore a glove to cover the wound. Sometime in the early 1600s, Layil healed his arm back to its original state.
• Accent: One of his key gameplay features is his accent, which originally was modeled on a sort of Americanized Hollywood cockney (I was about 15 when I first created Nigel, and modeled his accent off [I can't belive I'm going to publish this] Kano from the freaking Mortal Kombat movie), but then through lots of practice and endless watching of Snatch modulated into more of a Alan Ford, Bricktop style cockney, where I've tried to start incorporating actual rhyming slang as well. On Ae'rinus, Nigel's accent is a sort of mash between standard Dirulean and the Na'Claad dialect (a gypsy clan hailing from Rae'lan).

Nigel is perhaps one of the oldest existing NPCs on Ae'rinus. As mentioned above, I think I was about 15 when I created him. Originally he was an NPC to be rescued by Nek Nitram when the Solostarathan sent Nek to Avernuss (to die). The main NPC that Nek was travelling with at the time, Meythallis of Dark Skye (a Shallis Elf fighter/mage, I think), was a total dud. And I remember whipping up Nigel to give a jolt of Energy to the campaign. It worked. Nek ended up pushing Meythallis to the background, and Nigel and Nek became very close travelling companions. For many years Nigel considered Nek and the Wolf Pack (Nek's Party) as one of the best times of his life.

Let's Start with the history (mind you I am rewriting and expanding some, so if Nigel told you different, he was drunk at the time).

Birth and Childhood: Nigel was born in the early 1400s in a rather large fishing and trade town called Darkepoole in southern Dirulea. His father originally was of a higher ranking position, Head Guard of the North Gate, until he was removed and tried for treason, but released. His father quickly descended into the bottle, and left young Nigel, his two brothers, and their mother to fend for their own on a measly stipend earned from the rotting beet plot they owned just outside of town.

By Nigel's 9th birthday, his father had been in and out of Common Jail numerous times, and ceased visiting the family. His mother had descended into whoredom to deal with the whole situation, and passed away some few months later. His other two brothers William, and Owen, fought constantly, and Nigel had little patience for their constant insolence. He left his two brothers to fend on their own one month after the death of their mother.

Stealing to all Dirulean youths within the cities was second nature, so Nigel had little trouble keeping himself fed during the following years. He kept to the streets until the next summer, where he signed onto a transport galleon servicing Rae' Lan Island. Though he rather enjoyed the sea life, the captain had him removed from the ship after only one voyage for 'constant drunkenness.

Around this time, Nigel began to become keenly aware of the political mess that Dirulea resided within. Being smarter than your average Dirulean, Nigel never quite bought into the tales and stories told to him at a young age about the superiority of the Dirulean state. He began to look around and very soon noticed the massive depths of corruption in every entity of the city. Citizens were practically banned from all manners of intellectualism, and private ownership. The government ensured that any upstarts, free thinkers, or entrepreneurs were quickly put down. He taught himself the written Terrak language, as well as various methods of entering buildings without using doors. Soon, after poring through various judicial log books, he began to understand the massive scope of Dirulean abuse.

By the age of 15 his contempt for the government had grown to great proportions, great enough to have guards called to his attention. He spent three months in jail the summer of 1444 for "plotting against the Government." He escaped shortly before his would be execution.

Around this time, he decided it imperative to teach himself some manner of protection, since he was quickly becoming a wanted criminal. He stowed away on a ship to Rae' Lan island, where Dirulean officials were not as observant, and began to travel about with the Na' Claad gypsies. The gypsies were a well known for their political assassinations, and ability to avoid arrest.

He spent about two years with the gypsies, during which he entertained a short blissful time with a girl by the name of Faye. The girl was a servant to a Dirulean Governor's wife, and was tortured and scarred by the governor, after her tryst was discovered (servants were not allowed to mingle with outsiders). Enraged, Nigel exacted the same scarring to the governor's wife, and torched his estate. Plagued by Dirulean Knights, Nigel boarded a ship for Darkepoole, on Spring Equinox 1447.

Back in Darkepoole, Nigel came across a document stating that his father had been removed from his position due to the mere whim of a higher ranking knight. Around this time Nigel began to organize an underground movement to eliminate the corruption within Darkepoole as well as it's sister town, Carraughton in Rae' lan. He along with five others, Mary "Black Ivory" Duckett, Jonas Harrold, Timothy "the blade" MacDerny, Joshua "The Mark", and Marlowe Ambrose began a faction known as the South Dirulean Trade Agency (yes a fictional company), and began querying local nobles and other members of power for various backing possibilities. They embezzled some estimated 200,000 gold before they were shut down in 1449. Nigel and Marlowe were the only two members who survived the raid on their south shore complex. During its period of running, Nigel had developed close, lasting relationships with both Mary and Jonas, and furthermore, their deaths drove Nigel to the brink of insanity, which would eventually lead to his well known nervous tick whenever talks of killing come up.

