Born to a whore named Muerta in the city of Portin, the man who now calls himself Shepard grew up under foot of courtesans and their johns. What his mother offered in love for her child she lacked in attentiveness, and so Shepard entertained himself in the city’s streets, getting into all sorts of mischief. It was during his adolescence that the Manchini family first took note of his usefulness, and began to employ him as a message runner and sometime pickpocket. By the time he reached adulthood, life on the streets had begun to chisel his physique as much as its shadows had his skills at stealth and subterfuge. The Manchini’s added to his duties the role of hired muscle, pressuring extorted home and business owners when they fell behind on payments, and occasionally breaking a limb or two when unlucky gamblers failed to square their debts. In between such duties, he aided in the planning and execution of heists, large and small, throughout the Empire, making a healthy profit for the Family through theft, of which he received his fair share. He was very good at what he did, and genuinely loved his work.
When his mother fell ill, it took a toll. The Manchini’s did what they could to help make his mother comfortable during her final days, in reward for his devout loyalty. For this he was grateful, but such unexpected kindness did little to abate his grief. He spent his off hours drowning that grief in taverns all across Portin. In one such tavern he met Szandora, a beautiful young whore with raven hair and emerald eyes. Night after night, he paid her to open her legs for him upon discovering that she soothed his grief more than any alcohol. One day, she quit expecting him to pay. Not long after, they were spending time together off her clock. As they learned more about each other, they discovered a shared connection, growing closer and closer as the days wore on. Shepard climbed out of his grief, and his passion for crime returned, along with his skills.
All this became jeapordized when Szandora’s pimp, Roderick Hume, learned of their relationship. He proved not so understanding, seeing her purely as his property. He came after Shepard, demanding payment for all the time they had spent together. When Szandora jumped to Shepard’s defense, expressing her love for him and her desire to leave Hume’s operation so they could be together, Roderick refused in a fury, demanding that if Szandora wished to leave his side then Shepard must buy her from him. When Szandora refused to leave Shepard’s home with Hume, Hume struck her in anger, and Shepard snapped; he murdered the man in a matter of seconds. In the calm after the storm, Shepard realized it unlikely that Hume’s operation was part of the Mancini’s organization, because he felt sure he would have known of it. That meant Hume must have been employed by one of the Family’s many rivals. Shepard faced a hard choice: if he went to the Manchini’s, he would likely be humiliated but they also would most likely stand with him. This could inadvertently start a war in the underworld of Portin—one he felt certain the Mancini’s would win, but not without bloodshed, and he could not bear the thought of bringing such strife down on the door of the Family which had taken him in, taught him a trade, and given him a purpose.
Instead, he and Szandora packed their bags and fled Portin. They settled in the village of Hearthglenn and started a family. Shepard took up the trade of scout and trapper, apprenticing under the town’s veteran until that man eventually retired, years down the road. Shepard assumed the mantle, with the town’s blessing, and faithfully served in that capacity… until the day that Hell came to Hearthglenn, and his wife and son were murdered.
