Lyn was born in the Les. Les fortuna. Which amounted to less fortunate. But that was indeed the name of the shrug hole. Les fortuna. His people slaved day after day just to provide while the golden city, Taten, had the opportunity of being happy.

Lyn was a locksmith. Part time lock picker. He stole, so what? He did what he had to for his sister. She was too young to do anything for money but old enough to have an appetite.

Walking down the trashy street one day Les spotted a figure, one wearing a pristine white with golden lace. Not something anyone down here would own. So he followed them, ofcourse.

Turning down the roads until he saw the figure handing an apple to a small child. It was obvious the poor thing wasn’t going to live. Blisters from head to toe and blood all over. So why waste the apple? Lyn thought as he watched.

The figure left the child, and settled in an alley. Lyn watched patiently to make a grab, until he heard soft sobbing. Not a ladies soft sobbing but a man’s. He walked closer to the figure and sat down in front of him.

“Why are you crying?” He said as he watch silently his worries festered for unknown reasons. Why should he care? This high city goon was problematic not… worth concern.