[A well maintained leather bound book. The Cover is quite plain aside from the extravagant cover, and on the back an image of a quite suave man dressed in an overtly expensive looking vest looking up from a desk with a smirk can be seen]

Greetings. I am Kaen Piccoli. And before you ask, yes, the horns are quite real. Antlers, actually. I suppose to introduce you to this story, it best that I explain my situation. I am a business man. My business is shady, and business is good. I've been doing "Business" for what feels my entire life, and things are going quite well.

I was born and raised in Westgate, the son of an rich and abusive bastard who felt it enjoyable to see how long I could go without food before passing out. Most of my life I resented such, thinking "Life elsewhere would be far greater.". Friends. The grass is always greener. After a lifelong struggle of abuse and special teachings from a maid in the ways of Our lady of Misfortune, of supposedly I am born of, making me some sort of "Idol", I changed my lot in life. I killed him. A simple task really. A simple distraction from a sibling while I placed a crossbow bolt firmly between his neck and head.

Now, before you judge me for feasting upon his blood, I ask you- Is a man the product of his society? Does fate cast his hand long before he is about? Or is he simply free to make his own choices. For some reason, be it fate or otherwise, all lead to the same path. My society shunned me, claiming me a "Monster", and such is what I became. My fate was delt long before I was about, as I was born with the blood of demons within my veins, constantly struggling to break free. My own choices have guided my hand and made me what I am today- A success.

I am unable to see most colors at times, an interesting but pointless fact I enjoy telling people. As my heritage gave me horns and white hair, while my father had quite black hair, I also have unusual eyes. Depending on my state, they vary. I am told I see most colors well when I am complacent, though when enraged or extreme states of emotion, or with enough focus, My eyes begin to illuminate and change and everything is coated with a bloody-red. But, I digress.

Life in Westgate was what every demonic-spawned-abused-neglected-fatalistic-greedy-psychopath could have hoped for (Or so I thought). My business was booming along with religious actions, and I found myself enjoying the "High" life. Funny though, how one thing you have nothing to do with can change your entire life. A simply heist done by religious associates fell through, and I found myself at the wrong end of a spear, and eventually in a burlap sack.

I awoke in underdark, "Sanctuary" as they call it. And my friends, business has never been better.

Chapter 1

Sanctuary

If you look up the word Sanctuary, you'll find many definitions. This city was founded upon the principles of "Freedom", and yet has faced two open rebellions since it's creation. Upon my arrival, I found myself in a unique position. The streets were littered with creatures of all walks of life, as well as the numerous humans and other races one expects within a city, and I fit in quite well. Then, I ventured upwards. In what the citizens call "Upper", Humans are a -shocking- majority. Donning a helm, I found myself interacting with a number of people. Funny, how even in a sanctuary I am forced to hide my nature in another section.

I quickly established myself as an "Investor" of sorts, which is not completely a lie. I invest in people. Prospective people who can increase my business. Wearing a helm, I negotiated with elves, dwarves, goblins, kobolds, half orcs, and even humans. Strangely enough many did not mind talking to an individual who they had no idea how he looks. As time progressed, I made various contacts with people who I shall refrain from naming for the simple sake that I do not wish to give away every business secret. This is simply my tale, a guide if you will, to business in sanctuary.

A very good idea for increasing your contacts, is feigning interest in politics. Everyone has an agenda in politics, and everyone has an agenda for politicians to push. By falsely running for election on the so called "Lower Council" by the ever-strong city that does not even stand an army, I increased my public and private contacts ten fold. Ironically, such was done without a helm. They saw the antlers. The redeye, the demonic heritage, and they did not care. Such may be a sanctuary from slavery for them, but I find it a playground of corruption and shady desires. Ones I am more than happy to fulfill if my cut is large enough.

Know your audience. In a city such as this, divided by unofficial rebellion, you must be aware how do deal with your associates. Some will react to a rough and tough shady adventurer with a foul mouth and horns, while others expect a charming and sophisticated individual, with intellect and cunning to run a business suitable of making them a profit.

Find a benefactor. While it is important to remain independent, as well as the boss, you must not be above aid. A humbling experience, entering a new city is, as you are forced to be unfamiliar with terrain, politics, and a general sense of "Who's who". Once you find your benefactor, and establish yourself, you are able to begin the ever important part of your business, recruitment.

