Tentative interest here. Any in-depth D&D lore knowledge needed?

busts open door

Skeleton farm rancher coming through, fellas.

<Snipped quote by Shiva>
Yes.

This looks fun. I have a character I've been sitting on for a while and I think she might be a good fit with a tweak or three. Is there still room for people to jump in?

Here's the character. She's more of a faraway city-dweller, but hopefully she'll fit well enough. Let me know if there's anything I should change.

Faint [+]

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Faint

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ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪

ℕ𝕒𝕞𝕖: Beryl Shev (She has not used the name in a decade)
𝔸𝕝𝕚𝕒𝕤𝕖𝕤: Faint
𝔸𝕘𝕖: 22
𝕊𝕡𝕖𝕔𝕚𝕖𝕤: Human
𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣: Female
𝕆𝕔𝕔𝕦𝕡𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟: Former professional thief (with training more in-line to that of an assassin)
𝔸𝕝𝕚𝕘𝕟𝕞𝕖𝕟𝕥: Neutral Good

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𝔸𝕡𝕡𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕒𝕟𝕔𝕖

ℍ𝕖𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥: 5’7”
𝔹𝕦𝕚𝕝𝕕: Lithe and athletic
𝔼𝕪𝕖𝕤: Jade
ℍ𝕒𝕚𝕣: Long, auburn. Usually tied in a ponytail for convenience.
𝕊𝕜𝕚𝕟 𝕋𝕠𝕟𝕖: Very light, almost pale.
𝕋𝕒𝕥𝕥𝕠𝕠𝕤/𝕊𝕔𝕒𝕣𝕤/ℙ𝕚𝕖𝕣𝕔𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: Faint has a few scars, mostly old cuts, strewn haphazardly over her body. She usually hides them under her clothing, except for the few on her hands.
ℙ𝕖𝕣𝕤𝕠𝕟𝕒𝕝 𝕊𝕥𝕪𝕝𝕖: Faint’s preferred clothing is utilitarian, though perhaps a touch masculine. She often wears a brown, pocketed leather vest over a loose burgundy tunic, form-fitting brown pants held in place by a sturdy black belt, and black boots reaching just under her knees. Occasionally a gray travelling cloak falling down to her knees completes her attire. It is rare to see her show skin aside of her face and hands.

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ℙ𝕖𝕣𝕤𝕠𝕟𝕒𝕝𝕚𝕥𝕪:

Sensible * Diligent * Supportive * Melancholic * Wry * Cautious

ℝ𝕖𝕝𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕡 𝕊𝕥𝕒𝕥𝕦𝕤: Single
ℚ𝕦𝕖𝕤𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟𝕟𝕒𝕚𝕣𝕖:
Faint was lead to a simple room with a table and two chairs. Her interviewer was waiting inside, and after making swift introductions, they were seated. Though she was somewhat daunted at the prospect of speaking about herself, Faint felt at ease. As far as she could tell, there was no reason to expect danger, and even if there was, they had not searched her before leading her in.
What first impression do you make?
She rose her eyebrows at her interviewer’s first question. “I would think you would be better equipped to answer that.” When the quip failed to garner a response, however, she lowered her eyes, hiding some embarrassment. “Ah. I have been told people think I’m gloomy. Some people tell me I act older than I actually am, too.”
What are you like in a high stress situation?
She shrugged. “We make do with what we have. I’m used to dealing with problems as they come along, and losing my calm has never helped with that.”
What are your best and worst qualities?
“I think I’m a diligent person. I don’t know what would have been of myself if I hadn’t been able to apply myself fully to a task. As for a worst quality…” For a moment, her thoughts turned to the strange land she was now in. Alone. All her life she had spent in the company of someone else, and the sudden change was not easy for her. However, just as she was about to say she worried about her ability to be independent, she reconsidered. “Like I said, people say I’m rather gloomy. I myself don’t think I have the most charismatic of personalities.”
What is something about yourself that you would never admit to anyone?
Scenes from her previous life flashed through her mind as the interviewer finished the question. Faint blinked, then replied, “I’m sorry, but for obvious reasons I’d rather refrain from answering.”
What are your dreams?
Faint frowned. It was obvious that the question made her uncomfortable. “I have no dreams to speak of. Until recently I didn’t even think about it.”
How do you want to be seen by others?
“Often times I’d rather not be seen at all,” she muttered, before catching herself, “though I guess that’s not the point of the question. To speak plainly, I’d rather be seen as useful, and inoffensive. Valuable.”
How do you see yourself?
“’A victim of extenuating circumstances’” she quoted, a wry smile touching her lips. “It sounds like an excuse, but it’s difficult for me to re-examine my life without one.”
Do you tend to make snap judgements, or stop and think about things?
“It depends,” she said seriously. “If it were up to me, I’d like to think things through where possible, but life doesn’t always wait on you. A sharp instinct will serve you well in those times.”
What haunts you?
Faint smiled sadly, but refused to answer.
What is your philosophy on life?
“I don’t have a philosophy per se. I spent a lot of my life trying to keep other people happy, so, as long as they were, and we were all still alive, it was enough for me. Though,” she added with a troubled frown, “sometimes I wonder if by the end it hadn’t been something I just did out of habit.”

ℍ𝕒𝕓𝕚𝕥𝕤:

• Putting her needs second to those of others

ℍ𝕠𝕓𝕓𝕚𝕖𝕤:

• Reading
• Wood-carving

𝔽𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕤:

• Disappointing others

𝕃𝕚𝕜𝕖𝕤:

• Books
• Honest folk
• Feeling useful or being depended on

𝔻𝕚𝕤𝕝𝕚𝕜𝕖𝕤:

• Comments about her appearance
• Feeling like a burden
• Herself

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𝕀𝕟𝕗𝕠𝕣𝕞𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟:

𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕖𝕣𝕒𝕝 𝕊𝕜𝕚𝕝𝕝𝕤:

• Athletic skill: Faint has a finely-trained body, with great stamina and strength for her size. Her flexibility and balance leave little to be desired.
• Nursing: A holdover from a previous life. Faint is used to taking care of ill or injured people. This is aided by some practical knowledge of medicinal plants, though, suspiciously, most pain killing herbs she is familiar with can just as easily be used to make poison.

𝕄𝕒𝕘𝕚𝕔𝕒𝕝/𝕊𝕡𝕖𝕔𝕚𝕒𝕝𝕥𝕪 𝕊𝕜𝕚𝕝𝕝𝕤:

• Presence Concealment: The skill that earned Faint her name was her eerie ability to conceal her presence even in plain sight, becoming bland and uninteresting to the eye to such a degree that people may not realize she is in the room. The effectiveness of this ability is reminiscent—and might even be an instinctive use—of magic. Even lacking this skill, Faint’s training has made her adept at moving lithely and silently, avoiding notice.
• Lockpicking: Faint is a skilled lockpick, always equipped to break her way into places she shouldn’t.
• Knife Nut: Faint is frighteningly effective with her chosen weapons. She wields her long knives with a deadly grace almost reminiscent of a martial dance. Even should she find herself without these, she is rarely without several spare throwing knives and short daggers.
• Unarmed combatant: While not as deadly as with her knives, her mentor would not allow for her to be defenseless while unarmed. Faint is a flexible and able combatant, trained in techniques to incapacitate opponents as practically and quickly as possible. These typically revolve around striking the body’s weak points, such as solar plexus, crotch or throat, or holds that don’t require her to leverage a lot of weight.
• Inner Focus: Aided by breathing and meditative techniques, Faint can sharpen her senses of hearing and smell, and even control her body’s temperature to a degree. This latter ability was gained in training meant to aid survival in harsh environments, but she has found it useful to avoid security measures that detect a person’s body heat.

