Born a butcher's boy in Riddleport, Greyson always had a sense for blood. His father was a cruel man, mercilessly slaughtering all his animal friends as soon as he grew attached to them.
"I don't want me no sissy of a lad," his old man would say as he removed heads and limbs of the still-living rabbits, cats, cows and goats, and soon Greyson grew apathetic and jaded.
He was thirteen when the collectors came to his house, thugs working for the local crime lord; his old man was in debt, wasting it all on booze and whores at the downtown brothel. Greyson had no sympathy when they slit his old man's throat; it was like butcher's work. He only asked why. "'E made a deal. 'E di'n't hold 'is end o'th bargain," the thugs replied, and they took him with them.
Taught to wield arms, Greyson grew up to be a strong and reliable fighter; in sheer finesse, he outclassed most of the apprentices, and the thugs as well. He watched the crime lord have his minions executed when they failed work. "A deal is a deal," he was taught. "You do what you're hired to do, and then you get paid, no questions asked. Be reliable. Have some honour."
Contracts were often found, and Greyson adopted the credo without mercy. The first life he took was that of an old priest, a man of disgusting calibre. When the life went out of his eyes, Greyson excepted some emotion, some turmoil. Yet when he put the head in the bag, he only saw the headless pile of flesh, not a man. Word of his efficiency spread quickly through the city, and it wasn't long before the local government got on his tail.
When the guards approached, Greyson remained ever still. The mayor of the city offered him a contract: the head of the crime lord in exchange for all records wiped in the books, as well as great payment. It was a job. Greyson approached the crime lord, telling the man he had been hired to take his head. A brutal battle occurred, yet despite his wounds Greyson stood standing, while the crime lord's goons were slain. Desperate, Greyson listened to the bounty plead for his life, in exchange for bigger sums of gold.
Returning to the mayor with a head in a bag, Greyson got his payment: five hundred gold pieces, and a weapon of his choosing. He received a scythe of outstanding quality, and took off.
He has now arrived in Westcrown, on account of a new contract.
