Name: Gregor "Greg" Horace
Age: 17
(ignore clothing of image; refer to face and hair)
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Personality: Having spent much of his life in the slums of Edessa, the forgotten, lawless underside of the city most nobles and upper class would prefer to ignore, Greg has developed a bit of a harsher perspective of the world around him; and he isn't afraid to share his equally harsh opinions. The "world" (as Greg has come to understand it) places slick-talking, violence-driven megalomaniacs as rulers in exchange for nobles and errants, and as such, Greg has adopted both the skills and mindset necessary to survive under these free-for-all circumstances. While Greg is not a sociopath by any means, and may actually grow amiable among those he deems useful, his environment has taught him to serve his own needs above others... if only for the sake of survival. As such, he will often use his natural borne charisma to serve his own interests; assuming everyone else is attempting (yet failing) to do the same.
(Brief) Backstory: Abandoned by his parents as a baby, Greg was one of many countless, forgotten orphans of Edessa. He spent the greater half of his life among the over-flooded, ill-kempt mess halls regarded as "orphanges". Years would go by that Greg would spend waiting in line for gruel, sitting between screaming, pent up youths until he finally came to the most important realization of his life: anything, even living without a roof, would have been better than the waste of existence offered by what was essentially prison cells in the orphanage.
Indeed, becoming a street rat in Edessa proved far more profitable for the boy than he ever imagined. While "profitable" meant managing a meal of soup or porridge every night, this was by and far considered an exorbitant luxury among his situation with "The Clink", as Greg had so aptly named his prior living arrangements. In his mind, living on the streets was as close to living like a king as one could ever be; sure, the people were rough, and the stakes were always rising. But at least there were no walls. No limits to climb high.
Early on in his "career", Greg would hop to and fro Edessa's numerous street gangs... but most higher-ranked thugs found his attempts of schmoozing and sidestepping more of a cost than he was worth. Living without a faction made no difference for the boy, and after a while, he found such independent living beneficial: there was no burden on his shoulders beyond his own.
He made his own fair share of friends anyway, developing a reputation among the petty criminal circuit for his more refined scams ("refined" among these low-level thieves being beyond a shakedown and stabbing in an alleyway). One such case involved convincing a naive young noble that he was a Varyan magistrate, and in need of funds for his journey back West to meet the bail of the noble's distant cousin. This scam was only one of many... but a particular story Greg likes to share, nonetheless. Such schemes have earned Greg infamy as well, both with Edessa's enforcers of law, as well as with the more organized crime syndicates...
Skills and Abilities:
Adept Persuasion/Bartering - Greg is a naturally gifted smooth-talker, and his skills with his tongue has saved him on more than one occasion from a strangling or stabbing; on other occasions, however, his tongue has led to exactly that. Nevertheless, he's managed to survive such encounters. Failing to learn the values of keeping his own strong-minded opinions to himself, his disposition for discourse has certainly developed from his unrelentless pursuit of verbage... even if through constant trial and error.
Journeyman Daggers - To survive on the streets beyond adolescence, one must learn how to handle a weapon... Greg was no exception. Like most street rats, he took an affinity to daggers, as they are light, easy to carry and conceal... and just as deadly as a sword, if not more so, when catching a target by surprise. Not that Greg has since killed any man, nor would he be much of a match against an actually trained combatant. No, most of Greg's "skill" with daggers come in his presentation, being able to have his dagger dance between his fingers, twist along his palm, and spin from his throws. Certainly, he knows how to slice and dice with decent speed, having seen his fair share of street brawls, but he is by far no professional.
Journeyman Acrobatics/Sneaking/Lockpicking - While knowing a weapon is only one of many preliminaries for survival in the slums, knowing how to traverse a city without being seen is far more prosperous; Greg has learned this quite well. Many sleepless nights Greg has spent hopping and sprinting about, searching for unknown nooks and crannies where he could either find a free meal, or better yet, an unguarded source of wealth. Certainly, in a moderately wealthy city such as Edessa, such prized bounties were not hard to stumble in to... but accessing them was an entirely different story, even for Edessa's most skilled thieves. Greg has learned how to pick the more basic of locks, having bartered middling necklaces, amulets and the likes to feed himself for weeks on time. But the true treasures were left for Greg to merely covet, looking off with dreamy eyes into windows filled with bountiful measures of treasure... kept under lock and key far beyond his current aptitude.
Novice Illusion Magic - Among the many hoodlums Greg has befriended over the years, one older and far more seasoned resident of the streets was delighted to teach another in the arts of the arcane; Madame Hen. While most saw her as insane, Greg thought of her as an excellent source of both knowledge and company, and the two managed to foster a close, almost mother-son relationship. Only after ensuring such a relationship was genuine did 'Mother' Hen offer to teach Greg how to tap into his inner affinities for magic... but at this point, the teachings were short-lived, as the attacks neared shortly after the initial stages of training. As it stands, Greg can only create a small orb of light from his fingers. In addition, Greg is capable of creating intricate shadow puppets. Along with his knack for talking, this makes Greg a particularly great source of entertainment for storytelling around the campfire.
Untrained Ritualist - Often referred to as "Witchcraft" by many uninformed... while this may actually be the case, Hen's persuasion on Greg has helped him see its uses differently. This came on one such occasion where Hen offered to show Greg her "blood magic" in person... so long as he agreed to be the "lamb". Upon agreement, the act was quick; without warning, she sliced a deep chunk through Greg's chest with surprising speed (using the dagger described among his equipment). He witnessed his blood siphon through the air, flowing into a fresh wound on Hen's wrist. Her wound healed in seconds, and her skin seemed to regain some color, as Greg felt his own state become frail and weakened; and he remained that way for the rest of that week. Whether Hen's intentions were truly to teach or to "feed", Greg has at the very least gained an awareness and intense interest of pursuing such powerful dark arts...
Untrained in Armor - Self-explanatory; and it is likely Greg would never have a preference to wearing any of the sort.
Equipment:
Mithril Dagger: Ornate, once of High Quality; but has since become Worn with age - One of Mother Hen's parting gifts... a knife used for many, many occult, sacrificial rituals in a cult that, in an earlier life, Hen was adamantly a significant member of. But Greg was given no such backstory by Hen [and such mystery should remain for the time being...].
Mask: Ornate, Mysterious - A mask Greg just happened to stumble upon during his escape from the city, before secretly smuggling himself into the last caravan party. It most likely is just a simple jester's mask, but there could be something more to it. Coincidence, or fate?
Greg is currently draped in what is essentially a mish-mash of sewn-together rags... typical peasant garbs, the sorts. In addition, he carries a small satchel of essentials, such as a small stock of scrap foods for example, while his newly found mask sits at the bottom.
Ariamis
