[Characters] Profiles

[corporealself]

Place your finished profiles here.

[Pilgrim]

Ardanis Wiscombe Name: Ardanis Wiscombe Race: Human (Taldan Father, Chelaxian Mother) Class: Rogue (Investigator Archetype) Alignment: TN, with NG leanings Age: 29 Gender: Male Appearance: He is of medium build and is 5′ 9″ tall and weighs 152 pounds. His hair is brown, kept long, but he ties it in a ponytail. He has dark brown eyes. He keeps clean-shaven, and this reveals an old scar on his chin. Personality: Years of living in Cheliax have left Ardanis a bit cynical and jaded. He doesn't trust easily. However, he is not cruel, either - he won't let someone take advantage of him, but he also doesn't take advantage of others. In the rare event he lets someone close, they'll find a dark, wry sense of humor and a genuine concern for others... and a frustration over the status quo in his homeland. Background Ardanis's father was a sailing merchant from Andoran who had come to the area on business. When his business was finished, he had a drunken night of passion in celebration, before returning to his wife back home. It wasn't until later that Ardanis's mother, Delania, found out she was pregnant. The woman wasn't a prostitute, but rather the daughter of a successful clockmaker - she had been equally inebriated that night. Ardanis's grandfather was furious at his daughter's indiscretion, but there was nothing to be done. He helped raise the boy as much as his daughter did, and they both loved Ardanis, but there was a strain on the father-daughter relationship from then on. As Ardanis grew up, he helped out in the shop. Dealing with customers taught him how to talk to people, and working with clockworks gave him an eye for detail and a keen ear. He was a bright young man, and learned how to piece things together - not just clocks, but all kinds of things, even information. Grandfather Toesin thought the boy would grow to be a fine clockmaker... but Ardanis had other things in mind. It started small - helping friends track down lost pets, or missing items. Soon he got a reputation - Ardanis had a knack for tracking things down - things, people, information. Sometimes they payed him. Ardanis had the first twinklings of an idea. But he couldn't act on it yet - Toesin had gotten sick, and Ardanis was needed to help run his grandfather's shop. Time passed... and finally Toesin passed on. The shop was left to Ardanis, but the young man didn't want it. He sold it, and gave most of the proceeds to his mother to live on. Then he followed his own dream. He had a reputation, but it wasn't as large as it could be, yet. The jobs were small. Crimes that the watch thought were not big enough to bother with. Missing persons. Cheating spouses. His big break came from a nobleman. It was another spouse job - the lord thought his wife was having an affair, please look into it, payment... lots! Ardanis took the case, of course. Well, probably a mistake - the wife wasn't having an affair, but she was involved in a plot to assassinate another noble. A petty act of revenge, but the target was a business partner of her husband's. Ardanis was paid. Later, he found out the woman had been killed in an accident. Oh, the games nobles played. He tried not to think about his part in the affair, but he avoided cases from the nobility after that... unless he really needed the money. Roleplay Example Ardanis stepped into the small tavern by the docks, glancing around. The common room was brightly lit, yet somehow the dour mood of the patrons cast a gloom that had nothing to do with lighting. Few looked up; in a place like this, you didn't get into someone else's business. The investigator walked to the bar, taking a seat. The stout barkeep gave him an appraising look, then decided he was okay. "A pint," said Ardanis. The barkeep filled a glass, setting it in front of Ardanis. "Thanks." He took a sip. "I heard this might be a good place to look for a man named Fengir. Heard of him?" "Never. This isn't a good place to look for anybody, pal. Or to ask." Ardanis didn't need to look behind him to know that a few eyes had turned in his direction. A flick of the bartender's eyes told him everything. "Relax. I'm not law." He pulled a silver out of his coin purse, slid it on the bar. "I just need to get some information from Fengir." "Look, buddy, I think you should leave." Another glance behind Ardanis. The investigator shifted to the side, avoiding the blow from the sap that was swung towards his head. The man standing behind him was large, with a tangled beard in which were buried the morsels from his previous meals. His small, dark eyes glittered with malice. "Look, we can fight this out, and you'll probably beat the Hell out of me, but I'd get away," said Ardanis to the tough. "Then two things would happen. One, I'd report you to the law out of spite, and we both know what happens to you then. Second, you'd miss out on the payment I'm offering you to give me some information." The tough guy paused. "I'm Fengir," and of course Ardanis knew that already from descriptions he had heard. "You have five seconds to tell me what you want." "Simply put, sir, I need to contact your main fence. I have it on good authority that he also takes merchandise from another thief, one that took a locket from a client of mine." Fengir's face darkened. "You calling me a thief?" "Let's not pretend, here. I'm not with the law, and I have no authority or intention of making any arrests. I don't even plan to report anything to them. My job is simply to recover that locket. I'll pay you ten gold for your fence's name, his description, and the method of getting in touch with him. What do you say?" The tough thought for a moment, then smiled, revealing jagged yellow teeth. "Fifteen gold."

