Shu

FORGOTTEN REALMS - Gambit of Scoundrels

“You should not speak into an empty corner, people might think you are mad.”

The lithe form of the woman suddenly faded inwards as if she were stepping back into a dark shadow before disappearing right before Leon completely. The man would feel a slight sting as the right side of his neck was suddenly flicked by the unmistakable shape of a finger.

“Nor should you speak to a stranger in the shadows so carelessly, it is not a safe thing where I am from, human.”

The woman stood now behind Leon, completely disinterested in him for the most part - her eyes lain on Lord Hastlon as he spoke further, “Over the past several weeks I have dispatched agents to Scardale Town. They have… sent word on the goings on in the fallen city. The good people of the dale have no idea the danger and evils that fester within. Thieves and street gangs are the least of concerns now. I have since approached the governor and members of the council with this information and still they remain noncommittal.” Hastlon’s upper lipped and inner brow crinkled into a sneer. “I can no longer sit idle while gods-know-what stirs within our capital. And there are many others that feel the same.”

“And so you seek to hire adventurers and mercenaries to destroy the growing threat you speak of in Scardale Town.” the Helmite woman pointedly stated, many heads in the room turning to her and then back up to Lord Hastlon expectantly.

“Yes.” Hastlon replied flatly. “I wish it were something I was not compelled to do. I do loathe going beyond the governor and my fellows. But I cannot waste time appealing over and over while we sit vulnerable. I am a man of action.” A pause. “I do not expect all of you to reclaim the city entirely on your own. You will, should you all accept to be part of this, have my support and the support of my agents in this difficult endeavor. Not to mention there are many in the city itself who wish to see it free of the chaos that has gripped it so. And you have my word that you will all be greatly rewarded for your efforts and successes.”

“What are these ‘dangers’ and ‘evils’ of which you speak?” came a voice from the crowd followed by grumbles of added interest.

“I will leave the deeper details to my agents whom you will all meet when you arrive on the outskirts of the city,” Hastlon said carefully, “but I will tell you that there is a particular criminal organization that have quite ambitiously begun taking over the entire city in the past two months. And then there is also report of a new cult and wizard activity.”

More grumbles of uncertainty followed by a third person turning on their heels and marching toward the far door. Lord Hastlon stiffened visibly, eyes darting about the room, obviously looking for anyone else who may turn to leave. But no one did which made the noble relax after a moment.

He is keeping something from us all, Iliskra thought, I just wonder the gravity and implications of whatever it is.

FORGOTTEN REALMS - Gambit of Scoundrels

“Oi’, is that Lord Hastlon?” asked one man.

“No, you bucket, that’s the steward or… whatever e’ is.” snapped another.

Standing now at the diverging platform of the upward staircase at the back of the foyer was a rotund man of modest height with a short-cut white beard and poorly combed thinning hair to match. His cream-colored jerkin laced tight enough to present his girth in full and the golden breeches and sequined shoes he wore making him look quite dandyish. He was the one who had first allowed the armed arrivals into the mansion just short of an hour ago after everyone had been standing out in the cold for who knows how long. As all eyes rested on him the man raised his arms up halfway, palms facing downward. “Good evening,” the man began, his voice smooth and tone practiced, “I know you are all eager to see Lord Hastlon, to hear of this grand foray of his and the rewards to be had.”

Scattered grumbles flitted about the room.

“I apologize for my lord, he had a sudden affair that needed to be tended. He shall be down straight away. Your patience has been greatly appreciated as his lordship knows that this has been a long journey for some of you, particularly in this treacherous winter. I hope you all have enjoyed the wine, a well-aged Arabellan Dry!”

Damn, Iliskra thought slightly woefully, I do adore Arabellan Dry…

“Lord Hastlon has plenty more hospitality to offer, rest assured -…”

“That will do Virjas.”

The portly man’s voice stopped, his head turning to his right toward the top of the stairs - everyone else in the room following in suit. There stood without a doubt the man that had to be Lord Berald Hastlon, patron of the Hastlon noble house and one of the nine councilmen of the Scardale’s provisional government - known to many as the “government in exile”. Iliskra knew somewhat about the councilman and frankly his appearance fit quite well with the scattered murmurings and passing conversations she had picked up on him since coming to Scardale. He was tall and sturdily built, his wide shoulders and chest noticeable even in the heavy green dress coat and light brown vest he wore. His face was expressionless, cold one might even say. His sharp, thick brows, half-lidded eyes, and strong jaw gave him the look of an uncaring type. His neatly trimmed mustache and goatee painting a sort of refinement about him. He descended down the stairs, brisk but not in a show of hurriedness. Everyone had gone quiet, even the more mouthy of the mercenaries present.

