“His parents..?” Matron Sherody Dale asked. “We don’t know ma’am” answered the young man sitting in the chair in front of her. She pressed on; “Well, who delivered him, Delvar?”
Delvar shifts uncomfortably in his chair before answering, “We don’t know ma’am…”
The matron sighs heavily and rolls her eyes, “How old is he?”
Delvar fishes out a note from his pocket and reads; “Actual age unknown, but estimated to be around three winters old”.
The matron nods ever so slightly before continuing; “Well… who’s paying for him? We don’t run a charity here… well… unofficially we don’t…” She gets up from her chair and fetches a ledger off a shelf to her right.
“We found fifty lions with him, I already put it in with the rest.” Delvar hands the matron a receipt.
The matron sits down and notes this in her ledger, before sitting back in her chair, thinking for a long moment; “Allright… send him to the work house.”
Delvar looks confused for a moment “But he’s a bit young to be working isn’t he?”.
The matron send Delvar a sharp look “Fifty lions cover as good as nothing… His tiny little fingers could be useful in cleaning and unclogging the wastegutters on the other hand, he can earn his keep. Start with eight hours a day, two short breaks. Three strikes with the cain if he misbehaves or stops working.”
Delvar takes a deep breath and stands “As you wish matron”, he bows out of the room, but just as he is about to close the door the matron adds with a smile as sharp as a dagger; “And Delvar…? Wish him a warm welcome to Childs Light Orphanage won’t you?”
“Nine years?” Robert thought to himself. His face covered in bruises and cuts.
He wiped his bloodied nose on his sleeve, “Nine years in this place is more than enough”.
Quietly he sneaks through the courtyard and quickly disappears through a small side-gate with metal lettering over the arc. Some of the letters are missing, spelling “Chi s Light Work Hou e”.
For days, weeks… He drifts around the dirty streets. “Old man Reylin, the trader, nearly blind these days, surely won’t notice an apple or two going missing would he?”, Robert is half hidden behind a brick wall belonging to the Dirty Mug Tavern, watching the two merchant stalls out in the street in front of it. Gaunt looking and terribly hungry, Robert sneaks up and steals some apples. Jubilant and spurred on by the taste of fresh sweet fruit he thinks to himself; “That was almost too easy…”
He watches the thugs and thieves going about their daily business in the grimey slums of Tethyr, learning their tricks of the trade. “A copper for the lady…” A shady figure whispers as he pulls a small bag off coin off a by passer. “Returns tenfold in gold” The fat thug chuckles as he is passed the bag of coin. But no matter how many times Robert whispered the prayer, he never felt like Tymora would shine her luck upon him.
“Allright, lad…” the guard looks down at him and clears his throat slightly. “How old are ye?” “Thirteen… I think” Robert mutters. “Thirteen, SIR!” the guard barks. “Given your young age, the high lords have decided to go easy on you… two moons in the dungeon, and three days at the stockade” The guard grins unpleasantly.
The metal clank and the wood creek as the guard opens the stockade, and Robert gingerly climbs out of it. With nowhere to go, and a stomach crying in pain, Robert stumbles his ways through the slums. A man dressed in grey robes takes him by the upper arm and leads him, without a word, to a small courtyard behind a book shop. “You can sleep in here, it should be safe. I will put food out twice a day, and you stop your stealing boy.” “A copper for the lady…” Robert mutters to himself and smiles for the first time in ages.
But after a month or maybe two…? Robert wakes from the sound of a crash and men yelling. The next morning, food is not put out, nor the next. “A copper for the lady….” Robert wanders back in to the slums, having learned from past mistakes, he steals his food, once again.
"These thugs are too confident.. " Robert thought to himself, watching a couple of brutes as they walk past him with a jewlery box sized wooden chest. Robert had been watching them a while, collecting coin from verious persons through out the slums, slowly filling the chest to the brim. "Any moment now.." Robert whispers, waiting in the shadows. "Aah, mornin' Nela" one of the thugs approach a woman standing outside the The Dirty Mug, flirting quite openly. The other thug, hangs back, and the moment Robert has been waiting for arrives. "What an idiot..." Robert darts forward soundlessly, the thug had for a fleeting moment set the chest down on and empty barrell. "Oi, ruddy street rat!" the thug lumbers after Robert, but even with the rather heavy chest clutched in his hands, he manges to skip out of sight after a short chase. Hiding in a hole in the wall one story up down one of the emptier back allies, he watches the thugs pace back and forth. "Yer dead kid! You hear me?!" the thug grabs an empty bottle laying around and angrily throws it at a nearby wall. "You have nooo idea.. Who that coin belong to.. You are dead kid, he'll find you".
"Heh, you know who i am kid?" the large man leans forward in his seat. His clothes have fine quality, the kind even the nobles would like to get their hands on, however they are dyed in dark gray and black, hinting at a more dishonorable line of work. "Yes..." Robert nods defiently, "I did not know the gold belonged to you". The man standing beside Robert strikes him hard across the face with the back of his hand "Yeh adress him as mr. Grey, or sir" he snarls. Robert wipes blood from his nose, but keeps his composure, and does not respond. "Oooh i know, kid... The only reason you're still alive". The man smirks, then flashes a grin in Roberts direction. "Yeh impress me, kid.. Stealing the gold, losing my guards, evading them for as long as yeh did.. And now yeh stand there like a composed man.." Derren Grey runs his fingers through his rough beard before looking to the guard beside Robert. "Clean 'im up, dress' im then bring him back to me.." The guard nods, grabs Robert by the upper arm, dragging him out of the room. "We'll have some things to discuss when yer back, kid.." Derren chuckles darkly as the door closes behind Robert.
