Murder of Crows
The western kingdom. A land of dark secrets and forbidden lore. A place of death; both the mercifully quick or the the gruesomely slow. No one comes here willingly. You were born here, and you will likely die here.
Until then, it is a hard-scrabble life. Odd jobs here and there. Some requiring honest labor, and others not so much.
Mid-summer, and things are getting hot in your home town; and while the sun is blazing, that is only half of the story. Whether you crossed the wrong guard, or snatched the wrong purse, in either case it is time to move along. Golotha may have work, but the idea of going there, with its dark churches and fetid canals, is something you might wait on until the weather cools. You hear of a job up in Tormau; an “honest rogue” who more or less runs that town is looking for some muscle. You aren’t so sure what it’s about, but it is probably worth a listen and a free drink.