Damien walked along the long grass fields of Antric heading towards Ferdham.  His hood was left down and his face reached up to absorb the sun.  His fine elven features and tanned skin relished the sunlight that his people had grown to love.  He was a sun elf, though you might not know by the way he dressed.  Damien wore a black hooded cape and gray travelers apparel, with many pockets.  A shortbow casually rested over his shoulder, positioned nicely aside the modified quiver of arrows. The quiver had been shortened and thinned so allow freedom of movement if the Elf ever decided to enter a crawl space.  In his line of work, maneuverability and speed were key ingredients to success.  Across his chest was a strap of containing 6 daggers, his only melee weapons.

As he stared, close eyed, into the sun he thought back on his life.  He was the eldest son of a fairly wealthy couple.  His father, Illyard, was a tall slender elf.  He was a decently ranked politician who dedicated his life to his work, more so then his loving wife Kirani.  Kirani was a beautiful elf who was more then a well-established wizard.  She took Daemonthaelsul, Damien’s elven name, to her laboratory every day and worked her magic for him.  He was a very bright young lad, a genius in the eyes of his mother.  He quickly picked up on basic cantrips and eventually learned to maneuver the weave of magic to his liking. 

Damien remembered how the thrill of his magic was second to no other feeling then that of a freshly stolen coin.  When he wasn’t with his mother Damien was out in the city robbing his fellow elves blind.  He was drawn to stealing and loved his magic so he learned how to combine both his great loves together.  He learned to use his magic to aid himself in grand schemes.  The wonderful harmony of magic and stealth was intoxicating and it would eventually lead to him being cast out from his elven homeland. 

Illyard returned home one day to find his son looking over his day’s profits.  There was no question that the property was stolen and both son and father battled verbally over this four hours.  Illyard demanded that his son leave their home and never return.  “I’ll not have a thief in this household, nor will I ever wish to see you in this realm again!”  Illyard knew that if word got out about his son being no more then a petty thief, he would be ruined.  It would destroy his career and he could not have it.  Daemonthaelsul agreed to leave and kissed his mother’s forehead.  Illyard refused to even look at the boy, sneering to himself. 

Damien changed his name that day and realized that it would be humans that would fill his pockets.  The mongrel race would never be able to pronounce his true name so a change was necessary.  He entered human society by way of the capital of Antric, Furemil.  He found residence with what little coin he was able to take with him.  Damien then set about bending the city to his will.

Damien lived in Furemil for nearly ten years before he realized that he must leave.  A freelance thief is the bane of any guild of thieves.  He was not the type to follow orders so joining such a guild was out of the question.  When he was finally spotted by some guild members he had a choice to make.  He could either leave the city and count his losses, find another city to live in and start over, or…he could try to survive knowing full well that his life was in jeopardy.  Damien opted to leave Furemil. 

The elf lowered his head from the sun to look ahead as he walked.  Ferdham was right in view.  He could see the houses in great detail so he increased his pace to a jog.  As he reached the town limits the elf slowed and let his green eyes take in the town for what it was worth.  He walked a bit down the central road unimpressed by what he saw.  Eventually he entered a tavern and took a seat alone.  It was somewhere in between drinks that he overhead an interesting conversation.  A half giant was talking to what appeared to be an elf, half elf, three humans, and perhaps a halfling.  The short robed figure kept his face well hidden under his hood.  This caused Damien to smirk as his hood had been pulled over his head before entering the tavern as well. 

The big half giant spoke about treasure and a knight’s lost gear.   Damien’s eyebrows rose at the thought of the gold that could be made. One of the humans mentioned that there might be traps in said dungeon and Damien formed an idea.  He would finish his meal and follow this odd group to wherever this so called treasure was.  He would offer his trap finding skills for a cut of the gold.  With so many able bodies, he didn’t expect he would have to fight anything.  And the half giant would surely scare away most enemies.  All I gotta do is find a few traps and I’ll get paid.  Easy work…and a bit of adventure.  Sounds delicious.  Nearly ten years living with human had changed his way of speaking.  He still had a thick accent when speaking common, but he now spoke more like a human then an elf.

Damien followed the group when they finally left on their journey.  He kept a good amount of distance between them and more then once had to rely on his magic to conceal him.  The group had decided to make camp and before he decided to make his appearance he noticed that something was wrong.  He stayed hidden and watched as the group drew forth their weapons and battled an unseen enemy.  Damien waited patiently for the right time to present himself.