I finally told him. Well, isn't that an odd place to be starting an accounting of my life? Alas, it would seem that ink cannot be erased. And ripping pages from a book does make it look so untidy. It'll have to stay.

Anyway, if you've found this little dictation of who I am, that probably means that I've dropped it somewhere, and you're poking through it. If that is the case, then I would kindly ask you to stop your nosy behavior, and return it to Terrient Tillmorrow. I suppose I cannot be reprimanding anyone for giving in to curiosity, it happens to the best of us. Now that all that is out of the way, I can start writing this! I never thought that something so exciting could occur while I had a quill in hand. Alright, that should be a sufficient amount of sarcasm for now.

I don't believe that where I am from had a name, but it wasn't isn't too important now. I spent just about all of my childhood there, as most children do in a home. Luckily for me, I was the youngest of my family, with four older sisters. I suppose being forced into dresses and having my hair tied into pigtails against my will served to be somewhat character building. I don't know how to describe myself as a child, but I can't recall being in trouble all too often. The room I shared with one of my sisters was usually clean, according to memory. It was was somewhere around when I was eighteen that I decided to leave. One of my sisters had recently gotten herself married, and she was already well on the way to expanding the family even further. Seeing my parent's faces, I came to a conclusion. I couldn't give them such pride, so it would hurt them less if I just left. I admit this may be something of an excuse, as I was curious about the outside world as well. The two things together sent me walking along the road in the middle of the night, headed towards some nearby human city. I didn't spend all too long in this city. The people were impolite and unfriendly, and always behaved as though they were in some inexcusable hurry. Atop of this, everything had a price, and too few would accept favors as payment, let alone offer things in charity. Before two weeks were through, I was on my way back home. It provided me a somewhat interesting insight to the differences between Humans and my kind. You see, up until now the only other Humans I had met had been the group of bandits that ruled over my home as tyrants for almost a year, and the adventurers that slew them before settling into retirement in my village. I'd been avoiding both parties. Anyway, as I was headed back home, I had the misfortune of Besheba paying me a visit while Tymora was otherwise occupied. I have found now that it is less uncommon than I originally believed, but I was taken in a raid that drow were carrying out.

I suppose that led to me being here. I'll write a bit more later on. I have to get back to whatever it is that I do with my time.

Now, where was I? Oh, yes.

I have lived in Sanctuary for somewhere around three years of my life now. In that time, I've had my share of challenges and difficulties. Finding employment here can be difficult, and the majority usually end up rotting away in Lower Sanctuary. Of course, I arrived back when the city was "united". Perhaps my memory is somewhat distorted, as I spent a fair amount of my first year here drowned in cups, and awaking beside men and women that I altogether didn't recognise nor remember. Although it was interesting, even those were not good times. It was the year after that I decided it was time to make a move from Lower Sanctuary. If I recall correctly, it was the treatment that the Tigereyes were giving us all that eventually made me decide to seek better things in my life. I pushed myself out of my alcohol reliance, and began finding employment however I could. Some of the work I did was less than honest, but when you're in the same position as I was, you would learn to make acceptions in your ethics. Besides, I never hurt anyone, so what I did wasn't all that bad. I worked in a brewery first, which was a glorious place to have found a job, but it didn't last. Due to my stature, I found it more difficult to work, so they sent me off and replaced me with a human. The exact same thing happened in at least four more places, but I eventually found something promising as a gnome's personal assistant. He paid well, and I had plenty of meals, even a place to sleep. Alas, he eventually died to a mishap in an experiment. Times went tough again, I started having to spend nights on the streets of Lower. Fortunately, the Tigers generally didn't pay much mind to me. I find that odd, however; what's more volnerable than a three foot tall man who doesn't know how to defend himself? Anyway, I kept on with my attempts, performing errand after errand, working in positions both temporary and "permanent". Mishap after disaster always prevented me from any sort of lasting success. By the end of the second year, I had enough saved up to buy me a few months in the Rock Bottom. I was amazed with myself, and readily moved my way up the countless spiraling stairs to Upper.