𝕀𝕟𝕧𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕪:

• Satchel: Usually tied to her waist. Contains her coin purse and her lockpicking tools.
• Lockpicking tools: As expected, tools used to open locked doors and containers.
• Long knives: A set of thin, curved knives almost long enough to be sabres. She often carries these sheathed at her hips when traveling or otherwise expecting trouble.
• Spare/Throwing knives: A number of knives hidden on her person. If one pays close enough attention, they may see a handle peeking from under her boot, or subtle bumps under loose sleeves.

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ℍ𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕪:

Long version [+]

Faint—though she did not go by that name at the time—was born in a port town, the third child of a skilled carpenter and his wife. Unfortunately, tragedy struck early in her life, and a virulent plague streaked from overseas. Her father fell victim to the disease, as did her oldest sibling. Her mother also contracted the plague, and though she survived, it left her crippled and bedridden.

Faint does not remember any of this, aside from small tidbits recounted by her mother and her older brother, who, like her, had recovered from the affliction. Her earliest, most tender memories of her life are those of being held in her mother’s frail arms. Soon, however, she took it upon herself to tend to her mother’s every need, however a small girl barely half a decade old could. At first, by taking the coin proffered by her bedridden mother to buy kindling for the hearth. Later, as the coin began to dry, by gathering dung from stables near the city’s edge. Later still, when the charity from friends pitying the poor widow and her children turned to annoyance, she begged or took food off stalls to bring it home. She would occasionally change her clothes and clean her bed sores. She helped support the woman’s meager weight once they lost the rights to their home and had to move to a hovel in the slums. Most of all, she avoided her brother as best she could.

Her brother did not take their misfortune in stride the same way Faint had. He remembered the time before their father had passed, and missed them deeply. The sight of his weakened mother terrified and angered him, to the point where he avoided her as much as he could. He fell into a kind of resigned indolence, idling his days away until he found his way to questionable circles. Soon, he began to resent his little sister’s earnest efforts to sustain the nightmare he lived with. It started as an accident. He may have even regretted it, at first, but it did not take long for beatings to become the norm.

Faint did not understand why the change had happened, but she knew from then on that the house had become dangerous. She moved quietly at all times. Eyes cast down, a presence once lively turned mute and silent. She learned to go unnoticed. Her mother noticed the welts and bruises, and worried, but Faint had no words to explain her situation, and her mother, though she suspected, did not have the strength to pursue the cause.

Faint still had not reached her tenth birthday before that strength failed. One day, she woke to find her mother had passed. Panicked, she set out to find her brother herself for the first time in years, hoping for him to tell her what to do. He had nothing to tell her. The next day, he took his mother’s remains and buried them. The beatings stopped, not to resume.

Faint continued to go out to the streets to find what the family might need to survive, but without her patient, she found herself with time left over to grieve. There was a hope there, however, that now that her mother had gone things might be different between her and her brother.

This hope died one night, when she overheard her brother speaking with some friends of his. One of the topics was the fact that the siblings’ parents had left them nothing to live off of after they passed. A frightful suggestion was passed along by one of the men speaking. Slavery as it were was not a lawful practice within the kingdom, but the port was frequented by people of many different cultures and walks of life, some of which might even avoid the eyes of the port authorities. A young, healthy girl might fetch a fine price to the right person.

The words extinguished the young Faint’s last ember of hope, and that she quitted their home that day, taking residence in the city’s streets. Only a few days later, however, her life took another turn.

One day, with the little food and coin she had kept for herself completely exhausted, she set her sights on a passerby’s coin pouch. She did not misjudge her mark and took the purse without difficulty. However, immediately after snatching her prize, a man rushed out and grabbed her by the wrist. Not the passerby, not a guard, but rather a stranger, an old, bear of a man that had seen the robbery take place and she had carelessly ignored. Still too close to her victim, a stolen purse on hand and afraid to make a real commotion lest the man was replaced by a real guard, she only dared struggling and ineffectually kicking at the man’s shins. Before she could gather her wits and reevaluate the danger she was truly in, she was dragged into an empty alley and knocked unconscious.

She awoke in an unfamiliar bedroom and was greeted by the one who had carried her away. Though as far as she could tell nothing had been done to her while she slept, her first thought came back to that night before she abandoned her home, and the talk of oversea slavers. Despite the kidnapping, the man denied that accusation, though only in part. Rather, he had simply chosen someone to pass on his skillset, and added that she would simply vanish if she proved uncooperative, at which point he would go back to looking for candidates. In that regard, she could think of herself as a slave. That said, he would not be unkind. She would be provided with food and a room of her own while she remained under his care, though, of course, she would not be allowed to leave until he was convinced that she would not try to flee.

The pleased turn to the man’s expression told her that her interest was writ plain on her face. A place to sleep sheltered from the weather and consistent meals would be enticing for anyone in her circumstances, but most of all, she realized that she would not be found by her brother or his friends while she was under this man’s keeping. It was the kind of offer she might accept even if she was not being forced. It was too good to be true, in fact, and a part of her dreaded what the old man might choose to make her do. It was in timid tones that she finally asked what would be required of her.

As it turned out, the man identified himself as a professional thief and racketeer, and true to his word, he set out to teach her everything he knew. A large breadth of disciplines was covered, from reading and writing, to rhetoric and arithmetic, down to physical, survival, infiltration and weapons training. The latter training was hellish for a young girl of her disposition, stretching her body and mind to its limits, and her teacher was always quick to remind her that, if she could not do what he expected of her, he would find another. It was due to this, rather than because of any kind of overt mistreatment, that she ever entertained the notion of escaping, but the idea that she might be once again thrust defenseless into the streets was always quick to cure her from rebellious thoughts. Fortunately, her progress seemed to satisfy her mentor, who never did good on his threats to do away with her.

Another might have questioned the nature of the skills being imparted as excessive, but, as the matter stood, the young girl could only be amazed by the skills of a professional criminal, as opposed to a street rat like her. Only later, as her training progressed, and her mentor pushed her to put her skills into practice with his contacts among the city’s underbelly—among which she earned her name—did she begin to realize that her teacher was showing her things outside of the norm for their apparent profession. When asked, her mentor’s only explanation for this incongruity was that he had once been a soldier in the army, and that training had served him well after he had left it. This time she doubted the skills she had been taught could have come from the kingdom’s army, but chose against pressing further. It had already been many years since she had begun her training, after all, so the distinction made little difference in the practical sense.

One day, her mentor caught wind of caravan bringing goods for a powerful noble of their city. He gathered some of his connections, adamantly claiming that the goods being brought into the city included priceless artifacts and riches that could set some of them for life, and began to draft a plan to take over the caravan before it reached the walls. The plan succeeded, but Faint soon learned that the noble had ties to the city’s Assassin’s guild, which usually served as royal spies and killers, and that part of the shipment was, in fact, meant for the shadowy cabal’s head.

It was quickly made apparent that she was not the only one to learn about this detail. One day, while returning to her lodgings, she caught wind that their house had been visited by a complement of guards, and that her mentor had been seized by the authorities. Within the house, in one of her mentor’s hidden compartments, she found a letter folded around a single boat ticket. It seemed her mentor had anticipated such a thing, and had begun preparations to leave the city. Unfortunately, he had counted with having more time before someone sought him out. Later, she learned that one of his contacts, fearing a cull of the city’s criminal elements by the assassins, had revealed the location of the plan’s mastermind. Her mentor was sent to a cell to await trial, but by the next sunrise, news arrived telling of a prisoner that had ended his own life within the prison holding cells. All involved in the debacle caught a glimpse of the strings moving to silence the man.

