Jarrin Darro, The Rusty Thief (journal page)

My thoughts have turned hasty dusty of late, so I've decided to keep a journal to gather them into one place. My name is Jarrin Darro, I am thirty.......eight. Thirty-eight years old. and I was once the greatest thief this world had ever known. This is not a sob story, so I'll spare the boring details I don't remember most of those anyway.

I suppose my downfall began when I found myself in a small glade hidden from the worlds eyes, where a bush with roses of 7 colors grew. I picked the blue one. Why did I pick the blue one? I do not know. I just felt....compelled somehow.

How long ago was it that I was first imprisoned in Davenmoore Keep's dungeon? The security was like nothing I had ever seen before; the prospect of escape excited me more than even my greatest of heists. Soon after my escape, however, I was caught and put back into my cell. I allowed this, having pegged Lord Davenmoore as the type to try ever harder to keep me behind his bars. I was right. He renovated them every single time I escaped....but there was a problem. He had the traps and trials designed to demoralize escapees. Things got boring. Too many locks so effortlessly picked with these blue roses of mine. On the eve of my final escape....I met an unusual pair: A preteen Tiefling of some sort and a Changeling that'd be right at home with the Drow. I gave them two of my final three roses and escaped as normal.

There was something about them.....or perhaps they just served to amuse me? It doesn't really matter. I wandered the countryside after that, when I was recognized in a fishing village and put on the prison barge, Ravana. An ironclad warship restructured into a mobile prison. I must have escaped from the brig no less than 5 times. That's when something right out of a godsdamned fairytale happened. The Ravana met with a trade ship that's never seen in that far north. The captains must have gotten to talking because I was swiftly taken onto their ship and transported far far to the south.....to the lands claimed by the Mellori.

The last prison, the one before this one, was like nothing I had ever seen before. The other inmates all had red hair and red eyes, but took to me quickly enough. When I mentioned that I was here for my habit of escaping prisons, they laughed. It made sense after all.....this prison, constructed by these otherworlders, looked very much like something that could only be thought up by otherworlders. No cells. Inmates allowed to do whatever they want. Food is dropped down once every week. If it weren't for that little detail, I'd assume they stopped caring altogether. The entry point was a giant fucking hole in the ground, with the walls constructed of smooth marble. To complicate things, they apparently have two spells permanently affecting them: One to keep them in fresh condition, and the other a wizards favorite: Grease. Climbing out was impossible, and the only other exit was a tunnel so filled with traps that none have even dared escape. Every other week, a priest clad in black-white robes would wander around, holding a large mirror and scales, asking everyone inside if they'd like to repent. I thought it stupid until one of them put on a rather convincing display for them. This only made the priest angry and his bodyguards to beat the man to an inch within his life. It was later explained to me that priests of Xand could detect all forms of deceipt.

The thing that floored me was that all Mellori prisons are like this.

Ignorant of what was to come, I accepted this as a challenge and noted that the only way I could get out was through the death trap. What a fool I was....I still thought of this as a typical prison. I quickly found my blue rose, that can pick any lock, to be worthless here. My skills as a thief had gotten so rusty that I had forgotten everything. There was no way I could get through it alive. I still doubt I could even if I were at my prime. Thoroughly convinced defeated, I went back. Sure they laughed, but I didn't care. There was only one way out. I accepted the priests offer and they let me out. It's a prison I wouldn't wish on even my worst enemy. One that is thouroughly made to ensure that any attempts at escape are not met with harsh punishment or demoralization....but crippling despair before certain death.

The priest made me a second offer...an offer that no other Mellori would have made and one that would invite harsh criticism for centuries to come. I accepted it after brief discussion and became the first known non-Mellori priest of The Way of Xand. Their organization of light within dark and dark within light intrigued me, and I was allowed to stick to the shadows instead of preaching. A shadow priest....I still like the sound of that.

But now I'm here. In yet another prison. The order of the sacred flame has the audacity to deny even the power of the gods in here, yet they didn't account for my sharp tongue. But that's neither here nor there. I killed a man. A man who had taken advantage of the suffering of children to get fat and drunk off of his own self-entitlement and coin. This offended the higher classes who then proceeded to demand the most demeaning and painful death imaginable. I simply laughed, for unlike them, I have lived an honest and simple life. Yes. The thief is more honest than the noble. Funny how that turns out.

In the meantime, a fresh start is in order. I must needs relearn everything from the beginning. Too long have I relied on the blue rose. Too long have I wasted away in prisons. My training as a rogue begins anew.