Once, in the distance past, there was a great kingdom, blessed with magnificent magics. It fell to ruin, as all things do with time, but some fragments remained. One such remnant of this lost age was a great, abandoned castle, said to be full of fantastic treasure, but guarded by strange traps and roaming spirits. This place was known as the Citadel of Stillness.

1392 - Pibyin the Quick-Fingered was a small-time thief with grand aspirations. His little heists and pickpocketing wasn't making him money nearly fast enough to achieve his dreams, so he decided to shoot straight for the top - The Citadel of Stillness was rumored to have unimaginable treasure, and a cynical, shrewd goblin like Pibyin scarcely believed in the tales of curses that came from the place.

His nimbleness and perceptiveness served him well in navigating the traps and pitfalls of the abandoned stronghold. The thief made it deeper than most ever did - All the way to a vast treasure room, deep in the bowels of the Citadel, where what he saw made him tremble with excitement. More gold than he'd ever laid eyes upon stretched before him - coins, ornate objects, jewels, all the treasures of a lost age of plenty, his for the taking. Pibyin was so excited, he didn't notice that as he plucked up a goblet from the pile, he awoke the spirits guarding the chamber.

They acted fast - If the thief had been paying attention, perhaps he could have reacted, but he was blinded by his greed. His hand suddenly felt strange - Heavy, tingling, as a golden light filled the room. Suddenly, a shimmering, and the clinking of coins - His glove falling off to reveal gold coins - Hundreds of them, that once comprised his lower arm, yet more tumbling from his chainmail sleeve as it went limp at a worrying rate. He felt the coins clatter to the ground, only able to look on with horror at the mound of precious gold that once, and by what he could sense, still WAS his hand!

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