Only at this point did Faint finally decide to leave behind the city where she was raised.

𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: Faint was born into an impoverished family and lived with her mother and brother. Her mother was crippled by illness and her brother was abusive. Soon after her mother passed away, Faint fled to the streets, where she was picked up and kidnapped by a mysterious man.

This man claimed to be a professional thief looking for a successor. Under him, Faint underwent training that was more fitting for a highly skilled assassin than any kind of thief, though she was never employed in that specific capacity. Over a decade later her mentor was caught and executed after a suspicious job.

Finding a letter and a ticket for a boat at her mentor’s house, Faint finally abandoned the city where she was raised, likely for good.

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𝔼𝕩𝕥𝕣𝕒𝕤

ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕥𝕖𝕣 ℚ𝕦𝕠𝕥𝕖: “People say you don’t choose your lot in life. Sometimes I wonder what I’d do if I had the chance.”

@Shiva That's fair. I wanted to play with the questionnaire a bit, and thought this would make make the character a bit more expressive. Should I actually change it around, or does it get the point across as it is?

Don't worry too much about her being excessively intense in the day-to-day. She should keep that to herself for the most part. The questionnaire gets a fair bit of it because it's her talking about herself, but it should get better once we move away from introspection and get her focusing on other things. Like investigation teams and murder mysteries.

Faint 1.1a patch notes: Added some stuff in the likes/dislikes section. Changed the quote. Changed the questionnaire (might be more depressing than before since the questions she had avoided needed an answer, actually)

Faint [+]

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Faint

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ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪

ℕ𝕒𝕞𝕖: Beryl Shev (She has not used the name in a decade)
𝔸𝕝𝕚𝕒𝕤𝕖𝕤: Faint
𝔸𝕘𝕖: 22
𝕊𝕡𝕖𝕔𝕚𝕖𝕤: Human
𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣: Female
𝕆𝕔𝕔𝕦𝕡𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟: Former professional thief (with training more in-line to that of an assassin)
𝔸𝕝𝕚𝕘𝕟𝕞𝕖𝕟𝕥: Neutral Good

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𝔸𝕡𝕡𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕒𝕟𝕔𝕖

ℍ𝕖𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥: 5’7”
𝔹𝕦𝕚𝕝𝕕: Lithe and athletic
𝔼𝕪𝕖𝕤: Jade
ℍ𝕒𝕚𝕣: Long, auburn. Usually tied in a ponytail for convenience.
𝕊𝕜𝕚𝕟 𝕋𝕠𝕟𝕖: Very light, almost pale.
𝕋𝕒𝕥𝕥𝕠𝕠𝕤/𝕊𝕔𝕒𝕣𝕤/ℙ𝕚𝕖𝕣𝕔𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: Faint has a few scars, mostly old cuts, strewn haphazardly over her body. She usually hides them under her clothing, except for the few on her hands.
ℙ𝕖𝕣𝕤𝕠𝕟𝕒𝕝 𝕊𝕥𝕪𝕝𝕖: Faint’s preferred clothing is utilitarian, though perhaps a touch masculine. She often wears a brown, pocketed leather vest over a loose burgundy tunic, form-fitting brown pants held in place by a sturdy black belt, and black boots reaching just under her knees. Occasionally a gray travelling cloak falling down to her knees completes her attire. It is rare to see her show skin aside of her face and hands.

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ℙ𝕖𝕣𝕤𝕠𝕟𝕒𝕝𝕚𝕥𝕪:

Sensible * Diligent * Supportive * Melancholic * Wry * Cautious

ℝ𝕖𝕝𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕡 𝕊𝕥𝕒𝕥𝕦𝕤: Single
ℚ𝕦𝕖𝕤𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟𝕟𝕒𝕚𝕣𝕖:

What first impression do you make?
I usually try to be polite. At least in more casual settings, people feel more at ease when you smile, a well-timed comment offering some levity or showing a bit of an interest is often enough to get someone talking about themselves. A ‘charming young lady’ is well-received most anywhere, even if there is a slight despondent air about her. Since the least said about my past, the better, some people must also think me somewhat mysterious. To my chagrin, that combination sometimes attracts a kind of interest I don’t care for.

What are you like in a high stress situation?
We make do with what we have. I’m used to dealing with problems as they come along, and losing my calm has never helped with that. Bear with it. You can always find time for screaming and crying once the worst has passed.

What are your best and worst qualities?
I think I’m a diligent person. I don’t know what would have been of myself if I hadn’t been able to apply myself fully to a task. As for a worst quality… I have spent a good amount of my life working for the sake of others because it felt natural to do so. I’m not the scared little girl I used to be. Or, at least, I’m scared of different things nowadays. I should have the strength to stand on my own two feet, but I fear I’ll wind up being taken advantage of simply because I felt it was easier than thinking for myself.

What is something about yourself that you would never admit to anyone?
I’m free to live my own life for what feels like the first time ever, but the thought terrifies me. It feels like there’s a bottomless abyss yawning right there in front of me and I’m just about ready to fall. The fact that I feel this way when I once fantasized about this kind of opportunity makes me so intensely ashamed of myself it hurts.

What are your dreams?
I have no dreams to speak of. Until recently I didn’t even think about it. Sometimes I wish I’d been born to a different family and led a banal, routine, exceedingly boring life, but it’s a guilty thought. It’s not just unrealistic, it’s disrespectful.

How do you want to be seen by others?
I’d rather be seen as useful, and inoffensive. Valuable. That said, I don’t want to be taken advantage of, but, on my own, the only way I can ensure that happens is to show that pushing me is dangerous.

How do you see yourself?
A victim of extenuating circumstances. It sounds like an excuse, because it is one. I rarely like what I see when I examine myself too closely.

Do you tend to make snap judgements, or stop and think about things?
It depends. If it were up to me, I’d always like to think things through where possible, but life doesn’t always wait on you. A sharp instinct will serve you well in those times.

What haunts you?
Gods, where to start? The past sometimes feels surreal to me, like it happened to someone else, until I remember something specific enough to remind me I was there. Like when my sick mother finally passed, and relief mixed in with the grief as I realized I wouldn’t have to see her deteriorate day by day anymore. Or the time news reached me that one of my marks had flung himself off a balcony after a crew I was in made off with his riches. I didn’t even draw a knife, but found myself responsible for the death of another. Or the fact that I never saw my brother again once I left our home, strained as our relationship was, to the point that only years later I learned that the young man living alone in that hovel in the slums had one day marched off god knows where. There are things I wish I could put to rest, and others I’m afraid to. What kind of person would I be if I did?

What is your philosophy on life?
I don’t have a philosophy per se. I spent a lot of my life trying to keep other people happy, so, as long as they were, and we were all still alive, it was enough for me. I want to think giving your all for someone else is a good thing, but sometimes I wonder if by the end it wasn’t something I did out of habit. Now that I’m on my own, it feels as though I’m coasting on nothing but momentum.

