Dear Dege #6 - Salt in the Wounds
The name's Salazar Saltzman, but me wanted posters say "Salty". I been thievering for damn near all my life. Me parents passed when I was a boy, but me ma was always stuporstitious. Whenever she'd break some sorta rule, she'd throw a pinch o salt over her shoulder. I remember the day she died, she didn't have no salt on her. I was s'pose to pick some up from the store, but I was playin outside. Ever since, I been livin on the streets and I always have salt with me. As I grew older I carried more and more salt with me as me adventures took me away from the city I grew in.
One day I get a letter from some old rich guy that he could use my services. I show up at his mansion and there's a couple other guys there sayin they gots the same letter. Nobody is at the door to greet us so we go in. This guy's rich, so I start explorin' for trinkets with me giant sack o salt over me shoulder. As I cross every archway I'm dropping salt for luck. It ain't failed me yet. I find this beautiful wood box with silk over it. I pop it open and there's a heaping pile of salt. It was light pink, I knew this was some rare salt, so I had to lick it. It damn near cut my tongue it was so salty - grade A stuff. Suddenly I hear someone comin' and hide inside it. Turns out there's a dead body inside.
...to be continued...
Salty - human rogue, DnD 3.5