[orangehatter]

E'loi Gil Name: E'loi Gil Age: 23 Race: Half-Elf Gender: Male Class: Rogue Alignment: TN Appearance: Standing at 5' 5" and 146lbs., E'loi's build is disarmingly athletic, but quite unimpressive. His stance has a slighted permanent hunch and he often keeps "closed" body language. While his head is very rounded; his wide and high cheekbones coupled with his often held hunched over position add to the overall false pretense of an out-of-shape condition. His skin is a seamless layer of soiled sand (Brazilian), the color is solely marred by a wide albino smear just at the right side of his neck. His hair-a smattering of black, brown, and slate-is set neatly in cornrows that end in navy-beaded braids at the back of his neck. Both of his ears are short and give hint to his elven heritage; with the left ear a piece is missing close to the tip. The right is pierced with two simple gauges of red-tinted metal near the bottom. His eyes are bright and brown. It also doesn't take much to recognize that the left eye is fixed in a half-squint, with a 1" thin scar running from the bottom of the eyelid. His nose is well-formed, a perfect triangular form professionally fixated into its proper place. His mouth is more than likely the most prominent feature of his face. A distinctly sharp canine is visible at the right side if one were to glimpse between his lips. The lips themselves are tinted dark in color. His mouth is nearly always devoid of expressions. The rare grin and smile elicit an unintentional sinister aura. E'loi's wardrobe is simple and tasteful. Besides his functional black hooded cloak, he often chooses to wear a sepia caftan (sleeveless) and dark heavy-canvas pants. The pant legs are secured at the bottom by being tucked into the top of black tabi socks. Over the top of his caftan is a black leather jacket of thick leather with a two-button strap collar; it is well-worn and sturdy enough to provide protection.. His hands are garnished with black, fingerless gloves and his feet with thick earth brown sandals, darkened and discolored from use.   Background E'loi was born to a lower-class farming family in the Halikarnassos Hills. His family's line was originally descended from field slaves that, over time, had won its freedom through bloodshed and have formed into under-established settlers. Thirty years later, when a magic-formed fire burnt their farms to ashes, the E'loi family decided to migrate to East Rikkan. They had assumed that it was a sign of spirits for them to find greener grasses of commerce. As well, "merchant" was the name they took for their occupation. It would be more appropriate to refer to them now as gypsies. This new way of life set them as nomadic traders. With their musical talents, tailoring specialties, and newfound gift of gab, they made transactions that reached across borders of culture and bias. Since the Dhalim family set their feet on the piers of the Westcrown coast, E'loi remembered the first 11 years of his life as spent spread across many of the places in Cheliax. Just days after his 12th birthday, the Dhalim took a long-needed respite from their drifting and settled inconspicuously amongst the shipyard denizen. From what E'loi can remember, his days among the refuge of the lower class were spent with reckless abandon. His household put little restriction on their young, leaving him, his siblings, and his cousins to run rampant in the streets and along the piers. Even at his young age, E'loi was often the ringmaster of their childish affairs, exhibiting a keen grasp of problem solving skills and situational awareness. The shipyards become his fantasy war grounds, and the smell of sea salt and fish innards became as subtle as his own body odor. But two years later, hard times pressed down on the Gil family. The rich cloths that the family were known for tailoring became more and more expensive. With the rapid growth of technology that outdid the speed of their craft, The Gil had to resort to using material of lesser quality in order to craft their goods in the same amount of time. This in turn ground their once-reputable name into the sand of their industrial beach. In desperation to feed the mouths of their young, the family turned to thieving the stock yards. Their family name changed from shifty gypsies to dirty cutpurses within the year. E'loi's own initiation into his family's life of crime was a slow-going process. It started off first with him keeping inventory of their fenced goods. This responsibility then became the management and handling of these same goods. By the time he reached 19, he moved from the role of lookout to supervisor of operations. He would often get involved personally as they crept through the docks to relieve the anchored ships of their wares. Henrique, E'loi's uncle, was currently the overseeing manager of their new crime syndicate. He offered his young nephew a position as his right hand man. The same night E'loi accepted the job invitation, the Gil family was visited