ℍ𝕒𝕓𝕚𝕥𝕤:

• Putting her needs second to those of others

ℍ𝕠𝕓𝕓𝕚𝕖𝕤:

• Reading
• Woodcarving

𝔽𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕤:

• Disappointing others

𝕃𝕚𝕜𝕖𝕤:

• Books
• Honest folk
• Cats (small, soft and fluffy things, really)
• Staying busy
• Feeling useful or being depended on

𝔻𝕚𝕤𝕝𝕚𝕜𝕖𝕤:

• Shows of wealth
• Idling
• Comments about her appearance, particularly her scars
• Being a burden
• Herself

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𝕀𝕟𝕗𝕠𝕣𝕞𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟:

𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕖𝕣𝕒𝕝 𝕊𝕜𝕚𝕝𝕝𝕤:

• Athletic skill: Faint has a finely-trained body, with great stamina and strength for her size. Her flexibility and balance leave little to be desired.
• Nursing: A holdover from a previous life. Faint is used to taking care of ill or injured people. This is aided by some practical knowledge of medicinal plants, though, suspiciously, most pain killing herbs she is familiar with can just as easily be used to make poison.

𝕄𝕒𝕘𝕚𝕔𝕒𝕝/𝕊𝕡𝕖𝕔𝕚𝕒𝕝𝕥𝕪 𝕊𝕜𝕚𝕝𝕝𝕤:

• Presence Concealment: The skill that earned Faint her name was her eerie ability to conceal her presence even in plain sight, becoming bland and uninteresting to the eye to such a degree that people may not realize she is in the room. The effectiveness of this ability is reminiscent—and might even be an instinctive use—of magic. Even lacking this skill, Faint’s training has made her adept at moving lithely and silently, avoiding notice.
• Lockpicking: Faint is a skilled lockpick, always equipped to break her way into places she shouldn’t.
• Knife Nut: Faint is frighteningly effective with her chosen weapons. She wields her long knives with a deadly grace almost reminiscent of a martial dance. Even should she find herself without these, she is rarely without several spare throwing knives and short daggers.
• Unarmed combatant: While not as deadly as with her knives, her mentor would not allow for her to be defenseless while unarmed. Faint is a flexible and able combatant, trained in techniques to incapacitate opponents as practically and quickly as possible. These typically revolve around striking the body’s weak points, such as the solar plexus, crotch or throat, or using holds that don’t require her to leverage using a lot of weight.
• Inner Focus: Aided by breathing and meditative techniques, Faint can sharpen her senses of hearing and smell, and even control her body’s temperature to a degree. This latter ability was gained in training meant to aid survival in harsh environments, but she has found it useful to avoid security measures that detect a person’s body heat.

𝕀𝕟𝕧𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕪:

• Satchel: Usually tied to her waist. Contains her coin purse and her lockpicking tools.
• Lockpicking tools: As expected, tools used to open locked doors and containers.
• Long knives: A set of thin, curved knives almost long enough to be sabers. She often carries these sheathed at her hips when traveling or otherwise expecting trouble.
• Spare/Throwing knives: A number of knives hidden on her person. If one pays close enough attention, they may see a handle peeking from under her boot, or subtle bumps under loose sleeves.

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ℍ𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕪:

Long version [+]

Faint—though she did not go by that name at the time—was born in a port town, the third child of a skilled carpenter and his wife. Unfortunately, tragedy struck early in her life, and a virulent plague streaked from overseas. Her father fell victim to the disease, as did her oldest sibling. Her mother also contracted the plague, and though she survived, it left her crippled and bedridden.

Faint does not remember any of this, aside from small tidbits recounted by her mother and her older brother, who, like her, had recovered from the affliction. Her earliest, most tender memories of her life are those of being held in her mother’s frail arms. Soon, however, she took it upon herself to tend to her mother’s every need, however a small girl barely half a decade old could. At first, by taking the coin proffered by her bedridden mother to buy kindling for the hearth. Later, as the coin began to dry, by gathering dung from stables near the city’s edge. Later still, when the charity from friends pitying the poor widow and her children turned to annoyance, she begged or took food off stalls to bring it home. She would occasionally change her clothes and clean her bed sores. She helped support the woman’s meager weight once they lost the rights to their home and had to move to a hovel in the slums. Most of all, she avoided her brother as best she could.

Her brother did not take their misfortune in stride the same way Faint had. He remembered the time before their father had passed, and missed them deeply. The sight of his weakened mother terrified and angered him, to the point where he avoided her as much as he could. He fell into a kind of resigned indolence, idling his days away until he found his way to questionable circles. Soon, he began to resent his little sister’s earnest efforts to sustain the nightmare he lived with. It started as an accident. He may have even regretted it, at first, but it did not take long for beatings to become the norm.

Faint did not understand why the change had happened, but she knew from then on that the house had become dangerous. She moved quietly at all times. Eyes cast down, a presence once lively turned mute and silent. She learned to go unnoticed. Her mother noticed the welts and bruises, and worried, but Faint had no words to explain her situation, and her mother, though she suspected, did not have the strength to pursue the cause.

Faint still had not reached her tenth birthday before that strength failed. One day, she woke to find her mother had passed. Panicked, she set out to find her brother herself for the first time in years, hoping for him to tell her what to do. He had nothing to tell her. The next day, he took his mother’s remains and buried them. The beatings stopped, not to resume.

Faint continued to go out to the streets to find what the family might need to survive, but without her patient, she found herself with time left over to grieve. There was a hope there, however, that now that her mother had gone things might be different between her and her brother.

This hope died one night, when she overheard her brother speaking with some friends of his. One of the topics was the fact that the siblings’ parents had left them nothing to live off of after they passed. A frightful suggestion was passed along by one of the men speaking. Slavery as it were was not a lawful practice within the kingdom, but the port was frequented by people of many different cultures and walks of life, some of which might even avoid the eyes of the port authorities. A young, healthy girl might fetch a fine price to the right person.

The words extinguished the young Faint’s last ember of hope, and that she quitted their home that day, taking residence in the city’s streets. Only a few days later, however, her life took another turn.

One day, with the little food and coin she had kept for herself completely exhausted, she set her sights on a passerby’s coin pouch. She did not misjudge her mark and took the purse without difficulty. However, immediately after snatching her prize, a man rushed out and grabbed her by the wrist. Not the passerby, not a guard, but rather a stranger, an old, bear of a man that had seen the robbery take place and she had carelessly ignored. Still too close to her victim, a stolen purse on hand and afraid to make a real commotion lest the man was replaced by a real guard, she only dared struggling and ineffectually kicking at the man’s shins. Before she could gather her wits and reevaluate the danger she was truly in, she was dragged into an empty alley and knocked unconscious.

She awoke in an unfamiliar bedroom and was greeted by the one who had carried her away. Though as far as she could tell nothing had been done to her while she slept, her first thought came back to that night before she abandoned her home, and the talk of oversea slavers. Despite the kidnapping, the man denied that accusation, though only in part. Rather, he had simply chosen someone to pass on his skillset, and added that she would simply vanish if she proved uncooperative, at which point he would go back to looking for candidates. In that regard, she could think of herself as a slave. That said, he would not be unkind. She would be provided with food and a room of her own while she remained under his care, though, of course, she would not be allowed to leave until he was convinced that she would not try to flee.

The pleased turn to the man’s expression told her that her interest was writ plain on her face. A place to sleep sheltered from the weather and consistent meals would be enticing for anyone in her circumstances, but most of all, she realized that she would not be found by her brother or his friends while she was under this man’s keeping. It was the kind of offer she might accept even if she was not being forced. It was too good to be true, in fact, and a part of her dreaded what the old man might choose to make her do. It was in timid tones that she finally asked what would be required of her.

