Amal Kalfir Mansur

Human

Male

28

Amal has sly face, a well cut chin, and the grin of a jackal. His body is lithe but strong, many long years spent laboring, climbing buildings, and fighting for his life has given him a rippling physique. His hair and eyes are the same dark coloring as most of his people, his skin a baked, golden brown. He has no wealth, and so he adorns what parts of his body he can in fake jewelry, though even that is few and far between. What jewelry he finds tends to be real, and it tends to be sold very quickly.

His garb is usually in pale, airy pants and a vest of either deep or loud colors, though he is partial to red and gold. His feet are as callused as a boxer's knuckles, so he rarely needs shoes, though he has some sandals when the need arises.

There has never been one so addicted to danger, which is strange because he also wants an incredibly comfortable life. Oddly enough, these extremes make him oddly easy going with life's misfortunes. He takes the good with the bad and finds the humor in most situations.

Amal is very likeable. Charming, quick witted, funny, and smart. He is also a cold blooded killer and a greedy opportunist, who really only restrains his knife from people he is paid to protect, when it benefits him, and women unless they threaten him.

Amal Kalfir Mansur was born to a common woman. A woman with little means, a few too many romps with important men, or men she believed were important, which could be any man that owned more than one pair of clothing. Amal couuldn't guess who his father was. Perhaps it was the man responsible for his first memories, a bearded face with kind eyes, but he would never know. Amal had recollections of siblings. A crying girl, a wide eyed boy, the vague face of another boy who he used to play with in the street. All of that changed when he was seven, perhaps eight. He couldn't remember. His age mattered little to him at the time. All he remembered was the fact his mother sold him into servitude to pay her debts.

The man who bought him owned a brothel, and Amal served as the errand boy and servant to the guests. The girls treated him like a puppy and protected him from the angry patrons, until one day he ruined a guest's day two years after his service and was sold again, this time as a laborer for the Emir, breaking rocks for three years in the sweltering sun. He grew accustomed to the whip, but not the servitude. A teen is a teen, regardless of the shackles he endured. This rebellious nature came at an auspicious time, and ironically, it allowed him to escape through sheer bloody audacity. No one figured the easy going boy would murder one of the sleeping guards and lift his keys, but it was done. By the time they realized he was gone, there was naught a trace of him.

Amal fled the city on the next caravan, meeting an old peddlar who masqueraded as his uncle. He had Amal steal a few things from some of his rivals in the caravan, and by the time they had made it to their destination, the peddlar was a far richer man than when they had set out. Amal had eaten hearty, and he evidently had found a new career for himself. He spent the next year living on the streets, stealing what he needed to survive, but delivering the peddlar stolen merchandise to gain some extra coin, which he promptly spent on the fairer sex. Life in the brothel had purged him of how many men treated loose women as objects, and so he treated women as investments instead, until he began to lose quite a bit of money and decided to go the quick and easy approach of charming and splitting.

As for his career, he decided to make the lucrative decision to move up from pickpocketing to grave robbing and outright banditry, until he realized the risks were high and yet not too exciting except in a few notable exceptions, and so after a few years, he decided tomb diving was more his forte.

Unfortunately, in his latest foray into the depths, he had inadvertently awoken an ancient evil. A lich that swore to kill the noble house of Malistae. The lich eyed Amal contemptuously but allowed him to live, flying off to the city of Haiekk and terrorizing the inhabitants, nearly wiping out the noble house in its entirety before numerous paladins and mages brought it down. However, as it de-materialized, it spoke the name of the man that freed it.

Amal had taken to pilfering various goods and selling them, but before he could live fat and happy, he was attacked by bounty hunters. Amal had the largest bounty in the eastern sands, and for over a year he was pursued by the best of the best, slitting the throat of thirty hunters and killing a dozen sultan guards, fleeing into the kingdom of Vortigen before he was finally captured by a mob as he slept, and was brought to the maw for his exceptional skills...

• Acrobatic
• Strength
• Blade work
• Thieving

• Greedy
• Violent
• Selfish
• Lustful

• Scimitar
• Jambiyah Dagger
• Abs

Whatever