"'Twas the day of the faire. The merchants had set up their tents and were preparing to sell thier treasured items to the good
citizens of Elanthia.  All waited eagerly at the gates waiting for it to open.  From the highest lords to the lowest commoners
all turned out on the most glorious day of the year.  But not one man, the Outcast.  He had a scarred and battered body from all the abuse he had been put through.  No empath dared heal him, or they would be beaten themselves.  He was without a name, but was often refered to as " The Dark Thief."  He was forced to live in the sewers, exiled from the world above.  He spent most of his days foraging for food, or maybe a few coins that would fall from the grates above his head.

"He wasn't always like this.  He was once respected and loved by the friends of Elanthia.  He remembers his travels to the
wonderous cities of Riverhaven and Shard.  And his battles against giant snow beasts and fenrae stalkers.  But those days
were gone.  He made one very grave mistake, one day.  A mistake that would eventually cost him his life, his friends, his fame
and his soul...

"This is the story of The Dark Thief.

"It was a dark night. Dragon Priests were invading from the West Gate of the Crossing. The Dark Thief hurried to get there, to
help in the battle.  When he got to the West Gate the Dragon Priests were already dead...but so were most of his friends.  He
looked at their fallen bodies and decided to help drag them to the Clerics guild, and to call on his Paladin friends to place
warding glyphs on thier bodies.

"He was on his way, dragging a friend's corpse, when an idea hit him.  It was an evil idea.  The idea was to tell his friend to
depart, and that his possesions would be guarded.  The Dark Thief shrugged off the idea and continued on his way.  But he kept glancing down at his friend and admiring his treasures.  The more he kept looking the more he was tempted to steal.  Finally, The Dark Thief decided he would drag his friend to a secluded area of the wilds and put his plan into action.

"When he arrived at his destination he told his friend to depart. He glanced down at the items and knew that if he was going to rob he would have to do it now.  He picked up five of the most expensive items from the ground and stowed them in his haversack. His friend returned shortly and inquired about the items. The Dark Theif gave as an excuse that a passer-by picked them up.

"However, before he could finish his story a soldier from The Army of Urrem'tier, a clan sworn to protect Elanthia from such
crimes, stepped out of the shadows.  He told The Dark Thief's friend how he had been following them for the entire time, and
mentioned what really happened.  He demanded that The Dark Thief drop his items now, or face the punishment of death by his clan.

"The Dark Thief cared not to defend himself, so he ran.  He ran for miles.  The soldier from The Army of Urrem'tier contacted his fellow clansmen through a gweth.  Within two moon cycles, The Dark Thief had become the most wanted man in Elanthia.  He had no friends, no one he could turn to.  He could find no shelter except the sewers, and every time he showed his face he would be shot at with a crossbow bolt or an arrow.  He was forced to live the rest of his life down there, alone, miserable, weak, and hungry.  His fate was brought on by himself and the only thing he gained from this experience was five stolen items that no one cared to see.

"This tale has a meaning.  The names have been changed but this story is true.  Stealing treasures from the dead or otherwise is
a horrible crime.  If you want the same fate as The Dark Thief then do what he did.  But be warned.  Your life is not worth a
few items."