Yonnum's Tale (1): Twitch grew up in a violent life... Not that he had a particularly tough childhood, it's just that his father beat him on a regular basis. Not in anger, nor in a drunken stupor. Simply because the kid was ugly. Unfortunately, physics wasn't a strong suit of Yonnum's father... Beating the child (his favorite tool was a thorned switch) only made him uglier... And mean as a gut-shot monkey.

Because of such preadolecent antics, Twitch had a tendency to stay away from home as much as possible, generally indulging in one of the few things open to him; Crime. Soon after his fourteenth birthday, Yonnum discovered that a series of tunnels, sewers, and crypts criss-crossed beneath the mudhole town his family had chosen to live in.

Preferring the rats and filth to a steady diet of swung hickory, Twitch left home soon after his discovery and made the sewers his permenant residence. Much to the disgust of the other city dwellers, he continued to practice his larcenous arts... This time without fear of familias reprisals.

One day, his explorations took him into a comletely unfamiliar section of tunnelwork, far beneath the sewers he called home. Everything here was strange; the stoneworks, the smell in the air... Even the dessicated and skeletal body stuck to one of the walls by a long, double-headed spear. Sensing an oppurtunity in disguise (not too well disguised... It was pretty obvious it was a spear and dead body), Yonnum grabbed the spear, wretching it free from it's previous holder. Elated, Twitch took off like a cat on crack in the other direction... Not wishing to test his good fortune.

Soon after that, he left his childhood home and ventured out into the world at large... Exploring it one hole at a time.

It all started with a door. A locked door, as it were, but still a wooden barrier seperating him from where he wanted to be... Inside it. Unfortunately, outside with him were both an impatient Imperial Footman and a drunken group of goblins, itching with trouble and bad washing habits. Deciding that discretion was the better part of survival, Twitch forced his way through lock and door to the tunnels inside.

Unfortunately, this pissed off the footman who wanted inside as well. Twitch and the Imperial (or, more accurately, the imperial's blade) had a conversation and Yonnom agreed that the Footman should come inside as well.

A good thig too as, soon as the door closed and the paprika-laced dust settled, two wraiths decided to try and make a specteral meal of the two heros. Valor unseen since the days of yore soon commenced. The aftermath left the two wraiths in a far deader condition than previously believed possible.

A second, far deadlier aftermath found the thief at odds with a potently-trapped chest. Surrounded by a vaperous cloud that wasn't congruent with Twitch's acceptable standards of health, the rogue soon succumbed to a darkness ever worse that the inside of his eyelids after a night's heavy drinking...