Shadow Lore [OOC]

Jeroth

Mach Ambassador
Moderator
In the land of Riordan, magic has touched the people. For centuries, armies rose and fell through the power it brought them. Technology flourished, bringing new and devastating forms of destruction into existence. Now, after millenia of battle, an age of warfare is ending through the stroke of a single pen. Peace will come to Riordan whether it wants it or not.

. . .

The City of Poria is the heart of the newly formed World Empire. The day after the Riordan Empire signed a treaty with the Mistlord Republic - tragedy struck. Six brazened traitors to the empire attempted an assassination attempt on Emperor Riordan, succeeding in murdering his wife and children. Seemingly disappearing into the bottom of a bar, the World Empire has been searching for the traitors with fervor. A blind eye was turned to crime as the guards were forced to focus on "Retrieving the traitors" instead of "helping the citizens." It was a huge headline that's still being talked about, but there will be better ones. After all - you'll be making them.


. . .

Anyway, I have to go to work, but I wanted to get this up. I was talking with @Tirin and @Easy about how we would have loved to have a crime syndicate game. This game will be an AU of Golden Lore and I'll expand more on it once the story does, but instead of being Big Damn Heroes, you're going to be running the city - the bars, the harbors, whatever you want.

You're welcome to export your Golden Lore characters to this, but be aware: This is a crime syndicate-based game. Please don't have a character that has no interest in being a crime lord or doing any crime in the game.

More will come in time, but I wanted to throw this up for those that wanted something different.

This will be more of a resource management-esque game once I work everything out.
 

Tirin

God-Emperor of Tealkind
Moderator
i'll just leave this here

Name: Kanin Vikona
Gender: Male
Age: 63
Race: Elf

Appearance: A lean and handsome man standing no more than an inch over most (human) citizens of Poria, Kanin is fortunate enough to get the absolute best out of his heritage when it comes to his appearance. Each and every one of his motions contains the fluidity and grace of his elven lineage, further accentuated by his fair skin, lean build, and fine facial features, as well as a complete inability to grow a beard and cold, intimidating amber eyes. However, Kanin possesses an inordinate amount of power and muscle in his build for an elf, as well as dark brown hair, with bangs ending shortly above his eyebrows, that cast lingering doubts on the purity of his blood. Despite his age, he looks no older than his mid-twenties by human standards, putting a long lifespan clearly among the advantages his race affords him.

The most striking and recognizable aspects of Kanin's appearance, however, are those that he actively chooses, particularly his state of dress and the weaponry he carries with him. Outside of his home, or whatever other accomodations his job might require him to stay in, the discerning killer for hire constantly wears a black two-piece suit, the jacket single-breasted, with a white dress shirt underneath and laced dress shoes, crafted to be as comfortable and suitable for fighting as is possible (however, he refuses to wear a tie of any kind). At all times, Kanin not only carries a loaded 9mm machine pistol and extra ammunition hidden within his suit jacket, but has a five-inch switchblade engraved with elven text concealed within his trousers. When called upon to complete a task that warrants it, he may wield firearms with greater power; of course, such weaponry is not practical to keep on him. He also keeps a cell phone and a small, generic lighter within the inner pockets of his jacket.

Personality: With a demeanor as bitter and sardonic as one might expect from someone doing his job, Kanin is rarely anything close to a pleasant person. Not only is he rude and domineering, often demanding others to do things for him - demands which are not often denied, given his reputation as a killer - but he is more than content with intimidating or threatening others into doing what he wants. This dominant, threatening personality makes Kanin a very strong-willed individual, who will resist - usually quite violently - any attempts to cow, threaten, or intimidate him. Unsurprisingly these aspects of his personality earn him few friends, many enemies, and more terrified obedience than the average man in his already-fear-inspiring position would receive.

That unpleasantness aside, however, when left alone - or even mostly undisturbed - Kanin doesn't come across as anything more than an average, if apathetic, person, taking little interest in the affairs of other people unless they have something to offer him (or get in his way). What few friends he makes are usually people he is forced to put up with by his employers or those intelligent or lucky enough to keep on his good side during repeat visits to the Brigand's Barroom, a dive bar located in southeast Poria. Those that get in good with Kanin note that, when it comes to his friends, he is fairly generous and loyal, and willing to protect them or their interests without payment if it's not far out of the way. They also note a surprising (though, given his longevity, perhaps not) level of intelligence, claiming that when it comes to Poria's criminal underworld, Kanin is one of the best people to go to for assistance or advice; after years of such work, he is quite aware of the many intricate relationships between criminals, seems to have connections with every major syndicate, and is more than savvy enough to change sides if there's enough profit in doing so. In short, he's one of the most valuable friends or allies one could have in Poria's slums, but any such friendship or alliance is by nature built upon terra infirma.

