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Landsoftheblacksea:Main Page/players/danithe thorne

2022-05-16T21:09:04Z

Darithe: /* Thieves Abilities */

[[ Landsoftheblacksea:Main_Page#Player_Characters | '''Return to the Main Page''']]

A woman running from her past and perhaps seeking redemption.

[[File:ZZDarithe2C.jpg | thumb]]

== Basics ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Character Name !! Player Name !! Race !! Class !! Alignment !! AC !! Experience !! Hit Points
|-
| Darithe Thorne (Meav Delte) || Desconocida || Human || Thief 4 || Chaotic Good || 7 (With Dex Adj) || 5035 / 10000 || 12
|-
|}

== Physical ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Age !! Height !! Weight !! Eye Colour !! Hair Colour
|-
| 19 || 5'6" || 110 lbs || Light Green || Black
|}

== Stats ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:left"
|-
| Strength || '''11''' || ''Wt. Allowance: 40#; Max Press: 115#; Open Doors: 6; Bend Bars: 2%''
|-
| Dexterity || '''17''' || ''+2 React. Adj; +2 Missile Att. Adj.; -3 Def. Adj.''
|-
| Constitution || '''12''' || ''Sys. Shock: 80%; Res. Surv: 85%''
|-
| Intelligence || '''14''' || ''#Lang: 4''
|-
| Wisdom || '''10''' ||
|-
| Charisma || '''16''' || ''Mx. Hench: 8; Loy. Base: +4; Reac. Adj.: +5''
|-
|}

+10% XP Bonus

== Saving Throws ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Paralyzation/Poison/Death Magic !! Rod, Staff or Wand !! Petrification or Plymorph !! Breath Weapon !! Spell
|-
|| 13 || 14 || 13 || 15 || 12
|}
== Weapon Proficiencies ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Dagger'''
|-
|'''Hand Crossbow'''
|-
|}
== Nonweapon Proficiencies ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Blacksmithing (11)'''
|-
|'''Cooking (14)'''
|-
|'''Healing (8)'''
|-
|'''Herbalism (12)'''
|-
|'''Swimming (11)'''
|-
|'''Tumbling (17)'''
|-
|}

== Thieves Abilities ==
{| class="wikitable" style="text-align:center"
! Skill !! Base !! Dex Bonus !! Level Bonuses !! No Armor Mod !! Magic Adj. !! ''' Total ''' !! Notes
|-
| '''Pick Pockets''' || 15% || 5% || 0% || 5% || 0% || ''' 25% ''' ||
|-
| '''Open Locks''' || 10% || 10% || 25% || 0% || 0% || ''' 45% ''' ||
|-
| '''Find/Remove Traps''' || 5% || 0% || 50% || 0% || 0% || ''' 55% ''' ||
|-
| '''Move Silently''' || 10% || 5% || 20% || 10% || 10% || ''' 55% ''' || Movement reduced to 1/3
|-
| '''Hide in Shadows''' || 5% || 5% || 40% || 5% || 10% || ''' 65% ''' ||
|-
| '''Detect Noise''' || 15% || 0% || 5% || 0% || 0% || ''' 20% ''' ||
|-
| '''Climb Walls''' || 60% || 0% || 5% || 10% || 0% || ''' 75% ''' ||
|-
| '''Read Languages''' || 0% || 0% || 5% || 0% || 0% || ''' 5% ''' ||
|}

Back Stab times 2.

== Encumbrance ==
{| class="wikitable"
|'''Unencumbered'''
|'''''0-40'''''
|-
|'''Light'''
|'''''41-58'''''
|-
|'''Moderate'''
|'''''59-76'''''
|-
|'''Heavy'''
|'''''77-96'''''
|-
|'''Severe'''
|'''''97-110'''''
|-
|}
== Equipment ==
{| class="wikitable"
! Item !! Weight !! Carried
|-
|''' Potion of Clairaudience ''' 
|''''' 0 '''''
|''''' Pouch '''''
|-
|''' Clothing '''
|''''' 3 '''''
|''''' Worn '''''
|-
|''' Leather Armor '''
|''''' 15 '''''
|''''' Worn '''''
|-
|''' Backpack '''
|''''' 2 '''''
|''''' Worn '''''
|-
|''' Small pouch '''
|''''' 0.5 '''''
|''''' Worn '''''
|-
|''' 9 gold coins '''
|''''' 0 '''''
|''''' Pouch '''''
|-
|''' Hand Crossbow '''
|''''' 3 '''''
|''''' Belt '''''
|-
|''' Dagger (x2) '''
|''''' 2 '''''
|''''' Belt '''''
|-
|''' Dwarven made Dagger (x2) '''
|''''' 2 '''''
|''''' Belt '''''
|-
|''' Quiver '''
|''''' 1 '''''
|''''' Belt '''''
|-
|''' Quarrels (20) '''
|''''' 1 '''''
|''''' Belt '''''
|-
|''' Hooded Lantern '''
|''''' 2 '''''
|''''' Backpack '''''
|-
|''' 3 Flasks of Lantern Oil '''
|''''' 3 '''''
|''''' Backpack '''''
|-
|''' Flint & Steel '''
|''''' 0 '''''
|''''' Backpack '''''
|-
|''' Dry Rations (3 days) '''
|''''' 2 '''''
|''''' Backpack '''''
|-
|''' Waterskin '''
|''''' 1 '''''
|''''' Backpack '''''
|-
|''' Sewing Needle '''
|''''' 0 '''''
|''''' Backpack '''''
|-
|''' Thieves Picks '''
|''''' 1 '''''
|''''' Backpack '''''
|-
|''' Vial of Perfume '''
|''''' 0 '''''
|''''' Backpack '''''
|-
|''' Whetstone '''
|''''' 1 '''''
|''''' Backpack '''''
|-
|''' Fine Quality Deck of Playing Cards '''
|''''' 0 '''''
|''''' Backpack '''''
|-
|''' (Violet Total) '''
|''''' 15 '''''
|''''' '''''
|-
|''' Total w/ Backpack ''' 
|''''' 39.5 '''''
|''' Light '''
|-
|''' Total w/o Backpack ''' 
|''''' 24.5 '''''
|''' Unencumbered '''
|-
|}



== Equipment Stored in Rooms ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Numerous Changes of Clothing'''
|-
|'''Set of Obsidian Dice With Bone Pips'''
|-
|'''Hooded Fine Fur Cloak'''
|-
|'''Fine Women's Clothing from Veniri'''
|-
|'''Urn of Saakh Oil'''
|-
|'''10 gold coins stored in Fariya's locked chest'''
|-
|'''20 gold in letters of credit stored in Fariya's locked chest'''
|-
|'''100 gold worth of gems stored in Fariya's locked chest'''
|-
|}

== Languages ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Common'''
|-
|'''Vox Mercanti'''
|-
|'''Thieves' Cant'''
|-
|}

== Background ==
[[File:ZZDarithe2L.jpg]]

'''Birthplace''': Belies-ar-Weil

'''Parents''': Both deceased

'''Sibling''': Vari (younger sister) deceased

She stared at her reflection in the mirror for a long time. The red hair would take some getting used to. The shorn locks of her previously long tresses less so, as that frequently just got in the way of her skills. No sign of her Da's dark hair now, the only part she truly inherited from him. Just as the freckles across her pale features came from her mother. Her hands were near as red as the hair stained from the dye. Somehow that seemed apt. She scrubbed the dye from her hands in the washbasin. At least that stain could be washed away...

Darithe Thorne was her name now. Once she had been Meav Delte, the daughter of a blacksmith in the town of Belies-ar-Weil, located mid-way along the coast of Athervon between Avis Inia, the seat of the Kingdom, to the North, and Avis Armois, the oldest and most far-flung of the Kingdom’s major cities, to the South. Her father was as dumb as the anvil he pounded everyday, but he was kind and had a ready smile, and was gentle with his young daughters Meav and her sister Vari. He did his best to support his two daughters on what little income he could make from shoeing horses and hammering out crude nails to build the rickety buildings in this poor section of town.