Now, there's an old story of Sanctuary. A man from Upper and a man from Lower sit beside each other, each cooking crabs in a pot. The Upper man places a lid on his pot, the Lower man does not. When the one from Upper asks why the one from Lower uses no lid, the one from Lower replies, "Because these are Lower crabs. Every time one of them tries to get out of the pot, another pulls it down"

The point of the story is true, it seems. One of the men who worked beside me, at one of my numerous careers, came and paid me a visit. He pleaded and begged me for coin, saying that his daughter was ill. As he was taring at my heartstrings, I lent him a fair share of my coin. Over the next few weeks, I went to visit him, to find out if his daughter was alright. I found him as drunk as a depressed dwarf, with three paid women around him. Knowing that I'd never see a single scrap of that coin again, I just trudged back to Upper, aware that I would be in Lower again by the end of the month. And surely enough, I was sleeping with my head on a pillow made of cobblestones before I could do anything. However, having seen life in Upper, the better side of Sanctuary, I couldn't just lie there. It was within my grasp. By now, it was well into my second year in Sanctuary, and I was more than ready to make my residence in Upper a permanent one. I stopped looking about Lower for employment, knowing that I would never find anything that I needed. I began making daily trips up those stairs. At times, I would just stand on the street and ask, other times I was asked for a piece of parchment listing my qualifications and experience. Once again, I was moving from job to job. Every time I was paid, I had to fight off that temptation to spend a handful of my coins on something to get me drunk.

Things eventually looked up around the mark of my third year or so, and seem to have stayed fairly high...

I had found what I was certain would last. It didn't pay well, the conditions would leave me most likely diseased and dying, but it payed enough for a bed and meal. The Zhurkwood factory up the hill in Upper Sanctuary. I worked there for a few months, rather content with it. The people weren't necessarily nice, and injuries could be fairly frequent at times, but it was better than nothing. Sadly, my career there didn't last forever either. Somewhat disillusioned, I was forced to leave as a taller replacement was found - believe it or not, a thirteen year old boy. I moaped about aimlessly for a short while. It was then that I met Madam Saint, who went on to become a councillor. I asked her if she could help me, if there was anything at all available in either her service, or that of someone she knew. She said that she would help me, and also suggested that I inquire with the Marching Men. Thankful, I did just that, and went over to the barracks in the Rhunyorn Arms building. I met Kedrick Reynolds, the then-Marshal of the Marching Men. I told him what I needed, and asked him if he could help. He offered me a job without any pay, but I would be given a place to sleep as well as food. Normally, I might have denied this offer, but I was well on the desperate side. I accepted and begun working immediately, organising files and writing contracts. It was always easy work, and I actually enjoyed it a fair bit; Kedrick has had some enjoyable company over the while, and I do believe that I could spend what's left of my life with him.

To be honest, I don't know what it is about Kedrick that I so adore. Perhaps it's because he aided me in sorting my life out, or that he actually cares for the rest of Sanctuary, and not just his own self. I settled in to life in the barracks quickly, and my work was often praised. It wasn't like working in a group at all, I didn't have to compete for my place, nor did I have to worry about someone taller strolling along and assuming my position. Although I did have to deal with the occasional idiot, or arrogant human slug with a superiority complex. It was this year, the one hundred and fifty third year of Sanctuary, that Kedrick and I decided that we would adopt a child. I went to the orphanage with a friend, and I must say, chosing which one I would take home was perhaps the most difficult thing that I have ever done. You see, the orphanage was recently bombed, and the children all seemed a mite frightened and sad to me. However, I settled for the first one that the woman working there took me to. Only because I just couldn't walk about to pick and choose. Charlie. I must say, my own parents were astonishing to have made it look so easy, as I've had nothing but more difficulties since I adopted Charlie. He's run away at the moment. I don't think that written words can express how I feel, but it's worth a try. When I was taken down here, tortured and enslaved, I was frightened. But when I couldn't find Charlie, that seemed like nothing at all. Being a parent is something that I have wanted since I was young, something that my parents expected of me, and it is what caused me to leave my home because I thought that I would never accomplish it. Now I had done it, and I had failed miserably. I still don't even know if Charlie is alive or dead, and I can't imagine more anguish. To make matters worse, just before Charlie disappeared, the barracks was taken from us by Sherrif Azzam. Homeless again, I approached a Tempuran priestess named Colara. My prior experience with this woman told me, without rational doubt, that she was a bitch. And surely enough, she was! However, I needed a place to live, so I asked her for a working position. Shortly after she "hired" me, she died. Before I had time to fret and worry, I found out that Kedrick would likely be the new Headmaster, so the only thing I've had to priss over was been Charlie.

Recently, I've approached the Spellguard for help. I'm worried that something even worse is going to happen, but I've not had a choice. Divination can find him, I've been told. And wizards do that.