Fezzick
Fezzick
When the party found Fezzik in the dark tunnels beneath Cair Cain’s basement, he was a mere shadow of his former self. Once a proud adventurer and skilled dungeoneer, the horrors he faced in that place had shattered his mind.
His thick leather armor—dyed a deep blue and studded with silver—was slashed and torn in several places. The white shirt beneath was filthy and ragged, while his pale blue cloak, scorched and tattered, barely concealed the tin hammers embroidered across its back. His thick brown hair was disheveled and matted with sweat and grime. Dried blood streaked his cheek from a gash above his right eyebrow, and his hands were stained as well. A hand crossbow dangled uselessly from his belt, its string snapped.
The party brought him back to Dwarrowdwelf, where he began the slow process of recovery. Though he has yet to speak of what truly happened in those tunnels, his silence speaks volumes.
The next time they saw him, he looked markedly improved—a fresh shirt, courtesy of Mary, and a good wash had done wonders. But despite the cleaned face and calmer demeanor, his eyes still held a haunted look—echoes of fear and sorrow that linger just beneath the surface.
Children
