Character name: Sylvias of Hra
Age: 36
Sex:Female
Physical description:
Her skin is the color of sun-beaten sand, her deep-set eyes are dark brown and her bun-tied hair is the color of shadows. A wide nose and mouth are below her dark eyes, with a strong chin. She's of athletic build- muscular, but only so much as to not burden her speed or agility. Beneath her clothes her toned middle, arms, are dotted and scratched with scars of nearly-lost sword fights. Her most faded scars- and yet, the most obvious, are the ones on her back. They criss-cross back and forth and narrow lines- a tale-tail sign of a long ago flogging. The upper half of her face is covered in a unique red tattoo- a reminder of past mistakes as if her healed wounds weren't enough.
I just finished her bit of the campaign in Battlefield 1, and I figured she fit the bill for the character I had in mind.
Background: Born to a widowed mother in the capital city of the Hra Federation, Hra itself, Sylvias was quickly orphaned and like many thieves spent her early childhood stealing to survive. Loose coins and fresh fruit from market stalls, the dry sun of the Hra Desert staring on her actions disapprovingly. She was an amateur, and looking back on her "heists" as a youth makes Sylvias embarrassed for her past self. Oh, what a fool she was! Luck was on her side. When she was but fifteen she fell into a street-gang of pick-pockets and shop lifters. They prowled the yellow streets and literally lifted merchant tents to grab whatever loot they could find within arms reach. Eventually the merchants caught on and they had to become more daring and daring to get ends meet.
At 18 she was caught by the Hranan authorities for a minor crime- she had gotten too reckless when steeling from a stone-walled merchants house and he drew faster on her. They had no bounty on her, so they went light on punishment. Instead of maiming, they instead publicly flogged her and tattooed her face with the Rectification Mark- a unique pattern of red upon her skin so every person will know for the rest of her life that she was a thief who had paid her penance. It would limit her severely for crime, anyone who saw her would be instantly suspicious. No longer would she be able to work small jobs and steal- she'd be under surveillance constantly in The Federation of Hra. But she didn't give up; Instead, she took the dive and went full thief. Stealing from people's homes, fighting, and perhaps if it was necessary, even murdering to get her money. She would never be captured again- she'd die before she lost a hand. Under darkness of night she began her long career as a robber. She began her own street gang and organized them. The group didn't have a name; they were just people who followed Slyvias' guidance.
She was not a murderer until she turned 24. That was day she would not forget. A hired guard came across her and two others stealing valuable heirlooms from a noblewoman's estate. She drew her sabre in hand she, for the first time in her life, engaged in a life and death duel. His spear was deadly- a stab scar next to her navel is the reminder of his thrust that penetrated her defense. But he over extended and not even meaning too ended his life with a swift cut to the neck. They fled the scene with the treasure and disappeared into the night- her red shirt barely obscuring her crimson blood.
She had come to learn the first kill was the easiest. Three men and one woman had since met their ends on her blades yet, and the least she could do was remember them. Whether in a memory, or in an unfortunate wound. Sometimes both. Every cut was a reminder of her mortality- and she kept that in mind. If you lost track of your mortality, you thought you were invincible. Many of her protege's had ignorantly assumed they could not die- and did just that.
Much to her chagrin, she had begun accumulating notoriety. Hranan authorities were searching for her party. Someone slipped somewhere, and they found their hideout. Two more sword wounds and two more kills later, she barely managed to escape. She did not know the fate of the rest of her group- she saw many of them fall in the skirmish, and one dive out the window onto an opposite roof. So she fled north where her strange markings would not be recognized, where Sylvias of Hra begin again with the thief's greatest gift- anonymity. A year on the road- stopping her journey and starting it again, finding her way eventually to Sarkel.
Word spreads fast in the underworld, and a shadowy messenger from the Thieves' Guild offered her a job. How couldn't she accept?
Possessions: A curved dagger and sabre.
Current wealth: 51 Ducals. She was just getting started.
Hidden
8 yrs ago
Post by
Stekkmen
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