Their mother passed from a fever when Vari was five. Meav was three years older and did the best she could for her Da and young sister. She took care of them and when money was short she did what she had to for a few more coins to add to their larder. She helped in the smithy as much as she could and took care of delivering special orders for her Da. She found with a pretty smile she would sometimes even get tips, not much, but everything helped. She was poor but she was bright. She quickly picked up some smithing skills from her father and taught herself to read and write, which was rare for the people from her part of town.

Belis-ar-Weil was neither particularly large nor particularly small; but it held a strategic location at the mouth of the Aumine river, which carried the riches of the Kingdom’s interior to the sea, where it was then sent to either Avis Inia or Avis Armois for final destinations. Due to this vast amount of traffic in lucrative goods, the town had more than its fair share of criminal element, intent on skimming some of the proceeds for themselves. While there were a number of gangs that operated around the town, all paid their respects to the notorious Five Points Brotherhood. The Brotherhood was a huge network of Thieves that had bases over nearly the entire Kingdom – at least, that was what was said. Based out of the Capitol, The Brotherhood controlled virtually all the illegal traffic flowing on the land route between Avis Inia and Tras Veniri, and had a heavy hand in distribution to points beyond inside of Athervon. No one of sane mind crossed The Brotherhood – their operatives and informants were everywhere, and they did not hesitate to deal with problems that threatened their profitable position.

Meav had never planned to join them. To the contrary, she had always steered clear of the young gangs of new recruits, and ignored their catcalls, offers, and sometimes threats as she made her deliveries in town – that she could deal with. What really made her pick up her pace was the way one of the older members – a street captain known as Dregs – looked at her. He didn’t seem to be looking at the pretty young woman with leering eyes and lustful sneers like the others. No, Dregs always seemed to be assessing whether she might be useful to him, whether she could be an asset to his operation. His cold gaze watched her every time she passed, but he never said a thing – just gave a slight touch to his cap in greeting after their eyes met, and then turned back to his business.

She choked back a laugh thinking about it now.

She managed to keep things on an even keel until her 17th year. That was the year her Da passed – walking home at night after the neighborhood innkeeper had rewarded him with a few pints for some emergency repairs to some of his stable equipment, he must’ve never seen the horseman, riding at a full gallop along the dark road. She ran out at the sounds and screams to see him lying in the mud, blood beginning to form a small pool around him. The rider never stopped, disappearing into the darkness.

After Da was in the ground, she assessed the situation, and realized something had to give. She didn't see herself or Vari swinging a hammer to make a living. She retched at the thought of some of the things women did for coin near the docks – she would die before that became her fate. Then the faces of the gang captains came to her – that cold gaze, assessing her. Perhaps she could be of use to them.

She had no idea how to initiate a conversation about this, but her mind was made up. She walked directly up to Dregs through the crowd of his young proteges, the blood that was pounding in her ears drowning out their infantile suggestions and insults.

“I need some work.” She blurted it out without even knowing it. She held her breath waiting for him to speak.

For a moment, he didn’t – just looked at her again with the same cold eyes.

Finally, he spoke. “B’out time. Let’s get ya to Fergasse, see what he has fer ya.” His voice was rough, thin, fitting his grizzled appearance perfectly. She realized it was the first time she had ever heard it.

Fergasse was the local Master of The Brotherhood, overseeing their operations in the town. If he had ever been a working thief, there was no way to tell now – he was a very fat man, who spent more time overseeing account books than picking pockets. But he was the ordained boss for The Brotherhood in town, and he did not need to worry about his girth – there were plenty of fit gang members who would take care of any of Fergasse’s problems.

Dregs brought her to a warehouse by the docks, one she had always been warned to stay away from by Ma & Da. She had to pass by room after room of intimidating looking men, and one even patted her down and felt her up making sure she didn’t have a weapon. Finally she was in Fergasse’s “office”, a large room filled with boxes, bags, sacks, barrels, crates, chests, and every manner of thing used to transport goods – as well as piles and piles of leather-bound books: ship’s journals, logs, account books, inventory scrolls. Fergasse supervised a small army of men moving things in and out while another army was copying and modifying books, writing so fast they were sweating. Fergasse’s eye flicked to her after Dreg was able to whisper something in his ear, and he spat something back she didn’t hear, before he turned back to conducting the mayhem in the room.

Dreg took her back to her place and told her how it would work. She would start just doing "special deliveries" and watching for the town guard who's eyes were easily distracted by a lithe darkhaired lass. It was easy work for the most part, and she was good at it – folks knew her Da was gone, and men circled her like buzzards if she gave them the chance, wanting to be there when her finances or her will finally broke.

But those tasks weren't enough to support her and Vari; soon, she was pestering Dreg for bigger opportunity. Happy with her performance, he graduated her to more advanced work for the guild.

She took to the tasks like a bird to the air. It excited her. It gave her freedom from the drudgery of the smithy. And the coins to be had (earned?) were greater than she had ever seen. Though just eighteen by then, she quickly became a rising star in the guild. Soon enough, Dregs re-introduced her to Fergasse at the Bosses’ request. Fergasse wanted to have a look at this new recruit who was making him so much money.

As Fergasse spoke about the impression she had made, and that if she played her cards right she could have a bright future in The Brotherhood, she noticed a young man lounging back on a pile of grain sacks, staring at her with dark, hooded eyes. She had seen that stare before, but she was not that person anymore. She ignored the look, her lip curling into a mild sneer to express her disinterest.

After the meeting was over, she asked Dregs about the man. “Eh? On the sacks? Ach, thas Dany – Fergasse’s boyo. What ye’want wit him? Oh ya? Fancy’s ya does he? Well, ya be careful lass – that boyo’s got more problems than the Emperor of Jhon, he does – and he’ll make’em your problems if ya let ‘im. Best steer clear of ‘im, stay focused on yer work. He’s trouble if you like ‘im – but he’s also trouble if ya don’t, if ya take my meaning. Don’t make Fergasse choose between yas.”

She learned from others that Dany was an addict – he smoked the seeds from the Jhonian mazak plant, which generated the dark circles around his eyes and the vacant stare.

She heeded Dregs advice and made every attempt to avoid Dany. But to her dismay, Dany had other ideas. Apparently infatuated by her, he began hanging out in her neighborhood, repeatedly offering to buy her dinner, drinks, or to join him in a harmless smoke. She rebuffed him – gently, carefully, always saying that she had something to get done for his father. More than once she had to signal Dregs to intercept them and provide an escape. She began to stay away from the house more – Vari had enough money and was getting old enough to take care of herself and most of the chores at home while Meav earned their keep.

She used the time to hone her skills every day and the exciting life on the edge became like a drug to her. What started as a tactic to avoid Dany soon became a need to spend more and more time finding ways to complete the jobs allotted to her in the most impressive way possible. Vari was left to fend for herself as Meav was gone more and more, but Meav told herself Vari would have to learn to manage the home at some point, which assuaged her guilt at not being home with her sister.

One night, exhausted from nearly two solid days of casing a new ship that had arrived, she came home and found Vari in her bed – with Dany lying next to her. From the look of it, they had apparently been celebrating for days – there were clothes and half-eaten meals everywhere. The bitter-sweet smell of mazak hit her nostrils, and she noticed several pipes were strewn about, full of the dark tarry residue the drug leaves.

Meav was incensed – Vari had ruined everything! Now what was she going to do?

She carefully stepped over Dany and shook Vari, whispering for her to get up. But the girl remained prone, motionless. She shook harder, finally pulling her hard and flipping her over – to recoil in horror as the wide, sightless eyes of her sister stared back at her from dark hooded sockets, the open lips tinged blue.

Meav stumbled back against the wall, her heart pounding. She couldn’t think. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

She started as Dany mumbled something and rolled over onto one arm, lifting himself up on his elbow. His heavy-lidded eyes revealed he was still in the throes of the drug. He reached out to Vari, touching the dead girls arm. A minute later, a giggle erupted from him.

