My earliest memory is a mix of rats, darkness, the smell of the sea, the sound of wagering and of course, the pit. How many years I spent in the pit, with naught but rotting fish and rats thrown to me for sustenance, I do not know. My tormentors would toss rats in the pit, then make wagers on how long it'd take me to catch them all and eat them. Occasionally, they would take me from the pit for beatings. I'm still not sure what I had done to deserve the punishment... maybe nothing. I remember when I was half-grown, I was taken from the pit and was allowed to attend classes with the other children in the tower. I remember an elf, Urlien Greenwaves his name in the common tongue was. I know not how to say his elven name. Urlien of the snide remarks, Urlien of the smirks, that is how I came to know him. One day he went too far. He now grows his hair long on one side of his head to hide the scars. I've heard that the priests felt regrowing his ear was not worth their time nor attentions. Oh was that beating worth it. In fact, that was the last beating I ever received. I never again saw the pit again, either.
I come to you, my brothers, to enrich ourselves and our family. My name is Durg and death is my coin.