by unexpected authorities. Unknown to them, a local religious cult had spent the last few months preparing an "ethnic cleansing" to rid their harbors of the thieving, spiritualist, port-bound family. In a night of terror, the elitist group stormed the docks and hacked down the Gil family with the cold steel of religious law. E'loi hardly escaped himself, unable to even assist the rest of his assaulted family. By morning, the shipyard smelled of blood and burnt flesh as over three quarters of the Gil family were littered about the ground. Even as their corpses were burned or placed into the corpse barrels that were tossed into the sea, the remaining members of the once-thriving Gil thieves began packing their things and buying ship tickets. They were intent on leaving their home bathed in the blood of their brothers and sisters. Some, including E'loi, decided to stay and start their life over from scratch. E'loi knew revenge was out of the picture, yet a desire burned at the back of his mind. The ordeal left him soul-scarred and he left his family and the memories they kept with them. Using his criminal and espionage skills, he spent the last few years working as a odd-job spy and second-story thief in order to make a living. He works not to survive, but to escape the memory of a night of pain. As well, he has by now recognized that he is able to use his intelligence to enhance his status in life far above the shipyard ruffian of his kin. His hope is that he can carry on as his family's generational heir to a life above the lower-class living he's known. Currently, he has been on hiatus and searching for new contacts, contracts, and expeditions that would raise him above petty crime. Personality: E'loi was born with an exceptional intelligence. Due to this increase in mental capacity, his naturally-attributed ADD (courtesy of his family's traits) has been replaced with an impeccably focused mind. The few that have been able to engage in his company would say this alone has made him distinctly different then the others of his extended family. His mental prowess have left him twitchy and nominally paranoid as his mind often races ahead of his ability to grasp his own thoughts. Despite this, he is still plagued with the greed, haughtiness, and slippery tongue inherent in his Gil blood. Socially, E'loi is very hard to find. The few times he chooses to speak, his lies mix just as well with the truth and he has no shame in manipulating others for his own gain. To the few that earn his trust, he finds talking almost unnecessary, remaining straightforward and replacing small talk with gestures. He is coolly aware of those around him, but rarely pays heed to the presence of others unless they directly affect him; he regards most as a nuisance. He is very defiant of civil authorities and keeps a low-profile to prevent run-ins with law enforcers. E'loi enjoys travel and often takes up himself self-imposed challenges of getting into places he doesn't belong. And as long as he sees an exit from his current predicament, he maintains his calmness. His heart of wanderlust does however possess the faint essence of claustrophobia; he will gradually panic if he feels trapped. This applies more to actual location rather than escalated situations. In the realm of combat, E'loi is evasive. He avoids fighting at much has he can help it, usually "picking up the pieces" as he is apt to call it. His seedy way of life has taught him some fights are best left alone. If he feels as though he can enter combat unscathed, he will lurk amidst the chaos to employ hit and run tactics. He would much rather leave such danger to more capable fighters and considers himself too much of a romantic to dirty his clothes or his hands. RP Sample: "If you're not LYING to me, then why are you so afraid to share this information with me?" E'loi laughed teasingly. "Whoever said I was afraid?" He mockingly bounced the small pouch up and down in his long-fingered hand with a wry, devious grin. "As I already said, this delivery is for Mr. Renault, and I can't say what it is." As the small satchel fell back into his hands, E'loi grabbed hold of it. His demeanor changed; his lips tightened and his brown eyes peered into the guard's with a steely reserve. "I'm not commissioned to share such pertinent details with a..." He took the time to look the capable Tiefling over. "...working-class individual such as yourself." The guard bristled and opened his mouth to speak before he was cut off from a voice that came from behind him. "That will be enough, Ijim." The older, weathered man was standing at the top of the grand wooden steps. There was no saying how long he'd been there. "You've both done your jobs well, I see. Come up with me, Mr. Gil." The guard glanced to his boss, then to E'loi, then again to Renault. Resignedly, he stepped aside to allow the Half-elf through. E'loi walked the steps without a backwards glance as he followed Renault up into the reputable chambers of the small mansion.