History: Born in the slums of the East End, the bastard son of a long-dead, good-for-nothing drug addict he never knew and a frail, beleaguered elven mother, the early years of Kanin's life were anything but easy. He was derided as a weakling, coward, and crybaby by his human peers, an ugly, stupid brute by his elven ones, received only a basic formal education, and fought often. These fights, almost always provoked by the aforementioned insults (or truly awful comments about Kanin's mother) often ended with broken bones for other boys, until the beatings escalated into fighting young gang members and small-time criminals with knives at the age of eighteen; at twenty-one, he graduated to firearms, and conflicts that had once sent his detractors to the hospital began to, with increasing regularity, put them underground. It wasn't until he was twenty-six that he met, and made a surprisingly positive impression on, a human sorcerer named Fayrin Drakkan; soon after meeting the man, he was offered an apprenticeship as a young spellcaster, with Fayrin quite confident that Kanin would prove himself a more than capable sorcerer.

Working for three years under the mage made Kanin more knowledgeable than most on a few subjects; he was trained quite well in the use of the telepathic magic he was born with (and was only now becoming aware of), learned how to craft spells of his own - though he very rarely had the patience to do so - and was enlightened to various sources of power he could tap into. Willpower and magical energy in the surroundings were some such sources - but so too were darker sources such as the life energy of one's self or others. All of these Kanin took to well, both in theory and practice, but he failed when it came to the slow, methodical processes and ingredients of more traditional ritualistic magic. After repeated failures and refusal to learn from his mistakes on Kanin's part, Fayrin regretfully ended the apprenticeship, immensely disappointed that such natural talent would go to waste. Returning home to burden his mother, and both without any job and severely lacking in any skills that were both useful and legal, Kanin immersed himself in the one option that was always available in East Poria - a life of crime.

Lacking the necessary skills or knowledge to work as a burglar, racketeer, or information broker, Kanin started out as a debt collector for the Graggor syndicate. While he wasn't especially physically intimidating, his magical abilities came in handy when it came time to fight or to draw information from debtors, and he still had a number of serviceable knives from his violent youth. For the most part this debt collection service was standard; a few shakedowns here and there, but rarely any serious violence - until about a year in, when the Graggor family started to clash with the all-goblin Duende association. The next time Kanin went to collect from a goblin "client", said client wasn't alone - there were two Duende hitmen with him, set on ending the elf's life then and there. Surprisingly to all parties, Kanin left with not only his life, but no apparent injuries, the money of the now-dead hitmen and target, and a feeling of raw fulfillment. Those higher up in the Graggor syndicate took note of this - including old Ezra Graggor himself - and put Kanin on the fast track to the top, giving him the duty to collect from increasingly violent people before finally offering him a position as a hitman. Within eight years of joining the syndicate, Kanin had gotten respect, power - both "political" and otherwise - job satisfaction, and wealth, to a degree he had never before imagined; his mother, who had long toiled at a job she hated to support him, was sent to live in a pretty coastal village, blissfully unaware of her son's wrongdoing. Around this time, he began to make himself recognizable, wearing his suit constantly in public and making sure to always present the image of a cold, capable killer.

Ironically, Kanin's troubles began then, as he began to kill less discriminately, certain that the amiable Ezra wouldn't turn on him and doubting that any other groups would dare to draw his ire. Jobs he was employed on became more violent, with collateral damage a commonality; at first an extra body or two, but slowly building up to entire households murdered, the buildings burned to the ground, and the corpses rendered unidentifiable without magic. Between the time he turned thirty and forty, Kanin had significantly increased the murder rate in Poria solely through his own work, and while it was common knowledge within the underworld that he was responsible, law enforcement never seemed able to pin it on him. Witnesses were killed, and evidence to link him to the scene never found, in large part due to the Graggor's continued interest in keeping him out of prison. The final straw, however, was Kanin taking the life of a young woman outside of a job; Ezra then explained to the killer that he was simply too dangerous to continue to employ on a permanent basis. While the reasoning was sound, Kanin could hardly have been called thrilled at being fired; he impassively accepted his termination, but butchered a young orcish man the night following. Callous in his choice of location and the manner in which he killed the man, Kanin was brought in by law enforcement for the first time, and thus began one of the most controversial trials in Riordan's recent history.