The steward Virjas dipped his head humbly and stepped back as the nobleman took the center piece of the stairs. His narrowed eyes passed over the mottled collection of warriors, mages, rogues, and other sorts - his face betraying neither dissatisfaction or impressment. He simply took a moment to observe those that had answered his call for able venturers. The sun was nearly set and the small amount of light that bled through the purple stained class behind Lord Hastlon washed over him. This and the great chandelier that hung just overhead gave him an even more regal appearance.

“I see my call did not go ignored.” Hastlon stated the obvious with a wry half-smile, clasping his hands behind his back. “I am of course Lord Berald Hastlon, and I am the reason you are all here. Rather, I have a reason to have all of you here before me.”

Lord Hastlon let the sharp end of his opening remark hang over the crowd before continuing, “My reason for having you all here is because… there is a matter of grand import to me. Me and the folk of this dale.”

Another pause, and then he continued, “I have need of… worthy and capable sorts for an expedition, if you will. Perhaps it is better to call it a ‘plot’, but that is an ugly word, isn’t it?”

A stray chuckle from somewhere in the foyer.

“My interests lay in Scardale Town. Which some of you most likely know, if you pay any mind to affairs of the dale these days.”

Stray grumbles around the room, several people, including Iliskra, knew that Lord Hastlon and others on the council had been chomping at the bit ever since the fall of the dale’s capital - Scardale Town. Iliskra remembered two years ago when word spread of the plague that had stricken the coastal city and killed half of the people there. Not long after that chaos broke out, criminals and other armed sorts took to the streets and the government was driven into exile as it were - albeit an exile just up the river, here in Chandlerscross. Some were content with abandoning the city and leaving it to destroy itself in its’ current state of endless gang war and whatever else was going on within the wretched confines of the place. Others, such as Lord Hastlon, had been trying to stir the good people of the dale to retake their capital. Currently things stood at a standstill with the weak excuse of a governor unable to commit to a final stance on Scardale Town. Iliskra suddenly felt butterflies in her stomach and her heart quicken, Hastlon’s next words making her tense up greatly.

“I will spare you all the pomp and grandeur. I am sending this little… ‘effort’ east, into Scardale Town. That is of course, those of you who think yourself capable and willing of such a dangerous undertaking. Dangerous but very profitable, I assure you.”

Hastlon paused again, his eyes taking in every reaction he saw.

FORGOTTEN REALMS - Gambit of Scoundrels

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LORD BERALD HASTLON



A prominent nobleman in the region of Scardale and a member of the provisional council. Berald is one of the more hawkish councilmen who has repeatedly advocated for the reclamation of Scardale Town for the nation. With a deadlock among the council and Khelvos Dermmen paralyzed with indecisiveness, Berald has decided to take matters into his own hands - hiring mercenaries and agents to establish a foothold in Scardale Town with the goal of weakening the malignant forces that have sunk their claws into the capital. Stoic and short-spoken, Berald is a hard man to read and not prone to grandstanding. Whether his designs at hand are born of a sense of duty to his people or strictly for personal gain and glory is yet to be realized.

ACT ONE

Lord Berald Halston stands before the mercenaries and adventurers he gathered at his family estate in Chandlerscross. He presents them with his offer; an expedition of sorts east with the longterm intention of reclaiming Scardale Town, the fallen capital city, from the chaotic and evil forces that have claimed it in recent years. Berald lets the hirelings that choose to accept his offer and enter his employ stay the evening at his estate and then the next morning they all depart - their destination the encampment of Berald’s spymaster who is overseeing the efforts in Scardale Town.

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BRECK



Born to a humble ranger and his wife, Breck at a young age would become a ranger as his father had been. Quickly proving to be a natural tracker and Hunter as the years passed, Breck became quite renowned as a woodsman in Chandlerscross. He later joined the army and was made a lead scout. Breck’s military life was short-lived however. Despite being a fine scout and a capable fighter Breck’s hot temper and tendency to speak out of line to his superiors saw him disciplined more than once before finally being dismissed. After his dismissal Breck would make a living as a hunter as well as a guide and bodyguard for travelers and at times offered his services to nobles and mercenary bands as a scout. After the fall of Scardale Town, Breck was hired on as a spymaster by Lord Berald Hastlon and has proved himself worthy of the title.

ACT ONE

After leaving Chandlerscross and traveling along the River Ashaba the Iliskra, Leon, and the other hirelings all reach Breck’s encampment after a short, bloody fray with a band of brigands. Hearing of the attack Breck sends scouts out to search for a nearby bandit encampment and after paying the hirelings their “signing penchant” on behalf of Lord Hastlon, Breck insists the hirelings all get some rest and prepare for their coming mission.