"Yer a man now Robert..." Derren smiles down at him. Much warmer towards the young man now, than he was six years ago, when Robert first stood in front of him. "nineteen years old, and you've learned well.. I told ye you'd be rewarded for killing the traitor dwarf Dagrann" Derren pauses as some of the men around the room murmurs, claps and quietly compliment Robert "Well done lad", "good on yeh Robert". Derren grins widely, "I want ye to take over his operation with the dwarven smuglers..." There is more murmurs now, but more in shock, surprise and perhaps jealousy. "And lad, as far as i am concerned, Yer a Grey now... Wear the name proudly" Derren holdes up a glass in a toast. The men only half heartedly endulges Derren in the toast, muttering "to Robert Grey..". "Thank you, Derren.." Robert bows slightly, "I'll get right too it.." As Robert moves between the tables the crowd to get to the door, a menacing looking, sender man nudges him slightly, "You'll feck this up" he whispers. Robert smirks at the man "Serafen... Always graceful in your defeats arent you?" Robert grins and walks at the door.
The three men were standing in Derren's Office. The mood pressured and down. "So... Trex is dead...?" Darren sighs, and looks at Serafen. Serafen nods slowly and answers in his raspy voice, "Yes... we've been betrayed, Derren", he throws a quick glance at Robert, who raised his eyebrows in respons. "Accusing Robert again huh?" Derren looks grim and slightly angry at Serafen. "We need a spymaster..." Derren takes a deep breath, and moves across the room and puts his hand on Roberts should er, "you've handled the dwarves well these last few years.. I trust you to make the most of this promotion". Serafen makes an angry movement towards Robert, "You're tapping up this sack of *chickenwing*?!" "Careful Serafen.. You answer to that sack of *chickenwing* now" Derren grins slightly, "Your too temperemental...you're one of the best at what you do, you're clever and ruthless.. But we need someone with more restraint. Besides, the contacts Robert have made over the last few years will come in handy." Robert nods "I'll find out who sold us out." Derren nods grimly, "I'm counting on it."
The sound of screams, clashing of metal on metal and orders being barked surrounded Robert. Bodies were scattered every where, friends, accociates and the occational city guard. Robert, looking like an adult man now, was panting, fighting for his life, confused, "How in the hells did they find us?!" he mutters under his breath to himself. A door to his left burst open, and a guard falls through it, throat slit. Serafen steps out with a bloodied dagger in his hand, he catches Roberts eyes, "Derren is dead, they are all dead, lets get out of here... We'll Split up, I'll meet you by the camp outside of town." Robert nods and darts out an open window.
Sitting on a log in the camp on the fortest edge outside of town, Robert watches as the city grows quiet... Serafen never shows. After a few hours Robert realizes he needs to flee, he cannot go back, they will be looking for him now. "A copper for the lady, hmph..." Robert throws his Tymora coin in to the old ashen camp fire, and makes his way in to the dark fortest.
For years Robert travelled, through forests, towns, villages and cities. Occationally doing some shady work for easy coin, befrending the odd animal in the forests, teaching himself to hunt and survive in the wild. Eventually he found himself standing at the border of cormyr, with promise of adventure and coin to be found.
Making his way in to greatgaunt with great optimism. Taking a few odd jobs around town, Robert decided to rid one of the local farms of rats. Rather stupidly, Robert was bitten by a vicious rat, and contracted a disease. Without the coin to pay the Temple, Robert sat down in the square looking sickly and gaunt. A woman, Arika Kessel, told him she'd rid him of his disease, if he'd help her friend get out of her shy shell for a little while. She pointed at a woman sitting with a group of friends by a table. And Robert was sold.
"A farm house... A couple of chickens, some cows.." Robert grinned at her. Hadriane grinned back and wrinkled her nose. The spectacle of the greengrass festival was going on around them, Robert had finally rid himself of the awfully unfitting tunic provided, that had ripped when he was dunked during one of the events.
A few weeks later, Rika Jerna suggested that the three of them and Alsolfo Furioso should help clear out a crypt that had been plagued with the undead. The ever talented Rika had learned some new spells she wanted to give a try, but... Things did not go well.
Rika cast a spell she did not know too well, Hadriane was caught in it, and in front of Roberts eyes, ripped to shreds... In shock and before he had time to react, Rika had put her back together again. But she was not the same... As Robert went to check on her, he touched her arm and in a rage fuled by confusion and panic, she struck him down. Brought back to life by the quick to react Alsolfo, a confused and shocked Robert was told what had happened. Desperate and despairing, Robert went to search for Hadriane, before she would come to harm
Somehow, through a long time of struggle, Hadriane and Robert found back to eachother eventually. Rika... Was not so Lucky.. Her mind warped by her actions, had aquired a shadow over it.
Robert was wandering the outskirts of suzail, looking for a suitable place to possibly build a house, a ring glinting on his finger now, the sun playing off it.
After a while he happened upon an adventurer, planning to rid the area of ogres. Robert offered to help. As they were about to enter the troll cave, a third adventurer showed up. Something felt wrong about the newcomer thought Robert. The two adventurers knew eachother, and before Robert knew it, one of them had summoned an undead, and the adventurers commanded him in to the cave. Robert refused, offering to leave the two to their business. When they refused to let him go, Robert was forced to fight, and was easily disposed of by the two, and the undead creature.
Robert, laying dead upon the ground had a faceless skull carved in to his chest, and was then kicked off the cliff and in to the river... Floating on the gentle stream, his body lifeless and desacrated, eyes open but empty, he is slowly being washed towards the city of suzail...