“I told…told you. You got to…to work up to…to it. Can’t be doing what I do. Sil…silly…girl.”

He flopped down, finally noticing Meav. “Oh…hey. You’re here. That’s great – I really was interested in you more anyway.” His eyes fluttered closed again, and he resumed gently snoring.

That day Meav picked up her Da's hammer for the last time in doing so ended her time in the guild, and guildmaster's son's life.

She looked once more in the mirror. Meav was dead, and Darithe reborn from her ashes. A dark phoenix for sure. She gathered her meager belongs and wrapped herself in her father oversized cloak and started outside. She glanced once more back at the smithy and then was gone. She walked on leaving the past behind.

A new town then, one where she is unknown. A place to disappear. The further from The Brotherhood, the better. Getting on a ship was too dangerous – The Brotherhood controlled the river and sea trade, she would be seen and her suspicious departure noted, if not prevented altogether. No, she had to leave by land.

In the dark of night, she stole down the South Road, which followed the coast all the way to Avis Armois. Far from the Capitol, perhaps there she could shake pursuit long enough to come up with a more long-term plan. The Mire Queen now beckoned to her which seemed appropriate somehow having become mired herself. As she walked she whispered a soft prayer (to whom she did not know) for forgiveness. But in her heart she knew forgiveness was reserved for those who deserved it.

The best steel doesn't always shine the brightest. Her da had taught her that and she thought of him as she walked south towards Avis Armois, the greatcloak wrapped around her due to the cool of the morn. She could still faintly smell him on it and those smells were comforting, almost as if he still embraced her in the folds of that big cloak. She breathed them in and smiled thinking of him, the pungent smell of the corrosive oils he used to clean his tools were there, and the pleasant smokey aroma of the coals of his forge still clung to the threads, and the musky smell of sweat after a good hard day of honest... She stopped abruptly and bit her lower lip. She sighed, the past is written. She could not change it no matter how much she wished to. But the future is a blank page. And that she could write.

She spotted a small family going in the opposite direction approaching, a young man, his pretty wife and two small girls tugging at their parent's cloaks. She smiled and nodded to them as their paths crossed. Her mind calling back memories of her own youth and her sister Vari. She turned and caught back up to the family offering them most of her fruit. It wouldn't last long and she knew she couldn't eat it all before it went bad. She kept a stem of grapes for herself and waved to them as they continued their journey farther away from her. She returned to the path she had chosen and walked on alone.

<!-- |-
|''' Spy Mask ''' 
|''''' 0 '''''
|''''' Worn '''''
|-
|''' Cloak of the Hunter ''' 
|''''' 2 '''''
|''''' Worn ''''' --!>

<!-- '''Potion of Clairaudience''' ''(This potion empowers the creature drinking it to hear as the 3rd-level wizard spell of the same name. However, the potion can be used to hear even unknown areas within 30 yards. Its effects last for two turns. Spell Description: The clairaudience spell enables the wizard to concentrate upon some locale and hear in his mind any noise within a 60-foot radius of that point. Distance is not a factor, but the locale must be known--a place familiar to the spellcaster or an obvious one (such as behind a door, around a corner, in a copse of trees, etc.). Only sounds that are normally detectable by the wizard can be heard by use of this spell. Lead sheeting or magical protections prevent the operation of the spell, and the wizard has some indication that the spell is so blocked. The spell creates an invisible sensor, similar to that created by a crystal ball spell, that can be dispelled. The spell functions only on the wizard's current plane of existence. The material component of the spell is a small horn of at least 100 gp value.)'' --!>

<!-- '''Spy Mask''' ''(Allows one to use Change Self once per day. Necromantic aspect is not identified at this time.)'' --!>

Landsoftheblacksea:Main Page/players/danithe thorne

2022-05-16T21:06:38Z

Darithe: /* Thieves Abilities */

[[ Landsoftheblacksea:Main_Page#Player_Characters | '''Return to the Main Page''']]

A woman running from her past and perhaps seeking redemption.

[[File:ZZDarithe2C.jpg | thumb]]

== Basics ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Character Name !! Player Name !! Race !! Class !! Alignment !! AC !! Experience !! Hit Points
|-
| Darithe Thorne (Meav Delte) || Desconocida || Human || Thief 4 || Chaotic Good || 7 (With Dex Adj) || 5035 / 10000 || 12
|-
|}

== Physical ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Age !! Height !! Weight !! Eye Colour !! Hair Colour
|-
| 19 || 5'6" || 110 lbs || Light Green || Black
|}

== Stats ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:left"
|-
| Strength || '''11''' || ''Wt. Allowance: 40#; Max Press: 115#; Open Doors: 6; Bend Bars: 2%''
|-
| Dexterity || '''17''' || ''+2 React. Adj; +2 Missile Att. Adj.; -3 Def. Adj.''
|-
| Constitution || '''12''' || ''Sys. Shock: 80%; Res. Surv: 85%''
|-
| Intelligence || '''14''' || ''#Lang: 4''
|-
| Wisdom || '''10''' ||
|-
| Charisma || '''16''' || ''Mx. Hench: 8; Loy. Base: +4; Reac. Adj.: +5''
|-
|}

+10% XP Bonus

== Saving Throws ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Paralyzation/Poison/Death Magic !! Rod, Staff or Wand !! Petrification or Plymorph !! Breath Weapon !! Spell
|-
|| 13 || 14 || 13 || 15 || 12
|}
== Weapon Proficiencies ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Dagger'''
|-
|'''Hand Crossbow'''
|-
|}
== Nonweapon Proficiencies ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Blacksmithing (11)'''
|-
|'''Cooking (14)'''
|-
|'''Healing (8)'''
|-
|'''Herbalism (12)'''
|-
|'''Swimming (11)'''
|-
|'''Tumbling (17)'''
|-
|}

== Thieves Abilities ==
{| class="wikitable" style="text-align:center"
! Skill !! Base !! Dex Bonus !! Level Bonuses !! No Armor Mod !! Magic Adj. !! ''' Total ''' !! Notes
|-
| '''Pick Pockets''' || 15% || 5% || 0% || 5% || 0% || ''' 25% ''' ||
|-
| '''Open Locks''' || 10% || 10% || 20% || 0% || 0% || ''' 45% ''' ||
|-
| '''Find/Remove Traps''' || 5% || 0% || 35% || 0% || 0% || ''' 55% ''' ||
|-
| '''Move Silently''' || 10% || 5% || 20% || 10% || 10% || ''' 55% ''' || Movement reduced to 1/3
|-
| '''Hide in Shadows''' || 5% || 5% || 30% || 5% || 10% || ''' 65% ''' ||
|-
| '''Detect Noise''' || 15% || 0% || 5% || 0% || 0% || ''' 20% ''' ||
|-
| '''Climb Walls''' || 60% || 0% || 5% || 10% || 0% || ''' 75% ''' ||
|-
| '''Read Languages''' || 0% || 0% || 5% || 0% || 0% || ''' 5% ''' ||
|}

Back Stab times 2.

