Scoots McGavin grew up like most other kenders dreaming of the simple things in life... apple pies cooling on a windowsill, finding interesting things in interesting places, and world domination.
Well... maybe he wasn't like other kenders.
Okay. The lad was a freak.
I'm sure there could be all manner of excuses. Maybe his mother ate some bad berries when she was with child. Maybe it was lead based paint in his crib. Or maybe it was simply evil wizards. None in Kendermore could really say, and truth be told it was hard to tell whether any really cared.
He wasn't a bully as a child and he was always more than willing to swap findings with his friends. He was more than happy to trade away his field mouse and purple glass bottle for the small emerald, or the bag of marbles and odd colored acorn for the small silver bar. The people of his neighborhood considered him a generous soul for such actions.
As with all kenders, the time came when his feet became itchy and wanderlust set in. As his uncle Mort always said, "Nothing like a walk down the road to cure itchy feet".
So gathering his pouches about his waist and tucking his two daggers in their sheathes, he set off down the road towards Zaradene to see what the world had to offer.
And where to set up the foreboding fortress from which he would rule the world.