As it turned out, the man identified himself as a professional thief and racketeer, and true to his word, he set out to teach her everything he knew. A large breadth of disciplines was covered, from reading and writing, to rhetoric and arithmetic, down to physical, survival, infiltration and weapons training. The latter training was hellish for a young girl of her disposition, stretching her body and mind to its limits, and her teacher was always quick to remind her that, if she could not do what he expected of her, he would find another. It was due to this, rather than because of any kind of overt mistreatment, that she ever entertained the notion of escaping, but the idea that she might be once again thrust defenseless into the streets was always quick to cure her from rebellious thoughts. Fortunately, her progress seemed to satisfy her mentor, who never did good on his threats to do away with her.

Another might have questioned the nature of the skills being imparted as excessive, but, as the matter stood, the young girl could only be amazed by the skills of a professional criminal, as opposed to a street rat like her. Only later, as her training progressed, and her mentor pushed her to put her skills into practice with his contacts among the city’s underbelly—among which she earned her name—did she begin to realize that her teacher was showing her things outside of the norm for their apparent profession. When asked, her mentor’s only explanation for this incongruity was that he had once been a soldier in the army, and that training had served him well after he had left it. This time she doubted the skills she had been taught could have come from the kingdom’s army, but chose against pressing further. It had already been many years since she had begun her training, after all, so the distinction made little difference in the practical sense.

One day, her mentor caught wind of caravan bringing goods for a powerful noble of their city. He gathered some of his connections, adamantly claiming that the goods being brought into the city included priceless artifacts and riches that could set some of them for life, and began to draft a plan to take over the caravan before it reached the walls. The plan succeeded, but Faint soon learned that the noble had ties to the city’s Assassin’s guild, which usually served as royal spies and killers, and that part of the shipment was, in fact, meant for the shadowy cabal’s head.

It was quickly made apparent that she was not the only one to learn about this detail. One day, while returning to her lodgings, she caught wind that their house had been visited by a complement of guards, and that her mentor had been seized by the authorities. Within the house, in one of her mentor’s hidden compartments, she found a letter folded around a single boat ticket. It seemed her mentor had anticipated such a thing, and had begun preparations to leave the city. Unfortunately, he had counted with having more time before someone sought him out. Later, she learned that one of his contacts, fearing a cull of the city’s criminal elements by the assassins, had revealed the location of the plan’s mastermind. Her mentor was sent to a cell to await trial, but by the next sunrise, news arrived telling of a prisoner that had ended his own life within the prison holding cells. All involved in the debacle caught a glimpse of the strings moving to silence the man.

Only at this point did Faint finally decide to leave behind the city where she was raised.

𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: Faint was born into an impoverished family and lived with her mother and brother. Her mother was crippled by illness and her brother was abusive. Soon after her mother passed away, Faint fled to the streets, where she was picked up and kidnapped by a mysterious man.

This man claimed to be a professional thief looking for a successor. Under him, Faint underwent training that was more fitting for a highly skilled assassin than any kind of thief, though she was never employed in that specific capacity. Over a decade later her mentor was caught and executed after a suspicious job.

Finding a letter and a ticket for a boat at her mentor’s house, Faint finally abandoned the city where she was raised, likely for good.

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𝔼𝕩𝕥𝕣𝕒𝕤

ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕥𝕖𝕣 ℚ𝕦𝕠𝕥𝕖: “There are things I wish I could put to rest, and others I’m afraid to. What kind of person would I be if I did?”

Version 0.7 posted below. I still need to read through things again and do some editing, but it's starting to get closer to being done.

Valanthe Vanatar [+]

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Valanthe Vanatar

"Why should I obtain by force that which I can obtain by cheating?"

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ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪

ℕ𝕒𝕞𝕖: Born Valanthe Vanatar, close friends know her as Val.
𝔸𝕝𝕚𝕒𝕤𝕖𝕤: Vasiraghi ("Vas"), Vadania ("Vad"), Vedenin ("Ved"), and a string of other aliases, often invented on the spot by Valanthe.
𝔸𝕘𝕖: 75
𝕊𝕡𝕖𝕔𝕚𝕖𝕤: Valanthe is a proud Moon Elf, which makes her not just pretentious, but extra pretentious. By her own admission, she tends to think that if you're not a High Elf, you probably aren't an Elf at all.
𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣: Female
𝕆𝕔𝕔𝕦𝕡𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟: Professional Cardsharp, Master Illusionist, and Tempting Trickster
𝔸𝕝𝕚𝕘𝕟𝕞𝕖𝕟𝕥: Chaotic Neutral

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𝔸𝕡𝕡𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕒𝕟𝕔𝕖

ℍ𝕖𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥: 5' 9''
𝔹𝕦𝕚𝕝𝕕: Valanthe possesses the lithe, graceful build so commonly attributed to the Elves.
𝔼𝕪𝕖𝕤: The young elf has gentle blue eyes speckled with flecks of gold. They are eyes that appear far too innocent and kind for someone so shaped by her own avarice and arrogant ambitions.
ℍ𝕒𝕚𝕣: Valanthe is keen to distance herself from the flowing locks of hair so favored by other elves and keeps her turquoise blue hair shoulder length.
𝕊𝕜𝕚𝕟 𝕋𝕠𝕟𝕖: She has pale skin tinged with an icy hue of blue and favors lip stick a cool shade of blue.
𝕋𝕒𝕥𝕥𝕠𝕠𝕤/𝕊𝕔𝕒𝕣𝕤/ℙ𝕚𝕖𝕣𝕔𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: As refined woman of noble birth, Valanthe has never even considered tattoos. The mere thought is disagreeable to her, not to mention foolish given her criminal inclinations. By grace the grace of her noble ancestors, Valanthe has yet to acquire any noticeable scars. She does however have tasteful piercings adorning her noticeably pointy ears.
ℙ𝕖𝕣𝕤𝕠𝕟𝕒𝕝 𝕊𝕥𝕪𝕝𝕖: Valanthe favors elegant, flowing clothing in brilliant colors that show off her shoulders, weather and setting permitting. Inevitably, this means that given a choice, Valanthe will be found wearing a very wizardly robe or fashionable dress.

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ℙ𝕖𝕣𝕤𝕠𝕟𝕒𝕝𝕚𝕥𝕪:

Clever * Charismatic * Impulsive * Stubborn * Arrogant * Foolishly Brave

ℝ𝕖𝕝𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕡 𝕊𝕥𝕒𝕥𝕦𝕤: Single

ℚ𝕦𝕖𝕤𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟𝕟𝕒𝕚𝕣𝕖:

What first impression do you make?

"Well now, that all depends... What sort of gamble is this? What are the rules? What are the stakes? And when is it time to quit? Oh, that was a joke, I don't quit. But how much money are we talking here? I'll say what I have to, I'll do what I have to, and I'll be who I have to in order to make a good first impression. Let's just say that I'm quite charming when I want to be. I know how to work a crowd, I know how to work my friends, and certainly know how to work my enemies. Who needs a gun when the right words will go so much further?"

What are you like in a high stress situation?

"The more stress the better. I'm as cold as an ice elemental relaxing on the Glacial Plane of Existence even if you put a gun to my head. When others panic, when others falter, and when others are scared to death, I'm living my best life and I'm enjoying the ride every step of the way. We're all doomed. We're all going to die. It's only a matter of time. What's the point in being afraid? What's the point in playing it safe? I'm only trying to make it from one great gamble to another. What else is there to live for?"

What are your best and worst qualities?

"My best qualities are everything about me. My worst qualities are that for some reason people don't want to see me succeed. Some people have called me arrogant. Some people have called me a heedless risk taker. Some people have called me a cheater. Some people have even called me a thief. And some people have even called me a murder. They are of course absolutely correct in all regards. That doesn't mean they can stop me though. That doesn't mean I have to listen to them. And that doesn't mean I'm going to give up."

What is something about yourself that you would never admit to anyone?

