An Orphan Gone Rogue

The town of Oflen, home to many races, was not often a place that one would find the Dwarven race. Even still, the quaint and quiet town was home to a young Dwarf named Kithri. The streets were their playground, the gutters their resting place, and the locals their entertainment. This was how Kithri liked it, and, being the only Dwarf around, they learned at an early age the benefits of being low to the ground.

Sneaking around was never really a necessity for survival, but Kithri learned how to manipulate their stocky frame to be undetected to any passers by. It became a sort of game for them, seeing how many people Kithri could successfully hide from, and just how far they could push the envelope.

Kithri was born into a family, they think. They were orphaned before an age that allowed for solid memory. In reality, the only glimpse of their parents that Kithri could make out was by staring at their reflection in the river and imagining themselves as an older male or female. This never lasted long, though, as Kithri would come back from the daydream and cringe at the actual thought of themself as either gender. Obviously, they knew that gender was a concept that existed, but they never attached themself to either gender. Growing up Kithri didn't feel like a little boy or a little girl, but rather felt like they were beyond the concept. This got roped into their sneaking game rather quickly, as they would introduce themself and wait in anticipation to see what others would gender them as, often ending the conversation early when the other party grew confused by their seemingly random cackling.

When Kithri wasn't entertaining themself with daydreams and innocent trickery, they were sitting by the local forge, mesmerized by the craftsmanship of the swords, shields, and armor made from various different metals. The warm glow cast off of the gold, the almost-reflective sheen of the silver, the rainbow of colors that gemstones came in; the entire world of smithing was an enigma that Kithri wanted their own share of. At the age of ten, Kithri decided to use all of their practice sneaking around and fiddling with disposed machinery to attempt to break into the forge. In the dead of night, with only the occasional chirp of a cricket, Kithri made their move. The lock was harder to pick than they'd expected, yet they were eventually able to pick it open and open the door slowly enough to avoid the creak that they knew the hinges were prone to making. The world was their oyster after that day, and they would spend multiple nights a week acquainting themselves with the feeling of tools, gemstones, metals, and using scraps to craft various trinkets and small weapons. The weapons were so small, they weren't even very practical even for someone of such a short stature as Kithri. Still, this went on for three years until Kithri felt confident enough in their abilities, that they asked for an apprenticeship. The blacksmiths laughed, but still allowed Kithri to join them. What they thought would be a chance to finally get their hands on better materials quickly went south. The blacksmiths decided that Kithri would make a better errand person at their age, much to their chagrin. One year later, however, Kithri had managed to stash away a small amount of materials, little by little, until they could craft a proper weapon. Their semi-nightly trips to the forge were enhanced by their ability to now access better materials, undetected, during day trips to the miners. The sword that Kithri crafted was a thing of beauty; a golden handle, silver blade, and a sheath unique to Kithri alone. The sheath disguised the sharp blade as nothing more than a decoration. Made purely of soft and inexpensive moonstone, it would surely deter anyone from stealing it. Kithri decided to quit their apprenticeship only when he discovered theue next passion; one that they felt even more strongly about than smithing.

Kithri was no stranger to the bustle that happened on weekends in Oflen. The otherwise peaceful town would gather in the square and light up the night with music, laughter, and, of course, plenty of ale. It was on one such night as this that Kithri happened to look inside and lay their eyes on a magical sight.

Perhaps they were just too young to appreciate it at first, but Kithri loved how this place seemed to enchant the townspeople. He recognized the faces of some that often walked past them in the mornings, tired and melancholic, now with large smiles on their faces and warmth in their cheeks. The one thing that every one of the smiling faces had in common? They all just so happened to be holding a brown mug with a white froth sloshing above the rim.

Dwarves didn't reach their age of maturity for forty years and, at fourteen, young Kithri knew that this would have to be their next venture. Waiting for twenty-six years seemed agonizing, so Kithri began plotting. They didn't like breaking the law, but had done so before at this point. Breaking and entering as many times as they did in years prior would have definitely been enough to see a jailhouse or two, but the decision to do so was always justified to them. So long as nobody was hurt by their actions, was there harm in it? Accidents happen and things go missing all of the time, was it so wrong to take half an ounce of silver here and there? To Kithri, the law was important, but happiness and freedoms were much more just in some cases. Their plan came to fruition four years after the fateful day of discovering the tavern life.

The town of Oflen, home to many races, was not often a place that one would find the Dwarven race. Kithri had always known that, and used it to their advantage. Their status as a minority helped shape them into an impeccable rogue, and the town not seeing many Dwarves kept Kithri from being questioned when the then eighteen-year old lied their way into becoming a bartender. Later, they would go on to own the tavern known as The Golden Mug. Many years passed, and at the age of thirty-one, Kithri decided that a change of scenery was in order. There's only so often they could find joy and excitement seeing the same things and same people day in and day out. Their uncanny natural ability with bar tending was sure to land them a job elsewhere and, when eavesdropping in on a conversation at the bar top, Kithri learned of a mysterious town called Blade's Refuge. There was some sort of disappearance there, yet Kithri felt almost called to be there. They didn't know what would come of a life there, yet they still gave away their beloved tavern and packed up their things in the pursuit of change.