== Encumbrance ==
{| class="wikitable"
|'''Unencumbered'''
|'''''0-40'''''
|-
|'''Light'''
|'''''41-58'''''
|-
|'''Moderate'''
|'''''59-76'''''
|-
|'''Heavy'''
|'''''77-96'''''
|-
|'''Severe'''
|'''''97-110'''''
|-
|}
== Equipment ==
{| class="wikitable"
! Item !! Weight !! Carried
|-
|''' Potion of Clairaudience ''' 
|''''' 0 '''''
|''''' Pouch '''''
|-
|''' Clothing '''
|''''' 3 '''''
|''''' Worn '''''
|-
|''' Leather Armor '''
|''''' 15 '''''
|''''' Worn '''''
|-
|''' Backpack '''
|''''' 2 '''''
|''''' Worn '''''
|-
|''' Small pouch '''
|''''' 0.5 '''''
|''''' Worn '''''
|-
|''' 9 gold coins '''
|''''' 0 '''''
|''''' Pouch '''''
|-
|''' Hand Crossbow '''
|''''' 3 '''''
|''''' Belt '''''
|-
|''' Dagger (x2) '''
|''''' 2 '''''
|''''' Belt '''''
|-
|''' Dwarven made Dagger (x2) '''
|''''' 2 '''''
|''''' Belt '''''
|-
|''' Quiver '''
|''''' 1 '''''
|''''' Belt '''''
|-
|''' Quarrels (20) '''
|''''' 1 '''''
|''''' Belt '''''
|-
|''' Hooded Lantern '''
|''''' 2 '''''
|''''' Backpack '''''
|-
|''' 3 Flasks of Lantern Oil '''
|''''' 3 '''''
|''''' Backpack '''''
|-
|''' Flint & Steel '''
|''''' 0 '''''
|''''' Backpack '''''
|-
|''' Dry Rations (3 days) '''
|''''' 2 '''''
|''''' Backpack '''''
|-
|''' Waterskin '''
|''''' 1 '''''
|''''' Backpack '''''
|-
|''' Sewing Needle '''
|''''' 0 '''''
|''''' Backpack '''''
|-
|''' Thieves Picks '''
|''''' 1 '''''
|''''' Backpack '''''
|-
|''' Vial of Perfume '''
|''''' 0 '''''
|''''' Backpack '''''
|-
|''' Whetstone '''
|''''' 1 '''''
|''''' Backpack '''''
|-
|''' Fine Quality Deck of Playing Cards '''
|''''' 0 '''''
|''''' Backpack '''''
|-
|''' (Violet Total) '''
|''''' 15 '''''
|''''' '''''
|-
|''' Total w/ Backpack ''' 
|''''' 39.5 '''''
|''' Light '''
|-
|''' Total w/o Backpack ''' 
|''''' 24.5 '''''
|''' Unencumbered '''
|-
|}



== Equipment Stored in Rooms ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Numerous Changes of Clothing'''
|-
|'''Set of Obsidian Dice With Bone Pips'''
|-
|'''Hooded Fine Fur Cloak'''
|-
|'''Fine Women's Clothing from Veniri'''
|-
|'''Urn of Saakh Oil'''
|-
|'''10 gold coins stored in Fariya's locked chest'''
|-
|'''20 gold in letters of credit stored in Fariya's locked chest'''
|-
|'''100 gold worth of gems stored in Fariya's locked chest'''
|-
|}

== Languages ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Common'''
|-
|'''Vox Mercanti'''
|-
|'''Thieves' Cant'''
|-
|}

== Background ==
[[File:ZZDarithe2L.jpg]]

'''Birthplace''': Belies-ar-Weil

'''Parents''': Both deceased

'''Sibling''': Vari (younger sister) deceased

She stared at her reflection in the mirror for a long time. The red hair would take some getting used to. The shorn locks of her previously long tresses less so, as that frequently just got in the way of her skills. No sign of her Da's dark hair now, the only part she truly inherited from him. Just as the freckles across her pale features came from her mother. Her hands were near as red as the hair stained from the dye. Somehow that seemed apt. She scrubbed the dye from her hands in the washbasin. At least that stain could be washed away...

Darithe Thorne was her name now. Once she had been Meav Delte, the daughter of a blacksmith in the town of Belies-ar-Weil, located mid-way along the coast of Athervon between Avis Inia, the seat of the Kingdom, to the North, and Avis Armois, the oldest and most far-flung of the Kingdom’s major cities, to the South. Her father was as dumb as the anvil he pounded everyday, but he was kind and had a ready smile, and was gentle with his young daughters Meav and her sister Vari. He did his best to support his two daughters on what little income he could make from shoeing horses and hammering out crude nails to build the rickety buildings in this poor section of town.

Their mother passed from a fever when Vari was five. Meav was three years older and did the best she could for her Da and young sister. She took care of them and when money was short she did what she had to for a few more coins to add to their larder. She helped in the smithy as much as she could and took care of delivering special orders for her Da. She found with a pretty smile she would sometimes even get tips, not much, but everything helped. She was poor but she was bright. She quickly picked up some smithing skills from her father and taught herself to read and write, which was rare for the people from her part of town.

Belis-ar-Weil was neither particularly large nor particularly small; but it held a strategic location at the mouth of the Aumine river, which carried the riches of the Kingdom’s interior to the sea, where it was then sent to either Avis Inia or Avis Armois for final destinations. Due to this vast amount of traffic in lucrative goods, the town had more than its fair share of criminal element, intent on skimming some of the proceeds for themselves. While there were a number of gangs that operated around the town, all paid their respects to the notorious Five Points Brotherhood. The Brotherhood was a huge network of Thieves that had bases over nearly the entire Kingdom – at least, that was what was said. Based out of the Capitol, The Brotherhood controlled virtually all the illegal traffic flowing on the land route between Avis Inia and Tras Veniri, and had a heavy hand in distribution to points beyond inside of Athervon. No one of sane mind crossed The Brotherhood – their operatives and informants were everywhere, and they did not hesitate to deal with problems that threatened their profitable position.

Meav had never planned to join them. To the contrary, she had always steered clear of the young gangs of new recruits, and ignored their catcalls, offers, and sometimes threats as she made her deliveries in town – that she could deal with. What really made her pick up her pace was the way one of the older members – a street captain known as Dregs – looked at her. He didn’t seem to be looking at the pretty young woman with leering eyes and lustful sneers like the others. No, Dregs always seemed to be assessing whether she might be useful to him, whether she could be an asset to his operation. His cold gaze watched her every time she passed, but he never said a thing – just gave a slight touch to his cap in greeting after their eyes met, and then turned back to his business.

She choked back a laugh thinking about it now.

She managed to keep things on an even keel until her 17th year. That was the year her Da passed – walking home at night after the neighborhood innkeeper had rewarded him with a few pints for some emergency repairs to some of his stable equipment, he must’ve never seen the horseman, riding at a full gallop along the dark road. She ran out at the sounds and screams to see him lying in the mud, blood beginning to form a small pool around him. The rider never stopped, disappearing into the darkness.

After Da was in the ground, she assessed the situation, and realized something had to give. She didn't see herself or Vari swinging a hammer to make a living. She retched at the thought of some of the things women did for coin near the docks – she would die before that became her fate. Then the faces of the gang captains came to her – that cold gaze, assessing her. Perhaps she could be of use to them.

She had no idea how to initiate a conversation about this, but her mind was made up. She walked directly up to Dregs through the crowd of his young proteges, the blood that was pounding in her ears drowning out their infantile suggestions and insults.

“I need some work.” She blurted it out without even knowing it. She held her breath waiting for him to speak.

For a moment, he didn’t – just looked at her again with the same cold eyes.

Finally, he spoke. “B’out time. Let’s get ya to Fergasse, see what he has fer ya.” His voice was rough, thin, fitting his grizzled appearance perfectly. She realized it was the first time she had ever heard it.

Fergasse was the local Master of The Brotherhood, overseeing their operations in the town. If he had ever been a working thief, there was no way to tell now – he was a very fat man, who spent more time overseeing account books than picking pockets. But he was the ordained boss for The Brotherhood in town, and he did not need to worry about his girth – there were plenty of fit gang members who would take care of any of Fergasse’s problems.

Dregs brought her to a warehouse by the docks, one she had always been warned to stay away from by Ma & Da. She had to pass by room after room of intimidating looking men, and one even patted her down and felt her up making sure she didn’t have a weapon. Finally she was in Fergasse’s “office”, a large room filled with boxes, bags, sacks, barrels, crates, chests, and every manner of thing used to transport goods – as well as piles and piles of leather-bound books: ship’s journals, logs, account books, inventory scrolls. Fergasse supervised a small army of men moving things in and out while another army was copying and modifying books, writing so fast they were sweating. Fergasse’s eye flicked to her after Dreg was able to whisper something in his ear, and he spat something back she didn’t hear, before he turned back to conducting the mayhem in the room.

