I did not have an easy childhood, born as I was in an unfashionable part of the seaport Parrius to unstable and uncommunicative parents who drank heavily and rarely spoke to me. I was unaware of my name until later in life, they just thought it was funny to keep changing it to confuse me, either that or they couldner the streets, uneducated, unwashed and unfettered. I became a delinquent, turning to crime. I pickpocketed the crowds at Parrian state occasions. I became a small-time furglewort dealer, and hung out with the colourful characters in Parriusall seems equal.
And Yet...
It all seems like a distant memory now. In fact, as I look back, itng applications of more lowly citizens. As I stare out over the city I helped create, I gain an enormous satisfaction - and it is s not just the masseuse under the table. What other mortal in history has built such a place?
The Parrian slums of my youth seem so far away now. I have a good job, I live in a city which upholds my ideals of freedom and I am an elder in a thriving guild full of the greatest characters in the land.people who tread the fine line between genius and psychopathic kleptomania with great skill. Cheerful maniacs such as my sadly absent cohort Norman and the great Boon, Zane (who foolishly left for the thieves and hit hard times), Stitch of the speech impediment and lately Ironwolf, Hellchaser and Fortinbras. And many more. Fine chaps all.
I cannot rest...there are new and dangerous challenges ahead. I did not get where I am today without making some enemies, and I daily plot their downfall. I am now big enough to teach these misguided souls the error of their ways and will do so even if it kills me. Which it probably will. But not to worry - I fear death less than the hangovers I get after nights with Tarkus in the Silver Oyster Tavern.
Written by Arkane