Despite a clearly inordinate level of force used on Kanin's part, he was able to successfully plead not guilty of murder by way of self defense, it being readily apparent that he had killed the man, but the reasoning behind doing so much less so. Further, in a final favor for his longtime friend, Ezra collaborated with Kanin to send dozens of perjurious (and, shockingly, several sincere) character witnesses to the stand for the defense, as well as still more testifying that the man Kanin had killed had been extremely drunk, violent, and dangerous - not to mention significantly larger than the elf. These arguments and more were successful insofar as keeping Kanin from a decades-long stint behind bars, and he was found guilty only of the lesser charge of manslaughter, and sentenced to a mere eight years in prison; however, an expert's analysis of the killer's mental health recommended he be put on antipsychotic medication for the remainder of his life. Kanin ended up spending four years in a medium-security facility where he was constantly medicated, and his behavior improved greatly; further, he was allowed to spend much of his free time on the study of magic, provided that he was very strictly supervised, and received the benefits of a more complete education as well. His conduct was such that he was transferred to a minimum-security site halfway into his sentence, and given a much broader range of privileges while there; he developed a keen interest in a variety of strategic tabletop games and in his own fitness as a result of having so much time to spend on both.

However, like any good thing, Kanin's time in prison eventually came to an end, and the day he was released he retrieved his weaponry, bought new clothing, and returned to the East End to do the job it felt like he always had; however, he did not stop his course of antipsychotics. Though now taking on a much greater variety of jobs than his "cleaning" duties, Kanin was and continues to be recognized as one of Poria's - and, quite possibly, all of Riordan's - most prolific and deadly killers, and he is the man many go to if they can't afford any errors involved in their jobs. In the decade and a half since he was released, the elf has matured into a much more stable and precise individual, and has thus warranted trust and respect from his employers where he used to only merit fear and wariness. Further, he has taken a much more vested interest in magic than at any time before in his life, using a great deal of money to provision his home with a well-stocked library of the arcane arts, which he often peruses in his free time.


Magic: Though he studied under Fayrin for years, and put a great deal of effort into understanding magic while in prison, Kanin's principal strength lies in telepathy. He is capable not only of reading people's minds and projecting information to them without a word, but also of altering their perception and mental state, either subtly or (with a great deal more effort) overtly. While his raw potential is vast, having barely used his power in the first half of his life thus far has kept him from exploiting it fully - no doubt a good thing given his previous volatility.

One very useful trick Kanin did pick up from Fayrin, however, is the ability to draw magical energy from his surroundings to fuel his spellcasting - and, thus, often avoid using his own reserves on his magic. Thus, in the presence of a strong magical field, Kanin's strength in the supernatural is greatly amplified; in a "null" zone, however, he must greatly exhaust himself to generate stronger sorcerous effects.

Kanin's magical ability serves him very well in his line of work, both with the acquisition of information and in completing the more wicked aspects of his business unnoticed and unhindered.

Misc.: Kanin puts a great deal of importance on making sure he takes his medicine regularly, and to this end always keeps some on his person while remaining very well-stocked at home. He is a frequent and (unusually for an elf) fairly heavyweight drinker.

Kanin regularly corresponds with and sends gifts to his mother, though does not let on to the criminal activities which fund them, instead giving off the impression that he is a successful business specialist. If she is aware of his misdeeds, she is quite good at hiding as such.

Finally, the knife and pistol that Kanin carries with him are for much more than show; he has proven to be lightning-quick and deadly accurate in the use of both, whether his targets are expecting him or not; he is also a brawler of considerable repute, though avoids fighting unarmed wherever possible. His non-combat and non-magical skills include, unsurprisingly, great familiarity with forensic evidence (and the destruction thereof), breaking and entering, and technical and practical knowledge of a wide variety of firearms (and some explosives).
 