Dreg took her back to her place and told her how it would work. She would start just doing "special deliveries" and watching for the town guard who's eyes were easily distracted by a lithe darkhaired lass. It was easy work for the most part, and she was good at it – folks knew her Da was gone, and men circled her like buzzards if she gave them the chance, wanting to be there when her finances or her will finally broke.

But those tasks weren't enough to support her and Vari; soon, she was pestering Dreg for bigger opportunity. Happy with her performance, he graduated her to more advanced work for the guild.

She took to the tasks like a bird to the air. It excited her. It gave her freedom from the drudgery of the smithy. And the coins to be had (earned?) were greater than she had ever seen. Though just eighteen by then, she quickly became a rising star in the guild. Soon enough, Dregs re-introduced her to Fergasse at the Bosses’ request. Fergasse wanted to have a look at this new recruit who was making him so much money.

As Fergasse spoke about the impression she had made, and that if she played her cards right she could have a bright future in The Brotherhood, she noticed a young man lounging back on a pile of grain sacks, staring at her with dark, hooded eyes. She had seen that stare before, but she was not that person anymore. She ignored the look, her lip curling into a mild sneer to express her disinterest.

After the meeting was over, she asked Dregs about the man. “Eh? On the sacks? Ach, thas Dany – Fergasse’s boyo. What ye’want wit him? Oh ya? Fancy’s ya does he? Well, ya be careful lass – that boyo’s got more problems than the Emperor of Jhon, he does – and he’ll make’em your problems if ya let ‘im. Best steer clear of ‘im, stay focused on yer work. He’s trouble if you like ‘im – but he’s also trouble if ya don’t, if ya take my meaning. Don’t make Fergasse choose between yas.”

She learned from others that Dany was an addict – he smoked the seeds from the Jhonian mazak plant, which generated the dark circles around his eyes and the vacant stare.

She heeded Dregs advice and made every attempt to avoid Dany. But to her dismay, Dany had other ideas. Apparently infatuated by her, he began hanging out in her neighborhood, repeatedly offering to buy her dinner, drinks, or to join him in a harmless smoke. She rebuffed him – gently, carefully, always saying that she had something to get done for his father. More than once she had to signal Dregs to intercept them and provide an escape. She began to stay away from the house more – Vari had enough money and was getting old enough to take care of herself and most of the chores at home while Meav earned their keep.

She used the time to hone her skills every day and the exciting life on the edge became like a drug to her. What started as a tactic to avoid Dany soon became a need to spend more and more time finding ways to complete the jobs allotted to her in the most impressive way possible. Vari was left to fend for herself as Meav was gone more and more, but Meav told herself Vari would have to learn to manage the home at some point, which assuaged her guilt at not being home with her sister.

One night, exhausted from nearly two solid days of casing a new ship that had arrived, she came home and found Vari in her bed – with Dany lying next to her. From the look of it, they had apparently been celebrating for days – there were clothes and half-eaten meals everywhere. The bitter-sweet smell of mazak hit her nostrils, and she noticed several pipes were strewn about, full of the dark tarry residue the drug leaves.

Meav was incensed – Vari had ruined everything! Now what was she going to do?

She carefully stepped over Dany and shook Vari, whispering for her to get up. But the girl remained prone, motionless. She shook harder, finally pulling her hard and flipping her over – to recoil in horror as the wide, sightless eyes of her sister stared back at her from dark hooded sockets, the open lips tinged blue.

Meav stumbled back against the wall, her heart pounding. She couldn’t think. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

She started as Dany mumbled something and rolled over onto one arm, lifting himself up on his elbow. His heavy-lidded eyes revealed he was still in the throes of the drug. He reached out to Vari, touching the dead girls arm. A minute later, a giggle erupted from him.

“I told…told you. You got to…to work up to…to it. Can’t be doing what I do. Sil…silly…girl.”

He flopped down, finally noticing Meav. “Oh…hey. You’re here. That’s great – I really was interested in you more anyway.” His eyes fluttered closed again, and he resumed gently snoring.

That day Meav picked up her Da's hammer for the last time in doing so ended her time in the guild, and guildmaster's son's life.

She looked once more in the mirror. Meav was dead, and Darithe reborn from her ashes. A dark phoenix for sure. She gathered her meager belongs and wrapped herself in her father oversized cloak and started outside. She glanced once more back at the smithy and then was gone. She walked on leaving the past behind.

A new town then, one where she is unknown. A place to disappear. The further from The Brotherhood, the better. Getting on a ship was too dangerous – The Brotherhood controlled the river and sea trade, she would be seen and her suspicious departure noted, if not prevented altogether. No, she had to leave by land.

In the dark of night, she stole down the South Road, which followed the coast all the way to Avis Armois. Far from the Capitol, perhaps there she could shake pursuit long enough to come up with a more long-term plan. The Mire Queen now beckoned to her which seemed appropriate somehow having become mired herself. As she walked she whispered a soft prayer (to whom she did not know) for forgiveness. But in her heart she knew forgiveness was reserved for those who deserved it.

The best steel doesn't always shine the brightest. Her da had taught her that and she thought of him as she walked south towards Avis Armois, the greatcloak wrapped around her due to the cool of the morn. She could still faintly smell him on it and those smells were comforting, almost as if he still embraced her in the folds of that big cloak. She breathed them in and smiled thinking of him, the pungent smell of the corrosive oils he used to clean his tools were there, and the pleasant smokey aroma of the coals of his forge still clung to the threads, and the musky smell of sweat after a good hard day of honest... She stopped abruptly and bit her lower lip. She sighed, the past is written. She could not change it no matter how much she wished to. But the future is a blank page. And that she could write.

She spotted a small family going in the opposite direction approaching, a young man, his pretty wife and two small girls tugging at their parent's cloaks. She smiled and nodded to them as their paths crossed. Her mind calling back memories of her own youth and her sister Vari. She turned and caught back up to the family offering them most of her fruit. It wouldn't last long and she knew she couldn't eat it all before it went bad. She kept a stem of grapes for herself and waved to them as they continued their journey farther away from her. She returned to the path she had chosen and walked on alone.

<!-- |-
|''' Spy Mask ''' 
|''''' 0 '''''
|''''' Worn '''''
|-
|''' Cloak of the Hunter ''' 
|''''' 2 '''''
|''''' Worn ''''' --!>

<!-- '''Potion of Clairaudience''' ''(This potion empowers the creature drinking it to hear as the 3rd-level wizard spell of the same name. However, the potion can be used to hear even unknown areas within 30 yards. Its effects last for two turns. Spell Description: The clairaudience spell enables the wizard to concentrate upon some locale and hear in his mind any noise within a 60-foot radius of that point. Distance is not a factor, but the locale must be known--a place familiar to the spellcaster or an obvious one (such as behind a door, around a corner, in a copse of trees, etc.). Only sounds that are normally detectable by the wizard can be heard by use of this spell. Lead sheeting or magical protections prevent the operation of the spell, and the wizard has some indication that the spell is so blocked. The spell creates an invisible sensor, similar to that created by a crystal ball spell, that can be dispelled. The spell functions only on the wizard's current plane of existence. The material component of the spell is a small horn of at least 100 gp value.)'' --!>

<!-- '''Spy Mask''' ''(Allows one to use Change Self once per day. Necromantic aspect is not identified at this time.)'' --!>

Landsoftheblacksea:Main Page/players/danithe thorne

2022-05-16T21:05:09Z

Darithe: /* Basics */

[[ Landsoftheblacksea:Main_Page#Player_Characters | '''Return to the Main Page''']]

A woman running from her past and perhaps seeking redemption.

