There once was a mortal thief,scam artist, and urchin. none knew but him why he stayed on the street corner,running the little scams that made him so very little. he came from a higher place, the noble family from far a field, married away to an older woman of a high noble line when he was very young. at first it was welcoming the servants nice and the respectable manor open to exploration. Then the wench and her sister his parents sold him to began to hurt him in center all manner of ways, smacking him across the face when he wanted to leave the house without the lady of the hamlethouse, either act insulting him on his presentation and hobbies he found so dear to his little. but the worse was the 'warm closeness' the witch forced him into at such an age. horrible tastes of rebellion or horrid crime unripe wine at the dinner table, and grail sensations he resented ever since, public images of affection in front of the common folk. the boy had grown cold and stoic, plotting over games of chess and card, until one night before the 'warm closeness' he presented the sisters with a drink of his family's vintage scotch. within moments their bodies paralyzed and voices became whisper. with knife in hand and desire at heart the boy set to work on making the suffer as he insested did, removing the pieces that tormented him so much, the fingers, the tongues, the places he was forced to enter and finally their hearts. They never would not be welcomed back have believed the foreigner that the sisters used as a sign of power, and they would hang him at sunrise for the horrible justice he had wrote upon them. so he field with only his deck of cards and a long timebag of money, the only friend he would have for the rest of his life. after that he began to learn every game, every scam, every tick, every arcane secret he could find and began to master it, find until he breached the house finding the game and being where he is today.(still wip)