Squeeper Chronicles: The Legend of Ruined-Tail

By: Structure

Prologue


When I was born, No one had any idea what I was going to do. I was born an elf to a noble family. My preferred name is Squeeper, which seems to contradict nobility. But one day I had found a rat in my room. In a failed attempt to mimic the rat I said "Squeep." My mother, to shorten the story, called me a sqeeper in adoration.

I kept the name almost my entire life. The better years of my youth were spent being taught finer points of nobility; how to speak eloquently, how to calculate in arithmetical circumstances, how to read and write, etcetera. My parents, however, were unlike most nobles, who plotted and schemed against each other. My parents believed that wealth was to be shared with the less fortunate. They instilled those values into myself. My childhood lasted a good proportion in relative happiness.

Until one dismal day when my parents met with an unfortunate accident. No one knew what happened, but I heard rumors that the other nobles were jealous over the attention garnered by my parents, and that they conspired for them to meet death that day. There may have been truth to the rumor because shortly after the incident the nobles squabbled over my parents possessions, as well as my own, and I was sent out to live on the streets.

The first few days I wandering around begging for food. On some occasions I was lucky, and on others, not so much. In a short span of time I was found and taken in by the local thieves guild. They saw the potential of a noble-born amongst their guild. They taught me the valued tools of their trade; the fine art of stealth, the thrill of stealing, the challenge of picking pockets, the marksmanship of archery, the skill of sword play, the magics of alchemy. My wit and charm went along nicely with those skills. It was whispered among the guild that with enough training and practice, I might one day rise up to be a master thief. I loved the trade, but I found out that I was different than the others in many ways. I found that they cared for nothing else but gold, as such the had no passion. I loved being a thief for the thrill, the challenge, the feeling I got whenever I completed a heist. Bus as for the gold, while I did enjoy the feel of fine clothes, and the cleanliness of fine establishments, I never kept it too long, nor gave too much to the guild. But many a homeless elf would find piles of gold next to their shoddy bunks in the morning, courtesy of yours truly. I became a, sort-of- hometown hero to the poor populace. I never stole from anyone who couldn't afford it, and gave all if not more to the poor. The guild didn't like that, as they wanted more gold for themselves. I could not reconcile these differences, so I quit the guild. The guild didn't like that someone they had taken in had betrayed them, as they saw it. So with a quick pouch of gold to the right hands in the city guard, I quickly became a hunted criminal. I was no longer welcome in the land.

So, with nothing but the clothes on his back, and one small dagger, I stowed away on a ship bound to a land I had never been to, but had always heard about. This is where the adventure truly begins, in a land called Cyrodiil

My name is Anthropolis Lightfoot, and this is Ruined-Tail's story.