ACT TWO

The morning after their arrival Breck sends the new hirelings as well as a number of his men east to Scardale Town. Most of their number are to meet up with the leader of the city watch holdouts while others are appointed to special tasks throughout the old capital, namely disrupting the efforts and machinations of the other three major groups in the city however possible at this time. Iliskra, Leon, and their dwarven companion Ibdur are directed to try and make contact with the old thieves guild of the city and ideally infiltrate and take it apart from within.

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LEIFAR WINGUR



The third son of the Wingur noble family of Chandlerscross, Leifar showed an aptitude for the arcane and esoteric knowledge by his eighteenth year. As he would inherit little being the youngest of three sons Leifar’s parents and certain other members of his family were more than content with letting him leave the estate behind to study among the wizards of the tower. Leifar would show and interest and natural pension for illusion magics and has risen to be Scardales’ most adept illusionist. Leifar is best described as a man both hard-nosed and attentive but also droll and eloquent.

ACT TWO

Leifar is briefly introduced just before the hirelings all depart from Breck’s hidden encampment. He is responsible for the elaborate illusion spell that keeps the camp hidden and also is acting as an unofficial advisor to Breck on matters magical. It is revealed that Leifar’s fellow mages in Chandlerscross are unaware of his affiliation with Lord Hastlon’s grand plan for reconquest of the capital.

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IBDUR



Ibdur is originally from a small community near the town of Priapurl in the Eastern Heartlands. He is the sole illegitimate child of a dwarven mercenary and a tavern wench - the former of whom took him in, somewhat begrudgingly for responsibilities’ sake. Ibdur’s father was a Tempuran Rauthat, a swordmaster of Tempus. Ibdur was raised as a proper Tempuran, harshly and taught the ways of a warrior by his father and his fellows. After the death of his father in particular Ibdur became more zealous in his faith to Tempus - determined to outlive and outdo the life and successes of his parent. His greatest ambition is to become a Direhar, the famed guardian priests of Tempus’ holy sites and great temples. As an Arahar of Tempus, a battle-chaplain, Ibdur acts as both a warrior and a cleric - healing the wounded, calling forth the blessings of his god, and staving off magical foes in some cases. All this when not swinging his twin axes in a berserker-like fury. Ibdur is a callous, brooding dwarf whose only true loyalty is to his god and the very basic tenants of being a Tempuran. He fights for only the strongest liege and has no patience or pity for those he sees as weak or uncertain.

ACT TWO

Ibdur joined Iliskra and Leon after Lord Hastlon’s force of hirelings is sent into Scardale Town. The dwarf personally slew the half-orc thug Gunalar when Iliskra and Leon saved Zilaster from him in an alleyway and has stood by them in their efforts to subtly undermine both the Ashaba Talons and the enigmatic Shagarm in southern Scardale Town though he shows his disgruntlement at all the underhanded subterfuge over open battle.

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ELTHEL



A native of Scardale Town, Elthel has been with the thieves of the Ashaba Talons since she was little more than a young girl. A skilled thief, a silent killer, and having eyes all over the streets Elthel is invaluable to the Talons and at current is the right-hand woman of Zilaster. Elthel is fiercely protective of her leader and her fellow Talons and just as severe in her suspicions of outsiders and “wild cards”. Through war and plague and even the near total collapse of the thieves guild Elthel has remained loyal and intends to see the Talons survive the trials they face and return to their former status as the most powerful organization in the region.

ACT TWO

Elthel is rescued along with a wounded Zilaster by Iliskra, Leon, and Ibdur after being cornered in an alleyway by Gunalar - a half-orc gang leader employed by Shagarm. Gunalar is killed in single combat by Ibdur. After getting Zilaster to safety Elthel - with help from the former three - wiped out the remains of Gunalar’s gang in their hideout. Elthel promised to make contact with them soon after disposing of Gunalar and his men’s remains.

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FORGOTTEN REALMS - Gambit of Scoundrels

RESERVED

FORGOTTEN REALMS - Gambit of Scoundrels

Iliskra the Callous

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”A rich life lived is a life lived for oneself.”

