It was a much different Golarion when I was a boy. A surge of national pride was washing over us and we thought ourselves invincible. Every day was a parade or a celebration. I remember my parents being afraid, but I was proud. We were Cheliax, and Cheliax was strong. When Andoran managed its revolt, it was a shock to the system. My parents tried to flee to Andoran, in the middle of the night like thieves. They were caught and sent to prison. I wonder if they're still alive.
I was taken and sent to an orphanage sponsored by the House of Thrune. It was there that they trained us to become warriors of the empire. Thrune walked where it willed and we were to be its shadows. I was proud again, invincible, and in that invincible state I came to Taldor with my brethren. We were looking for proof that certain noble houses were in support of Andoran, still in its infant years. I hated them then, all of them. It all seems so small now.
I was hurt and left behind. Cheliax abandoned me, disavowed me and called me an 'independent operative.' Independent. As if independence was ever a part of my life. Even in here, 30 plus years later, I have no independence. I am told what to do and when to do them. The night of the breakout, I decided to finally become an independent operative. Men found a way out and told me, "Let's go!" and I went, on to independence.
I find myself now on a damn boat going who the hell cares where. Some of the others showed up here, saying it's a colony ship on its way to a strange, new world. I think I'm in a strange world no matter what side of the water it's on. Entire nations came and went while I spent decades rotting away in a stone hole in the ground.
No one calls me "Pops" anymore. I miss it. I miss being the guy who knows everything. The fish used to come to me and ask me how things went. If they didn't, I'd find them and let them know. I was respected. Now what? I'm just an old man on a boat. I don't know anything.
