As a young man on the streets of Daerlun, I was able to survive by quickness, both of intellect, and of foot. I had the benefit of two tutors; Blackie, an old rogue who showed me how to survive on the streets, and Loremaster Martinson a Cleric of Oghma the Binder who taught me how to order my thoughts, to work with numbers, and to read and write. I met Blackie by chance one day, while freeing a baker of one of his extra morning loaves of bread. I tripped and fell over a clumsy woman’s long skirt, and would have been caught, if not for the quick thinking of that old rogue. He tripped the baker into that same woman, and scooped me to my feet, to escape down a nearby alley. A friendship was born that day over a loaf of bread sitting on a rooftop overlooking the city. Blackie began schooling me in the honorable ways of rogues. I had been living in an orphanage sponsored by the clerics to the God of Knowledge. Loremaster Martinson was my tutor there. We were required to train in a trade, in preparation for the day we might have a chance to better ourselves with work and the gaining of knowledge. I was found to be an apt pupil, able to learn several languages and to master the ability to write. These were mastered with the benefit of the good Father’s teachings. Blackie encouraged me to learn as much as I could from the Clerics. Knowledge and learning are important to cultivate for success, and often a rogues keenest weapons. Success is where I am headed, and what I have learned will be my guidebook to that end. After seeing Blackie hung by the town guards as an example to the criminal element, I vowed to make something better of myself. This Street Rat will be successful or perish in the attempt. I found my first work with a Caravan heading out of town, and back west toward Cormyr. Cormyr is the great land that my mother claimed as the land of her birth. I hope to begin my good fortunes there. So with no fanfare and short preamble thus begins my chronicles of adventure most dangerous.