Remy leaned back in his chair and sipped his beer. "I grew up on the streets," he started. "Little red-eyed punk kid the locals called 'Le Diable Blanc'. One day, I'm out and about, looking for a good pocket to pick, and I see this belle fille being harassed by a tough. Le Diable Blanc fancied himself un chevalier blanc, so I stepped in to rescue her -- and got knocked on my ass. Turns out, la belle was the daughter of the leader of the Assassin's Guild. She didn't need me or anyone else fighting her battles for her."

Remy smiled, nostalgic and fond. "She kicked my ass for the next ten years, right up to the altar when we turned eighteen."