My father Aekkall owned and managed a small clothing shop along with his wife, my mother, Stethra. We lived above the shop there for as long as I could remember; pa was always working on the shop, ma left to keep the family together and fed.
 
 
when i was 6, my folks had another child, Tifru, my little sister. most of my memories of childhood start here; our family lived a quiet and peaceful life. we were never very wealthy, but we never went hungry.
 
 
I had been working for my father at his shop in my teens, hoping one day to own a store of my own. I had been sent off to a boarding school but was quickly dismissed after getting into a number of schoolyard fights.
 
 
I had become quite listless in my work for my father as I turned 19. My sister had recently gone away to a boarding school, and my mother was busy raising my new little brother, Rekr, who was now 2. My father was becoming increasingly unreliable, leaving me to run the day to day aspects of the shop while he spent more and more time playing dice and drinking spirits.
 
 
His gambling and drinking abruptly caught up with him when he lost the shop to a stranger in the tavern. He luckily had enough sense to keep a small amount of funds handy, which he was able to use to buy a one room shack in the outskirts of town, outside the wall.
 
 
After helping my family relocate, I headed to the tavern to try to learn what happened, but got very few details. noone had seen the cloaked human on the island before, and he had apparently gone off to the harbor and boarded a ship that very evening. A week after we discovered the shop had been re sold to a local brewer, who was very tight lipped about the transaction, but claimed that he did not know anything about the human who sold him the deed to the land.
 
 
I then inquired about any work that could be done, as I was now jobless. He smirked and informed me of a hulk of a man who owed some debts. He seemed quite surprised when I returned a few hours later, coin in hand, looking fairly beaten and winded. He agreed to pay me a meager daily salary for me to be his new strongarm; which occasionally had me shaking down drunks for their tabs, but mostly kept me relaxing in a seat by the door, grog in hand to make sure the peace was kept when things got rowdy.
 
 
There, I met Quint Bitterwart, a regular performer at the pub, who helped introduce me to some less than honorable contacts who began to pay me good money to keep quiet and act as a private guard at the docks whenever certain vessels from a particular trading company came to port. I was soon able to just afford my own dwelling space within the city walls, giving any extra money i made to my family.