Fhenrir

Fynne the Lesser

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"Psst. Hey, baby, over here. Buy you a drink? Name's Jaume Fynne. You can call me Jaume. Want to hear a little story, chock full of secrets? Sure you do. Oh sorry, don't mind my clumsy hands falling all over. I've had a couple drinks, but it's nothing. Plenty of fresh Blackrock Coffee in a heated thermos at the hip, I'll be good as new in no time. *glug*

So listen, I grew up in the really terrible parts of Stormwind. Parents took a dirt nap when I was little, but I hear they weren't the kinda folks who'd look out for their progeny anyway. Y'know? Anyway, grew up in the terrible parts I did. Had to get real good at sneaking around to find my way. Had a real good time of it though. Got to know a lot of backsides that way, know what I mean? Heh, course you do.

Right, so I got real real good at generally being a crafty kinda guy. You ever heard of Henri Fynne by the way? No? It's cool, he was a really talented kinda guy himself. Got a rep in the Horde as a lady-killer and a straight up killer, feel me? Ran with the First Legion for a long time back in their hayday. Played a pivotal part in the various assaults on the Black Temple in the Outland. He's my little cousin. Got to spend a lot of time together whenever I found my way out to Goldshire. His parents offered to help me out when they found out my Ma had died, being good and decent folk to look after their family's only kid. I declined though, since I didn't wanna be away from the city. But yeah! Henri Fynne's older, wiser cousin here in the flesh. When we ran together way back in the day folks called him Fynne the Lesser and me, Fynne the Greater. I never saw it that way though. Henri was a real class act. He deserved everything good he got and none of the bad. Thankfully he's off living a quiet life with his lovely paladin lady now, Jilli-something. They were always meant to be together I'd say.

So I grew up in the crappy parts of Stormwind and got really good. I mean really good. Started to get a huge reputation, a bit of a following around Stormwind. They called me the "Caped Crusader," though I never wore a cape. Think they just liked the sound of it. Anyway, I got job offers left and right. The Night Watch out in Darkshire wanted me, the Stormwind Royal Guard asked after me, Edwin Van Cleef and his boys were desperate for me, even SI:7 was clamouring for a chance to get my expert hands. Also, forgive the vulgar euphemism, but Lady Katrana Prestor was just aching for a ride. Never took her up on it though; woulda been too messy in court.

But nah, none of those opportunities really leapt out at me. I knew I was more of a "do it yourself" kind of adventurer. I wanted to take my considerable talents somewhere you could really feel the wind in your hair and appreciate the little things. I took up a sailor's life and sailed around the world, breaking hearts and making millions. You know how it is; being a ship's Captain is hard work, but the crew just kinda fell in under my command. We were really some of the best there were.

We were attacked by one of the largest sea creatures you'd ever lay eyes upon one day. I barely had time to pull up my pants and give the fair young deckhand a loving kiss before the ship started rocking twice as hard as we'd been makin' it. I got to the wheel in time to see the leviathan crashing and thrashing against the ship like it had a personal vendetta. I could only save so many of the crewman from the very jaws of death before things took an ugly turn. The short version is that the ship capsized and took us all under with it. But I wasn't gonna let this thing take us down and get away unscathed. I leapt onto the thing's cranium-you know what a cranium is? It's the thing's head-and took both eyes with both daggers. It wept for mercy, but I had none after it took my crew. It swam through the water at what must've been over a thousand knots an hour, trying to shake me off, but I slayed the beast and kept a tooth as a memento. See this necklace? Tooth is one of the thing's baby molars from the back. Anyway, as it died, I realized I was stranded. Luckily there was an island nearby or I woulda had to make my peace with God right then and there.

I spent days on that little island before the next crazy thing happened. I was happened upon by some pandas, wouldn't you know it? They were monks, and they decided in their benevolence and wisdom to take me under their wing. So I spent some number of years learning the whole tranquility and peace song and dance from them. Really good folks. More recently when the new-and-improved Alliance found its way to Pandaria I had the chance to reunite with them. I didn't get to stay long before I was out sailing the seas again, this time as a freelancer for Booty Bay. Met some nice booty along the way there, eh? Eh? Haha, you got me.

So I just got back recently and decided it was time to enlist with the proper authorities. Things got dicey out in Booty Bay and it occurred to me that maybe I oughta serve a higher purpose in life for a little while. Look out for the Alliance and take a few shots at anyone that'd screw with us, Horde especially. You know those barbarians put a personal hit out on my cousin Henri? You know they want to kill anyone with the Fynne name? I been through a lot, but it could be trouble for me out on missions for the proper and good folks here at Stormwind. Could be my last night any time, never again to return to the loving and kind atmosphere around here. Risky as it is, though? It's definitely worth it. Only hesitation is the idea that my last night will be a forgettable one.

You wanna help me stave off that grim chance and make it a night to remember?"

Jaume sat across from a night elven woman, rattling off his story without giving the slightest chance for response. There had been an amused smirk on her expression since he sat down-which he'd mistaken for an invitation-that kept him talking. She listened and waited, and when he finished, finally took the time to laugh at him. Her laughing grew more and more hysterical, and Jaume had no idea how to react.

"So... that a yes?" he finally asked.

"You..." she started, laughed again, and wiped away a tear. "You dumb bastard, Jay Timberwood. You just saw the first pair of tits in the bar and let loose? Look at my face. Really look."

Jaume stopped and took the chance to scrutinize her - more than her body this time. "I'll be damned... Alowa?" the woman he'd sat across from was an old friend. If anyone knew how full of it he was, it was her.

"Going by Jaume Fynne now, huh? Trying to ride your older cousin Henri's name to some starry-eyed doe's bedroom?"

"Not entirely," Jaume said with a smirk. "I'm also trying to get proper dues from the Alliance."

They shared a laugh and a drink. They caught up, this time without any lies. Both appreciated the company, and neither of them minded that Jaume had tried to lie his way into her pants. Both of them were compulsive liars around almost anybody else.

"Glad to see you back. Good luck with that 'Fynne the Lesser' business, Jay." Alowa got up to leave.

"Ah ah." He waved a finger. "It's Jaume now."

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