Marlowe parted from Nigel after the dissolution of the company, under terms of mutual agreement, and died in 1480, a very rich man.

Nigel, plotted for vengeance. He began to case each mansion, each estate, each townhouse, of every noble involved with any manner of lawmaking in the city. In August of 1449, he began his Murdering spree, known as the Blood Rains of Darkepoole. Through the summer of 1450, he killed over 45 government officials, some 30 Dirulean Knights, and nearly 20 supporters of the Dirulean Government. He was eventually arrested in July of 1450, and sent to the lowest levels of Cadamire Dungeon, the country's most nefarious prison. He was deemed too horrible to be given the honor of a quick death, and therefore allowed to rot with the rats for the rest of eternity.

However, fortunately (depending on how you look at it), the Solostarathan had caught wind of Nigel's feats, and sent in a squad of elves to break Nigel out of the clink. They escorted him to Gwendollewen where he was received as a national hero. Mind you that Nigel, being much more liberated than your average Dirulean, was still no giant fan of the elves, but mainly because they had "piss poor alcohol, and their women were a bit waifish." so anyway, Nigel was inducted as one of the first non-elven members of the Solostarathon in over 50 years.

Of course, there were many within the society that thought ill of this induction, and one in particular, Anton Silvestri, was particularly against the idea of non-elves participating in the society, and had Nigel shipped off on a mission to Avernuss. Nigel would spend two years there before he was rescued by Nek and Meythallis of Darkskye.

After Nek took care of the Silvestri element, Nigel was inseparable from Nek. The two of them spent the next few years traveling together, in the legendary "Wolf Pack" party, with other big names as Cain Braellic, Gwenith Oemorium, Mar' ii Nitram, Steele Firehammer, and Straker Decorum. Nigel participated in the coming of the gods prophesy in 1454, and subsequently disappeared from Ae'rinus until 1590.

In 1590, Nigel appeared, disoriented and worse for the wear on the south eastern coast of Ikathia. Shortly after his reappearance, Layil claimed Nigel as her chosen one, and over the next couple years he was seen wandering all over the continent, ending up in Resbon in 1592.

In 1592, Nigel surfaced in Malise as the patron of Layil and compatriot of Tokogau Ito. He aided Tokogau in removing the Falcon Knights thief guild from the city, asserting Sharde's control of Malise. Nigel hung around for a bit and then traveled onward, partly in search of Nek, and partly to find his life again.

After the events that had separated him from Nek and the others, Nigel found himself greatly alone, and without a true ideology. The first year or so was ok, since he was under the direction of Layil, but once Tokogau ceded the position, he found himself in a large world, massively changed from its former days. He still harbored distaste for the Dirulean empire, but he had no drive to return to that wretched country to do anything about it. He had little care for Maxwell's often obscured motives, and therefore no reason to return to Gwendollewen. He made a couple trips to Riversedge, and talked to Cain, who had settled and opened an adventuring guild. He also did some traveling through Drachmaar, Liel, Maridia, and finally back to Resbon, a country, that he had taken quite a liking to. During these years of travel, he found himself in contact with many adventuring parties. He often tagged along with them, whether they liked it or not, for something to do, another voice to talk to.

In 1598, Nigel found himself in Malise yet again, where he met off-worlders: Cersee Nailo, Talon, Illiania, and their wolf Okami. Nigel took a liking to the stubborn half-celestial Cersee, and began following them. Shortly after, they fought a pack of demons in Reshe and decided that the demons under Drevissh needed to be stopped. At that point, everyone broke up and Nigel headed to Riversedge to investigate rumors of expanding Tuergeon influence.

In Riversedge, Nigel, Nek and their Adventurer's guild (founded by former Wolf Pack member, Cain Braellic), helped organize the merchants guilds to stand up against invasion when the Brendian government collapsed.

Shortly before the summer solstice of 1600 (the day that Magic fell and the sky burned), Nigel regained his favored status by Layil when he defeated Averon's attempts of possessing another of his travelling companions, Stormchaser. During this confrontation, Nigel's left arm was charred to the bone nearly to his elbow. He would wear this scar for several years before Layil tired of his disfigurement and healed it.

Around the time of the 1600 solstice, the first of two successive Gods' wars began. And, as a chosen one of Layil, Nigel was subjected to many waves of assassins from Terrasond.

By 1601 Nigel and Nek help Riversedge achieve independence, founding itself as a free city-state.

In 1602 Nigel, Nek, and Cersee defeat Tokogau Ito in Malise, Resbon. Afterwards, Nigel and Cersee marry and establish a residence in Rae'lan.

After Cersee and Nigel Married, the two became involved with a number of things from the 2nd Gods' War, to raising children, to establishing a guild, The Phoenix Moon, to protecting Dirulea's stability under King Philip, to finally ascending to the ranks of the gods themselves.