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Art by Nerva1 on DeviantArt. ___________________________________ P R O F I L E Age 22 Years Old (Born in 1350 DR.) Race Half-Elf Sex Female Height 5’10” (177.8 cm) Weight 125 lbs (56.699 kg) Alignment True Neutral Class Arcane Trickster Level Level 5 ___________________________________ I N V E N T O R Y (Notable Items) - Bag of Holding - Camping Supplies & Rations - Potions of Invisibility - Potions of Cat’s Grace - Philters of Love - Potions of Sleep - Antidote - Potions of Cleansing ____________________________________ E Q U I P M E N T - Light Mace - Dagger of Venom - Studded Leather Armor - Cloak of Displacement ____________________________________

____________________________________________________________________________ APPEARANCE Iliskra is a half-elf of Chondathan human and wood elf parentage, her features heavily favoring those of her father - a dark-haired wood elf with “deep olive” skin, Iliskra’s own flesh tone being slightly lighter due to her Chondathan mother. Iliskra is lithe and notably curvaceous in form with sharp features typical of elf-bloods. While not brutish she is athletic in build with fine cords of muscle gracing her body from years of survival and combat training. Her eyes are emerald green and her firm brow and chiseled visage give her a look of sincerity with a glaze of “impish” intent - the half-elf able to freeze or melt hearts with a single expression. ____________________________________________________________________________ BACKSTORY The bastard half-elf daughter of a promiscuous Cormyrean noblewoman and a wood-elf mercenary, Iliskra came into the world disadvantaged and quite unwanted - her birth both a direct inconvenience to her mother and a stain on the noble houses’ honor as Iliskra’s mother was already betrothed to a Cormyrean Purple Dragon Knight of great merit and esteem. A betrothal that was called off the very day Iliskra was born. While her “family” could not find it in themselves to heartlessly kill or otherwise do away with Iliskra it was a general consensus she was illegitimate and a mistake. Iliskra was placed in the care of a midwife at the estate and treated as a ward up until her sixth birthday when her mothers’ father finally snapped and had the half-elf child sent away as the very sight of her was a constant reminder of his own daughters’ foolish, lustful actions. Dignitaries and other visiting nobles would often query on and spread gossip about the presence of Iliskra which naturally worsened things. A week after turning six years old Iliskra was sent to the great city of Arabel in northern Cormyr where she would spend the next twelve years of her life. Sadly, life in Arabel was even worse for Iliskra. She was placed in a small orphanage run by a disgraced priest of Ilmater with a drinking problem. He more often than not turned away those who would come to adopt and would fly into drunken rages and beat the children to serious injury and threaten them to stay silent when anyone came calling. At age ten Iliskra ran away from the orphanage and took to the streets, surviving off of handouts from the temple of Tymora, begging on the corners, and in time stealing. On occasion she would run with groups of other street urchins to raid food stalls and storehouses, though usually Iliskra had to fend for herself as most of these groups of adolescent thieves were locals and cared little for the half-elf outsider. As the years passed by Iliskra’s streetwise savviness grew to serve her well. At sixteen years of age she would become a swift cutpurse and shoplifter while also performing various menial jobs around the city of Arabel from letter couriering to working as a scullery maid at an inn. One night at the inn where she worked Iliskra’s life would change drastically when she made the mistake of trying to cut the wrong man’s purse under a table - said man being a member of a thieves guild from another city. The thief wrested Iliskra away and out of sight much to her terror as she feared he would knife her then and there. However, the thief was quite impressed that the young half-elf nearly got away with robbing him and instead of killing Iliskra he offered to take her away from Arabel and back to his city where she might join his guild. Iliskra agreed in short order and the following morning she and the thief left Arabel for the city of Tilverton. Iliskra would be taken by her shadowy new friend to the man known as Artur “the Fat Man” Grossman - a morbidly overweight and lecherous crime lord that ran the Rogues of Tilverton, the cities’ guild of thieves and other shadowy miscreants. Despite Artur’s glaringly misogynistic attitude towards women and doubt in their ability as thieves and fighters Iliskra was allowed to join the Rogues of Tilverton - in part because of the appeal made by Frostur, the man who recruited Iliskra back in Arabel, and also because of Artur being rather entranced by the pretty, young half-elf. Artur’s daughter Lharae would take a particular interest in Iliskra and take the latter under her wing seeing potential in her. Lharae would teach Iliskra how to infiltrate, gather information, and pick up leads on marks and how to use her good looks and proper charms to her advantage. Frostur meanwhile would take