TimTh33nchant3r

Active Member
Member
I don't know how often I'll actually play, and I don't know jack about the setting, but I do enjoy RPGs. Mind if I drop a character in?

Name: Jain Korr
Gender: Male
Age: 28
Race: Human

Appearance: A tall, pale, man with shiny ebon-black hair tied back into a ponytail, Jain would seem an ordinary, if fairly attractive, human. Emerald eyes that radiate a cheerful warmth stare out of his clean-shaven face. However, his manner of dress completely overshadows any physical traits he may have. He typically swaggers about in a brilliantly-colored suit of some sort, his favorite being an eye-searing neon green. He nearly always carries with him a walking cane embossed with a convoluted picture of a dragon and plated in gold, that contains a concealed single-shot firearm. Due to the nature of his business, he also carries an abundance of burner cellphones on or about his person.

Personality: Jain is generally a friendly, jovial individual, a demeanor that he uses to entice people into doing what he wants. He's the sort of person to always buy a round for his friends, tip the waitress extravagantly, or even offer a bit of help getting her a "better" job. Of course, Jain's help comes at a price, and just because a job pays more does not make it better. Furthermore, there is another side to Jain, a much uglier one. He never lets a debt go unpaid, and once you owe something to him, he owns you. He doesn't tolerate people who welch on their debts, and has been known to leave people beaten and broken with his heavy cane.

HIstory: Jain's early life was one of poverty and competition. The first of five siblings with four younger sisters, he was always forced to fight the other people in his neighborhood for scraps. His siblings were all from different fathers, and from watching his mother he realized that women have a currency that is inherently valuable to men, but few of them knew how to market that currency effectively. As time passed, he began to facilitate this natural exchange and provide a certain measure of security for his younger siblings, ensuring that they got what he saw as their fair due for their time and effort, as well as ensuring that he got a cut of the action.

Eventually, Jain expended his operations and invited other young women into the group he protects, both by raw force of charisma, and by elimination of competition. He's never killed a client, after all, you don't kill the goose that lays the golden egg, but competitors are another story. Back when he first started recruiting new talent, he ran afoul of a similarly-inclined individual, and wound up beating him to death in a knock-down drag-out brawl. It was after this that he invested in the gun-cane; he sees no reason to give anyone a fair fight. The violence occurred in an out of the way section of the city, and was overlooked by the Porian law enforcement as an incident typical of the filthy slummies who lived there.

Magic: Jain has a sort of innate knack for dismantling things with magic, despite no formal training or understanding of the theory behind it. He has found that the more complicated a device is, the easier it is to cause all the parts to unscrew, spring out, fall loose, or otherwise just break. Complex firearms affected by his talent tend to spring into their constituent parts, while a simple sword might just have the pommel fall off, leaving it unbalanced, but still quite functional. Larger objects tend to be more difficult to affect.

Misc: Jain is very skilled at using his heavy cane as a baton, and moderately skilled at aiming his single bullet within it. He tends to abstain from drinking or most forms of drugs, as he's seen many people brought low by them in his youth and even now.

He still helps his family when he can, though his mother passed some time ago. In fact, his younger sisters have moved on to a more management-like role, acclimating the new girls to their new settings and jobs, and letting Jain know if they run into something that can't be handled peacefully.

His non-combat skills include being a smooth criminal, and looking sharp in green.

His magical trick lends itself quite nicely to breaking and entering as well, but he seldom uses it for that unless he's hunting someone who has wronged one of his.

((I haven't done one of these with you guys before iirc, but how does this look? I know it isn't as long as Tirin's, but his char is older.))
 

Jeroth

Mach Ambassador
Moderator
Approved. Both of you. I forgot prostitution as a possible ring to run. This will be fun.
 

Easy

Right Honorable Justice
Member
Still doin' this.

