Matrim looked down for a moment. "My family," he finally said. "I considered myself a scholar and an intelligent man, but one couldn't be more foolish than myself. You could say I dug too deep, though it wasn't gold I was digging for. The Church thought I was a sorcerer, a practitioner of the forbidden arts; or, at least, that's the explanation that was given to me." He sighed, and gathered his emotions to himself once more before continuing. "I returned home from the library one day to find my home a burned ruin, with what remained of my dear wife and beloved children within, cast aside like refuse. I should have died then, and I can't say that I'm happy I didn't. It's almost worse what happened next." The older man looked back up into the horse's eyes. "I'm a bard, an entertainer, meant to bring joy and wonder to people's lives. The Church made me a wanted criminal, and I couldn't find a living like a decent man. Instead of doing the right thing and offering up my own head, I refused to die and resorted to robbing travelers on the roads. Death and misery were all that I ever brought, though I tried to avoid killing anyone." He laughed, but it was a bitter, pained laugh, full of suffering, a sharp contrast to his usual self. "You know what the worst part is? I met the man that killed them, and he was honorable and kind. Taking his life would have accomplished nothing; no evil would have gone from the world, and so I didn't. That is my loss; my entire life was stolen from me; not even my own principles have remained intact. I can only hope that I can do some good before I am gone entirely."