the time to tutor Iliskra in both melee fighting and the use of arcane magics as a thief as well as how to better survive in the city streets and the wilderness. While she suffered no shortage of growing pains so to speak Iliskra would prove to be an attentive student and fast learner much to the approval of her two mentors and the guild as a whole. Iliskra would become one of the finest of the Rogues of Tilverton, a top “earner” that would develop a reputation as a skilled shadow and a trustworthy informant. - Or at least as trustworthy as a thief could be. Iliskra became a natural at using stealth to hit a mark, and when her sneaking talents were not enough her employ of potions, magic, and even seduction would finish the job. Iliskra would serve her guild perhaps not faithfully but “acceptably well”. She was never shy about taking extra for herself and filching items or gold that she thought she could get away with. While she did raise the suspicion of her fellows more than once she was never caught or otherwise proven to be “off the level” and thus remained with the Guild, at least for a time. In 1372 DR, Iliskra’s fourth year with the Rogues of Tilverton, the Realms would be shaken to the core by the return of the Netherese - the Archwizards and their Shadovar launching an invasion of Faerûn. By this time Lharae Grossman had taken over the guild after the disappearance of her father and the Rogues looked to her for guidance amid this uncertain crisis. The Rogues went about their business, continuing their usual affairs in Tilverton as Lharae did not believe the Netherese would focus on a small city. However, in the month of Mirtul the Shadovar would in fact descend upon Tilverton forcing the population to hastily evacuate while Cormyr and the Dalelanders rallied a desperate defense against the brutal Netherese. In the confusion of the flight from Tilverton, Iliskra would be separated from her guild - later learning that many of her fellows were apprehended on the road and imprisoned in Arabel and Suzail farther to the south. Iliskra did not know what became of Lharae or Frostur, searching for them when she could not reach the others. After Tilverton was ultimately destroyed during the struggle for the city Iliskra was forced to accept the harsh reality that the Rogues were no more. Those that had not been executed or jailed had scattered to the winds and sought new refuge and employment, and it was time for her to do the same. After one last failed search for Lharae and Frostur in the surrounding region Iliskra headed eastward into the Dalelands to start anew - however that might be done. ____________________________________________________________________________ PERSONALITY As a child Iliskra was filled with turmoil and a bitterness that grew with her. Between the disdain and abuse she suffered from her mothers’ family and the head of the orphanage she was sent to - as well as from the other children - Iliskra did not experience warmth or affection as a young girl. After finally running away from the orphanage living in the streets hardened her young heart even more and taught her to be wary and watchful of all around her. Iliskra’s self and survival were foremost, no one and nothing else mattered. This outlook stuck with her well into her late adolescence, helping shape her into the young lawbreaker that she would become - stealing from shopkeepers after delivering letters to them and picking the pockets of priests that offered her a hug after handing her a loaf of bread. When Iliskra met Frostur and was taken in by the Rogues of Tilverton she would become more disciplined - the bitterness and seething of a troubled young life chiseled away and replaced with a sharp, cold, analytical sense. While she no longer clung so tightly to the grudge that came with the struggles of her childhood she retained the lessons they taught her. She retained her outlook that herself came first, even when offering her service to the Rogues of Tilverton. She sees all things in a light of how much value is offered to her. Every relationship, every alliance, every partnership - all are weighed in their benefits and risks. Though not sadistic and deliberately cruel, Iliskra is not above acts that many would call cruel to achieve her goals and get what she wants. She always prefers that matters be kept clean and easy moving but when necessary she is willing to do less than commendable things, be it slitting throats or blackmailing a source of information with the lives of loved ones. Exteriorly Iliskra comes off at first as very pointed, no-nonsense, and harshly distant. Though in time when she develops a more positive connection or “working relationship” with someone she opens up, engaging in friendly banter and making the offhand joke. Despite this she is always mindful of those around her, of their interests and worries, their strengths and weaknesses. “Always know your own cards and the cards that others hold.” Lharae had taught her. Even when in apparent closeness with someone else Iliskra always has a knife up her sleeve, sometimes figuratively and always literally. It is this that earned her the nickname “the Callous”. ____________________________________________________________________________ MISC (OOC) Notable Adventures : NA/TBA

