Alleycat is a swarthy Human standing three or four inches under six feet and weighing around 165 pounds, give or take. His hair and neatly-trimmed beard are black, and he has a lean, hard-eyed look about him.

He is clothed in black leathers, is armed with a shortsword and daggers, with a shortbow at his back. In addition to his backpack, he wears a sturdy canvas haversack at his hip, with its strap looped across his chest.

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~He's put on some weight. Being the Guild-Master must agree with him,~ Mekkar thought to himself as he sat patiently and waited for Basoro to finish what he was doing and speak to him.

After a moment Basoro laid aside the parchment that he had been reading and clasped his hands atop his desk. "Good to see you, Alleycat. Thanks for coming. And how's the family?" Guild members never used their real names, even when speaking to one another -- that way, if they were caught by the Watch, they could not name any true names. The one exception was the Guild-Master, who was so powerful that it was generally accepted that he could use his true name, and dare anyone to take advantage of it.

Mekkar smiled thinly, but there was no humor in his expression. ~Bastard. Like I had any choice about coming here, once you put the word out. And we both know the answer to your question about my family, don't we?~

"I live to serve, Guild-Master," he replied, with heavy sarcasm.

"Yes, well . . . on to business," Basoro said, after studying the man sitting in front of him for a few moments. "Have you ever heard of a village called OakCrest?"

"Aye, I've heard of it," Mekkar replied, with a quick nod. "It's a little shit-hole of a village way out in the ass-end of nowhere -- just the sort of gods-forsaken place that would be filled with ignorant, country-bumpkin sheep-fuckers, if the sheep didn't have the good sense to stay away."

Basoro's sharp laugh was like the bray of an ass. "Alleycat, that tongue of yours is going to get you killed sooner or later, if you don't learn to curb it. The people who live in such a depressing place undoubtedly have many praiseworthy qualities, but insofar as most of the locals are concerned, I suspect that a robust sense of humor is not one of them. I suggest that you keep those kinds of comments to yourself when you journey to OakCrest."

Cocking his head to one side and looking thoughtful, Mekkar asked "So . . . what is it about little ass-end-of-nowhere OakCrest that interests you enough to send me there?"

"What interests me is the fact that they have recently had an earthquake that revealed some nearby ruins that nobody has ever heard of. And you know how it is with ruins -- sometimes there is some really valuable treasure hidden away inside," Basoro explained, thumping the sheet of parchment on his desk with a meaty hand. "This tells me all about it. And there may well be more going on there that my sources have not yet ferreted out."

Mekkar whistled softly. "That is interesting. I had not heard any of that."

"So, then," Basoro continued, leaning back in his chair and folding his hands across the broad expanse of his belly, "I want you to journey to this OakCrest, and find out what's what. There must be something going on there that will benefit The Shadows. Find it -- even if 'tis nothing more than information -- and bring it to me."

"And mind me well -- don't fail me in this, Alleycat. I'll even let you keep some of the coins and treasure that come your way as a result of your investigations -- minus the standard Guild dues, of course. Now, then -- how soon can you leave?"

~He must suspect that this is going to be dangerous as all hells if he's offering to let me keep the loot for myself,~ Mekkar thought to himself. "I travel light, Boss," he replied with a shrug. "Give me half an hour to toss some things into my pack, and I'll be on my way."

Basoro nodded at that. "Good, good. And don't forget -- being me something that I can use."

~Either that or grab whatever I can, and strike out in a different direction than Taristhum when the all dust settles,~ Mekkar thought to himself.

"You can count on me, Boss," he replied, pasting a false smile on his face as he rose from the chair and left the room . . .

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Mekkar ("Alleycat") is a young Human male, perhaps 25 summers old (he is unsure of his exact age). He was born and came of age in the Dockside district of Taristhum.  Dockside is a tough area, populated by many of Taristhum's rougher population. Life is cheap there -- along with quite a few other things. There's an old Taristhum saying: "Dirty deeds done dirt cheap? You'll want Dockside."

Mekkar is the son of a whore named Farella, who plyed her trade in the suggestively-named "Mermaid's Grotto", and of some unnamed (and possibly unknown) father. Farella was close-mouthed about the identity of Mekkar's father -- which was a little unusual, given how talkative she was on most other subjects.

Unfortunately Farella fell ill and died when Mekkar was quite young -- only about five summers he supposed, as he thought back on it in later years. As a result, Mekkar found himself orphaned and out on the mean streets of Dockside, forced to live by his wits, fast hands, and faster feet.

Mekkar could have chosen an honest trade, and mayhaps talked himself into some sort of an apprenticeship. Instead, he found that he could survive on his own, beholden to no one -- which was fine by him. The lad used to imagine that one day his well-born father would seek him out and whisk him away to live a life of ease -- or, at least comfort -- but of course, it never happened.  Later he came to realize  that men from all walks of life and all quarters of Taristhum journeyed to Dockside to sow their wild oats (another Taristhum saying is "What happens in Dockside stays in Dockside") -- which, of course, only made identifying his father that much more difficult.

Insofar as siblings went, Mekkar could recall his mother speaking of an older sister, whom she had turned out "'Cause the little bitch thinks she's too high an' mighty to earn 'er livin' the way I do." At the time Mekkar was too young to understand what Farella meant, but in later years he found that he sided with his unknown sister on the subject. He did not think to ask any questions about this sister before his mother died, and now he had no idea where she might be found -- or even if she was still alive, for that matter.

One fine evening, the young Mekkar was pulled into a dark alleyway by a shadowy figure. "'Ere now, there's a fine lad. I been watchin' ye, that I 'ave. Ye ain't bad. No, no, ye ain't. But with a little trainin', ye could be lots better, an' thass a fact. Yessir, thass a troo fact. So, whaddaye say, lad? Ye game?" The hulking man gave Mekkar's arm an extremely hard squeeze, which caused the lad to decide that it would not be a good idea to refuse the offer.

As it turned out, the training was a good thing for young Mekkar. He soon learned that he was now considered a member of "The Shadows" -- Taristhum's Thieves and Assassins Guild -- and that all he had to do was to look, listen, and learn from men and women who were much more accomplished in their chosen trades than he was . . . well, that, and stay current on his Guild-dues.

Mekkar had originally thought that the man who had accosted him -- who went by the guild-name of "The Golem" --  had done so out of the goodness of his heart, and considered him a friend . . . until he learned that Guild members were paid a bounty for bringing in recruits who survived, and who developed into members in good standing.

Always nimble and agile, Mekkar also had a passably good head on his shoulders -- and over the years this combination, coupled with the on-the-job training that he received from other Shadows resulted in his being a confident, competent thief -- one who was equally familiar with lock-picks, blades, and bows.

And so it was that one foggy evening when one could scarcely see their hand in front of their face, Mekkar found himself in the Guild-Master's office, being sent out on a mission to some out-of-the-way little piss-ant village named OakCrest, on behalf of The Shadows . . .