Rathat Guldurnye
Roughly 5’6”, closely-trimmed beard and short hair, dark in color against pale skin, searching green eyes. Rathat Guldurnye came up on the streets of Waterdeep, where he compensated for his lack of stature with quick wits and even quicker hands. Among the other poor children, there was always a game to be played, something to be wagered. Rathat learned early how to win, and better still, how to keep his winnings when the older boys accused him of cheating, which was only sometimes true. Nonconfrontational to a fault, Rathat relied on his wits and imagination to get out of scrapes and always come out on top, even if the winnings were paltry and life was still hard.
One day, after making a hasty (albeit creative) retreat from some men who he had pushed too far at wall dice, Rathat found himself in front of Tymora’s Fancy. It captured his imagination in ways he’d never thought possible. The glitz, the glamor, and the money. Wealthy Waterdeep patrons spending dizzying amounts of money at basic table games. He grew giddy with anticipation… and realty came crashing back down. The house always wins. Better to stick to his usual street games and low-stakes gambling dens.
Rathat grew up, and grew gradually, painfully richer, always careful to hide his growing savings, which were never particularly impressive, but a far cry from his upbringing always on the edge of starvation. He’d become a seasoned gambler, even going so far as to invent his own games for the few friends he kept and the occasional rich mark who happened to sit down across from him. He got along by being everyone’s friend, nobody’s enemy, agreeable and evenhanded in the company of others. He never stuck to any particular conviction in public – that was for other people, the wealthy, the powerful, people who could afford to make enemies. Rathat just wanted to be able to collect his next payday and avoid the next beating from a sore loser. But sometimes, he’d let himself walk back down the same twisted alleyways he’d once fled down and find himself again in front of Tymora’s Fancy. The temptation was always there, but Rathat knew better. One misstep would wipe him out, a lifetime of grinding and scraping gone, in one flashy instant. The house always wins. The house always wins… so if he wanted to win, he’d have to be the house. A fire exploded in his soul like nothing he’d ever experienced before, not the hunger from going to bed without dinner because they couldn’t afford it, not the pain when an older boy broke his arm after a bad string of luck. This was his new passion, his conviction: to take all his creative energy and open his own establishment, where he didn’t have to play to win – just sit back and let the odds work in his favor.
When news arrived a few months later of a burgeoning boomtown called Mythrite, Rathat set out at once. People need entertainment and distraction, and the same enterprising spirit that makes them move to a mining community and gamble on a boomtown will cause them to risk their new wealth at cards, dice, and other games of chance. And he was going to provide it. Property would be cheap in its early years, and with a bit of luck and some imagination, two things Rathat enjoyed in spades, he’d have a basic gambling den set up in no time. And so it was, that a child of hunger and pain has set himself up with his own place in a mining community, providing affordable entertainment and watching the stakes roll in. Living in the densely packed Halberd has provided no shortage of people looking to escape their crowded tenements for an evening at his tables. He has been careful to avoid any hint of scandal, no cheating at his games; he doesn’t need to, the math is on his side. And while life is better than it has ever been, Rathat remains aspirational. One day, he’ll be able to enter the middle-classes, and begin to cater to wealthier patrons. And at night, he still feels that burning, that same fiery desire. One day, Rathat’s place would be as famous, as glamourous, and as opulent as Tymora’s Fancy. He knew it in his heart. All it would take is a bit of luck.
Wealth & Financial state
Working class
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