Ethain Rivellon's earliest memories are the darkness of the Empire’s underground passages and the reassuring steel of a blade. He remembers no family, warmth, or kindness even from the Creator. Instead, the clink of stolen gold and the security of a wall at his back are all the kinship he has ever craved. Kept alive only by his quick wits and deft thievery, Ethain scraped out a living in the seedy underbelly of Oren. His tedious marauding marked him by a guild revered in the slums, and have sent others to dispatch to him with a demand: to become a loyal guard or be left moping on the streets. He left the bodies of his pursuers dumped in lakes as his response.
The notoriety grew increasingly frequent until one assailant met Ethain blade-for-blade in a match of strength. To his surprise, Ethain was disarmed and facing down his executioner's sword when the assassin was struck by an arrow seemingly from houses on the side. Swiftly, he arose and fled the scene framing a simple butcher; the only type of orders he could respect were from one he could not defeat- no poor destitute would. No one would disturb him further.
Ethain remained in the shadows thought to have been killed alongside the other assassin. By a helping man, he borrowed the name Ethain. From then carrying out a petty thief's life. Though, as poverty vanished, he considered claiming his freedom from the rogue’s career as there was no elation in secrecy or delight of stealing furthermore; now only a boy roaming the streets looking for pretention and comfort.
