Hubren Delmarek

Top notch bloke


Some hard blokes in the Delmarek clan have got it in mind that young Hubren ought to serve as an errand boy for the City Watch. That won’t do at all, says I at first. But the uniform’s flash and the girls go gooey over a man with a fashionable military doublet and brass buttons so shiny you could pass them off as gold. Can’t understand why. Perhaps a military commission means a wealthy widowhood to some of ‘em. Not that I care. You won’t catch Hubren at the altar, not for a dowry less than fifty thousand a year. Enough to retire early and get up to whatever I please.

My parents paid for my membership in the griffon cavalry, the commission that came with the best uniform. Also came with a bloody malicious griffon. He had some other name before, but I called him Halaster when he clipped off my servant’s left hand. A nasty sort, that griffon. I swear I’ll live to see the beast spitted and roasted before I go.

Hubren Delmarek

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