MELKOAR

Few understand the true meaning of Wealth, having often been blinded by
their own version.  Wealth is relative to anything that someone cares about:
heads, blood, bodies, all things are valuable to someone in some remote part
of Aabahran.  Enter Melkoar, a man who can find value in even the most
hopeless piece of trash and then probably sell it to you as you thank him
for being so considerate.  The deceitful bastard started out as a youth in
Miruvhor, orphaned, and unafraid of doing whatever he needed to gain
prosperity.  Cons led to theft, theft led to robbery, robbery to extortion,
extortion to murder; Melkoar would get his paycheck, no matter the moral
consequence.  Thugging the streets of the Dark City was no safe task given
the strong influence of the Cartel, but the young magpie was determined to
create a unit that answered only to him.  The newly organized gang operated
a month at most before Brehan took notice and systematically removed all but
Melkoar as if they were an intrusion of cockroaches.  Perhaps inspired by
the youthful ambition, the Grandfather of Assassins gave Melkoar his own
band of delinquents, all assembled under the banner of the Cartel and ready
to die for their new Boss.  Time went on, success was had, lives and
livelihoods were taken, but Melkoar found himself focused less and less on
the gold and more on the immense excitement of his criminal activities; he
relished in deception.  Brehan, realizing how useful a Collector who cares
little for money was, put the rising hoodlum into a sort of secret service
for the Syndicate.  After all, there are sensitive times when allies and
customers alike need to pay their debts and one cannot expect every
interaction to go as smooth as silk..  

Decades went on this way, with Melkoar heisting for Brehan and reaping the
financial reward.  The humorous thing about a fed dog is that it will
generally not bite the hand that feeds..  In this case it was the pupil who
was feeding the master, and the master had no idea.  You see, Melkoar DID
value something but it wasnt gold or women or drink, it was Life without it
his heists would end and the utter joy of deceit would stop.  Indulgences
can only be had if one is around to celebrate them, and he took this fact to
heart.  Years of trust led way to Brehan choosing Melkoar for a special
mission he had been planning for generations that charged the thief to steal
a Dark Dagger that, legend has it, once fully charged with the blood of the
living could grant immortality to its final victim.  Unaware of Melkoars
knowledge of the story, Brehan tried to pass the dagger as a mere piece of
treasure, worth seven Collectors bank accounts, confident that the rouse
would dissuade any attempt at taking the dagger for himself.  Brehan was
duped before he even realized..  Fifteen years before the heist even began
Melkoar snooped through the Grandfathers belongings, finding all of the
discovered information on the Dagger, and now his time had come.  It was
just before sunrise, the birds hadnt woken from their sleep and the house
was as quiet as Death.  Melkoar approached the chest like a cat stalking its
prey, ready to pounce at the first sign of movement.  Click, click, click
the lock was picked and the thief peered inside, his blue eyes finding that
which he coveted most.  He picked it up.  It was glowing as bright as the
legends claimed it would when it was fed..  Melkoar knew what he had to do. 
Without hesitation he plunged the dagger deep into his diaphragm.  Suddenly
the quiet room was illuminated by the red glow of the dagger as Melkoars
blood coalesced onto its surface, seeping inward like water into a hungry
pot of soil.  Finally a thump.  The ambitious thief lay on the stained
carpet, unmoving, with the dagger protruding from his torso.  Silence filled
the room once more..  Minutes crept by.  Finally a glow, green this time,
started to radiate from the wound.  He pulled the dagger from his wound as a
newly engraved name graced its surface: Melkoar.  The risen Immortal, bound
by his dagger, took to his feet and vanished into hiding until the day
Brehan was ousted.  The Grandfather is gone and the era of the Trickster is
to begin; who knows what kind of fun will befall Aabahran now..