Born extremely sickly and weak to a noble family who cast him into the streets, it seemed Shalock Thremir was bound for a short and miserable life, not even remembered by those closest to him, much less the history books. But fate had other plans in store for Shalock, one day, as he was navigating the filthy, smog-ridden streets of his home town of Aberdeen a trio of ne'er-do-wells spotted Shalock's sickly frame and decided he would be an easy target, they quickly grabbed and dragged him kicking and screaming into a nearby alleyway. Nearby locals saw this and chose to do nothing. Isolated, Shalock's death seemed inevitable, but as he lay there, bleeding, broken, and stripped of all possessions, a plume of sickly green flames erupted from the ground in front of Shalock and out stepped a man who seemed to be of another world. This stranger was wearing a jet-black suit that seemed to be stitched together from the very souls of unfortunate mortals, as their faces seemed to slowly blend in and out of view across the fabric, his face was no less unsettling, seeming to morph between dozens of different forms, never settling long enough for any real details to register in the viewers mind. This uncanny stranger then stepped forward and spoke in a voice so soothing it instantly made Shalock forget the circumstances and listen intently, as though under a spell. The man spoke in a tongue that Shalock could not recognize, though he understood it regardless "My poor humble servant, it would seem you were cursed from birth" he paused and put a comforting hand on Shalocks shoulder "how would you like a chance to strike back against those that have wronged you? To turn the tables? To make those who have wronged you drown in pools of their own blood?" with each word Shalocks interest grew "i can give you more power than you could ever desire, all that I require is that you take my hand, lest you would prefer to rot in this alley?" Shalock felt an uncanny bloodlust wash over him, an overwhelming desire to make all those who had forsaken him pay, he quickly reached a bloodstained hand up towards the stranger, who then returned the gesture in kind. As soon as their hands met Shalock felt his wounds close as an overwhelming power rushed through him, this surge would prove too much for Shalock to handle and he quickly faded into unconsciousness. When he woke he was still in the alley, there was no sign of the stranger, instead, in his place lay a book, bound in human skin. Shalock picked up the book and saw that attached to the front cover was a note, one that simply said "nothing is free ;)"