It all began when I was quite young, and making my way as an all purpose assistant to anyone with work. I would fetch tools for local craftsmen, carry deliveries between tradesmen, and carry messages for anyone with coin. It was this last one that got me into trouble.

I had just sent home whatever coin I had saved up, and was walking towards the temple, where I was allowed to stay the night, provided I didn't cause any trouble. I really wanted to visit the tavern, but I had a bad habit of drinking away all my coin whenever I stayed at the inn.

"Message for you, sir." The voice was female, and its owner was likely only a few seasons older than I was. Her hair was tied back in a sensible braid, and she wore simple cloth garments that every courier seemed to. She smiled at me distractedly, waiting for me to take the folded and wax sealed parchment from her outstretched hand.

-

Later that evening I sat in the local tavern drinking a bottle of mead. The flickering of the hearth cast shadows over the few villagers in the room, drinking and pressing the bard into playing the same traditional tunes over and over again.

However, my mind was otherwise occupied, thinking about the contents of the strange letter I had received. It had been blank. The wax had no discernible imprint in it and the paper itself was completely untarnished. The courier who had delivered the letter was gone by the time I realized, and it had me concerned. I decided to stay at the inn, so I could lock my door that night.

A few hours later, my head buzzing pleasantly and my coin purse disappointingly empty, I relaxed into the stiff inn mattress and fell asleep, the letter falling out of my relaxed fingers. If my slumber seemed deeper than normal I attributed it to the drink, and thought nothing of it until the following morning, which would change my life forever.

-

"You are a Courier now. You represent us honorably, do our work faithfully, and we ensure that you lack for nothing."

The nondescript Nord finished his explanation, and I wondered what I'd gotten myself into. Waking up in a strange room, in a town several hours travel from my previous location had been disconcerting, to say the least. However, as I had been instructed by the Nord in front of me, it was good to practice remaining neutral in the face of the different, the frightening, and (quite frankly) the bizarre.

I turned away from the nord at his dismissing nod and left the building with my new unmarked, waterproof canvas bag at my side. It was now filled with letters addressed to different people in varying cities and towns. Coming out of the unremarkable inn, I had to squint at the sun; the orientation and initiation had taken a surprisingly short amount of time for what I'd learned.

I was now a member of a mysterious and, to its new initiates, nameless organization.

The edge of town approached quickly and I came to the first delivery I had to make. An old widower at the edge of town was receiving a letter from her son in another town. I had only carried it from the inn, where someone had dropped it off in a hurry, to her door, but there were more letters that I would have to carry much farther so I didn't mind the short delivery.

I smiled at the elderly woman who answered the door.

"I've been looking for you. Got something I'm supposed to deliver. Your hands only."