Chill of the Night Breeze

[RangerDeWood]

Alright, this is my first attempt at actually posting anything on here. This is basically a background for my current PC. I hope that it will flesh out my PC for those of you who know him IC. Just a disclaimer, it is rather long. Well, I hope you all enjoy:
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"Hey! Come back here you little thief!"

The wry elven boy pays no attention to his target's yells as he darts through the busy streets, carefully dodging the guards on his escape. As he ducks into a side alley he finally slows his pace to a light jog. Once safely away from prying eyes, in one of his secret hiding places, the small elf opens the pouch that he lifted from the large shopkeeper. At first glance the elf seems to be an average teenaged boy. Upon closer examination, however, you notice that pointed ears sometimes poke out from under his shoulder-length hair which is as dark as pitch and quite messy. His blue eyes shine brightly in contrast to his pale skin and he moves with an uncanny agility.

"What!? Oh what a rip-off," he says in a hushed voice, "There is nothing in here but what," the boy counts the meager coinage, "ten coins. A crime I say."

The young elf sighs in disappointment and stuffs the pouch into an inside pocket of his vest. He proceeds to exit his alcove, carefully checking to see if the coast is clear before blending into the crowd and heading home. The hot sun beats down on the young cutpurse as he weaves his way through the throngs of shoppers and merchants assembled in the busy Suzail marketplace. Try as he might, the young boy cannot seem to shield himself from the glaring Summertide sun. He walks for what seems like hours to his ramshackle home in the city's poor district. Not three seconds after he steps inside to relieve himself of the muggy air he hears an all-too-familiar voice.

"Alright boy, whaddya have fer me today?"

At the dining table, partially hidden from the hot sun's gaze by a makeshift curtain, sits an elf that looks to be about in his middle years. His face shows signs of a long life of hard work. His coal black hair is neatly pulled back into three braids that are tied at the crown of his head before falling free down his back about to his shoulders. The young elf brushes back his rumpled hair from his face and grudgingly pulls the pouch from his vest pocket. With a quick flick of his wrist, he flings the pouch onto the table where it lands with a muffled jingle. The elder elf snatches up the changepurse and quickly examines its contents.

"Ten coins?" he states with utter disgust, "Now c'mon Zyrax, surely ye had ta've gotten more than just ten coins." The elf's face suddenly turns grim and he reaches for the dagger at his waist. "Unless ye's holdin' out on me boy."

Zyrax backs up to the door nervously. His voice is uneasy as he answers, "N-no. I would not dare to cheat you, Ja'rom. I have learned my lessons before." He looks down, ashamed, and unconsciously rubs his left side, just under his ribs.

Ja'rom grins broadly as he relaxes and drops the ten coins into his own changepurse, "Of course me boy. Now come 'ere and let yer ol' dad ask ye somethin'"

Zyrax cautiously makes his way over to the table and stands at attention in front of his father.

"Now boy, ye know why I'se been takin' all yer earnin's now, yes?"

Zyrax nods slightly, "It is to pay your dues to the guild, is it not?"

"Yeah, that's the reason me boy," Ja'rom rests his hand on the boy's shoulder and draws him closer, "How would ye like ta keep yer own earnin's from now on, huh?"

The young elf can barely believe his ears. Keep his earnings? He couldn't remember any time where his father hadn't taken his daily wage to pay off the thieves' guild or gambling habit. His head was swimming with dreams of having a full purse on his belt. A slight smile begins to play on his lips as he starts to answer.

"Of course I wou-"

"I knew ye'd like the idea," his father cuts in, "How would ye like to be part o' the guild, eh?"

"P-part of the guild?" Zyrax is overwhelmed, "O-of course I would love to join the guild. What is it I have to do?"

Ja'rom sits back in his chair a bit and thinks a moment, "Well… you couldn't be a full member yet, seein' as yer not quite an adult. They'se been askin' bout ye though and they'se willin to give ye a trial run, till ye can prove yerself of course."

Zyrax smiles from ear to ear at the news. Finally, he thinks, finally I can make my own way; keep my own earnings. His father has been a member of the guild for as long as he can remember and Zyrax has been lifting purses for nearly that long. The thought of actually being able to keep anything that he finds was a godsend. Surely Tymora smiles on him today.

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That's all I really have right now. I'm not really 100% sure on the setting and would greatly appreciate any feedback. The story takes place in 1356, the Year of the Worm. I'll be posting more entries as I come up with them.