Name:
"Fortune" Poi, King of the Rats, AKA "Barberlord," AKA "Sevens," AKA "Pig-King Poi," AKA "Gobnob P," "AKA Number One Suspect," AKA "Wanted For Questioning," AKA (most recently) "The Bosstage"
Gender: M
Age: 35
Race: Goblin

Appearance: Lean, green, and very mean, with the top-left of his face intermittently scarred from splashes of burning liquid and a piece of the ear torn off from the same side. There is little point in describing the rest of his scarring, because a full-body visual record of various knifings, beatings, and otherwise miscellaneous violence-related collateral damage over time is a feature too ubiquitous and ever-evolving among East Poria street trash to be of any real help in distinguishing one from any other. Nor is his clothing any help in this regard, since the rags he wears around are constantly exchanged for different sets at one of the multiple slum-adjacent second-and-thirdhand clothing shops he owns, meaning that what this particular individual is wearing one day could very well be seen around town on a very different individual the next day, and vice versa. In fact, investigators assigned to shadow Fortune are generally told to make note of the fact that he has no known tattoos and a perfect smile, (for a goblin), with no sign of any rotting, metallic, broken, or missing teeth, because it's been actively demonstrated that even a goblin detective couldn't pick him out of a lineup otherwise. After adjusting for the teeth and tattoos, the same goblin detectives could do so at a success rate of very nearly forty-two percent.

Personality: As a child, Fortune was mean, cunning, cynical, and ruthless. He's matured a lot since then, of course, and like most people, he got to be a lot more mean, cunning, cynical, and ruthless as he went along. Fortune is also patient and slow to anger, but that doesn't really matter because he's gone through with killing plenty of people who'd never even made him angry at all. It's hard to describe what exactly it is that motivates this little goblin to do what he does, but a good attempt would be to say that he sees it as something of a game. Not the sort of game one plays for fun, mind you, but rather the way a professional chess player sits at the board - watching, analyzing, adjusting, and exercising the most subtle and graceful of maneuvers with a grim-faced determination that doesn't seem to hint at any sort of enjoyment at all beyond the occasional humorless smile.

History: Nobody really knows this, least of all himself, but Fortune was incredibly lucky from birth, and his luck only improved from there. Of course, this is all from the perspective that he was very lucky to have survived at all, so it wasn't really a good start to things, all considered.

Fortune was born in a cellar; his mother was a custodian, his father worked for airport security, and by all accounts both of them were good, honest people, even though they were also ugly little goblins. Neither of them were at fault for his uncles: on his father's side, one who was a well-known crook with the Elzebal's Street Concerned Citizen's Club (one of the most notorious criminal organizations in Riorden's history). On his mother's side, three more uncles were well connected with George Tomakaiei's gang on the South side. Both outfits, by the time of Fortune's birthday, had collectively aggravated and offended the Duende bosses and their business interests to the point that they were prepared to start going after family members, and so that's exactly what they did. The Duende's declaration of war was kicked off on the night of his birth, with a group of masked men breaking into Fortune's parents' home, doing such things to the young couple as would possibly discomfit Fortune himself to hear tell of, and eventually throwing the newborn babe into a back-alley dumpster halfway across town to die amidst the snow. By chance, a nursing stray dog found him while digging for scraps just afterwards, apparently mistook the tiny, squawking goblin baby for one of her own, and kept him from starving or freezing for another week until somebody came across the spectacle and called Social Services.

The case of yet another abandoned goblin baby being found was never linked to the "possibly drug related violence among goblins, in one of Riorden's poorer neighborhoods" that authorities never really bothered investigating, and Fortune himself certainly didn't remember it. In fact, his first memory of growing up was being very small and constantly being told what to do by a couple of large, pale, strangely smooth-skinned creatures who kept dropping him into some kind of roofless cage. So he put together a plan and escaped a few years later, eventually making his way to a neighborhood where the clothes were cheaper, the roads were in worse repair, and the six skinny little children playing unsupervised on the scrap-metal playground by the old tire swing looked a lot more like he did.

It's a lot easier to beg for a living among poor people than it is among wealthy people, which seems counterintuitive at first, but it works something like this: A gentleman and his lifelong friend are on their way back from the pub, when a ragged and filthy old man calls out at them from the next street corner along. "No, just tell him you're not carrying any money" he groans, seeing his friend reach for his wallet. "It's better in the long run, trust me. They never leave you alone otherwise." Meanwhile, a dockworker and his lifelong friend are heading home from the bar, stumbling over the occasional discarded food wrapper or empty bottle along the way, when a ragged and filthy old man calls out at them from the next street corner along. "Ah, fafuckssake" says the dockworker. "Give 'im somethin' so 'e shuts up, will ya? I 'ready done frowed a buckat'im las' week." Besides, poor people don't generally like talking to the authorities, while rich people often take it as a point of pride, and goblins of any economic status at all will tend to trust a policeman about ten paces less distance than they can throw one (which is rarely anywhere even close to ten paces at all). Law-abiding residents of the city slums paid just as little attention to the new kid as they did to all of the other unwashed, unsupervised children running about, while the more enterprising (and therefore, not at all law-abiding) locals took note of opportunity. It was one of these self-styled entrepreneurs who dubbed the boy "Fortune," for his obvious prowess in converting said entrepreneurs' illegal narcotics to crumpled, dirty, well-worn but perfectly legal hard currency.