[[File:ZZDarithe2C.jpg | thumb]]

== Basics ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Character Name !! Player Name !! Race !! Class !! Alignment !! AC !! Experience !! Hit Points
|-
| Darithe Thorne (Meav Delte) || Desconocida || Human || Thief 4 || Chaotic Good || 7 (With Dex Adj) || 5035 / 10000 || 12
|-
|}

== Physical ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Age !! Height !! Weight !! Eye Colour !! Hair Colour
|-
| 19 || 5'6" || 110 lbs || Light Green || Black
|}

== Stats ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:left"
|-
| Strength || '''11''' || ''Wt. Allowance: 40#; Max Press: 115#; Open Doors: 6; Bend Bars: 2%''
|-
| Dexterity || '''17''' || ''+2 React. Adj; +2 Missile Att. Adj.; -3 Def. Adj.''
|-
| Constitution || '''12''' || ''Sys. Shock: 80%; Res. Surv: 85%''
|-
| Intelligence || '''14''' || ''#Lang: 4''
|-
| Wisdom || '''10''' ||
|-
| Charisma || '''16''' || ''Mx. Hench: 8; Loy. Base: +4; Reac. Adj.: +5''
|-
|}

+10% XP Bonus

== Saving Throws ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Paralyzation/Poison/Death Magic !! Rod, Staff or Wand !! Petrification or Plymorph !! Breath Weapon !! Spell
|-
|| 13 || 14 || 13 || 15 || 12
|}
== Weapon Proficiencies ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Dagger'''
|-
|'''Hand Crossbow'''
|-
|}
== Nonweapon Proficiencies ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Blacksmithing (11)'''
|-
|'''Cooking (14)'''
|-
|'''Healing (8)'''
|-
|'''Herbalism (12)'''
|-
|'''Swimming (11)'''
|-
|'''Tumbling (17)'''
|-
|}

== Thieves Abilities ==
{| class="wikitable" style="text-align:center"
! Skill !! Base !! Dex Bonus !! Level Bonuses !! No Armor Mod !! Magic Adj. !! ''' Total ''' !! Notes
|-
| '''Pick Pockets''' || 15% || 5% || 0% || 5% || 0% || ''' 25% ''' ||
|-
| '''Open Locks''' || 10% || 10% || 20% || 0% || 0% || ''' 40% ''' ||
|-
| '''Find/Remove Traps''' || 5% || 0% || 35% || 0% || 0% || ''' 40% ''' ||
|-
| '''Move Silently''' || 10% || 5% || 20% || 10% || 10% || ''' 55% ''' || Movement reduced to 1/3
|-
| '''Hide in Shadows''' || 5% || 5% || 30% || 5% || 10% || ''' 55% ''' ||
|-
| '''Detect Noise''' || 15% || 0% || 5% || 0% || 0% || ''' 20% ''' ||
|-
| '''Climb Walls''' || 60% || 0% || 5% || 10% || 0% || ''' 75% ''' ||
|-
| '''Read Languages''' || 0% || 0% || 5% || 0% || 0% || ''' 5% ''' ||
|}

Back Stab times 2.

== Encumbrance ==
{| class="wikitable"
|'''Unencumbered'''
|'''''0-40'''''
|-
|'''Light'''
|'''''41-58'''''
|-
|'''Moderate'''
|'''''59-76'''''
|-
|'''Heavy'''
|'''''77-96'''''
|-
|'''Severe'''
|'''''97-110'''''
|-
|}
== Equipment ==
{| class="wikitable"
! Item !! Weight !! Carried
|-
|''' Potion of Clairaudience ''' 
|''''' 0 '''''
|''''' Pouch '''''
|-
|''' Clothing '''
|''''' 3 '''''
|''''' Worn '''''
|-
|''' Leather Armor '''
|''''' 15 '''''
|''''' Worn '''''
|-
|''' Backpack '''
|''''' 2 '''''
|''''' Worn '''''
|-
|''' Small pouch '''
|''''' 0.5 '''''
|''''' Worn '''''
|-
|''' 9 gold coins '''
|''''' 0 '''''
|''''' Pouch '''''
|-
|''' Hand Crossbow '''
|''''' 3 '''''
|''''' Belt '''''
|-
|''' Dagger (x2) '''
|''''' 2 '''''
|''''' Belt '''''
|-
|''' Dwarven made Dagger (x2) '''
|''''' 2 '''''
|''''' Belt '''''
|-
|''' Quiver '''
|''''' 1 '''''
|''''' Belt '''''
|-
|''' Quarrels (20) '''
|''''' 1 '''''
|''''' Belt '''''
|-
|''' Hooded Lantern '''
|''''' 2 '''''
|''''' Backpack '''''
|-
|''' 3 Flasks of Lantern Oil '''
|''''' 3 '''''
|''''' Backpack '''''
|-
|''' Flint & Steel '''
|''''' 0 '''''
|''''' Backpack '''''
|-
|''' Dry Rations (3 days) '''
|''''' 2 '''''
|''''' Backpack '''''
|-
|''' Waterskin '''
|''''' 1 '''''
|''''' Backpack '''''
|-
|''' Sewing Needle '''
|''''' 0 '''''
|''''' Backpack '''''
|-
|''' Thieves Picks '''
|''''' 1 '''''
|''''' Backpack '''''
|-
|''' Vial of Perfume '''
|''''' 0 '''''
|''''' Backpack '''''
|-
|''' Whetstone '''
|''''' 1 '''''
|''''' Backpack '''''
|-
|''' Fine Quality Deck of Playing Cards '''
|''''' 0 '''''
|''''' Backpack '''''
|-
|''' (Violet Total) '''
|''''' 15 '''''
|''''' '''''
|-
|''' Total w/ Backpack ''' 
|''''' 39.5 '''''
|''' Light '''
|-
|''' Total w/o Backpack ''' 
|''''' 24.5 '''''
|''' Unencumbered '''
|-
|}



== Equipment Stored in Rooms ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Numerous Changes of Clothing'''
|-
|'''Set of Obsidian Dice With Bone Pips'''
|-
|'''Hooded Fine Fur Cloak'''
|-
|'''Fine Women's Clothing from Veniri'''
|-
|'''Urn of Saakh Oil'''
|-
|'''10 gold coins stored in Fariya's locked chest'''
|-
|'''20 gold in letters of credit stored in Fariya's locked chest'''
|-
|'''100 gold worth of gems stored in Fariya's locked chest'''
|-
|}

== Languages ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Common'''
|-
|'''Vox Mercanti'''
|-
|'''Thieves' Cant'''
|-
|}

== Background ==
[[File:ZZDarithe2L.jpg]]

'''Birthplace''': Belies-ar-Weil

'''Parents''': Both deceased

'''Sibling''': Vari (younger sister) deceased

She stared at her reflection in the mirror for a long time. The red hair would take some getting used to. The shorn locks of her previously long tresses less so, as that frequently just got in the way of her skills. No sign of her Da's dark hair now, the only part she truly inherited from him. Just as the freckles across her pale features came from her mother. Her hands were near as red as the hair stained from the dye. Somehow that seemed apt. She scrubbed the dye from her hands in the washbasin. At least that stain could be washed away...

Darithe Thorne was her name now. Once she had been Meav Delte, the daughter of a blacksmith in the town of Belies-ar-Weil, located mid-way along the coast of Athervon between Avis Inia, the seat of the Kingdom, to the North, and Avis Armois, the oldest and most far-flung of the Kingdom’s major cities, to the South. Her father was as dumb as the anvil he pounded everyday, but he was kind and had a ready smile, and was gentle with his young daughters Meav and her sister Vari. He did his best to support his two daughters on what little income he could make from shoeing horses and hammering out crude nails to build the rickety buildings in this poor section of town.

Their mother passed from a fever when Vari was five. Meav was three years older and did the best she could for her Da and young sister. She took care of them and when money was short she did what she had to for a few more coins to add to their larder. She helped in the smithy as much as she could and took care of delivering special orders for her Da. She found with a pretty smile she would sometimes even get tips, not much, but everything helped. She was poor but she was bright. She quickly picked up some smithing skills from her father and taught herself to read and write, which was rare for the people from her part of town.

