As you enter the tavern you are hit by the sudden aroma of smoke and booze. Pots sit on the floor at the end of every table, each fuming there own unique fragrance from the random tabac that's been dumped inside. You go towards the back of the tavern careful to look only at the floor. The back is less noisy, less bright, and there is a heavyness in the air. You feel as if you're in danger. Groups of men sit around tables strewn in a seemingly random pattern, their heads close together whispering. You continue walking back, deeper into the darkness until you find a table with a lone man. Nodding to him you race towards his table and extend your hand with a smile but he only looks at you, taking a long draw on his pipe.
As your eyes meet his you can't help but be repulsed. His hair is matted and dirty, as black as the feather of a raven. Tied around his head is a black cloth that crosses over his left eye, hiding it from view. His visible right eye is black as well, dark as coal, even in a well lit room you know his pupil won't be visible. His face is tan, obviously a man who's spent many days under the sun. White lines crisscross his face, old scars from battles he either won or lost.
"You da new recruit den?" He drawls still making no move to shake your hand. Nodding towards the chair across from him he says, "Sit." He continues to stare at you as you sit. You can hear the crackle of the tabac as it burns with each breath.
Removing the pipe from his mouth, he stares at you a moment longer before tapping the head against the side of the table, emptying its contents onto the floor. "You know da business me and moine do yea? Yea, you otta considerin you're here. Well then we might as well get aquainted."
"Names Lamont Vescovi, I was born in Tear, Chalm outskirts. Rough place dat, the general populace don't care about what goes on der. And dey don wanna do dey? We were ignored and left in da muck and mud. I ad a family once. A mum and pop. Me mum was killed by some footpads in a side ally of one of da warehouses." He pauses chuckling to himself, refilling and tamping down tabac into his pipe once more. "Shoulda known betta, robbin in dat area is about pointless. When she couldn't give em what dey wanted dey took the only thing she ad." Another chuckle creeps out as he clamps the pipe between his teeth and uses a nearby candle to light his pipe. He continues to take long draws until its well lit then sits the candle back down.
"So she dies, my father decides ees gonna seek revenge. Tells me to stay behind. But I shadow im and watch im get cuts down as well. What's a choild to do eh? Well this one trailed that lot back to der place of business. I set it on fire durin da day when dey was all asleep. Busy business, da business dats done at night. Mans gotta sleep yea? Well what do one do after dat? I went straight to the Defenders and turned maself in of course!" He barks a laugh sending a small amount of ashes tumbling out of the head of his pipe. "No this one did whatever it took afta that. I begged at first, I did whateva I could to survive. Eventually I decided dat beggin jus wasn't my thing. Started robbin folks maself! Formed a choild gang and took anyting we could from anyone we could."
"As I grew I started foindin maself in rougher crowds. This one always came out on top though didn't I? I always took over and moved up. Eventually most of da outskirts and back allies of Tear were moin. But ders a proice for everything you own isn't der? Defenders got wind of me, and so I left Tear on the first ship I could find. I killed da captain one night and convinced da crew to turn smuggler wiv me. We smuggle anything and everything. From Tear, to Illian, to Mayene and up to Andor. Andorans ain't much betta dan the damn Tairens are dey?!" With this his face turns a different shade and his pipe stands out straight, his teeth biting down hard on the stem.
"Deys no betta than anyone! Yet deys loik to think dey is don't dey? Yes dey do. And to make mattas worse dey loik to supply dem Tairen scum wiv goods and other articles. Well dats foin by me. The more dey ship da more I can take. ain't that right? We steal Andoran goods and smuggle dem back into der country and sell it roit back to dem." He says with a chuckle. His face going passive once more. "Roit mate dats where yous come in. I need another hand or twos for some of da extra work I'm pullin. We gots goods for Illian. I foind maself needin a man that cen get into the country. From my understandin dats yo back yard eh?"
He pulls another long draw on his pipe and releases a torrent of smoke into your face. You cough with the stench of tabac and ale, wiping your face as you do. When you look back up you find his single black eye meeting yours and feel yourself going cold, the cloth has shifted to the other side, now covering his right eye. You feel confused a moment but then he speaks once more.
"See da point of dis story laddo, wasn't just because I loik talkin about maself. See I do dis is true. But I want you ta understand. There is no backin out now. An if you even tink of crossin me. I'll gut you maself. So welcome to da crew lad. And don't mess up." He says with a smile, and removing the pipe from his mouth offers you his hand.