The next several years of crime was fairly mundane stuff, and Fortune gradually started diversifying. At twelve, he saw his picture in a police flyer, and assumed the "POI" for "Person of Interest" was his actual name. By fourteen, he wasn't just being hired for small jobs, he was hiring for them. By sixteen, he had a full-time crew of street rats and served as the most prolific fence in St. John's. At eighteen, he was brought in for questioning for the very first time. At nineteen, he walked into Riorden's largest casino with a modest amount of illegitimately-earned money and then walked out again with a very large sum of perfectly legitimately-earned money. At twenty, he was brought into questioning for the seventh time. By the time he was twenty-two, he owned three clothing shops, a laundromat, a pig farm outside the city, a nightclub, and nearly a third of all illegal drug trafficking into Riorden. He was also the main reason why casinos in the city now only let goblins in through the doors if they are also exceptionally well-dressed (and even then, only grudgingly and with suspicion). By twenty-four, word was out on the streets that if you crossed the King of the Rats (for the high proportion of loyal street urchins in his employ), it ended with somebody shaving your head, smashing your teeth, chopping your limbs off, and feeding you to the pigs (though if you apologized nicely, he'd probably kill you first). Actually, that's only happened a few times so far, and the victims have always been killed first, but Fortune's never seen a reason to argue.

Due to ever-rising police interest in his activities and the regular strain it brings on business, Fortune's criminal enterprises have expanded little in the past decade. Gradually, management of supply lines and territorial disputes or agreements has shifted to the point where he doesn't get involved at all except for major concerns, and then only with brief, coded exchanges in person or over the phone. He's continued holding out in case the cops give up and find an easier mark to spend their time and money on, but the prospect of retiring altogether has grown more and more appealing with each passing year.

Magic:
Experts swear that he shouldn't even be capable of magic. "His neural makeup," they insist, "is absolutely not conducive to any extracorporeal ability at all. "Furthermore, the field-shift generally associated with such activity is not detected at any magnitude when the phenomenon is observed, and the phenomenon has been shown to be replicable even when steps have been taken specifically to block any such activity in the testing environment." This record then goes on to say: "It is the finding of this committee, that all possible measures have been taken to ascertain the means by which the subject may have violated the policies of the establishment, as presented to any or all customers, and has determined that it would be impossible to provide evidence of any such violation in a court of law." Be that as it may, Fortune always rolls sevens.

It works like this: if Fortune throws one die, it lands on 6. If Fortune throws seven or more dice, they all land on 1. If Fortune throws anywhere between two and six dice, there's no telling what any one of them will land on - so long as they all total 7. No magic can be detected while this is happening. No magic-blocking technology or effects prevent it from happening. It doesn't even seem as if Fortune is actively causing it to happen, or even able to stop it from happening. He just always rolls sevens.

Misc.: Like any street goblin who's made it this far, (and much more so than most), Fortune is no stranger to violence. Even though he rarely has the need or the occasion to do it in person these days, rather than paying a cleaner to take care of it for him, Fortune's about as tough, quick, dirty, and capable a fighter as ever a goblin was who wore steel-toed boots and held a knife or a knuckle-duster. Fortune's outfit for any given day will generally contain enough pockets and be loose-fitting enough to easily conceal: A 9mm handgun, a couple of extra magazines, switchblade, straight-razor, claw hammer, steel-toothed comb, lockpicks (a memento from his well-spent youth), a cheap burner phone, cheese wire (just because), spiked kuckle-dusters, a pair of perfectly ordinary six-sided dice, silver hip flask filled with finest brandy, matches, nickel-plated cigarette lighter, white gold cigar case filled with fancy imported cigars, and a mouthguard such as boxers or other professional fighters might wear. When you see him pull that mouthguard out of its casing and stick it in his face, it's time to clear out, because even though he weighs less than eighty pounds in full attire the little goblin's as hard and tough as a coffin nail, and hits back even harder than that. As to the handgun, many a rival gunman has found out the hard way that Fortune's size just made it harder for other people to shoot him; it doesn't work the other way around.
 