Recruiting for any business is difficult, even more so in mine. Dealing with the dregs and scum of society, you are forced to play many angles and quickly think on your feet. Some are cunning merchants from exotic lands abroad, while others are simply waterdhavian nobility forced to eek out existance away from their parent's allowence. The more associates you have, the larger recruitment pool you have. As more and more people are able to recognize your name, your face, your business, more are likely to flock to you. You're reliable, fair, and in a world where life can in in a moment, delightfully cheerful. Perhaps the Lady is responsible for such. Humans and Elves are often trustworthy, Gnomes are odd but essential at times, Halflings and Orcs are to be usually avoided, as Halflings care more for coin, and Orcs are too stupid to learn that "Is' And "Juus" are not how you discuss yourself and others. It simply ruins your business image, and brings your whole company down.

Spread your business. While it is important to keep a financial blanket, as well as out of prison and your head on your body, it is important to remember that you cannot spread yourself too thin or put your eggs all in one basket. Either extreme is a hazard. Branch out. Expand your influence into market economy when you could care less of such. Politics when you seek only to manipulate the manipulators. Law when you only seek ways to avoid such. Adventurers when you would rather have a full stable of completely reliable and resourceful individuals willing to do whatever you ask, should the price be right.

Finally, make your own fate. Regardless of religious views and such, you must remain true to yourself above all others. Praying to a god may make you feel better, or rally fellow sheep to your cause, but to blindly give in to the will of someone who likely will not answer, is simply blinding yourself to the world around you. Piety is important, as it keeps you from getting overtly lusting for power, but there is a tightrope between zealot and casual observer of a faith. To surrender your will to a god, or anyone, is to surrender yourself to failure.

Follow these simple rules, and you shall find your business profitable. At the time I write this, I have done every single aspect of this, and for the most part, am in complete control of business.

[The picture on the start of the chapter is a gaunt and emaciated man, standing in the shadows, two blood red orbs lighting his face as he stares onward, crimson tears running down his cheeks] TRUST. NO. ONE. BLOOD. RUNS. SHALLOW. JEALOUSY. KNOWS. NOT. FAMILY. MISFORTUNE. SPREADS. FOR. BLOOD. REMOVING. IS. SALVATION. DEATH. BECOMES. ME.

[in a much more composed hand than the previous "Chapter"] Business, Politics, Faith- It is ironic, how business tears things apart. Families. Religions. Even Cities.

I have walked once more amongst the shadows, and I have torn families and religions apart, while musing the city that I wander. Lower is in a horrific state. The coward Jarby seems to be hiring any-and-all he can into the lower footmen, as there is nothing that can protect the city. Oorog and Lizardman attacks upon the canal gate put stress on the city, to the point where I have found some citizens debating reforming with Upper out of pure desperation. Orphans litter the streets, and merchants can hardly afford to eat. The so called "Council" has lead to nothing but more strife and conflict, leaving nothing more than destruction and Chaos in its wake.

Acting as the Lady's Gambit in light of Abel's misleading of the church, the hunting of my head, and the removal of my hand, I have found that working is much more complicated. Crossbows I have worked well with, though Slings and Darts I am quite weak at throwing, I've found. Traps and other tools shall make up for the hand, I suppose. Cadara has been slain, her face carved into a smile upon seeing the ladies gaze, and William Buckman's head now sits at my feet, knowing well the fate that befalls those who dare mock the lady's ever rare graces. The dagger was difficult to sever his spine with, as it is more of a weapon of stabbing. I must keep such in mind for the future.

As it would seem, The Priest is no longer a threat as his whore has been slain, so I shall slowly resume my business in public. An important lesson has been learned, though.

The Talontar continues his campaign for council under my guidance, though I am quite tempted to run myself. Lower cannot sustain itself on its own, and with constant shoutings of hatred against the upper council and organizations, while the seekers run amuck, I am hesitant to return to political action in hopes of gaining seat in upper.

Should one ever seek to enter a political ring, it is necessity to have friends in both high and low places. Having such makes work easier in both a legitimate and un-legitimate business sense. Though such is common sense, the forest is often missed for the trees.

I found myself across the table from a man with celestial blood. His stench filled my nostrils and made me queasy, so I tried to mask such with my pipe. Simply coming in contact with his armor to shake his hand in a form of good will made my blood boil, forcing me to leave before I lost composure and slit his throat, basking in his glowing blood as it rained upon my skin. Human blood tastes rather unclean, perhaps his is less revolting. Granted his "Impurities", though, I may find my own blood thirsting for more. Such is to be thought of for the future.