FORGOTTEN REALMS - Gambit of Scoundrels

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FORGOTTEN REALMS - Gambit of Scoundrels

“I swear to you my lord - the Scardale will be yours.”

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The Dalelands, a bountiful realm of rolling fields and lush forests, the soil rich and the weather fair with the welcoming kiss of the sea to the east - it is as if all the good gods smile upon this land. Many, many folk call this ample region their home, the Dalelands hosting numerous city-states and lordships that despite their differences cooperate and stand together in times of plenty and crisis alike. This bond among the Dalesfolk as well as their close friendships with the elves of Cormanthor and the benevolent Harpers serve the Dales well and protect them in the face of danger - and there is much danger to be seen that threatens the Dales.

The Zhentarim are a constant threat, coveting the abundant lands and rich trade routes of the Dales. And when not the Zhentarim it is the drow - the swarthy elves of the Underdark, beings that fill the nightmares of children. And when not the drow it is the beasts of the Thunder Peaks and other dangerous places that blot the otherwise wondrous Dalelands. The Dalesfolk are always wary of outsiders for they have suffered their share of hardships over the centuries.

In recent years none in the Dalelands have suffered like the people of Scardale - a small, rugged region that lies against the Sea of Fallen Stars near the border with Sembia. In the last generation Scardale has endured war, occupation by cruel invading forces, political dispute, and most recently a terrible plague that lead to thousands upon thousands of deaths. In the wake of the plagues’ end chaos ensued, criminals and other armed bands preyed upon Scarsdale’s weakened capital - the city watch began to desert and order crumbled as the capital was ravaged from within. The city leaders fled the destruction and established their new capital in the nearby trading settlement of Chandlerscross as Scardale Town burned against the eastern horizon.

The folk of Scardale are at an impasse. While some say that Scardale Town is lost and should be cast to the wind others insist that the capital must be reclaimed. Since the city was abandoned criminal syndicates, mad cultists, and other vile organizations have taken up residence within. The danger of leaving Scardale Town to those of ill intent is too great they say. Governor Khelvos Dermmen stands conflicted, not willing to begin a bloody campaign against Scardale Town but also aware of the threat of letting the city fester in corruption and evil. Day after day he sits in his keep, wringing his hands and praying to Torm for answers but receives none as the provisional council bickers endlessly.

One ambitious man, Berald Hastlon, seeks to break this deadlock and see Scardale Town reclaimed from its’ current state. However, unable to rely on the limited resources and manpower at Chandlerscross, Berald has put out a call for strong and resolute souls - promising great boons to those who would answer his summons. Would-be heroes and mercenaries quickly flocked to Chandlerscross from the nearby regions and were guided to Berald’s estate where the nobleman prepares to address them…

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A C T O N E

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NIGHTAL 1, 1372 DR
CHANDLERSCROSS
HASTLON ESTATE

So, let us see what this Lord Hastlon has to offer.

“I hope this Lord Hastlon does not keep us all waiting much longer, it has been a long trip up here and I would like a stiff drink and a warm bed after the journey I have had.”

Iliskra’s eyes darted around, the half-elf’s gaze settling on the man that had just uttered the bumbling complaint. A heavily armored brute of a human with a broadsword hefted over his shoulder, on his head sat a helmet ornamented with spiraling horns and from his back hung a blood-red cape which was frayed at the bottom. Iliskra felt a smirk tugging at the right corner of her mouth. She could not see his face but by his way of speaking alone Iliskra had a feeling the lampoonish oaf breathed through parted lips more often than not.

“Cease your complaining.” Said another voice, higher pitched and silky. Iliskra’s eyes swiveled towards the owner - another human, a golden-haired woman in a suit of scalemail with a kite shield perched upon her left arm emblazoned with the symbol of Helm. “I imagine Lord Hastlon is a busy man and he will be with us as soon possible.” she stated.

“One would think he would handle his regular affairs so he might address his new army of fools posthaste.” came a third voice which prompted a couple of stray laughs.

From her place in the shadow of a nearby corner Iliskra turned her head to give the host of folk she stood with another looking over. Including herself there seemed to be just over twenty people gathered in the very lavish foyer of Lord Hastlon’s mansion - all newly arrived and answering his call for capable swordarms for some expedition of sorts. There were some among them that made her smile in amusement such as the helmeted clod that did not know how to even grip a sword, or the wide-eyed young man in the brown jerkin armed with a hunting bow and a dagger that shined like new. And then there were those that Iliskra could immediately tell were not to be lightly trifled with, such as the listless bearded man in robes that Iliskra immediately marked as a wizard, or the grizzled dwarf that stood at the back of the crowd - two ruddy, wicked hand axes hanging from his waist. Most of those gathered were humans, the dwarf graced by the presence of another of his kind and Iliskra had also spotted a pair of halflings standing together at the front of the assemblage. From what she could see she was the only elf-blood in the room - which was hardly a first time happening. Several of the fellow arrivals were sipping away at silvery goblets of wine, served to those who so wished when everyone was allowed inside the mansion. Iliskra had declined, choosing carefulness over expensive wine freely given out. Iliskra doubted there was any malicious intent and Lord Hastlon had simply wished to butter up his guests before presenting himself. Still, it was always better to be safe than sorry. And if Iliskra wanted fine wine she could just steal some later.