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Rondait

Well-Known Member
Member
Name: Shayliss Fiorian
Gender: Female
Age: 22
Race: Human

Appearance: Snow white hair coupled with hazel eyes are the first odd but beautiful features one would notice when they first lay eyes upon Shayliss. Her round face and rosy cheeks together with these unique features make her quite distinguishable in a crowd, or at least it would if she wasn't so short. A height of five feet and four inches while weighing about a hundred pounds tends to keep her unnoticed in the streets as most simply look over her. Those who know her well will remark that she seemingly has an outfit for every occasion. She's been known to wear five outfits in a day if the location where she'd be meeting people was even romotely different. In the course of an hour it is not unheard of for her to wear an evening gown one minute and a nice silky blue dress the next. As to how she finds the time to switch clothes so quickly even when away from home is a secret only known to her closest friends and herself. No matter what the outfit is that she is currently wearing however, she will wear a silver ring in her right ring finger with the name "Matthew" engraved upon it.
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Personality
To someone that doesn't know her, Shayliss will seem rude, reserved, and uncaring. Most of the people she meets on a day to day basis are to her merely customers, and even those who see her and pay her for her services often aren't usually given anything more than a dry sarcastic greeting and maybe a half smile along with what they pay for. The cold and distant demeanor she tends to hold are a result of her being nearly killed by assassins disguised as customers who would rather have one of the most infamous information brokers in town dead rather than alive, and of the course the murder of her parents. Her posh upbringing did much to keep the dangers of the world away from her, and as such she is often naive even if she is working hard to try and be more street-smart, a key skill if an information broker wishes to stay alive. To her friends, she is and invaluable ally who will use anything at her disposal to help them out, so long as they don't get in the way of her ultimate goal is to find any information as the location of her parents murderer who she knows only as "Matthew".

Having been dumped on the street and her inheritance taken away from her by opportunistic family members after her parents murder, she knows what it is like to be down on your luck. Now that she has a rather steady income from her ventures as an information broker, she will often hand a little bit of cash to those who she sees begging for it on the streets, so long as she believes that they are truly going to use the money to better herself. Though they took her fortune away from her, she harbors no ill will towards her extended family that took advantage of her parents demise. She believes that any harbored ill feelings towards her extended family would simply get in the way and cloud her judgement against her goal of killing Matthew.Still, though she is charitable and empathetic to the problems some people have, she is no saint. She is more than willing to air the dirty laundry of even the most liked people in town if it ends with her getting a paycheck. While she wouldn't necessarily kill for the sake of her job except in self defense, she is more than willing to kill, torture or whatever it else it is that she may need to do in order to have her vengeance.

History: Shayliss was born and raised in Poria to her parents Kathrine Fiorian (who's maiden name was Fathilfore) and Arthur Fiorian. She was their only child. Her father was part owner of a bank within Poria, which brought his family more money than they reasonably needed. Kathine Fiorian though beautiful, driven and outgoing tended to take the duties of child rearing and acted as a housewife in their rather large house. The families many servants were treated well, and generally only had to such things as yard work and a few daily errands. When Shayliss was growing up it was discovered that she had a large amount of magical talent even if it was only in conjuration after many animals such as cats and rabbits would appear in her room from seemingly nowhere. Her parents allowed her to keep one animal at a time since they knew if they didn't allow her to have one she'd summon them in secret and lose the animal within the house.. As she grew older she summoned larger animals, though they noticed that the animals she could summon at any given time could never be bigger than she was. Also curious wa her tendency to summon outfits for herself. When she was little her parents often called her princess and Shayliss took it to heart, summoning outfits fit for one, or at least what a five year old girl would consider fit for one. This trend of summoning outfits for any given occasion would be something that she kept for her entire life. When she was six her parents invested in a teacher to have her hone her magicand keep it in check. Her teacher, Lissandris, a middle aged elf who lived in the opposite end of town, became her closest friend as she was growing up and lived in the servants quarters of the house. Lissandris over the years told Shayliss of his past. He was a down on his luck mage who never could find employment and usually turned to shadier methods of making money until Shayliss' parents offered him an honest job. Over the years she learned under him and he taught her many things from fencing to having a mental connection with her summoned animals allowing them to talk to one another.

