Dead Rat deserter
“Me? Betray the gang?” I said. Then the steel came out, and
I barely made it away with my skin.
The port city of Luskan squats along the northern
frontier of the Sword Coast. It is a den of thieves and
murderers that attracts criminals like moths to a
bright-burning flame. Luskan is controlled by a consortium
of gangs, war chiefs, and would-be rulers, few
of which last more than a season.
The Dead Rats are one of the exceptions.
That thieves’ guild has earned the respect and fear
of the populace through a campaign of intimidation.
Its members are known for their stealth, their ruthlessness,
and their treachery. It is rumored-correctly-that
the most deadly members of the gang are wererats.
Like the creatures from which they derive their power,
the Dead Rats can penetrate any safe house, no matter
how secure. Initiation into the gang involves a blood
ritual with one of these wererats, imbuing members
of the guild with a sneaky and twitchy demeanor, particularly
on nights of the full moon.
Every member of the gang is fiercely loyal to a
captain named Toytere-a halfling bard noted for his
ability to see the future. Whether he truly possesses
such sight or not, “King Toy” has never fallen to any
of the attempts made to overthrow him. He has frequently
rooted out would-be betrayers before they act,
and he punishes anyone who attempts to leave the
gang. However, your own split from the Dead Rats
was a more complicated affair.
It wasn’t that your last job went bad. Not exactly.
You made off with less than you expected, but like
a good Rat, you gave over the one-quarter share
due to King Toy and resolved to enjoy the rest. The
next night, when you returned to your safe house,
you were taken prisoner by wererat marauders and
brought before King Toy. The halfling accused you of
planning a mutiny and expected you to understand
his need to purge his gang of disloyalty. His bodyguards
drew their steel.
Much blood was shed that night, but you escaped barely
alive and thanking Tymora for your good
fortune. You fled Luskan, nigh penniless and with
only the tools of your trade to your name. Your
destination was the nearest safe haven you could
manage- the comparatively civilized city of Neverwinter,
several days’ journey to the south.
Exhausted, not knowing whom to trust, you
thought at last that you had found somewhere to rest
and ply your trade once more. Any good thief could
spot the coin to be made or taken in this disorderly
city. Perhaps your flight from Luskan was good fortune
in disguise-you won’t have the gang’s dubious
protection here, but you’ll be free to keep all of
your booty. Here you could build up wealth
and power, and perhaps eventually return to Luskan
to take your revenge on those who had wronged you.
Well, that was your plan before you got here,