"I have a great big hole in my heart. I'll never be able to steal enough, I'll never be able to cheat enough, and I'll never be able to win enough. But it doesn't matter. Nothing really does. That's what makes all of this so much fun. It's just an endless game and we're all doomed to lose, one day or another."

What are your dreams?

"To acquire enough gold to fill the entire Holimion Sea. It's a reasonable dream to start with, no? After that? Well, who knows? Maybe I'll become the next great archmage or an immortal lich? I hear eternity is plenty of time to collect a dragon's horde worth of fortune. Life is too much fun to cash out just because you've lost all of your chips and it's too far to quit when you're ahead. I'm playing for keeps. I'm playing for the whole thing and I don't plan to stop until I have my own plane of existence."

How do you want to be seen by others?

"Easy. I want to be seen as a winner. I want to be seen as the best. I want people all across the realms to know me for my magic and my gambling. I want to them to remember me. Fondly if possible, but I'm not too picky on how they remember me as long as they remember me."

How do you see yourself?

"I'm simply the best. What more is there to say? I'm a wise wizard, I'm a great gambler, and I'm a dignified member of the aristocracy. To whit, I may also be the most peaceful bank robber to ever grace these sandy dunes and tumbleweed towns. I can assure you of that with absolute confidence. They don't call me Val the Bloody, now do they?"

Do you tend to make snap judgements, or stop and think about things?

"If I thought things through then my life wouldn't be very fun, now would it? Life would be so predictable, so boring if I spent all my life planning. No, no, I prefer to just act when inspiration strikes me. If you're fast enough, even a bad plan can become a good plan or at least an adequate plan. And worst case, at the very least I'll have a little bit of excitement to fill my day."

What haunts you?

"Losing. I remember every time I've lost. There's nothing worse than losing. I hate, I HATE to lose. It doesn't matter to who and it doesn't matter how little or how much. Losing is for losers and I'm not a loser! If anyone says different I'll send them to abyssal plane. I'm a powerful wizard. I can do that. Of course I can do that! Just watch me!"

What is your philosophy on life?

"Someone, probably an ancient wizard, once said that in gambling the many must lose in order that the few may win. He was wrong. It wasn't about the few. It was about me. It was always about me. You all have to lose so that I can win. It's a price that I'm willing to pay. Every time. Without a doubt. You'll just have to bear it. You can forgive me later. It will be fun, I promise."

ℍ𝕒𝕓𝕚𝕥𝕤:

• Performing Sleight Of Hand Tricks
• Casting Minor Cantrips To Entertain Herself
• Writing Ridiculously Irreverent Poetry

ℍ𝕠𝕓𝕓𝕚𝕖𝕤:

• Practicing Magic
• Gambling
• Drinking
• Dancing
• Lounging

𝔽𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕤:

• Poverty
• Having To Return Home
• Responsibility
• Imprisonment
• Living A Boring Life

𝕃𝕚𝕜𝕖𝕤:

• Magic
• Dancing
• Winning
• Gambling
• Coffee and Booze

𝔻𝕚𝕤𝕝𝕚𝕜𝕖𝕤:

• Boredom
• Losing
• Stupidity and Ignorance
• Rules and Pointless Traditions
• Early Mornings
• Physical Labor

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𝕀𝕟𝕗𝕠𝕣𝕞𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟:

𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕖𝕣𝕒𝕝 𝕊𝕜𝕚𝕝𝕝𝕤:

• Lucky - Valanthe is lucky, very lucky, people, often people trying to kill her, have dropped their jaws in sheer amazement at her good fortune.
• Silver Tongued - For all her flaws, and they are many, lies pass across Valanthe's lips like holy truths. People tend to believe what she says, no matter how inane her conversation or how incredible her stories. This liberty enables her to spread falsehoods with impunity, deceive friends and enemies alike, and explain her way out of perilous situations.
• Will To Live - Valanthe is a scrappy failed noble. For someone so adverse to physical labor and so seemingly fragile she just plain refuses to lie down and die, even when that would be the most preferable option for everyone involved.
• Too Pretty To Hit - Valanthe has a noble, refined air about her and a force of personality that seems to remind people that there is great beauty in life. In short, she has a presence about her that sometimes leaves others reluctant to commit violence against her person, even when she really, really deserves it.
• Born Rich - Valanthe was born rich, very rich. She has all the benefits of an aristocratic upbringing and all of the arrogance to match it.
• Perceptive - Being a professional card shark requires an ability to spot what others do not and to catch what others might miss in the haste of the moment.
• Catlike - Valanthe has an uncanny elegance to her movements, moving far more quietly and agilely than a spellcaster should be expected or ever permitted to move. However, her frequent personal claims that she always lands on her feet have yet to be tested.
• Privileged Family Name - Despite having very little to do with her family, Valanthe can still sometimes rely on her family name to get out of trouble. Although this may necessitate waiting for a letter to reach her ancestral home and for her family to once again reluctantly bail her out of trouble.
• Disgraced - Valanthe has been disowned by her noble family. She is the latest and greatest failure her long line of heroic and exceedingly honorable ancestors. To say she is a disappointment to her family is to put things mildly.
• Poor Self Control - Valanthe has a remarkable inability to control her actions for very long. She wants what she wants and she wants it as soon as possible. And what she wants is to have as much fun as possible, consequences be mostly damned. The greater the risk, the greater the potential reward, the more compelling Valanthe finds the wager.
• Liar - Valanthe is an almost compulsive liar. She lives for the story. She lives for the fun of telling the story. What she doesn't live for is the truth or boring things like being honest. Fortunately for her own sake, she is a talented and well-practiced liar.

𝕄𝕒𝕘𝕚𝕔𝕒𝕝/𝕊𝕡𝕖𝕔𝕚𝕒𝕝𝕥𝕪 𝕊𝕜𝕚𝕝𝕝𝕤:

• Magic - As befitting the scion of a noble Elven House, Valanthe is a trained wizard, her teachers numbering among some of the finest and most expensive wizardly tutors that money could buy.
• Magic Specialization: Illusion - While a gifted wizard in general, Valanthe is a pure prodigy when it comes to magic from the school of Illusion. Her illusions are stronger and last longer than when cast by less innately talented illusionists. Worse yet for those who cling to an objective view of reality, Valanthe manages to do things with illusions that seem impossible even to other trained wizards.
• Magic Specialization: Enhancement - In no small part due to her professional interest in acquiring the riches of others, Valanthe has spent no small amount of time honing her ability to magically entrance and beguile others using magical means.
• Passable Shot - No stranger to danger and bad people, Valanthe is a capable enough shot with a firearm. A wizard, even a powerful wizard would be a fool not to be acquainted with the mundane weapons of the age. However, despite her familiarity with guns, Valanthe views them as terribly vulgar and brutish weapons, relying upon them only with the utmost reluctance and distaste. As such, she is unlikely to use her pistol unless she has run out of all other options.
• Sleight of Hand - Although Valanthe is confident that her magic will see her through her latest card-based endeavor, long experience has taught her that one should never rely completely on magic. As such, the talented wizard maintains an impressive repertoire of physical tricks in her pocket to deceive her opponents.

