Mavrius was raised in a wealthy family, very loyal citizens and worshipers of Wyvrun - and he hated it. He hated being treated differently simply because of his parent’s wealth; and he hated his parents, for pampering him with everything available - but the boy simply dealt with it, living with the fancy clothing and tight mannerisms, pretending to believe that it was possible to achieve ‘Thill’al’, or complete purity, as his people saw it. His life was simple and easy - meaning he had hours of spare time for his parents to teach him how to play every instrument under the sun. And he didn't consider how lucky he was until his life became complicated. Mavrius found a lover at the age of forty-seven, and in his eyes, she was the only woman on the planet that mattered. While others spit at him for his pointed ears and ungratefulness for what he had, she cared not for his looks, and treated him like any other man on the street - even ignoring his family's large fortune. He did not tell his parents about his love, fearing they would despise his decision to love a peasant. Instead, he snuck out into the darkness each evening, staying silent and avoiding other's vision to reach her. One fateful night, however, she wasn't anywhere to be found, the gritty alleyway empty and silent. Mavrius waited patiently for hours on end, before finally accepting that she would not be arriving. The boy groggily followed the path to her small thatch-roofed household, each footstep seeming to echo in the dead city. Humming quietly to himself, he clambered up the wall of the first floor, which was a storefront to keep the income flowing, and inched open the shutters to her room. Mavrius slid in-between the gap, landing on the floor with a dull thud. "Evanl-" He cried out, though his voice cut off midway through the statement, his eyes wide with horror and despair. Falling to his knees, his mouth agape, the boy's gaze halted on the corpse of the most important woman in his life, a knife plunged deep into her chest. Of course, the logical explanation was suicide - but the shattered door from suggested otherwise. In a fit of rage and sadness, he ran away. Mavrius sprinted as far and fast as he could away from the town, his eyes filled with salt and tears. And when he opened them, his surroundings were filled with green - the underbrush and trees of a vast forest embracing him. He strongly debated turning back - but what did he have to go back to? Mavrius had no idea how to survive in the wilderness, having lived a life of pleasure up until then. After two days of stumbling around, his stomach growling and mouth parched, he came across an old dwarf and a goblin, weathered by the wear and tear of the endless march of time. His vision filled with hallucinations and his stomach empty, he trudged towards the two - and before he knew it, he had a dagger at his throat, the goblin staring deep into his eyes with disgust. He was quickly stripped of all of his valuables, and as the two prepared to leave him, Mavrius cried out, claiming that he would be their servant, and cater to their needs in exchange for helping him out of the forest. The pair stubbornly agreed, though they bound his hands with rope to prevent him from attempting any funny business. Slowly, he learned more about them as time went forward - their names were Thaodin and Dryc; or so they said. They were thieves, who had been short on money as of late - and could use his help, if not only as a distraction. When they finally into the city, the three quickly darted down a back alley and into a nondescript wooden door. The room was is shambles, appearing to have suffered through years of use and water damage - though it was still usable. A torn map lay on a single table in the center of the room, several squat stools scattered about. At a closer glance, the layout of the city was sketched on the piece of parchment, a knife stuck into a larger building on the upper left corner of the map. Mavrius was armed with a dagger, three throwing knives, and a cloak, afterwards given a short debrief of his task. They were to steal the fortune of one of the wealthiest men in town, and afterwards assassinate him - Mav's duty was to create a lot of noise, and try not to be killed. Before he could blink, the boy was shoved out the door, and told to wait until dusk. As soon as the sun dipped below the horizon, an orange glow thrown across the buildings, a crow cried out - the signal they had decided on earlier. Mav stumbled about uncertainty, eventually ending up in front of the manor of choice, his nerves strung taunt and uncertainty tainting his mind. A shadow wavered in the corner of his vision - Thaodin, a dagger clutched in his calloused hand. Mav nervously knocked on the door, afterwards slinking into the darkness and carefully scaling the building next to the manor. As the door slowly inched open, Thaodin and Dryc silently crept around the building, diving into a window after carefully wedging it open. According to what they said, the task would only take about two or three minutes - meaning he had a few minutes to distract the residents of the household. He picked up a few rocks, and jumped onto the rooftop of the manor, purposely letting his landing reverberate throughout the roof tiles. The boy tightly gripped the edge of the roof, swinging into a window that shattered on impact. He had made sure to land in the attic, knowing that Thaodin and Dryc would be focusing on the lower floors of the building. Tossing a rock down a nearby hatch with as much force as he could, he jumped up, grabbing onto the rafters of the ceiling and carefully pulling himself up on top of them. As a large, burly man came lumbering into the attic, he remained as silent as possible - though it seemed to him like his heavy breathing and heartbeat could be heard for miles around. Waiting with patience until the opportunity presented itself, he brandished a dagger in his hand. When the man walked under his current position, he dropped down onto his shoulders, shoving the dagger into his neck without thought. But as he fell to the ground, tumbling off of the man's shoulders, Mav was horrified to find blood on his hands - blood that wasn't his own. Where had he gone wrong? He began to curse himself, but quickly regained his composure. The murderer of his lover was to blame - the person who had ruined everything for him. And he would do anything to track the man down and make sure he died - whether it be of old age or by his own hand. Later that night, celebrating their success in a tavern, he caught word of the power to talk to the dead - and to ask them five questions. If he was able to gain this power, he may be able to find the murderer. Filled with motivation, years went on, and Mav continued to carry out crimes with Thaodin and Dryc. He accumulated stories as time marched forward, and Mav earned a bit of extra coin for himself each night by performing in the tavern. But one day, he found himself standing alone. Dryc had inevitably died, his old age causing his downfall, and Thaodin had moved on to a different town, claiming that they had bled this one dry. It was a shame - he had grown close enough to them to call them family; but now he had nothing binding himself to the town. And with that, he left in search of the power to speak to the dead, and in pursuit of his lover's killer. Years past, and eventually he caught up with the man, thanks to various detectives across the land. He was murdered, at his own hand – and suddenly Mavrius was left a shadow of his former self, having achieved revenge. He thought he would feel satisfied with the man gone...but he simply felt empty. In search of purpose, Mav departed, traveling the world in search of something more.