Iliskra glanced out of a nearby window. The sun was setting and snow was falling, delicate white flakes blanketing the outside of the mansion and the whole of the town of Chandlerscross. Midwinter was just weeks away and the Dales were already enveloped in snow and ice as this was looking to be a bitter winter season. Thought not inclined to complain Iliskra hoped that their host did make his entrance very soon, for if she were to stay at an inn tonight she would rather not try to find one after dark while trudging through shin deep snow.

Shu’s Character Catalogue

Iliskra the Callous

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”A rich life lived is a life lived for oneself.”

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Art by Nerva1 on DeviantArt. ___________________________________ P R O F I L E Age 22 Years Old (Born in 1350 DR.) Race Half-Elf Sex Female Height 5’10” (177.8 cm) Weight 125 lbs (56.699 kg) Alignment True Neutral Class Arcane Trickster Level Level 5 ___________________________________ I N V E N T O R Y (Notable Items) - Bag of Holding - Camping Supplies & Rations - Potions of Invisibility - Potions of Cat’s Grace - Philters of Love - Potions of Sleep - Antidote - Potions of Cleansing ____________________________________ E Q U I P M E N T - Light Mace - Dagger of Venom - Studded Leather Armor - Cloak of Displacement ____________________________________

____________________________________________________________________________ APPEARANCE Iliskra is a half-elf of Chondathan human and wood elf parentage, her features heavily favoring those of her father - a dark-haired wood elf with “deep olive” skin, Iliskra’s own flesh tone being slightly lighter due to her Chondathan mother. Iliskra is lithe and notably curvaceous in form with sharp features typical of elf-bloods. While not brutish she is athletic in build with fine cords of muscle gracing her body from years of survival and combat training. Her eyes are emerald green and her firm brow and chiseled visage give her a look of sincerity with a glaze of “impish” intent - the half-elf able to freeze or melt hearts with a single expression. ____________________________________________________________________________ BACKSTORY The bastard half-elf daughter of a promiscuous Cormyrean noblewoman and a wood-elf mercenary, Iliskra came into the world disadvantaged and quite unwanted - her birth both a direct inconvenience to her mother and a stain on the noble houses’ honor as Iliskra’s mother was already betrothed to a Cormyrean Purple Dragon Knight of great merit and esteem. A betrothal that was called off the very day Iliskra was born. While her “family” could not find it in themselves to heartlessly kill or otherwise do away with Iliskra it was a general consensus she was illegitimate and a mistake. Iliskra was placed in the care of a midwife at the estate and treated as a ward up until her sixth birthday when her mothers’ father finally snapped and had the half-elf child sent away as the very sight of her was a constant reminder of his own daughters’ foolish, lustful actions. Dignitaries and other visiting nobles would often query on and spread gossip about the presence of Iliskra which naturally worsened things. A week after turning six years old Iliskra was sent to the great city of Arabel in northern Cormyr where she would spend the next twelve years of her life. Sadly, life in Arabel was even worse for Iliskra. She was placed in a small orphanage run by a disgraced priest of Ilmater with a drinking problem. He more often than not turned away those who would come to adopt and would fly into drunken rages and beat the children to serious injury and threaten them to stay silent when anyone came calling. At age ten Iliskra ran away from the orphanage and took to the streets, surviving off of handouts from the temple of Tymora, begging on the corners, and in time stealing. On occasion she would run with groups of other street urchins to raid food stalls and storehouses, though usually Iliskra had to fend for herself as most of these groups of adolescent thieves were locals and cared little for the half-elf outsider. As the years passed by Iliskra’s streetwise savviness grew to serve her well. At sixteen years of age she would become a swift cutpurse and shoplifter while also performing various menial jobs around the city of Arabel from letter couriering to working as a scullery maid at an inn. One night at the inn where she worked Iliskra’s life would change drastically when she made the mistake of trying to cut the wrong man’s purse under a table - said man being a member of a thieves guild from another city. The thief wrested Iliskra away and out of sight much to her terror as she feared he would knife her then and there. However, the thief was quite impressed that the young half-elf nearly got away with robbing him and instead of killing Iliskra he offered to take her away from Arabel and back to his city where she might join his guild. Iliskra agreed in short order and the following morning she and the thief left Arabel for the city of Tilverton. Iliskra would be taken by her shadowy new friend to the man known as Artur “the Fat Man” Grossman - a morbidly overweight and lecherous crime lord that ran the Rogues of Tilverton, the cities’ guild of thieves and other shadowy miscreants. Despite Artur’s glaringly misogynistic attitude towards women and doubt in their ability as thieves and fighters Iliskra was allowed to join the Rogues of Tilverton - in part because of the appeal made by Frostur, the man who recruited Iliskra back in Arabel, and also because of Artur being rather entranced by the pretty, young