Rook the Good Samaritan (Patreon)

“I was left by my tiefling mother in the care of my neglectful tiefling father, and my older sister, Relentless. When Relentless was older, she stole me away to live with her when I was five years old. Our ‘father’ didn’t put much effort to stop her.

“Relentless was a good older sister, teaching me spells in her spare time. We lived happily for a few years, in a remote cabin in the woods and a tiny farm, until one day, I came home to find my beloved sister dead on the floor.

“I sobbed over her. Not understanding what she had done to deserve dying this way, I became angry and swore to kill whoever killed my sister.

“I followed the trail of blood until it led to the person it belonged to. It was a towering Aasimar woman cleaning the blood off her peculiar sword that had white glowing eyes in the blade. Part of me really wanted that sword.

“But seeing how big and strong she was, I realized that the only way I could kill her was if I was strong like her. So I relentlessly begged her to let me become her apprentice.

“After possibly weeks of persistence, she finally accepted. I don’t know the reason why she she did, but nonetheless, my training lasted well into my adulthood.

“She and I were pretty equal when it came to skill. But by then I felt like it was too late to kill her. I would end up making excuses. At some point, I couldn’t even remember why I wanted to kill her in the first place. Because I fell in love with her. She was now my mentor and I had eventually forgotten about my sister, and my true name.

“Until one night when she would bring me to a familiar setting, putting me in a situation to kill a child’s mother right in front of them. Her logic was if I could kill someone begging for their life, I could kill anything. I suddenly remembered why I was with her to begin with. We fought, and I finally killed her. Taking her sword with me. It burned to the touch, so I wrapped it in rags.

“I had no idea how to move on or how to deal with emotional pain. I had forgotten my roots, not that there was much there to begin with. I had no past and no future, and I felt like it was hopeless to try to reconnect with people.

“I spent a long time wandering aimlessly back and forth through the darkest woods, no longer caring about my own survival but fighting out of instinct. Eventually, people just started to follow me for protection. It was surprising but I didn’t care much beyond that. Except it kinda made me feel good in the end, knowing people were safe because of me. It gave me a sense of purpose.

“Something told me to try to pick up the sword again, but to not let go this time. It burned so painfully, it was much for me to handle. I fainted. When I woke up, the sword’s entire appearance changed. Instead of eyes, it now had red glowing markings in the center. I had no idea how or why, but I felt the impulse to “belong to” my sword instead of the other way around. I spent hours burning my flesh until I had markings similar to my sword. It finally let me touch it without burning.

“I felt reborn somehow. This sword somehow giving me a sense of companionship. I even retaught myself spells that Relentless taught me. I continued being an escort for people needing to trek through dangerous territory. I came to really enjoy it. I got to show off my skills, and there were people who were actually impressed with me. Looking up to me as this big tough successful person. It was an addicting feeling.

“I never charge women or children, but to make up the difference I charge an obscene amount of money for men who want the same service. Occasionally I spend some of my money on alcohol and I drink it by myself until my next patron comes along and I do it all over again.

“I developed enough of a reputation to where I was given the name Rook the Good Samaritan, which really takes away from my badass persona. But I can’t help what people call me. I suppose it doesn’t matter anyway. It’s not an idyllic life, but at least I think this is where I’ll find happiness.” 

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