Basque*'s page

About Basque*

Basque*
The only family Basque* knew growing up was a gang of thieves and pickpockets. The only father he knew was a man named Capafayo who was their ringleader. From an underground lair Capafayo taught all his children how to be smooth pickpockets, cut-purses and lock pickers, training them during the day and sending them to the streets at night. Anything filched was promptly turned over to Capafayo, ‘for the good of the family’. Anyone caught holding back was shamed and severely beaten, first by Capafayo then the dishonored was handed over to the family.
When one became of age, after a modest ceremony, Capafayo would take them out alone and give them a share of the group’s collective loot and send them on their way to seek out a living elsewhere. It was always a bittersweet moment, knowing you’ll probably never see that brother or sister again but it was comforting to know that Capafayo and the family was looking out for you. New members were added to the family from local orphanages.
Basque* was excited when Capafayo announced that his time was coming soon. He gathered a dagger and a bag for his personals (and for his share of earnings) then he and Capafayo left the lair one last time. It was a sad and exciting time for Basque*. He wasn’t exactly sure where he would go, maybe Capafayo would suggest someplace. What words of wisdom would his mentor impart on him? Could he ever come back to visit? Capafayo took him to a remote field at dusk and explained that when one of his children left, Capafayo just couldn’t afford to part with any of his money so he just made sure the child never returned. Then, drawing a short sword and lunging, he attacked Basque*. Reflexes and training took over, Basque* feigned left and, drawing the dagger, buried it in Capafayo’s side, then twice in his back as he fell. Now shock overtook Basque*. What had just happened? He went to the bleeding man who had been like a father. Capafayo coughed and as Basque* leaned closer Capafayo pulled a hand crossbow and shot him. The dagger was a blur as it hit the organs he’d been trained to aim for. Trained by the man he just killed. Gathering himself, trying to grasp the situation, Basque* sat down and looked about him. The bolt had lodged into his thigh, it hurt but he would live. But now, here in the darkness he could see mounds, dozens of them. Approaching one he could see a bit of cloth. As Basque* uncovered it, it quickly became obvious that it was a body, a few minutes more and he could tell it was a familiar body, that of Quist who left the family two months ago. All these mounds were brothers and sisters who had ‘graduated’ to the real world only to be slaughtered by the one adult they all trusted. He limped back to the lair and explained what had happened. The family was in disbelief, so he led them back to the field and showed them. Back at the lair, Basque* and the others searched Capafayo’s room. They found a hidden latch that opened to a small room. There they found a treasure horde. A collection of the most valuable items the family had acquired over the years were hidden in there. Basque*, being the oldest took to dividing up the loot between them. Then they discussed their fate. He just couldn’t stay, leading a life of stealing after what he had learned about Capafayo but where could he go, was there a place that could use his talents? He had heard of the Pathfinder Society, would they accept him? Taking only 150 crowns for himself and setting up the family with the rest he started asking around about the Pathfinders.