This man has little societal loyalties, can kill in an instant, but is greatly devoted to anyone who will spend a dime, buy a drink and hear his story. He's a traveler, assassin, thief, rogue straight through. Prior to Cersee, he has had every love of his life systematically and irrevocably ripped from him, yet he continually searches for another person, another brother, sister, wife, lover, to be a good ole chum and buy 'im a drink.

For fun, here are Nigel's Character stats circa 1598
Character Stats
Level 17, HP: 68 AC 2 (Mithral chain hauberk, dex)
Str 18/50
Dex 17
Con 14
Int 17
Wis 10
Cha 10
Nigel is considered a Grand Master at Daggers
Languages: Terrak (read/write as well), Calic, Nieven, Dräk, Braek, Roslic (read only)
Nigel is the current "Chosen One" of Layil. He is bestowed the following abilities based on that status:
full night vision (off-color eye glows)
Line of Sight Teleportation 2x/day
Invisibility in shadow at will
Unlock any door 1/day
Items of Interest:
Teeth of Drammarr (function as daggers +2 impaling)
Sword of Souls (destroys regenitive abilities, charged by Layil, can smite (slay) 1x/month)
Mithral Chain Hauberk (AC 5)
Straker's Belt of Everfull Daggers (stolen from Straker) Daggers cause little initial damage, but do cumulative damage until removed, when they actually do real damage (i.e. dagger left in for 3 rnds will do 3 dmg on pullout)

Oh Hai! Sorry for the delay

It's been quite a while since I've posted here, but as mentioned on my primary blog, I'm in the process of building up the state of the Ae'rinus estate in preparation for the novel about Nigel.
Speaking of,

Here's an old story written about Nigel shortly after his Bloody attack on Darkepoole.

Quiet was that morn, three buildings still ablaze.

Those roads, stood thick, silent, half-drowned in mid-summer’s mud,

while slate cloth whipped at the mailed guards of th’ gate.

Six they stood, yet five more laid to rest,

giving their lives over to that greedy mud.

Only their families will notice an absence at the dinner table, but to what end?

Their palates certainly harden; mold becomes a viable necessity,

while father sleeps on duty.

O Darkened morn, the type not even the most blottered ‘d venture.

A morn so dry of life, th’ fires on Bilk St., Amber St., Arc St. seem all the less cold.

So soddin’ dry that th’ clink clink an’ th’ rough calls fro’ that dread party

did split the smoggy skies, split as if ‘twere th’ sun (not that it is oft seen),

split us all with that blasted, fearful axe of oppression.

Six knights about one white pawn dress’d black

and bearing th’ wooden pile ‘cross ‘is back.

No deft hands shall loose th’ bonds ‘round his bony wrists.

No brave sod’ll free that barrow man; those briny bloods,

deftest at th’ draw, bars of “justice,” said haughtily, him surround.

Birds of a feather, birds of a feather, why not flock together?

Where for art that bloody boxman?

Boxman, boxman, break that lock.

Slide swift forward, sharpen sweet spines,

still their thirst in that bloody brine.

But yet no bird did squawk, not finch, not swallow, not wren,

but to their nests didst they fly.

Go Hide! Go Hide! Was their cry.

Go hide, go hide, oh, ye knaves of little faith.

Ye knights of the post, gallows birds, sops, nappers, ark ruffians, and filchers.

You cracksmen, foists, made men, moon cursers, and anglers.

Do ye not see what ‘e did for thee?

Why then do you fly, go hide, while e’ll be thrown in the wooden ruff,

dragged of to th’ queer ken, tort’red and beat?

What will you say when ‘e catches hempen fever?

Will ye understand then, what this white pawn done?

None but silent eyes heard that mud-sotted pawn

led by the slate clothed myrmidons,

the rusted bars of “Justice,” a hollow triumph for this oak stripp’d hamlet.

Methinks ye blottered birds, soon realize the shiny trappings

that lie unguarded under these smoke ridden docks.

And who doth ye attribute for this extra clink?

Yea none but that barrow pawn, that noble blood,

for whom ye owe newfound wealth,

for whom ye owe this shaved hierarchy,

shaved by that verray pawn,

barrow man,

blood,

to whom ye didst not help.

How dare ye sit to gain fro’ ‘is loss?

‘Tis life, ‘tis said. ‘tis as crying beef to your brother,

your flock; would ye dare that misfortune?

What repugnance faces yon wretches?

Wretched birds. A pox upon your flock!

May yon upright man find his wine too sweet this night!

For I find no ken in this wretch no more!

Yon place in the deadbook is reserved, may’t be a pleasant entry.

-Marlowe-

-Posted upon the door of Arcan Mather’s Thief Guild, Mid-summer 15, year 1440.