Weaselbyte: this is about a character I play in my campian, I've always been good at playing rouges because they and I identify well. Whether or not I can't write about them well is yet to be detremined, I can only hope that this goes well. I'm thinking about doing a drow story as well just because drow are gods among the mortal races... well, onto the attempt...

Thesk Flash Back

A young halfling not 7 year of age or so stood before an unmerciful court of the waste land council shackled and head down, his long black hair curled along the sides and fell just above his grim expression and narrow eyes. He stood convicted of theft which he could not deny as he was caught with the treasure red handed, this was his first real attempt at anything difficult other then picking pockets and he had been caught. The fact was he only broke into the church on a dare, he didn't need the goblet and it was to shoddy to fetch a good price, worse his connection to the local guild sat not twenty feet behind him.

"Swyndel Yestah!" shouted the angry judge who doubled as town priest, "you stand accused of stealing from a holy structure, the law states that regardless of age, you are to be give four years prison time, or have your hand removed, because you are so young and I am sure you do not understand the significant of what you had done, I offer you two years house arrest, and one year labor unless someone can pay your bail of 132 GP" Swyndel swallowed hard, was he so bad that this was nessisary, he was not stupid he knew what he had done, but it was a wooden goblet, no more the 4 silver in value and he could not have gotten more the six coppers.

"I..." he began, "I accept your generous offer, and only ask that the court allow me to see friends while under watch," the judge at first looked as though he would deny but his expression soffend as he looked on the boy.

"You may on the condition that I see you in church every Sunday and you read a passage of the morning lords book daily." the judge offered strenly.

"I accept..."

Current Day Calimshan

Swyndel wondered where he had gone wrong it seemed to him that his life seemed to teeter on this moment sitting in the stocks his execution only hours away, being tried for a murder he was not so sure he had not committed. What had gone wrong?

1 year and six months into punishment

Swyndel and Dreg laughed aloud as they watched roaches hand caught in a pocket not his own, for the third time that day no less.

"Let us hope you are not so out of practice my friend," Dreg joked, "the guild would never allow you to join.

Swyndel's face became the picture of seriousness, "Listen Dretch, my imprisonment ends soon but my labor begins, I will be watched even more closely we cannot allow this, I want you to ask Ritch to pay my bail once it begins it will be only 38 gold pieces. Tell him I'll pay him back if it takes my whole life."

Dregs face which on metion of his real name had become serious smiled and said, "I'll leave out that you'll out live him and remind him how good you were... but are you sure you want to be under his thumb my young friend, I'm sure you've thought this through, you are not so unwise, but still"

"Truely I wish I could think of another way but with the construction going on soon, I know they would find commen place to add more time to my labor, I would rather not work for free for the rest of my life."

Dreg stood cracking his back loudly, he was nearly three times young Swyndel's height but often had to look up to him, this halfling was wise beyond his years and know person's fool, but damned if he wasn't born to steal, had there not been the tip off about the goblet he would have gotten away with that easy and be in the guild now, lucky for roach, swyndel didn't know who squealed.

"I shall speak with him and aid you in paying him back my friend but for now you should practice your old techniques and maybe locate a weapon, a dagger prehaps..."

"I was going to take my fathers, the damned drunk will never miss it."

With that dreg bowed and left leaving swyndel to think about his future return and how he might join the guild's higher members.

6 months later

Swyndel knelt and kissed the hand of Ritch the guild master of Thrane the western city of Thesk, thanking him for paying his bail, the man had to slouch for knelling swyndel to reach his hand but smiled slightly about it.

"I suggest you get to work getting my money, you'll start in the begger's nest guarding and tolling fourteenth and one quarter street, anyone from Bresk (a rival guild) makes a move and you report there actions, try to stay out of fights, your to young to kill yet use the first bit of money to buy yourself a black cloak, (there guilds symbol for bottom rung members)"

Later That Week

Swyndel stood in the middle of the road dagger draw squared off against two 12 years old foreigners who seemed to think they were above paying any tolls, one held a make shift Sap, and the other drew a bread slicing knife.

"Stand down Swynie-pooh, I'd hate to end your career so soon," unfortunately for the tounting boy who had no intention of hurting Swyndel, Swyndel was less morally bound and quite angry at the world for the last two years, Swyndel darted forward and put his dagger in the boy's belly the hopped out of the way of the boy closing arms, the injured boy's eyes rolled back in his head and he began to fall, the boy with the Sap leapt forward and struck toward his head, Swyndel rolled to the side taking a minor hit on his leg and bolted in putting the blade into the boy's left kidney.

"Was it worth your life not to pay a two silver toll?" sneered Swyndel he picked up the boys' weapons and money sacks and kicked the injured one, "You tell anyone what happend here and I'll kill you and everyone you hold dear..."

As he walked away he shook his head hating his life now more then ever before, "why must it be today I reach my ninth year?"

Later he stepped into Ritch's office and put the money sacks and what he had collected on the table not bothering to count it, Ritch patiently counter out 3 gold 12 silver and 2 coppers, one bent. He paeed two gold to Swyndel and asked, "who did you rob?"

"Two punks felt they were above your toll, one even lost his life," with that he dropped the Sap and Knife on the table, "neither knew how to use those."

4 years later

Swyndel looked around his domain, he was only thirteen and controlled three streets in Ritch's Name and order 6 scrubs, over the years he had bought a short sword the replace his dagger only too find he wielded both at the same time easily, in his life he had ben "forced" to kill 11 people and seriously injure thirty or so more. His ruthlessness had won him a measure of respect, but he was still a child.

Now! He had a plan, first he Mageling friend Dreg would supply him with a potion to temporarily make him stronger, mush stronger, he would then enter the grave of his, great grand father, the only rish Yerstah known of. He would take the money in his tomb and use it to start his own branch of the Ritch empire. And purchase better equipment himself.

As he looked all appeared in order and the time was right so he slipped into his appointed ally were a cloaked Dreg handed him a bottle filled with very cold white liquid.

"Be careful my friend, and god speed, this day you leave the thumb of Ritch and enter greatness, I only hope you remember Dretch from the top." with that they both turned and left, Dreg to his quarters and Swyndel to the grave yard.


Weaselbyte: for the record Swyndel only stay's evil till he meets a friend later on... R&R