Belis-ar-Weil was neither particularly large nor particularly small; but it held a strategic location at the mouth of the Aumine river, which carried the riches of the Kingdom’s interior to the sea, where it was then sent to either Avis Inia or Avis Armois for final destinations. Due to this vast amount of traffic in lucrative goods, the town had more than its fair share of criminal element, intent on skimming some of the proceeds for themselves. While there were a number of gangs that operated around the town, all paid their respects to the notorious Five Points Brotherhood. The Brotherhood was a huge network of Thieves that had bases over nearly the entire Kingdom – at least, that was what was said. Based out of the Capitol, The Brotherhood controlled virtually all the illegal traffic flowing on the land route between Avis Inia and Tras Veniri, and had a heavy hand in distribution to points beyond inside of Athervon. No one of sane mind crossed The Brotherhood – their operatives and informants were everywhere, and they did not hesitate to deal with problems that threatened their profitable position.

Meav had never planned to join them. To the contrary, she had always steered clear of the young gangs of new recruits, and ignored their catcalls, offers, and sometimes threats as she made her deliveries in town – that she could deal with. What really made her pick up her pace was the way one of the older members – a street captain known as Dregs – looked at her. He didn’t seem to be looking at the pretty young woman with leering eyes and lustful sneers like the others. No, Dregs always seemed to be assessing whether she might be useful to him, whether she could be an asset to his operation. His cold gaze watched her every time she passed, but he never said a thing – just gave a slight touch to his cap in greeting after their eyes met, and then turned back to his business.

She choked back a laugh thinking about it now.

She managed to keep things on an even keel until her 17th year. That was the year her Da passed – walking home at night after the neighborhood innkeeper had rewarded him with a few pints for some emergency repairs to some of his stable equipment, he must’ve never seen the horseman, riding at a full gallop along the dark road. She ran out at the sounds and screams to see him lying in the mud, blood beginning to form a small pool around him. The rider never stopped, disappearing into the darkness.

After Da was in the ground, she assessed the situation, and realized something had to give. She didn't see herself or Vari swinging a hammer to make a living. She retched at the thought of some of the things women did for coin near the docks – she would die before that became her fate. Then the faces of the gang captains came to her – that cold gaze, assessing her. Perhaps she could be of use to them.

She had no idea how to initiate a conversation about this, but her mind was made up. She walked directly up to Dregs through the crowd of his young proteges, the blood that was pounding in her ears drowning out their infantile suggestions and insults.

“I need some work.” She blurted it out without even knowing it. She held her breath waiting for him to speak.

For a moment, he didn’t – just looked at her again with the same cold eyes.

Finally, he spoke. “B’out time. Let’s get ya to Fergasse, see what he has fer ya.” His voice was rough, thin, fitting his grizzled appearance perfectly. She realized it was the first time she had ever heard it.

Fergasse was the local Master of The Brotherhood, overseeing their operations in the town. If he had ever been a working thief, there was no way to tell now – he was a very fat man, who spent more time overseeing account books than picking pockets. But he was the ordained boss for The Brotherhood in town, and he did not need to worry about his girth – there were plenty of fit gang members who would take care of any of Fergasse’s problems.

Dregs brought her to a warehouse by the docks, one she had always been warned to stay away from by Ma & Da. She had to pass by room after room of intimidating looking men, and one even patted her down and felt her up making sure she didn’t have a weapon. Finally she was in Fergasse’s “office”, a large room filled with boxes, bags, sacks, barrels, crates, chests, and every manner of thing used to transport goods – as well as piles and piles of leather-bound books: ship’s journals, logs, account books, inventory scrolls. Fergasse supervised a small army of men moving things in and out while another army was copying and modifying books, writing so fast they were sweating. Fergasse’s eye flicked to her after Dreg was able to whisper something in his ear, and he spat something back she didn’t hear, before he turned back to conducting the mayhem in the room.

Dreg took her back to her place and told her how it would work. She would start just doing "special deliveries" and watching for the town guard who's eyes were easily distracted by a lithe darkhaired lass. It was easy work for the most part, and she was good at it – folks knew her Da was gone, and men circled her like buzzards if she gave them the chance, wanting to be there when her finances or her will finally broke.

But those tasks weren't enough to support her and Vari; soon, she was pestering Dreg for bigger opportunity. Happy with her performance, he graduated her to more advanced work for the guild.

She took to the tasks like a bird to the air. It excited her. It gave her freedom from the drudgery of the smithy. And the coins to be had (earned?) were greater than she had ever seen. Though just eighteen by then, she quickly became a rising star in the guild. Soon enough, Dregs re-introduced her to Fergasse at the Bosses’ request. Fergasse wanted to have a look at this new recruit who was making him so much money.

As Fergasse spoke about the impression she had made, and that if she played her cards right she could have a bright future in The Brotherhood, she noticed a young man lounging back on a pile of grain sacks, staring at her with dark, hooded eyes. She had seen that stare before, but she was not that person anymore. She ignored the look, her lip curling into a mild sneer to express her disinterest.

After the meeting was over, she asked Dregs about the man. “Eh? On the sacks? Ach, thas Dany – Fergasse’s boyo. What ye’want wit him? Oh ya? Fancy’s ya does he? Well, ya be careful lass – that boyo’s got more problems than the Emperor of Jhon, he does – and he’ll make’em your problems if ya let ‘im. Best steer clear of ‘im, stay focused on yer work. He’s trouble if you like ‘im – but he’s also trouble if ya don’t, if ya take my meaning. Don’t make Fergasse choose between yas.”

She learned from others that Dany was an addict – he smoked the seeds from the Jhonian mazak plant, which generated the dark circles around his eyes and the vacant stare.

She heeded Dregs advice and made every attempt to avoid Dany. But to her dismay, Dany had other ideas. Apparently infatuated by her, he began hanging out in her neighborhood, repeatedly offering to buy her dinner, drinks, or to join him in a harmless smoke. She rebuffed him – gently, carefully, always saying that she had something to get done for his father. More than once she had to signal Dregs to intercept them and provide an escape. She began to stay away from the house more – Vari had enough money and was getting old enough to take care of herself and most of the chores at home while Meav earned their keep.

She used the time to hone her skills every day and the exciting life on the edge became like a drug to her. What started as a tactic to avoid Dany soon became a need to spend more and more time finding ways to complete the jobs allotted to her in the most impressive way possible. Vari was left to fend for herself as Meav was gone more and more, but Meav told herself Vari would have to learn to manage the home at some point, which assuaged her guilt at not being home with her sister.

One night, exhausted from nearly two solid days of casing a new ship that had arrived, she came home and found Vari in her bed – with Dany lying next to her. From the look of it, they had apparently been celebrating for days – there were clothes and half-eaten meals everywhere. The bitter-sweet smell of mazak hit her nostrils, and she noticed several pipes were strewn about, full of the dark tarry residue the drug leaves.

Meav was incensed – Vari had ruined everything! Now what was she going to do?

She carefully stepped over Dany and shook Vari, whispering for her to get up. But the girl remained prone, motionless. She shook harder, finally pulling her hard and flipping her over – to recoil in horror as the wide, sightless eyes of her sister stared back at her from dark hooded sockets, the open lips tinged blue.

Meav stumbled back against the wall, her heart pounding. She couldn’t think. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

She started as Dany mumbled something and rolled over onto one arm, lifting himself up on his elbow. His heavy-lidded eyes revealed he was still in the throes of the drug. He reached out to Vari, touching the dead girls arm. A minute later, a giggle erupted from him.

“I told…told you. You got to…to work up to…to it. Can’t be doing what I do. Sil…silly…girl.”

He flopped down, finally noticing Meav. “Oh…hey. You’re here. That’s great – I really was interested in you more anyway.” His eyes fluttered closed again, and he resumed gently snoring.