A month after her twentieth birthday she awoke to the sound of screaming. Her mentor, Lissandris, burst into the room carrying a .357 revolver and a rapier. He handed her both, telling her to keep quiet as he ran downstairs to attempt to find her parents. She held the gun steadily at the door when she heard the sounds of struggle in the room across the hall from her. She dropped the rapier onto her bed as she ran towards the room, poked her head in and saw a tall slender blonde human male standing with his back to the door slicing her mother's throat with a jackknife while her dad's corpse was against the wall on the other side of the room bleeding from many places. She stood, frozen in shock as the man turned, his head and noticed her. He smiled. She pulled the trigger on the gun. There was nothing more than a click.
A mildly amused and slightly raspy voice came from the man, "I think you forgot to pull the hammer down".
He then reached out his hand, said a few words, and she fell asleep.

The next day, she awoke to find herself in an unfamiliar room. She woke up, walked out of the room and saw LIssandris waiting for her.
"Where are we?" She inquired.
"Have you really never been to the servants quarters before?"
"No. My parents told me not to go poking around in here...wait...what happened?"
"Well, it wasn't a dream, before you ask."
"What wasn't a dream?"

Lissandris was shocked, and explained to her the events of the night before as he knew it. He told her that her parents had been murdered and he found her in a pool of her parents blood with an unfamiliar ring on the floor. She had not remembered anything. She went back in the house and lived there for a few weeks, taking in her parents death. She announced their funeral, but at the funeral one of her uncles from her dad's side produced a deed to the house, and her father's will which ceded everything to him. She didn't believe that her father would just snub his wife and daughter out of the will, but she had no documents to prove otherwise. The court ruled that everything belonged to her uncle. Her uncle then made her leave the house, letting her take only her belongings. Her mentor, Lissandris, left with her, and showed her how to make a living through dirty work. Together, they were the most successful information brokers in the town. They used summoned animals to sneak into places and overhear conversations, and sold any dirty laundry on rumors to those paid the most. Sadly, a year later, he trusted advisor and friend died to a terrible virus that swept through the lower income areas of the town where they often worked. She kept his trusty weapons, the .357 and rapier, and intended to live on as an honor to him and her family.
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Magic: Shayliss is proficient in the use of conjuration magic. She often uses the magic to produce different outfits a day allowing her to better fit into whatever enviroment she goes on. Her summoned outfits generally also contain concealed places to hold her weapons. Her main use of magic though is to summon animal companions to do much of her work for her and occasionally protect her. She can only summon one creature a day, no matter the size, but she can have more than creature alive at any given time so long as the combined weight of her summoned creatures don't outweigh her. She generally favors summoning mice, birds and cats to collect information for her and if she's ever in a spot of trouble she'll usually summon an eagle or a leopard for defense.

Misc.: While she isn't an accurate shot, she does carry a concealed .357 revolver with ammo on her at all times. She also, if possible, carries a rapier she is extremely trained in using.




Well, the story kind of became convoluted at the end there, but it is what it is. Haven't really done a long term RP on here before so I figured what the heck, I'll give it a shot.
 

Easy

Right Honorable Justice
Member
You did, buddy.
 

Jeroth

Mach Ambassador
Moderator
Also. I'll throw up an OP when I get home. Just a simple scene for everyone to react to before progressing slightly. Anyone can jump in this game thankfully.
 

Jeroth

Mach Ambassador
Moderator
I'll add this as an edit. For the first post, just draw up a connection from your character to the Vincenzo Farros. Overall, he was as kind and honorable as crime bases went whom you likely had a good relationship with or at the very least, a good memory of him.

Also, everyone is accepted.
 

coolpool2

Savage AF
The Original Gangster
My post assumes that my character was not in the bar when the things went down, and that they were not involved in any way.
 

TimTh33nchant3r

Active Member
Member
Was re-reading my post and realized that I'd used the word "resolve" in some form twice in the same sentence, albeit different definitions of it. Rusty and tired Tim is rusty and tired.
 
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