Xavalzo never knew his mother, or how he ended up in Siclus territory. One thing was made clear by his father though; that they were not welcomed in the eyes of the locals. His father never explained why they had to live within these swampy wastelands, but as Xavalzo grew older, he suspected that his father may have been hiding from something or someone. He never asked his father, and the few times he did, the old man would find a way to change the subject immediately. Life was hard for the young Xavalzo, and on occasion he went to bed hungry due to his father being unable to find them food.

The years would go by, just as sand blows across the dunes. Eventually, his father felt that his young boy was ready to take up the family craft. Just like every father before his in the Jal'enko family, he would teach him to be a skilled thief. Training was hard at first for the young thief, but in time he began to learn more and more from his father with ease. The key was to be quick and cunning. You had to keep an eye on your prize, but at the same time be able to keep greed from blinding your other. Xavalzo began to head out with his father, and they would steal from shops and marketplaces, pick the pockets of wealthy merchants, smuggle supplies for shady individuals, and all while doing so, attempt to evade capture. It was a thrilling life, and it taught Xavalzo the key to staying alive on the streets.

However, sands must settle in new places, and unforseen changes may result in ones life. For Xavalzo, it was his father leaving him. Before the sun rose one day, Xavalzo awoke to a rather empty hideout, filled only with a few days worth of food, and a handful of coins. Xavalzo knew the day would come eventually. After all, there is no honor among thieves, even if they are blood related. Though for a short while, Xavalzo sat in silence. He had never really truly been by himself before, and now he felt as if it was just him against the whole mysterious world that waited for him outside his door. He had read books about far off lands, and heard tales from his father as well, but the concept of being able to leave the Siclus region still felt so alien to him. Though, from the corner of his eye, he thought he saw something gleaming in the light from under a pile of rubbish.

Curiosity set in, so doing what only felt natural to him at this point, he dug it out. He held before him a brass egg, and discovered that beneath the egg was a letter. "Dear son," The letter began. "The time has come for you to begin your own path in this world. I raised you as best as I could, and I know you will be able to learn the rest from your travels. You are a Jal'enko boy, not some petty street thief. Remember that. We don't keep gold in our hearts, but we line our pockets full of it. Others may see you as a criminal in this world, or perhaps just another bandit who terrorizes the weak. Just remember, as a Jal'enko my son, you are no hero, you are no villain. You are now a man, a man who will see his future filled with riches if you stick to our code. Now I wish you farewell my son, and I am sorry to say that we may never meet again. I have gathered with a few of my old friends, and we're going to pull off our final heist. As one final parting gift though, I leave you with this clockwork contraption that my father had nicknamed the 'Crimson Crow.' He is yours now, and he will follow you faithfully along your journey. Be wary of where your travels take you Xavalzo, for not all roads will lead you to riches."

His father's words were hardly comforting, but it provided some form of resolution at least. His father showed some concern, but he knew all he wanted from him was to continue to add to the glory that was known as the Jal'enko family. In all honesty, he hardly knew who the Jal'enko family really was other than his father. His gaze set upon the brass egg as it shifted form into something else. Before him now was a beautifully crafted clockwork bird that stared back at him. Xavalzo felt a smile begin to form along his lips as he gazed back at the bird. He felt that the two of them would be able to strike it rich in this world, and that nothing would stand in their way from doing so. Several years of heisting and robberies went by and life remained a constant challenge for the two. He had been able to get by well enough ever since his father left, which was six years ago. Just as the sands settled however, they would begin to blow across the dunes once more, and change would find the thief soon enough. For not all roads lead to riches, but perhaps in the thief's eyes, he'd be able to discover a different kind of treasure. One that only comes from a good adventure...

As a pixie, Ember is tiny. No bigger than a mug of ale, she can easily rest on the shoulders of a larger race. She is a good looking little lady but face is marked with red tattoos. Her wings are light and seem delicate but are easily able to lift her into the air. She dresses in simple, light armour of natural colours to blend in with the natural environment where she spends most of her time.