Fredrinn

“Be darling and pour me a glass of your signature drink,” the drunken bum insulted the bartender. “And I’ll tell you the truth about that bastard Fredrinn!”

The people of Los Pecados had long memorized stories about Fredrinn, but his name was still like a siren's call, drawing all who heard it to its source.

“Two shots for our good friend,” said a young smuggler, throwing a handful of pennies on the counter.

"Ahh, very good gentleman. I'll make it worth your while while I assure you. This one is something you'll never have heard of!" Exclaimed the tramp.

Everyone in the bar had their eyes on the filthy tramp, except for the man who was drinking alone in the hidden corner, a compass clutched tightly in his hand.

“The story begins over a dozen years ago,” the tramp began, looking surprisingly sober after taking a sip of his drink. "After receiving his fiefdom, Duke Vance of Castle Grandrock opened the sea trade route to Northern Vale. Merchant ships coming from the north... all laden with rare goods... and all trading exclusively with the Duke. Well, the old weasel was practically bathing in profits!"

The tramp took another sip, looking around at the greasy faces waiting impatiently for more.

“But wealth and prestige brought little pleasure to the Duke,” he continued. "If anything, this new wealth only awakened in him an even greater desire: to climb to the top of the imperial nobility. The Duke began to discipline his children with strict rules, punishing any child who dared to disobey his words."

"For once, I'm damn glad I'm not the son of a rich moron!" the smuggler intervened.

“Yes, and you wouldn’t be alone,” replied the tramp. "One of Vance's boys gave the Duke a never-ending headache. This youngster had no interest in the rules and etiquettes of nobles, and had a desire for freedom and adventure. The Duke didn't want this kid's bad ideas to infect the minds of the other children. So, he arranged for the boy to study at the Monastery of Light."

“Quite a practical excuse to make fun of the monastery’s archbishop!” the bartender intervened.

“Well, you would be right,” replied the tramp. "As the Duke was in dire need of stronger political allies. The boy, however... had other plans. Having heard his father's arrangements, the little rascal decided to sneak out of the castle and embark on his own adventure."

“I don’t think the Duke would have much to fear, though,” the smuggler interjected again. “A spoiled little brat like him, he would soon go back to his daddy!”

“Yes, the duke understood that,” replied the tramp. “Old Vance was really mad, but he didn’t even bother to look for his boy!

"The kid, however, turned out to be much tougher than his father expected. He was not an adventurer, mind you; but through his courage, wit, and excellent judgment, the boy managed to overcome every obstacle that came his way. He had a particular penchant for exploring the most dangerous areas yet unexplored by man.

"And soon, his name spread throughout the Land of Dawn. Yet no one knew about his past life."

The tramp paused for a long time, as if waiting for a response. But all he got were blank faces and glassy eyes.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me…” he grumbled with a sigh and a roll of his eyes. "The boy was Fredrinn... Fredrinn Vance!"

His revelation was met with a new round of silence. But when his audience caught on, the tavern erupted into an uproar.

"Fredrinn...a nobleman!? Why, that punk is a damn crook!" A burly man with a horned helmet, his eyes bulging, they almost popped out of their sockets.

“No one knows this money scammer better than me!” the man exclaimed. "No matter what you prepare in advance, the leech will always demand a higher price. Well, a gang leader himself barged into his store to personally deliver his payment, a loaded gun pointed right between Fredrinn's eyebrows. The bastard didn't even flinch...and instead demanded more money!"

The young smuggler raised his hand. "But is it true what they say about him? 'A no-questions, no-disclosure policy' about his valuation of hunted treasures?"

“Yes,” the burly man replied. "No matter who you are, this scoundrel sticks to his guns. It is not possible to compel him, not even by force. What are you going to do, attack his treasure shop? Then prepare to be beaten - according to the customs of Los Pecados. And if you are lucky enough to wake up, all damaged items must be paid for in double, not a single penny less - "

“Come on, we all know about this!” cried the tramp, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "But what about Fredrinn's secret!? That crystal lodged in his chest—"

The crowd fell eerily silent, only to erupt into wild cheers moments later. Even the bartender poured the tramp another shot to get him to talk. "The crystal is said to come from the ruins of a lost civilization. It seals an ancient power coveted even by the King of the Abyss. Fredrinn went to great lengths to get his hands on this crystal, even killing his own partner in the process..."

The man sitting in the corner approached, interrupting the wanderer's words.

His muscular figure towered over everyone in the tavern. His eyes burned with disdain as he looked at the lesser men around him. Embedded in his scarred chest, right where his heart was, a strange crystal pulsed with a ghostly glow.

"F-F-Fredrinn..." the tramp and the burly man stuttered in awe.

The tin wine box in Fredrinn's hand creaked as his fist clenched.

"A wonderful story, my friend," Fredrinn said calmly. “However, if I hear someone say that I killed my partner again… I will come to their door and give them a thorough assessment.”

Fredrinn walked out of the bar after those words, his blood and his memory coursing through him.

The astute and revered treasure appraiser of Los Pecados was once a passionate and adventurous boy who wanted to escape his noble status. There was always a friend at his side who was ready to do anything with him… Fray.

Except Fray was gone.

During their last adventure together, the two came across an ancient altar. A giant crystal hovered at its center, radiating an ominous glow.

Fray warned his partner, but the young and reckless Fredrinn could not escape the lure. He approached the altar and placed his hand on the crystal, thus disturbing the balance of an ancient protection.

A ghostly figure dressed in a black cloak emerged from the center of the altar.

“…You two will be the final offering”

These were the last words Fray and Fredrinn heard before the altar began to collapse under the weight of ancient magic, trapping them in the middle of the chaos.

“Fredrinn…this time it’s my turn to save you…”

Fray, who had always been hiding behind Fredrinn, picked up a shard of crystal and pressed it against Fredrinn's chest, giving him the only chance of survival. The crystal's power integrated with Fredrinn's and protected him from collapse. But when he looked up, he found Fray and the ruins gone without a trace. The only thing left was Fray's magic compass.

Fredrinn found a new quest the moment he opened the compass. The blue pointer recorded Fray's life trace. It spun wildly and vibrated like tiny heartbeats.

Fray is still alive!

To search for clues that could help locate Fray, Fredrinn remained in Los Pecados as a treasure appraiser. He has accumulated his funds to build a vast intelligence network gathering all knowledge related to the ruins.

The cost didn't matter.

Standing in front of a wall of clues, Fredrinn looked at the magic compass in his hand.

"As long as the pointer is ticking, I will not give up."