Sylvarius

Master Thief and Assassin

Description:

ASPECTS
High Concept: Master thief and assassin
Trouble: “earn” a better life for his sister
Left behind during elven exodus
multiple shady contacts in the underworld

STUNTS
- I am at home in the shadows, so I get a +2 when I sneakily attack an unaware opponent
- I am a master thief so I get a +2 to carefully overcome obstacles when presented with locks, traps, or similar mechanical preventative measures.

APPROACHES
Careful: 2
Clever: 1
Flashy: 1
Forceful: 0
Quick: 2
Sneaky: 3

Bio:

This is the way it is.

When the elves fled their homeland I was young. My sister, my parents and I, along with a few other families – hiding in abandoned shacks, fleeing from the lynch mobs as we made for a new home. I will never forget the sounds of screaming the night as a band of marauders appeared. I grabbed Callista’s hand and led her to my parents’ room in the small shack we had hid in. They weren’t there.

More screams.
The smell and flash of smoke.
The smell of death.

Callista began to cry. She was still so young; so frightened. We needed to escape quick, but a quick glance around and I saw my father’s things were gone. My mother’s as well. They were not lost in this riot. They had left beforehand. They had left us. I could understand. We were slowing them down. Too young to move at the pace needed. I couldn’t let Cally realize. It would break her. I needed her strong.

This is the way it is.

By the time we made it two rooms over to the kitchen to hide, the front door was kicked off it’s hinges. We began to run, I grabbed a chair and threw it through the kitchen window. It was small, but we were elves – nimble and agile. We could make it through.

This is the way it is.

I was half through the broken window, bleeding from the shattered glass when I heard the scream. Cally had tripped, and the burly human standing over her was eyeing his next victim, prize, or whatever he hoped to attain from her. Part of me wanted to leave her. She fell behind. I couldn’t. Something wouldn’t let me. I slid back through the window, grabbing shards of glass as I came through. Before the brute knew what had happened, I had thrown the glass into his face, cutting through his cheek fat and eyelids like razorweed. His screams gave me the time I needed and then some. I leapt first at his knee, planting my foot on his horizontal thigh, and then using his own knee as a foothold, sent my own into the glass shards lodged in his face.

An unforgettable crack.
A rush of blood.

He slumped to the ground, unrecognizable to even his mother. As if by instinct, my eyes flashed to the belt he was wearing. A full pouch of coins and a dagger. With one easy kill, we had a weapon to escape, and money to begin a new life.

This is the way it would be.

The marauders never left that small farm, throats slit and pockets pilfered in the night, and we returned to the human city to live as refugees, underestimated by a wealth of wealthy who were ripe for the picking. Their “contributions” afforded the small “used goods” shop Cally started and helped pay for the three times it burned down (twice by arson, once by her own hand when she “discovered” her powers…). She is my eyes and ears, my fence, and my dearest sister. We deserve better. She deserves better.

This is the way it is.

I have many names and many faces. I am the ghost, the killer, the thief, the artist. I am good at what I do. I am what I do.

This is the way it is.

Sylvarius

Mori: Rise of the Heroes nighthawk632 ninjafreddy