half-elf. Artur’s daughter Lharae would take a particular interest in Iliskra and take the latter under her wing seeing potential in her. Lharae would teach Iliskra how to infiltrate, gather information, and pick up leads on marks and how to use her good looks and proper charms to her advantage. Frostur meanwhile would take the time to tutor Iliskra in both melee fighting and the use of arcane magics as a thief as well as how to better survive in the city streets and the wilderness. While she suffered no shortage of growing pains so to speak Iliskra would prove to be an attentive student and fast learner much to the approval of her two mentors and the guild as a whole. Iliskra would become one of the finest of the Rogues of Tilverton, a top “earner” that would develop a reputation as a skilled shadow and a trustworthy informant. - Or at least as trustworthy as a thief could be. Iliskra became a natural at using stealth to hit a mark, and when her sneaking talents were not enough her employ of potions, magic, and even seduction would finish the job. Iliskra would serve her guild perhaps not faithfully but “acceptably well”. She was never shy about taking extra for herself and filching items or gold that she thought she could get away with. While she did raise the suspicion of her fellows more than once she was never caught or otherwise proven to be “off the level” and thus remained with the Guild, at least for a time. In 1372 DR, Iliskra’s fourth year with the Rogues of Tilverton, the Realms would be shaken to the core by the return of the Netherese - the Archwizards and their Shadovar launching an invasion of Faerûn. By this time Lharae Grossman had taken over the guild after the disappearance of her father and the Rogues looked to her for guidance amid this uncertain crisis. The Rogues went about their business, continuing their usual affairs in Tilverton as Lharae did not believe the Netherese would focus on a small city. However, in the month of Mirtul the Shadovar would in fact descend upon Tilverton forcing the population to hastily evacuate while Cormyr and the Dalelanders rallied a desperate defense against the brutal Netherese. In the confusion of the flight from Tilverton, Iliskra would be separated from her guild - later learning that many of her fellows were apprehended on the road and imprisoned in Arabel and Suzail farther to the south. Iliskra did not know what became of Lharae or Frostur, searching for them when she could not reach the others. After Tilverton was ultimately destroyed during the struggle for the city Iliskra was forced to accept the harsh reality that the Rogues were no more. Those that had not been executed or jailed had scattered to the winds and sought new refuge and employment, and it was time for her to do the same. After one last failed search for Lharae and Frostur in the surrounding region Iliskra headed eastward into the Dalelands to start anew - however that might be done. ____________________________________________________________________________ PERSONALITY As a child Iliskra was filled with turmoil and a bitterness that grew with her. Between the disdain and abuse she suffered from her mothers’ family and the head of the orphanage she was sent to - as well as from the other children - Iliskra did not experience warmth or affection as a young girl. After finally running away from the orphanage living in the streets hardened her young heart even more and taught her to be wary and watchful of all around her. Iliskra’s self and survival were foremost, no one and nothing else mattered. This outlook stuck with her well into her late adolescence, helping shape her into the young lawbreaker that she would become - stealing from shopkeepers after delivering letters to them and picking the pockets of priests that offered her a hug after handing her a loaf of bread. When Iliskra met Frostur and was taken in by the Rogues of Tilverton she would become more disciplined - the bitterness and seething of a troubled young life chiseled away and replaced with a sharp, cold, analytical sense. While she no longer clung so tightly to the grudge that came with the struggles of her childhood she retained the lessons they taught her. She retained her outlook that herself came first, even when offering her service to the Rogues of Tilverton. She sees all things in a light of how much value is offered to her. Every relationship, every alliance, every partnership - all are weighed in their benefits and risks. Though not sadistic and deliberately cruel, Iliskra is not above acts that many would call cruel to achieve her goals and get what she wants. She always prefers that matters be kept clean and easy moving but when necessary she is willing to do less than commendable things, be it slitting throats or blackmailing a source of information with the lives of loved ones. Exteriorly Iliskra comes off at first as very pointed, no-nonsense, and harshly distant. Though in time when she develops a more positive connection or “working relationship” with someone she opens up, engaging in friendly banter and making the offhand joke. Despite this she is always mindful of those around her, of their interests and worries, their strengths and weaknesses. “Always know your own cards and the cards that others hold.” Lharae had taught her. Even when in apparent closeness with someone else Iliskra always has a knife up her sleeve, sometimes figuratively and always literally. It is this that earned her the nickname “the Callous”. ____________________________________________________________________________ MISC (OOC) Notable Adventures : NA/TBA

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