Monty Boffins

In the Beginning
"Dear Mr. and Mrs. Boffins,

I regret to inform you of the sudden and unsuspected passing of your son Monty. He was a diligent, studious boy with many aspirations of carrying pride to the family name."

If anything his father might write the college for a retraction on the grounds of libel for that kind of misplaced praise for a son who could never live up to even the lowest of expectations. The worst part? Monty was aware of it and with that he crumpled the letter and through it into the fire. Striking his quill to his tongue, he started his letter again.

"Dear Boffins,

It is with regret that we write this letter in order to inform you of the absence of your son and most dedicated scholar Monty. During an excursion with our faculty the gorgeous, intelligent, conniving, horrible, underhanded, tricky, bitch, Raeshi Meadowlark to the High College Mage Tower, where he delivered a thrilling lecture of Karin the Wheel to an incredibly welcoming audience. His charisma was unparalleled and it is a performance that will continue to be celebrated and cemented into the legacy affiliated with Golden Pheran College."

Convincing, it actually seemed a tad bit less like rubbish for once. Or, it did before Monty crumpled the paper once again and tossed it into the fire as he had done so many, many times before. Monty paced around the hearth, peering out the window, as he had done nearly every night since his encounter in the tower. As a boy, some five years passed sleep was his most cherish possession, his mother often saying that he seemed more nonsensical than usual without getting at least 10-11 hours a night. But, it's quite astonishing what a person can get by with out of a tad bit of necessity.

"Dear You Pompous Uppity Boffins,

If you have taken the time to put down your pipe and bring your gaze away from sneering over your nose at everyone who has ever had to try for something and not come but it through natural talent, than I'll inform you that your son is a criminal. Not by his own doing, guilty only by falling in lust with a dream too good to be true, but a criminal nonetheless. Perhaps if you spent some time actually caring about more than money, books and your own success he'd have had the self-esteem not to fall into this blunder, but here we are. He may be dead by the time you get this, so alas, father will have a touch of tragedy to add to his timeless legacy. Congratulations on making the chapters of your biography a little less stale.

-M"

Finally, a letter worth sending.

The Memoirs of Monty Boffins
Chapter 1: A Most Unsettling Time

Dear Reader,

If you're reading this, then I assume I am long dead. For you see heroism has a strange way of finding those who wish for it the least. If you have taken the time to locate this book, then perhaps you are willing to read a bit more about how I, the ill-famed Monty Boffins, was able to find myself into situation after situation which no right minded halfling should have any business being a part of.

For it wasn't my idea to liberate the town, or worse yet, to be called upon for deeds and heroics of the townfolk. I was content, sipping tea and being all to forgotten about. But, fates would have be put in a predicament of the contrary. A bard, they call me, a folksman, story-telling, orator and knowledge keeper. In reality, I assume that I had fooled many, simply by telling them I knew more than was reality. I learned at a young age, with the company I kept, that it was a far safer stance to keep one's mouth closed and ears open.

But alas, such a strategy only works if one can hold true the same stance with the company they keep. And, through no fault of my own, my best friend in the entire world was particularly the opposite of my stayed hand. Rudulphas is kindest Halfling one might ever have the pleasure of knowing. He's routinely drunk, brash, rude, filthy and nonsensical at the best of times, but where I come from, kindness goes a long way. Throughout all of this, I can tell you that without him, my journey would have ended long before it ever began. Although, now is hardly the time to bore you with such details, there is etiquette even in death.

The exciting bits of my journey is where this story begins, if you're all too unfortunate I'll fill in the details of the past events during the slower parts of this tale. But if you knew Rudulphas, than you would be aware that stoicism and downtime were oil to his water. We met back together after a great many years apart, myself and my friends, to reconcile over the passing of our dear mentor Sir Bryce Greenwood, a name that shall go down in history with far more prestige than my own, if I should have any say in it. Five of us, set back in our path to Pinefarrow, to see what adventure awaited us. Author's note: Should you have no idea where Pinefarrow is, no one would fault you, as it burns down quickly after we all meet. Truly a tragic event and one that can more or less be blamed on the shortsightedness of our non-halfling compatriots.

We childhood friends, grouped back together in hopes of achieving all of limitless bounty that we were sought as children but encountered too much limitation to achieve. We sought off, inspired by the possibility of circumstance and what could be around the next corner. Each of us, bringing with us a reputable set of skills to talk with us on the path of adventure and success.

We had Gronhiem, a brilliant merchant, who possessed more greed than evergreens do needles, a man lost too soon to his devices. Vall Nailo, a strange man of few words, keen senses and fatal arrow. Rae’il the mystery, sharp with abilities so whimsical and extraordinary, that you will undoubtedly have a hard time believing as you read on, but I assure you the afterlife is no place for jest nor extravagance. Rudulphas, my closest friend, kind, brave, stalwart, truly everything one would require of a warrior of valor. Well that and he was a horrendous drunk, but we can't all be perfect now can we? Then finally me, a fool of misfortune, strung along simply to tell tale and write down the important bits.

Now that you have an understanding of where the tale all started, perhaps you'll read on to future chapters so you can understand the events of my undoing. That, or I've bored you off to sleep and you'll simply toss this rubbish into the fire for a few more minutes of kindle. Like I mentioned above, if you're reading this, I'm long dead, so what do I care?