New Character "Rift" Name: Rift
Age: 22
Race: Human
Class: Rogue
Alignment: True Neutral
Deity: Agnostic
Biography:
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"His lives in the docks district. Shady fellow. Funny how that sort always tends to end up there. Myself, I hate the smell of fishes--"
"Address?"
"A bit impatient are we? I guess I won't put the teapot on." A small envelope was passed accross the table in the dimly lit room. "All the information is in there, along with your... compensation. Half now and half when the job is done. Standard policy." The cloaked man across from him eyed the contents of the envelope and quietly tucked it away. "You'll want to be extra careful with him. He knows he's a marked man. Ever since he showed up and started driving away business... well, not all the money in that envelope is mine. There are plenty who want him gone. He's hired guards. We're not sure how many, but probably only a few. Even still, I strongly recommend you take a partner with you."
"I work alone." The truth was that he was used to being alone. In fact, he had scarcely known any other way. He had grown up on the streets, abandoned, unwanted, orphaned. It was an environment devoid of so many common childhood experiences. Love, learning, and friendship--the kinds of things that normal, well-balanced children experience in childhood. These were replaced by the basic, driving need to survive--simply survive. Laws and morals were luxuries that could only be afforded by the rich--by people who never had to steal a loaf of bread to ease their appetite--people who didn't have to carry a dagger for as long as they could remember. Their's was a world completely foreign. A world where you didn't have to be alone. The man in the cloak had never lived in that world.
A single raised eyebrow seemed to protest, but lowered again as the man's face assumed an expression absent of emotion. It was an expression that seemed to fit the man. No doubt it had served him well in business.
He remembered the recommendation that he had received regarding this man. Quick, efficient, and scary as hell. Yes, that just about described him. Still, he had always had trouble trusting a man with only one name. Rift. What a strange name. Then again, a man must protect himself, and it certainly wasn't as heinous as the names some aspiring young assassins had been known to use before, like James "the Dark Dagger" or Geoffrey "the Icy Grip". Might as well call yourself James "the Amateur" or Geoffrey "it's My First Contract and I'm a Dead Man."
He decided not to press the issue about having a partner.
"My associates and I have our own schedules as well. We need this done within three days."
With a single nod the man in the cloak rose from his chair and headed towards the door. The man at the table followed him with his eyes, scrutinizing. A draft of cool night air sent a slight shiver through him, and as he watched the cloaked figure slip into the darkness of the alley outside he indulged in the smallest hint of a smile. Money well spent.
Outside, the man in the cloak drank in the night air with single deep breath, let out slowly. He put on the night as if putting on a second skin. In many ways it felt to him more natural. His uncanny ability to become one with the shadows had saved his first skin a good many times. Night and shadow were like trusted friends in a world where such things were a rare commodity, and as he made his way to the docks district he was glad for the company.
Along the way he picked up the small bag he had concealed only a few hundred yards from the inn where he had picked up the contract. Lock picks, a few vials containing various alchemical solutions, two daggers (sharpened only four hours previous and freshly coated with a thin layer of slick, black poison), a light crossbow, and a few changes of clothing had previously been prepared. The gear and the recommendation had cost him the better part of what scrounging and pickpocketing had earned him over the last ten years, and as the moon continued on it's lazy path across the night sky, Rift was determined to fulfill his first contract flawlessly. Four hours remained until sunrise. |