𝕀𝕟𝕧𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕪:

• Spellbook - An ancient leather-bound tome with pages of vellum that Valanthe claims to have won from a lich in a deadly game of cards that lasted several weeks without pause.
• Deck of Cards - Valanthe carries a simple deck of cards with her at all times.
• Karavastar Single Action Army Revolver - In situations when her magic fails her, Valanthe relies on a sleek, elegantly designed single-action revolver to see her through the day. Originally designed for cavalry officers of the Selalion army by the Karavastar Firearms Manufacturing Company, the Model M or Mediator is known as a reliable and notably accurate, if expensive, pistol. As the gun of choice for the landed gentry of yore, Valanthe feels it is the perfect weapon for someone of her noble origins.
• Leather Traveling Bag - To hold her worldly possessions and arcane ingredients, Valanthe uses a quality leather traveling bag that she purchased from a traveling gnome salesman at some point in the not-so-distant-past. However, its seems equally likely that she simply stole it.
• Gold Pocket Watch - The only possession that Valanthe seems to truly value is an ancient keywind pocket watch cast in gold that she keeps on her person at all times. Attached to the inside of the front cover is a worn and wrinkled photograph of two young Elven women wearing long evening gowns. Unfortunately for the curious, the exact details are difficult to make out at a distance due to the poor condition of the photograph.

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ℍ𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕪:

𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪:

"Join me, friend, and I will regale you with stories of my life and many adventures. You will of course have to buy me a bottle of champagne. A decent bottle. Allow me to educate you. Nothing is free in this part of the world and a bottle of passable champagne is far cheaper than most have had to pay to enjoy my company for an evening.

Now, it should not surprise you to hear that I was born the scion of an ancient and noble family. My family, House Vanatar, have served the King and Kingdom of Ilnathalas with distinction for untold centuries. To a commoner like you, it would be easier to think of my status as being practically the same as that of a princess. And before you ask, I'm not going to knight you. Unless you're willing to pay me in gold, lots of gold.

I grew up in the jeweled city of Numenlaur, the capital of Ilnathalas, famed for the towering arcane spires that still dominate the city. It is a city of unrivaled magic, ancient arcane mysteries, and powerful spellcasters. If you should find yourself with the opportunity, I would encourage you to visit. It is much cleaner and far more civilized than this place. No offense intended of course. This is a lovely, quaint town. I like these...cows. Yes. They are simply extraordinary. A credit to your fine town. What was it called again?

As a blue-blooded aristocrat I was brought up as my station demanded. My life was an endless string of carefully chosen nurses, servants, tutors, and friends. I learned proper manners, I learned what it meant to be an elf, a proper elf, a High Elf. To be a proper lady, one cannot just be a learned lady, so I learned to dance, to sing, to play a host of instruments, and to entertain. All in the hopes that it would permit my parents to find me a suitably prestigious match. My parents had high hopes that I would be able to further the peerless reputation of our family by marrying some prince or wealthy duke. Like any good parents of noble birth, they had planned out my life, career, and love far in advance of my birth.

Oh, what a great disappoint I must have been to them.

You see, I was always bright. Gifted even, especially in terms of my magical abilities. I was casting my first cantrips when I could still barely read or write. I suppose I was what one might call a problem child. I was stubborn. I did not listen well to commands. I did not heed the wise and generous advise of my beloved parents as I grew into a passionate early adulthood. I had a desire to live and learn that exceeded the polite expectations of noble society. Marrying some boring nobleman and spending the rest of my life as some glorified display piece was never my intention.

My sole escape in those early, dark days was magic. I buried myself in my books as I blossomed into a charming young lady. I hid myself away from the pointless pleasantries of the aristocracy. And I convinced my parents to allow me to attend the great Arcane University of Numenlaur. Magic I once thought, would solve all my problems. I was certain it would release me from my obligations. I believed it would set me free. Foolish. It was a foolish dream. I know now that magic can't solve your problems, but back then...ah well, I had great hopes for the world.

The Arcane University was a great disappointment to me. It was a place of great learning and it was place steeped in the mysteries of the arcane. But the great archmages were so boring, they were so old, and they were so afraid of the smallest risks. What price is a burnt down a building if it might bring you ultimate knowledge and turn lead into gold? I tried, I really did. I was taught by the some of the finest wizards of the age and learned much about the finer aspects of the magical arts, distasteful and boring as my teachers were socially. For several years I labored and languished at the Arcane University, learning a great many things but burying my sorrow in sweet, sweet wine.

As you may have guessed by now, the life of an arcane scholar was just not for me. I did not flourish under the stern gaze of ancient and lecherous wizards. I did not enjoy their attentions or their favors. I realized that I had to leave. I knew that I had to escape before I set the next lascivious wizard alight. It was no small feat to leave the Arcane University while avoiding the urgent summons from my parents urging me to return home in order to fulfill my filial duty.

Leaving my studies and my family behind, I fell in with the wrong sort of friends as my mother would have said. They were a wonderful group of runaway nobles, upstart peasants, and valiant vagabonds. Most importantly, they were interesting and they were fun. My new friends made me feel alive. They made me feel free. They were prone to acts of great artistry, chiefly in terms of thievery and fraud. It was a very exciting time for me. I learned so much about the world, the real world, the world that lay beyond the gilded cage of privilege. I learned to steal, I learned to lie even better, and I learned how to cheat at cards from true masters.

When my newfound group of friends encountered some problems with the heavy hand of the law in Numenlaur following a storied scam that targeted a minor Elven prince, I elected to branch out on my own in a less orderly place. Traveling westwards, I soon realized that going at it alone, especially as a woman was a dangerous proposition. The further I strayed from civilization, the less I found that my noble heritage protected me. It was almost as if people were jealous and they wanted to hurt me more simply because I was who I was.

Faced with few better alternatives I joined a moderately famous gang. Roleth and his gang were talented enough and more importantly they were clever enough to avoid attracting too much attention. It was easy to convince them to let me join. A powerful wizard with mastery over Illusion and Enchancement is exceedingly useful for a group of thieves keen on avoiding unnecessary violence. In short order, I participated in a number of robberies. I robbed some stage coaches. I robbed some general stores. I robbed some people. And I even robbed some banks. However, I was never violent...well, almost never. I'm not the violent type. It's just not my style. I prefer clever solutions to brute violence. I'm a wizard after all, not a common back-alley thug.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not a saint. I will kill if I have to, but I will not kill unless my life, or the lives of those close to me, are threatened. Now, don't look at me like that. I'm not some villain. I have simply always done precisely what I needed to in order to survive. I'm not a bad person. I'm not evil. I simply reorganize that we all care the most about ourselves. I am merely honest about my selfish motivations.

Eventually I grew tired of robbery, lucrative and peaceful as it was, and following some restructuring in the gang as a result of Roleth's untimely death during a bank robbery, I elected to pursue a hobby that I had been pursuing in parallel ever since I left the family estate in a professional capacity. I am speaking of course, of the most honorable sport of gambling. In short order, I became what what you might call an expert gambler, a so-called advantage player, which is to say that I took money from those less-skilled players foolish enough to bet against me. A vocation I proudly continue up to this day.

Although my string of victories is unmatched, I will admit that I have on occasion utilized my knowledge of spells from from the school of Illusion to my full advantage when facing a particular talented opponent. I have always found it much more palatable to consider the morality of my actions after I have won sizable amounts of money. However, I have always been a pragmatic wizard. I have never scorned the mundane or the wonders of technology. Unlike others of my arcane profession, I did not neglect learning and mastering mundane methods of cheating. Sleight-of-hand techniques and card manipulations are wonderfully simple ways to ensure that the game proceeds in your favor. With that being said, I always viewed marking cards with disdain, it is a unseemly practice and far too obvious. I was far more partial to switching cards or hand-mucking as they have come to call it, using false deals or shuffles to ensure that I received exactly the cards that I desired. It has been my great experience that a true expert player must be skilled in the art of riffle and overhand stacking, so as to build the deck of cards in front of them to their own liking.