[Huhart]

Name: Anikara
Age: 143
Race: Elf (Forlorn)
Gender: Female
Class: Witch
Alignment: CN

Appearance: She is tall, 5'-9", but extremely thin, 110 lbs. Her hair is silver and hangs loosely around her shoulders. She appears somewhat gaunt, with a haggard look of one who has a pesh addiction. She wears a low cut top, short skirt and leather boots. She keeps company with a gray rat who has part of his left ear missing, He says it was from a run-in with an owlbear, but she suspects it was from a cat.

Background: Anikara grew up on the streets of Westcrown. She managed to keep herself out of being sold as a slave or prostitute. Instead, she became a small time dealer in black market substances, like posh and flay leaf. She eventually became addicted to pesh. It was not long before she was arrested and thrown in jail.

It was in the prison that she met a magical rat named Ned. Ned came running into her cell to get away from whatever had tried to chew his ear off. Anikara thought she was in the middle of a drug induced hallucination when the rat spoke to her. She helped the poor rat with his ear and in turn, the rat promised to teach her magic. Ned also helped Anikara recover from her addiction.

She and the rat were eventually released from prison. With her new found magic powers, she was able to find more legitimate means of employment. She still dabbles in the black market from time to time, but now avoids the hard core stuff.

Personality: Anikara finds just about anything to be funny. She thinks a pile of horse dung in the middle of the street is hilarious. She laughs at the way the blood spurts when someone gets their throat cut. She has an annoying laugh which ends with a high pitched hiccup. Most people think she is strange and try to ignore her. Being ignored is one thing she does not think is funny. When people ignore her, she does mean things to them. Then she laughs about it.

Roleplay Example:

It had been a long day and she hadn’t eaten. She resigned to enter the local tavern for a quick dinner. A few of the locals looked at her in disgust as she walked into the room. Others turned away in fear, refusing to make eye contact. Anikara ignored them all and headed for a seat at the bar. ”Oh, how I would love to hex every one of these self-righteous twits.”

Old Bill, the bartender scowled as he took her order, knowing her presence was bad for business. Billy had been a customer of hers years ago and treated her with a small amount of respect. ”You’d better not cause any trouble tonight,” He told her, pointing out a group of guardsmen getting drunk at the far table.

”Trouble? Me?” She giggled and proceeded to eat her meal quickly. The dottari made her itch.

She was nearly through her dinner when he approached her. "Excuse me miss, is this seat taken? Maybe I could buy you a drink." the drunken guardsman slurred his speak badly.

"Was this fool actually hitting on me?", She thought as she looked over the human. She noticed the others from his table were laughing and egging him on. She licked her spoon in a suggestive manner and gave him a seductive look. "Why don't we get out of here and find a quiet place where we could....talk.

"Err...Ummm...OK", the man spurted, not expecting things to go this easily. Anikara grabbed his arm and led him out the door. She took his to a nearby stable and found an empty stall. The guard immediately tried to grab at her, but she pushed him away. "Not so fast, why don't you show me what you got first." She said, eyeing his crotch.

"What? Oh...Sure!" he smiled and began to undress. He did a silly kind of dance as she watched him strip.

"What an idiot," Anikara thought. His pants were down to his ankles when she hit him with the slumber hex. He dropped heavily into a pile of hay and snored peacefully.

"Pleasant dreams, fool!" She said and turned to leave, when something golden caught here eye. She took his coin pouch and opened it to find a number of gold coins inside. Smiling, she blew the man a kiss and walked away.

[GLM]

Name: Eben Winsome
Age: 18
Race: Human
Gender: Male
Class: Sorcerer
Alignment: CG

Appearance: Eben is a handsome young human, with a mop of curly blond hair on his head and piercing blue eyes. He's about average in both height and weight. He wears the simple, utilitarian clothing of someone who does the dirty work at the local tavern. He carries few belongings, and the few he has have generally come from items left behind by guests, so there's no pattern or style that matches across the gear and items he does own.

Background: Eben is a Saltmarsh native. His parents, Jonas and Althea, run one of the local taverns. The family (He's the oldest of the 3 boys) lives upstairs from the tavern, and they rent out rooms as well. Despite the tense political nature of the city and region, his parents have remained aplotical and have tried to instill this in their son. "Talking politics or religion just gets people riled up. Last thing we need is another fight in this place. Too much stuff gets broken." his father would say, ending any talk of local current events in the family. The family connection to the church of Gozreh is not soemthing that Jonas wants discussed openly, either.

Eben has been helping out in the tavern since he was a young boy, cleaning, washing dishes, cooking food, and whatever else needed to be done. As he grew older and began to resent his chores, he found that by some stroke of luck, he could actually get some of them done, well...by themselves. He kept this secret to himself, preferring to do his chores late in the evening or early in the morning as much as possible. He's worked on increasing his spell repertoire over the years mostly by trying to find new and interesting ways to avoid work. He's still very new to magic, but he's made it work for him so far.

He's reached an age where his much younger brothers can take over some of his work, and while his parents need himi, he's been pulling at the reigns a bit, trying to gain some more freedom. He's not sure that he wants to run a tavern himself, so any chance to do something different, Eben will jump at it, hoping to find a true calling of some sort, or something that allows him to use his simple magic skills.

Personality: Having grown up in a family that caters to the public, Eben has learned how to read people, and how to speak to them. He can talk people out of fighting, or into buying another rounds of drinks with ease. He's also watched enough poorly behaved drunks to know just what NOT to do around people. Because of this, most people find him to be quite charming. He finds it easy to approach people, and people seem to find him approachable too. He's quick witted can think on his feet. Lately he's been showing off his keen sense of humor in an effort to charm the (very) few women that come in to the tavern. Being in a tavern all day, he hears things. Lots of things, and he's begun to wonder what exactly is going on in town. He's begun to eavesdrop on conversations, hoping it will shed some light on the danger that seems to lurk everywhere.

He's not all that fond of physical work, despite (because of?) a lifetime of it already. Magic has allowed him to dodge a certain amount of it so far, and he's motivated to find ways to avoid labor.

While he's seen people from all over in the tavern and in the rented rooms, Eben is not particularly worldly, having never left his neighborhood in Saltmarsh. He's heard stories, though, and is anxious for the chance to see new places. So while he's learned a lot about the nature of people from working in a tavern, and shows a certain streetsmarts for dealing with drunks and con men, there's still a fresh innocence to him, as he has much to learn about the world outside of his home and workplace.

Roleplay Example:
Eben had been standing still for too long, and he knew it. He was over in the corner, listening intently to Mr. Aldrin, his cleaning rag bunched up in a fist.
"Hey Kid!" came the yell he had been expecting.
"You'll have to excuse for a moment, Mr. Aldrin. I'm sure you understand..." he turned and walked towards the bar where his father was waiting.
"Eb. Go downstairs and get a keg of stout, would ya? And what are ya doin' just standin' around? We got customers! Move it!"
"Well, now or never right?" Eben sighed. "Yeah, about that Dad. That's Councilman Aldrin. He's uh... he's asking me for a favor. I need tomorrow night off." He watched his dad's face closely, wondering how he'd respond.
As expected, it didn't go well. the old man's nostrils flared, and the furrow in his brow deepened into a thick crease."What? What are you doing getting mixed up with someone like that? What have I told you? Have you listened at all?"
"No, Dad, it's not what you think. He needs help. It's for the good of the town. The town needs all the help it can get, right? And that's what's good for business, right? So...I figured... I figured I'd try to help. It'll just be for one night, and maybe I can lead a few people back here when it's over." He smiled "Come on. I don't ask for much..."
The uneasy silence ended with a groaning sigh from the old man. "Mrhmmmm. I suppose Albie and Jonas can wipe down tables for a night. Listen, one night." He held up an index finger to make the point. "And don't think of making a career out of hanging out with councilmen, got it? Last thing I need around here. Now that keg ain't gonna bring itself upstairs, kid. Let's go."
He nodded, and made his way over to the rickety ladder into the cellar, but not before giving a wink and a nod at the councilman. The plan was on.

[Elucidus]

Name: Ivarus Blackboot
Race: Half-Orc
Class: Magus
Alignment: Neutral-Good
Age: 16
Gender: Male
Appearance: Brown hair, brown eyes, short...for a half-orc. Ivarus prefers to maintain his look of the typical half-orc. He is often underestimated and he prefers it that way. The Intelligence behind his eyes is unmistakable, howeve. Anyone who is even a little astute will notice it, but so many take his as a dumb half-orc and he doesn't want to disappoint. He does hold himself with great pride, not many could mix the strength of his orcish heritage with teh intelligence of his mother so well.
Personality: Ivarus is actually a fun-loving guy. Not the rageful brute most expect out of a half-orc. He does love to play up the stereo-type sometimes.

He loves his drink, but never over-indulges knowing his limits. A good joke gets him laughing. His motivation is to simply live a free life as a free man, and have everyone experience that gift.
Background: He worked for, and some called it slavery, a human man, who treated him with respect. He was the man's body guard. He was 'hired' when he was younger. The man expected Ivarus to be a brutish thug, but that is what he wanted, someone to scare away the rabel. He instead got a quick thinking tactician who had an understanding of small battlefields the likes Trudicitus never magined. Ivarus saved his life on many occasions, most of the time it was through pre-planning, emergency preparation, or quick action, rather than self-sacrifice.

Over time Ivarus worked his way up the ranks, proving himself time and again both in combat and in planning activities, he was never afraid to speak up and while he wasn't always right, he always took credit for his ideas, both good and bad. It was when Ivarus was a Lieutenant in the man's guard that he proved his intelligence. In an argument with the Captain of the guard Ivarus' forewarning is the first time he saved Trudicitus' life. This was the first time that Trudicitus really took notice of Ivarus.

After about a year as the Captain, Trudicitus, a mage in his own right, decided to see what Ivarus was made of. Afterall his loyalty was never in question and if Ivarus could pick up a few useful spells, he would be that much better of a guard captain. Trudicitus did this as more of an experiement than actually believing he would pick it up. Ivarus was quick to learn the ways of the mage, but he had an odd way of doing it. He always practiced casting while fighting, convinced that he could do both effectively.

While Ivarus trained in armor, he was eventually able to cast his spells while lightly armored, but the trick that caught Trudicitus' attention the most was his ability to channel his spells through his weapon. This was quite a feat for any mage.

Trudicitus' death is what brought Ivarus to realize it was a time for chain in this God Foresaken township. Trudicitus sent Ivarus on an errand he didn't expect to take very long. He was to retrieve an 'artifact' (I use the word to mean something of import to the character not some all powerful magic item.) He send Ivarus because it made the most sense to send his most loyal servant to retrieve his most valued treasure from the port. Apparently, his most valued treasure was a woman. A woman with a lot of demands. While the transport was supposed to take not much more than an hour, it ended up taking several hours as the woman, Larhanda, had to visit every shop between the port and the mansion.

Trudicitus was a wealthy man, but not of any special station or very powerful as a wizard, so why he was a target Ivarus never figured out. It was this day, however that Trudicitus met his end. His life lost, Larhanda, was in despair. She went home to her family and took all of Trudicitus' wealth with her. Suddenly, Ivarus found himself without a job, well officially, he took it upon himself to investigate his boss' death. What he found appalled him. In general he discovered a level of cheliax he never imagined. Corruption throughout, demons and deformations, souls traded for power. It was then that he knew what he must do. Bring it all down, but he knew he couldn't do it by himself. He had to find allies.
Roleplay Example: The Proof Against the Guard
When Ivarus was a Lieutenant he got into an argument with Captain Jameson, Trudicitus' guard captain. They were discussing the proper way to protect Trudicitus when he was to appear at a convention to discuss his ideals.

"We will be on the first floor; there are no other two story buildings around, if all eight of us are around him he will be safe." Captain Jameson says in his usual dismissive attitude, not really paying attention to the others.

"What about the two balconies?" Ivarus offers. "A skilled assassin could target him from above." He continues, removing his helmet briefly to wipe some sweat from his brow.

"We are taller than him," Captain Jameson argues. "He will be covered."

Ivarus not one to give up easily suggests, "Why don't we put forth a decoy and walk him around the back?"

"That is unnecesary!" Jameson retorts, the Human always hated Ivarus' insights, he thought them a threat to his superiority. He was always plenty capable of protecting him physically.

Ivarus was angered by the close-minded man, always blowing off his ideas. But he would show him. He went to the entrace, "Sir," He saluted, "We will try something new this time. The threats on your life have been more numerous and we would rather not risk your life unnecesarily."
"Of course, LT, what is the plan?" Trudicitus responded.

Ivarus relayed the plan to his master, and when the guards walked up to collect him in their usual fashion, Trudicitus got in the middle and seven of the guards followed him through the passageway, Ivarus included. They walked along, and none of the guards noticed the hidden stalker on the second balcony, even though Ivarus appeared to be looking right at him.

"TRECDOBIN!" Was heard only a second before a small red bead shot from the balcony, striking Trudicitus exactly. The bead exploded in a ball of feiry death, leaving most of the guards laying unconscious or worse. Ivarus was one of the few that survived, but Trudicitus was no where to be found, no body, nothing.

Captain Jameson jumps to his feet, blotting out any flames on his body, "What happened to Master Trudicitus? Where is he?" Jameson was tlaking loudly looking around to see if he had made it.

Ivarus waited a moment until he got a signal from anotehr guard, and said to Captain Jameson, "He is fine, it was a ruse."

He left it at that, and when the truth rolled around, Ivarus was teh new Captain.

[shaderhedemon]

