The concerns of gods are rarely the concerns of mortals. Renn the Thief is occupied with food, shelter, and a little something to ease into sleep - another small cog in the city of Myrport. Trade capital of the inner sea, Myrport was founded by a cabal of merchant houses on the cheapest land available, a swamp only slightly more desirable than a volcano. On many a damp night a beggar has suggested they made the wrong choice. The wealthy live in great mansions, far above the thoughtful beggar, on estates carved into the side of the mountain rising from the water. The poor make their home on the docks extending over mud and swamp to reach the Inner Sea. Their homes rest on scavenged piers and converted warehouses. When times are good, it is wet and cold. When it's bad it rains. Survival comes from preying on the weak. Not unlike the rich, our beggar wouldn't hesitate to add. Renn lives by the lessons and wisdom passed by his father. From the time he learned to toddle, his father molded and beat young Renn into the best burglar in Myrport. Since larceny is as essential in Myrport as mud and rain, that probably means the best thief in the Inner Sea. There's always a murdering bastard feeding off the dregs on the docks, the current version is a man named Clar. He feeds his victims to the giant mud dwelling crabs before he kills them, instead of after. When he offers Renn a job, the young thief decides he likes breathing and accepts. That's when his luck gets really bad.