Characters Yaël Tali Shafir, Mossad agent, Liaison Officer - RPG Crossing
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Old 03-03-2015, 02:41 AM
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Yaël Tali Shafir, Mossad agent, Liaison Officer

Name: Yaël Tali Shafir יָעֵל טַלִי שאַפיר
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Age: 31

Description: Yaël cannot remember a time when she was not in peak physical condition. As a child growing up, she was less concerned with make-up and gossip (as her parents might have preferred) and instead focused on athletics. Originally, she had planned to become a gymnast, but after joining the IDF, she found a new direction in life. As it turned out, she was born for this job.

The only time she wears eyeliner or lipstick is when she is tasked with social infiltration. That is also the only occasion she takes out the blue dress. Otherwise, her wardrobe contains mostly one colour: commando black. She keeps her wavy hair tied in a pony tail – with the occasional rebellious strand getting away. The brown eyes, black hair and tanned skin of her Sephardi heritage mean she can blend in many a culture. As such, she is fluent in several languages, for which she also mastered specific accents: Neapolitan Italian, Andalusian Spanish, Marseille French, Münchner German, and either New York or West London English.

Personality: As a young Yaël discovered more and more of the world, her old optimism began to fade, she became if not cynical then certainly wary. Her parents’ divorce affected her more than she would care to admit. If she cared for excuses, she would blame that or her job for her lack of a stable relationship.

Or maybe the kids in school gave her the evil eye and that cursed her adult life. Though not exactly superstitious, she does know that some things she cannot explain. Some of her colleagues have expressed wonder that such a highly educated woman would, for instance, wear a nazar amulet around her neck to protect herself from curses. Yaël understands very well that it’s all psychological, so that does not prevent her from using whatever tools she has to fight back. And if she checks the horoscope every now and then, so what? It’s fun to read sometimes.

Background: Her nickname (and sometimes handle) in the Mossad and internationally is Kingfisher or Shaldag. This comes from her military background. When Special Forces saw potential in young Yaël, she was shortlisted for training to join Unit 5101, Sayeret Shaldag. Having proved herself, she had a successful career ahead of her with the special recon unit. Eventually, though, she decided that she was best suited for more subtle (and more dangerous) work. That was when she joined Mossad.

Her career as a spy had been mostly… boring. A lot of travel, taking notes and endless paperwork. Until the Krakow incident. When she fully recovered from her injuries and was declared once more fit for duty she was offered a transfer as a consultant with something called “Department X”.

The Golem of Krakow“Really, you’ve never been?”
Marek, a man too nice for this line of work, was her contact in Krakow. They’d been given a tip on a potential terrorist cell operating out of what used to be the Jewish Ghetto, working on a project codenamed “Golem”.
“No, and I don’t want to.”
“But it’s… it’s a big thing. Why would you not want to go? I mean, especially because… you know, what it means for… for…”
“It’s ok, Marek, you can say it, for Jews. I get it, I know how important it is for history, I just don’t want to see Auschwitz, ok?”
“But… why?”
“It’s an evil place, Marek. Full of nothing but suffering. If I ever feel I don’t have enough of that in my life, I’ll give it a visit.”
“All right, Fischer. Whatever.”
That was her primary alias: Fischer, Samantha Fischer. That’s right.

After an hour or so of banter while they waited for confirmation, they got the green light to investigate the house. They went over the whole place, found the usual papers of a tenant renting a flat, some cheap artwork and lots of cigarette butts. Just as she had suspected, there was nothing to report. Probably just another false lead.
“Hey, Fischer, look at this.”
The only thing in the loft that looked even a little bit out of the ordinary was a life-sized clay statue. On its forehead it had an inscription of the word אמת.
“What does it mean?”
“Emet. Truth. I guess this is some kind of joke. By inscribing that word onto a clay statue, the Rabi of the myth gave life to the golem.”
“So… we raided the house of some abstract sculptor?”
“Looks like it.”

They were about to call it a day when “Samantha” noticed something that looked like blood. Marek had already left to report to the Agencja, so she went to investigate on her own. Eventually, she found the trail lead into the wall, meaning there was a hidden room somewhere. Pushing the false wall, she discovered a stairway leading down. What she found down there would haunt her nightmares forever.

“Golem” was not a terrorist ring as they had suspected, but something entirely different. The basement that the stairs lead to looked like a butcher’s shop. Meat hung from hooks, laid on tables, blood trickling from some, streaming on the floor. The air was thick with ammonia. It took her a full minute to realise that it was not meat but human body parts. Despite every inch of her screaming to leave, she continued to investigate the room and saw one body on a table that looked like it had been sewed together using different parts. At that sight, Yaël fell to her knees and threw up.

When she tried to get up, she felt inhumanly cold hands wrapped around her neck and the world around her was going black. No matter how hard she struggled, whoever had grabbed her was too strong. The last thing she remembered before passing out was a tall man standing over her. Maybe it was the lack of oxygen, but she could not make out any features on him at all. Like he was a statue.

A week later, as she was recuperating in the hospital, Marek came to visit her and told her that when Polish agents swept the place after he had retrieved her, they found no sign of the clay statue they had seen.
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