Belladonna Atropa Name: Belladonna Atropa Age: 18 Race: Human Gender: Female Class: Fighter(two-weapon warrior) Alignment: CN Appearance: Bell stands five feet and weighs in at one hundred and twenty pounds. She has wavy, fiery red hair that goes down to her upper back. She has golden skin, and emerald green eyes. Bell wears simply explorer clothes and a chain shirt. At the sides of her waist are a pair of scimitars, and hooked at her chest is an handaxe.   Appearance when traveling. Ayoung looking human female, about five feet in height and is slim and and somewhat lengthy, stands in front of you. She is wearing a brown tunic stretching halfway to her knees and the sleeves lead into a pair of brown, light, leather gloves. Over top her tunic rests a tightly fitted shirt of chain, the sleeves extend halfway to her elbows and the shirt extends pass her waste to about 3 inches above were her tunic stops. Underneath her tunic and shirt of chain she wears gray cloth leggings over which she wears brown leather chaps, below which sits heavy leather boots. Over the pants, but under the shirt of chain, she wears a black cotton skirt. Over all of this she has a weapons belt at her waist, with two scimitars on ether side attaches. Attached to the belt is another that goes up from her front right over her left shoulder and back down to the middle of her back. Attached to this second belt over her small chest is an handaxe. On her back rests a mostly empty brown leather backpack. Over her backpack and clothes rest a hooded, heavy leather, cloak with a number of small pouches on the inside. Her hair flows in waves down her head to her about the mid of her back, and is held out of her face by a violet scarf tied at the back of her neck so that the tie can't easily be seen. Her skin is a tanned golden color, and her eyes stand out bright emerald green. Appearance when preforming She wears light blue, soft slippers. She also wears red middle eastern style pants, with a short, styled, thin, purple tunic that came together in the front waving and folding on itself. The tunic parted just enough the when in certain potions her belly button would show and came down in front of her groin region in the front and back, but showed the sides of her waist on the sides. The sleeves came halfway to her elbows before splitting in the front and continuing halfway in between her elbows and hands. Her hair is tied back in a fluffy ponytail with a multicolored scarf with the ends flowing back with her hair. Personality: Bell tries to enjoy life. It has been hard to do so sense her parents died but she has somehow pressed on. She is a skilled dancer and fighter, and these are how she has earned most of her money. She is outgoing and playful, but she is not willing to do anything. She is out for adventure and to simply get by, however she doesn't want too much of an adventure. Background: Bell was born in an inn. Her father was a guard for a merchant caravan, as was his mother. For a few months after that they stayed in the small town but soon the were on the road again. This is how the first 15 years of Bell's life went, traveling with her parents, and training with them. They guarded caravans all across Golarion. That changed when the caravan was attacked. The caravan managed to beat off the attackers but her father had died with a few arrows through the chest, and her mother left on her deathbed a deep wound in her side. Soon she too died and Bell was left alone in the world. She followed the caravan to the end of it's journey then left it with her parents effects. For the next three years of her life Bell traveled a bit, and stayed in a few towns for work, when she finally ended up in Saltmarsh looking for work as her coin supply was running low.   RP example Bell walks into a small town late in the even and sigh, 'At last, people, beds, drinks. Traveling is nice but traveling with others is better,... maybe I should join up with another cavaran next time.' She had been traveling for two weeks since she was last in a settlement. She heads to the tavern, which she assumes was the biggest building in the town, and walks in. Once inside she gives her eyes a moment to adjust, and it is indeed the tavern, then moves her hand up and in one movement takes her hood down and pulls her hair out. She then walking up to the bar and says, "A meal and something to drink," before moving to sit at one of the tables. She looks around the tavern and notes that it's mostly empty, only an old musician by the stage in the corner, and a few men drinking and talking by him. She waits a few more moments before the barkeep brings her a meal of stew with bread and a tankard of ale, "That will be a silver," he says watching her. She smiles to him then reaches into her pouch and pulls out a silver handing it to him, then asks, "And how much for a room?" He looks to her and smiles, "2 silver" She hands him two more silver, "Here you go." He leaves again and comes back with a key. "You'll have the second room on the right," he says then moves back to behind the counter. Bell eats slowly thinking about how light he pouch is right now, and listening the the musician play. After she finishes her meal she moves over closer to the musician. "That's a nice song," she says now leaning against a table by the stage. "That is is young miss, it's always glad to hear feedback from an youngster," he says smiling to her, and putting his lute down. She smiles back and asks, "Will you be here long?" "Only till some travel comes by to escort me to the next city," he says looking to her wondering if she was one such travel. She looks him over then stands, "I need to stay a few days to make some money, if you would play when I dance I'd gladly travel with you to the next town, but as to tonight I am tired and it is late." He nods to her, or to himself, "That is is, well I will see you tomorrow then?" "Yep, certainly," she says before heading to the stairs and to her room. The room when she got inside had a small bed with a chest at the end of it, a table with a jug of water and a bowl, a small window and the door had a bar and lock. She quickly bars the door then takes off her cloak hanging it over the chest and drops her backpack down next to it. She then unbuckles her belts and sets them and the weapons they carry onto the chest and strips off the rest of her clothes to her undergarments. She then pulls out a comb from her pack and sits on the bed and begins the comb her hair, pulling at a tangle here and there, after removing the black scarf and laying it with the rest of her clothes. After combing she begins to braid her hair and while she does so she wonders what new songs the musician will play tomorrow. After she finishes with that she pours some water into the bowl and washes her face, before crawling under the sheet and going to sleep in her first real bed in two weeks. The next day she washes her face again and undoes her braid before putting on new undergarments and her clothes without her armor. She pulls on her boots and picks up her scimitars and heads downstairs after locking her door. she nods to the barkeeps wife as she cleans up then heads outside to behind the stables. Once there she draws her scimitars and begins to practice not only her dance, but her fighting style as well. After practice she heads into the inn and gets a small breakfast before finding the musician at one of the tables. They begin talking about what he was going to play and what how she was going to dance. After a while of talking she heads back to her room and begins to get ready. She dons her entertainers outfit and puts on the little makeup she needs. She then combs her hair again and then goes down stairs. Together the musician and her preform for about five hours with breaks here and there. It earns them a meal and another night, as well as a few coins. They continue with this routine for another few days then head out of town together off to the next city, their pouches a little fuller.