Do not mistake me, friend, a gambler always needs luck to match their skill, and I have always been lucky. With luck, skill, and magic in hand I traveled far and wide. I sought out high-stakes games in which to gamble and free fools from the heavy burden of their money. It was a wonderful time. It was an easy time. I enjoyed the comforts and pleasures that only money can buy and the favor that only the lucky are granted.

Eventually I found myself in Forsaken. I hadn't intended to stay for long. I was simply passing through. But I got bored. Very bored. And so I decided to play some cards. I was doing very well. I was winning. Unfortunately, the locals found it suspicious when I won twelve hands in a row and took most of their money. They summoned the Sheriff and I found myself under arrest. Without any proof that I had been cheating, mind you. A tragically grievous offense against justice.

In a stroke of great luck, I managed to convince the Sheriff to let me go. I had heard of the recent incidents and so I offered my help. A powerful wizard is more useful hunting down a killer than rotting in a jail after all. Besides, how long could they really have kept me in there for "cheating" during a game of cards."

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𝔼𝕩𝕥𝕣𝕒𝕤

ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕥𝕖𝕣 ℚ𝕦𝕠𝕥𝕖: "Why should I obtain by force that which I can obtain by cheating?"
𝔸𝕟𝕪𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝔼𝕝𝕤𝕖:

I can't decide on a character :(

This is still WIP, hope I can join and let me know if I need to change anything

Miz [+]

Miz "Vanazura" Kurod

ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪

ℕ𝕒𝕞𝕖: Miz "Vanazura" Kurod
𝔸𝕝𝕚𝕒𝕤𝕖𝕤: Miz,Vanazura
𝔸𝕘𝕖: 24
𝕊𝕡𝕖𝕔𝕚𝕖𝕤: Orc
𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣: Female
𝕆𝕔𝕔𝕦𝕡𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟: Thief, explorer, informant
𝔸𝕝𝕚𝕘𝕟𝕞𝕖𝕟𝕥: Neutral good
𝔸𝕡𝕡𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕒𝕟𝕔𝕖

ℍ𝕖𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥: 6'0
𝔹𝕦𝕚𝕝𝕕: For an orc, Miz surprisingly has a slim athletic build
𝔼𝕪𝕖𝕤: Her eyes are a bright red
ℍ𝕒𝕚𝕣: Miz keeps her hair short as someone would in her profession, long hair to her would be seen as a nuisance. she keeps it neck length and dyed jet black
𝕊𝕜𝕚𝕟 𝕋𝕠𝕟𝕖: Her skin is a pale green, with slightly darker shades of green around her body
𝕋𝕒𝕥𝕥𝕠𝕠𝕤/𝕊𝕔𝕒𝕣𝕤/ℙ𝕚𝕖𝕣𝕔𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: She has a modified tattoo of her clan's symbol on her back as well as shaded tattoos that cover her arms
ℙ𝕖𝕣𝕤𝕠𝕟𝕒𝕝 𝕊𝕥𝕪𝕝𝕖: Miz's clothing is a mixture of comfort and ragged, she has never been one for elegant things she could not get monetary use from. she is fond of sleeveless clothing which is mainly what she sticks to in terms of shirts. Most of her clothing consists of old tattered khaki pants, black leather boots and a tattered midriff bearing shirt.

ℙ𝕖𝕣𝕤𝕠𝕟𝕒𝕝𝕚𝕥𝕪:

Independent * * Empathetic * Cautious * Cyninal * Greedy

ℝ𝕖𝕝𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕡 𝕊𝕥𝕒𝕥𝕦𝕤:
ℚ𝕦𝕖𝕤𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟𝕟𝕒𝕚𝕣𝕖: This is going to be a little different. Instead of a typical personality summary, you get to pretend your character is answering a questionnaire! Just answer the following in character.

What first impression do you make?
"I've been told I'm rude, cynical, greedy, blah blah blah I've heard it all. People who meet me for the first time say that they can feel the aura of cynicism radiating from me. When you're in my line of work, it's hard not to be cynical. It's not my fault If most of the people I meet with can't be trusted"

What are you like in a high stress situation?
"I'm used to high stress situations, especially ones that get a little...messy. I mean I get a little tense, but who doesn't? I don't freeze up like some scared little child"

What are your best and worst qualities?
"My best qualities? I dunno, uh...oh, I tell everyone this, YOU scratch my back, I scratch yours and expect it scratched as soon as possible, I don't like being in debt to people. As for other positive things, well I don't care where you come from, or what you are. If you ask me, people are too hung up today about race these days. Worst qualities, I got a whole lotta those, to start off I guess my greed sometimes gets in the way of whats important. What do you expect, I'm a...collector of valuable goods, I don't have time for morals and all that other stuff. I'm slow to trust others, extremely slow, comes with the territory, don't expect me to show it if you haven't earned it. Where I come from trust, much like respect is earned not given."

What is something about yourself that you would never admit to anyone?
"There's...a reason I left my clan. This tattoo on my back was modified to throw off people from my town, I guess you could say I'm hiding out. I killed someone back in my hometown, but that bastard had it coming. I'm always looking over my shoulder wondering if today's my last day. Hmph I guess that's where my lack of trust comes from. But you know, even though I hated that trash's guts, I wish...I wish I hadn't killed him, I wish things had worked out differently. Sometimes it's hard to sleep, I still see his face in my dreams."

What are your dreams?
"You know, if we're being honest, I'd like to make enough money to buy my way out of anything, money talks, isn't that what you humans say?"

How do you want to be seen by others?
"I don't care how people see me, or what anyone thinks of me. I want to be seen as the girl no one messes with and gets what she's owed, if people have a problem with that, tough.

How do you see yourself?
"I'm just your average girl who loves money and doesn't take crap from anyone. I'm the type of girl who knows what she wants and knows how to get it"

Do you tend to make snap judgements, or stop and think about things?
"Sometimes, A lot of my work requires snap judgements, as for stopping to think about things well there's not a lot of time for that. In my opinion people who take too long to think are the ones who lose out and I don't like to lose.

What haunts you?
What do you want me to start with, the fact that I might never see my family again? The fact that I killed someone? Living each day like it's my last? That I disappointed the only person in the world I actually care about? You want to hear about how I can never face my sister again? There's a lot of things that haunt me, I just...try not to let it get to me.

What is your philosophy on life?
Take what you can, give nothing in return.

ℍ𝕒𝕓𝕚𝕥𝕤:

• Item A
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ℍ𝕠𝕓𝕓𝕚𝕖𝕤:

• Item A
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𝔽𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕤:

• Item A
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𝕃𝕚𝕜𝕖𝕤:

• Item A
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𝔻𝕚𝕤𝕝𝕚𝕜𝕖𝕤:

• Item A
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𝕀𝕟𝕗𝕠𝕣𝕞𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟:

𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕖𝕣𝕒𝕝 𝕊𝕜𝕚𝕝𝕝𝕤:

• Item A
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𝕄𝕒𝕘𝕚𝕔𝕒𝕝/𝕊𝕡𝕖𝕔𝕚𝕒𝕝𝕥𝕪 𝕊𝕜𝕚𝕝𝕝𝕤:

• Item A
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𝕀𝕟𝕧𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕪:

• Item A
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ℍ𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕪:

𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: Minimal two paragraphs consisting of at least four medium length sentences.

𝔼𝕩𝕥𝕣𝕒𝕤

ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕥𝕖𝕣 ℚ𝕦𝕠𝕥𝕖: Something they say a lot or live by
𝔸𝕟𝕪𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝔼𝕝𝕤𝕖: