Deuce is a halfling boy of fourteen years who has made his living on the streets for the last four years. Since his mother was killed when he was ten, no one wanted anything to do with a halfling bastard. He developed skills on the street that have allowed him to survive and even give him a bit of fun in the process. He was on the road to becoming very good at his trade when he was caught by the city guard when he was thirteen. Since that day, he has spent the last ten months in a work camp where they didn't care about his age. They worked him to the bone just as much as the adults. Having been branded a thief, he will forever be recognized, unless he can discover a means of removing the sign of his crime.

Deuce was the offspring of a halfling barmaid who became the payment of her employer when he lost a significantly large game of dice. The winner of the game was a very unpleasant mercenary who apparently was not known for his gentle nature. His mother named him Deuce in memory of that fateful roll of the dice. She also affectionately called him her little “quarterling.”

She was not unkind to him, but he never knew his father. He decided it was probably better off that way, considering how he was begotten and the reputation of his father. Being a barmaid meant she had most of the morning off every day and she taught him to read and write and basic arithmetic. He didn’t have an advanced education but he was a bright young lad and learned very quickly. He also learned a lot from the patrons of the tavern. There was the occasional story-teller from whom he would learn his history, even if that history was always somewhat embellished. He learned to throw daggers by watching some of the competitions. The regulars started placing bets on how well he would throw instead of against each other. He became quite good with that much practice.

When the nights would drag on, he would leave the tavern under the premise of going to bed and stalk the alleys and rooftops of the city. He was quickly caught by a local thief, named Maben, who apparently did not like Deuce trespassing on his turf. Being only eight years old, Maben decided he wasn’t much of a threat and taught him a few minor things like how to pick a basic lock and how to move more quietly. Although it was only a few lessons before Maben was caught by the guard while trying to burglar the watch captain’s own house, and was killed “resisting arrest.” Deuce knew this to be a lie, because one of Maben’s first lessons was, “Never fight guards. Run or give up. You can get out of jail, but not the grave.” Maben would have given up if cornered and been thinking about the first opportunity to break free. He never would have fought four city guards, especially when one was the Captain himself.

After that, Deuce was alone at night. His mother worked until late into the morning hours and he never went to bed early. Eventually he got better and better at running. He managed to convince people he was a very young child instead of the adolescent he actually was. One night he returned to the tavern late, and there were two city guards outside talking to the owner. Deuce was immediately afraid they were looking for him, but it appeared there had been some sort of fight. The guards had a man in shackles tied up by the horses. He had been beaten badly, but looked like he could still take down an ogre. He snuck up to listen in on the conversation and heard the owner say, “…just hit her once. A solid blow to the face. Ya heard the sickening crunch and she just fell back and smacked her head on the table behind her. I think she was dead before she hit the floor… Damn shame. She was a good worker and had a little boy. He should be around here somewhere.” Deuce’s heart sank and he began to cry as silently as he could. After sitting in the shadows shaking for what seemed to be hours, he realized he was truly alone at ten years old. He never went back to that tavern.

For three years, things went fine. He always managed to scrape by. Never had a lot, but always managed to get enough to eat and find a place to stay. Winters were the worst. Food got a lot scarcer and he often lost weight he could ill afford to lose. That all changed when he was given a job by a man named Franklin Riley. He was a local merchant who apparently wanted a rise in station. He asked around for someone who could sneak into a place and take a small item and get out undetected. Through the beggars and homeless, he found Deuce. It was too good of an opportunity to pass up for a thirteen year old homeless “quarterling.” He was to gain entrance into the office of a respectable local business man and steal his supplier list and trade routes. He was willing to pay Deuce enough money to feed him for the next two months. It was a mere fluke that betrayed him. Being little over confident, he didn’t close his means of entering behind him. It seems the owner of the property had decided to go back to his office late that night for unknown reasons and saw the upstairs window open. He silently called the guards, and they were all waiting for Deuce when he came out with the property in his hand. He managed to cut a deal by ratting on the merchant who hired him.

This brings us to the present day. Deuce has served half his sentence, and is being transferred to another facility to serve out the remainder of his time. In transit, however, he is part of a group of prisoners who are broken out of the transport and now appear to be indebted to their new savior.