As Gua Zhen entered the small tavern in Pitax, he had a strange sense that he had been there before. He knew, as he'd read many times, that he actually had been. But this was the first time he could remember experiencing it.
Zhen was the bastard son of a Surtovan noble. The noble, in his shame of impregnating a simple farmer's daughter, intended for both her and her newborn child to be removed from Brevoy - permanently. He came to her one night, prepared to kill the both of them. As she slept, he cut her throat. But when he saw his son, he was unable to commit the deed - he looked just like him.
He wrapped him in blankets and made his way to a small, dirty house. He knocked frantically on the door, and after a few moments, the door cracked open and an older Tian woman appeared. Seeing who it was, she allowed him to enter and quickly closed the door behind her. "What kinda trouble you in now, boy?" she asked, eyeing the "package" he carried warily. He hastily made a lie about finding this small child alone in the street and needing to ensure its safety by getting it as far away from here as possible. She shook her head sadly and ripped the bundle from his hands. "This will cost you, boy. Give me that fancy necklace and all the gold you're carrying - I'll ask for 10 times that amount when I return." He hesitated for only a moment before lifting the locket over his head, withdrawing his money pouch and handing both over to the woman.
Over the next several days, the old woman made her way to Pitax where she had arranged for a contact of hers to take the child to Tar Kuata to live and learn from the faithful and powerful monks of Irori there. As she handed the child over, she put the noble's necklace in the child's small pouch of belongings.
As Zhen grew older, he slowly became aware of his origin, thanks to the sporadic letters he received from the old woman. She told him of his father, his mother's fate and how he had ended up in Osirion. In every letter she urged him to stay put and to continue his training. That the time for his return would come. But to remain patient.
That time came in his 24th year. He received news that his elderly guardian had died in her sleep. Seeking guidance from his masters, he decided to leave the monastery to pay his respects.
Two months after receiving word of her death, the tall, bald man, honed muscles rippling beneath his simple clothing, finally returned to where his new life began. His striking green eyes peered around the room, looking for someone who might be helpful.
His knuckles turned white as he gripped the small necklace - the only real token from his past - tightly in his left hand. Approaching the bartender he asks simply, "Sir, is it possible that I might find passage to Port Ice in this village?"
