The Past and Mr Marsh

Karl Marsh sits in his customary table in the common room of the Scarlet Knuckle, the stench of blood and sour ale and gods knew what else permeating the place.  His hair is dark, save for the hints of gray at the temples, and kept short.  A Halfling name of Kiggins Petson sees to it periodically with a blur of scissors and a grin for one of the few humans who stood up for him and his kin.  Although Karl is known as a hard-case among the folk in and around the tavern, among the diminutive race he is known as Ard deartháir - Tall Brother in the Halfling tongue.

Rumors swirl around Marsh like the smoke rings of a gnomish pipe.  Though older, maybe in his 40s, he bears himself as a warrior. At the very least, the blue-gray eyes of his tell a history of fighting and of deep pain.  Local cut-purses say he peels you like an onion with them.  Most think that enough, electing not to know what he can do with the sword at his hip.

Ah, that sword.  You'd think Marsh had mowed down a dozen would-be troublemakers with it to hear the stories it spawns.  Claims he is an assassin of such reputation that even those who call the local underworld home only call on him in desperation. 

"How can he be an assassin?"  some would ask in a whisper.  "I ain't heard of 'im."

"Exactly!"

Perhaps less ridiculous rumors - at least more believable - is that Marsh may be a disgraced lord, forced to shave his beard and exiled to the Fen.  Or he may be a fallen paladin.  Looking at his sword, perhaps the emblem on the pommel could quash the stories and squeeze out truth.  But none are willing to get close enough to see nor bold enough to ask without enough ale in them.

He doesn't do anything to correct the rumors.  In the long run they help him maintain a quiet life in the middle of the Admiral's Fen, which is all he wants.  The occasional lending of his presence to quell difficulties in the tavern even keeps him on the slim good side of the owner's notorious ill temper.

It also means he stays several steps ahead of a past he's spent a long time forgetting.

But like so many things in the Fen, hopes and dreams can be quickly swallowed by the swamp.  Karl Marsh already started breaking his own rules by getting involved in the schemes of a Halfling named Linkah.  The industrious fellow is close to sealing a deal to free himself and his comrades from the clutches of a deviously crafted ship contract.  But it means dealing with a man in Dog's Teeth Karl would just assume avoid.

Even worse, he won't be helping the halflings alone...