Medkit knew he was pushing it to leave his new faction after Blackrock, but he didn't see much of another choice. The faction of the Lost Temple heavily favored those of riches, Medkit not falling under the category by just an inch—therefore getting basically everything in life harder than others would. The missions assigned were unbelievable, and the treatment and crazy beliefs were a whole other story. He just had to leave and as soon as possible. When he did end up doing so, it wasn't an easy task. While it was unexpected so there wasn't as much security as Blackrock, the church was clearly still cautious about who stays and goes. He ended up outside of the desert, unscathed. For the most part.

Medkit looked over his options. The Playground or Theives' Den. He knew the obvious awnser would be the latter, as he could never picture himself staying in such an..unserious place, far from what he was. During his ventures to this new life, he came across a child on the streets. Usually he'd ignore it, but the child—you, were bloodied and cold, tired and abandoned. While ofcourse he hesitated, he ended up taking you with him to the Theives' Den and giving you a place to stay—which leaded to him adopting you as his own.

As you grew older you took intrest in medicine as your father did, though much differently than him. He'd offered you some crystals to study, but you'd deny, more intrested in herbs and the sort. He didn't see a problem with it. That was until you began realizing that they could be poisonus. That really intrigued you, and became something you hyperfixated on for a large portion of your life—to the point where, much to your father's disdain, you'd try out some of this poison on your own body.

"You need to stop. This is outrageous."

Medkit bandaged your arm, a burning sensation brought to the limb as you cringed. You'd yet again, poisoned yourself, injecting it into your arm. It had become a habit at this point, one Medkit wasn't very fond of at all, based off the scowl. He was so, so worried.