That day Meav picked up her Da's hammer for the last time in doing so ended her time in the guild, and guildmaster's son's life.

She looked once more in the mirror. Meav was dead, and Darithe reborn from her ashes. A dark phoenix for sure. She gathered her meager belongs and wrapped herself in her father oversized cloak and started outside. She glanced once more back at the smithy and then was gone. She walked on leaving the past behind.

A new town then, one where she is unknown. A place to disappear. The further from The Brotherhood, the better. Getting on a ship was too dangerous – The Brotherhood controlled the river and sea trade, she would be seen and her suspicious departure noted, if not prevented altogether. No, she had to leave by land.

In the dark of night, she stole down the South Road, which followed the coast all the way to Avis Armois. Far from the Capitol, perhaps there she could shake pursuit long enough to come up with a more long-term plan. The Mire Queen now beckoned to her which seemed appropriate somehow having become mired herself. As she walked she whispered a soft prayer (to whom she did not know) for forgiveness. But in her heart she knew forgiveness was reserved for those who deserved it.

The best steel doesn't always shine the brightest. Her da had taught her that and she thought of him as she walked south towards Avis Armois, the greatcloak wrapped around her due to the cool of the morn. She could still faintly smell him on it and those smells were comforting, almost as if he still embraced her in the folds of that big cloak. She breathed them in and smiled thinking of him, the pungent smell of the corrosive oils he used to clean his tools were there, and the pleasant smokey aroma of the coals of his forge still clung to the threads, and the musky smell of sweat after a good hard day of honest... She stopped abruptly and bit her lower lip. She sighed, the past is written. She could not change it no matter how much she wished to. But the future is a blank page. And that she could write.

She spotted a small family going in the opposite direction approaching, a young man, his pretty wife and two small girls tugging at their parent's cloaks. She smiled and nodded to them as their paths crossed. Her mind calling back memories of her own youth and her sister Vari. She turned and caught back up to the family offering them most of her fruit. It wouldn't last long and she knew she couldn't eat it all before it went bad. She kept a stem of grapes for herself and waved to them as they continued their journey farther away from her. She returned to the path she had chosen and walked on alone.

<!-- |-
|''' Spy Mask ''' 
|''''' 0 '''''
|''''' Worn '''''
|-
|''' Cloak of the Hunter ''' 
|''''' 2 '''''
|''''' Worn ''''' --!>

<!-- '''Potion of Clairaudience''' ''(This potion empowers the creature drinking it to hear as the 3rd-level wizard spell of the same name. However, the potion can be used to hear even unknown areas within 30 yards. Its effects last for two turns. Spell Description: The clairaudience spell enables the wizard to concentrate upon some locale and hear in his mind any noise within a 60-foot radius of that point. Distance is not a factor, but the locale must be known--a place familiar to the spellcaster or an obvious one (such as behind a door, around a corner, in a copse of trees, etc.). Only sounds that are normally detectable by the wizard can be heard by use of this spell. Lead sheeting or magical protections prevent the operation of the spell, and the wizard has some indication that the spell is so blocked. The spell creates an invisible sensor, similar to that created by a crystal ball spell, that can be dispelled. The spell functions only on the wizard's current plane of existence. The material component of the spell is a small horn of at least 100 gp value.)'' --!>

<!-- '''Spy Mask''' ''(Allows one to use Change Self once per day. Necromantic aspect is not identified at this time.)'' --!>

Landsoftheblacksea:Main Page/players/danithe thorne

2021-10-31T16:57:43Z

Darithe: /* Thieves Abilities */

[[ Landsoftheblacksea:Main_Page#Player_Characters | '''Return to the Main Page''']]

A woman running from her past and perhaps seeking redemption.

[[File:ZZDarithe2C.jpg | thumb]]

== Basics ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Character Name !! Player Name !! Race !! Class !! Alignment !! AC !! Experience !! Hit Points
|-
| Darithe Thorne (Meav Delte) || Desconocida || Human || Thief 3 || Chaotic Good || 7 (With Dex Adj) || 1250|| 11
|-
|}

== Physical ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Age !! Height !! Weight !! Eye Colour !! Hair Colour
|-
| 19 || 5'6" || 110 lbs || Light Green || Black
|}

== Stats ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:left"
|-
| Strength || '''11''' || ''Wt. Allowance: 40#; Max Press: 115#; Open Doors: 6; Bend Bars: 2%''
|-
| Dexterity || '''17''' || ''+2 React. Adj; +2 Missile Att. Adj.; -3 Def. Adj.''
|-
| Constitution || '''12''' || ''Sys. Shock: 80%; Res. Surv: 85%''
|-
| Intelligence || '''14''' || ''#Lang: 4''
|-
| Wisdom || '''10''' ||
|-
| Charisma || '''16''' || ''Mx. Hench: 8; Loy. Base: +4; Reac. Adj.: +5''
|-
|}

+10% XP Bonus

== Saving Throws ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Paralyzation/Poison/Death Magic !! Rod, Staff or Wand !! Petrification or Plymorph !! Breath Weapon !! Spell
|-
|| 13 || 14 || 13 || 15 || 12
|}
== Weapon Proficiencies ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Dagger'''
|-
|'''Hand Crossbow'''
|-
|}
== Nonweapon Proficiencies ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Blacksmithing (11)'''
|-
|'''Cooking (14)'''
|-
|'''Healing (8)'''
|-
|'''Herbalism (12)'''
|-
|'''Swimming (11)'''
|-
|'''Tumbling (17)'''
|-
|}

== Thieves Abilities ==
{| class="wikitable"
! !! style="text-align:center;" | Base !! style="text-align:center;" | Dex Bonus !! style="text-align:center;" | Armor Mod !! style="text-align:center;" | '''Total''' !! style="text-align:center;" | Notes
|-
| '''Pick Pockets''' || style="text-align:center;" | 15% || style="text-align:center;" | +5% || style="text-align:center;" | - || style="text-align:center;" | '''20%''' ||
|-
| '''Open Locks''' || style="text-align:center;" | 30% || style="text-align:center;" | +10% || style="text-align:center;" | - || style="text-align:center;" | '''40%''' ||
|-
| '''Find/Remove Traps''' || style="text-align:center;" | 40% || style="text-align:center;" | - || style="text-align:center;" | - || style="text-align:center;" | '''40%''' ||
|-
| '''Move Silently''' || style="text-align:center;" | 30% || style="text-align:center;" | +5% || style="text-align:center;" | - || style="text-align:center;" | '''40%''' || Movement reduced to 1/3
|-
| '''Hide in Shadows''' || style="text-align:center;" | 35% || style="text-align:center;" | +5% || style="text-align:center;" | - || style="text-align:center;" | '''40%''' ||
|-
| '''Detect Noise''' || style="text-align:center;" | 20% || style="text-align:center;" | - || style="text-align:center;" | - || style="text-align:center;" | '''20%''' ||
|-
| '''Climb Walls''' || style="text-align:center;" | 65% || style="text-align:center;" | - || style="text-align:center;" | - || style="text-align:center;" | '''65%''' ||
|-
| '''Read Languages''' || style="text-align:center;" | 5% || style="text-align:center;" | - || style="text-align:center;" | - || style="text-align:center;" | '''5%''' ||
|-
|}

== Encumbrance ==
{| class="wikitable"
|'''Unencumbered'''
|'''''0-40'''''
|-
|'''Light'''
|'''''41-58'''''
|-
|'''Moderate'''
|'''''59-76'''''
|-
|'''Heavy'''
|'''''77-96'''''
|-
|'''Severe'''
|'''''97-110'''''
|-
|}
== Equipment ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
| '''Potion of Clairaudience''' ''(This potion empowers the creature drinking it to hear as the 3rd-level wizard spell of the same name. However, the potion can be used to hear even unknown areas within 30 yards. Its effects last for two turns. Spell Description: The clairaudience spell enables the wizard to concentrate upon some locale and hear in his mind any noise within a 60-foot radius of that point. Distance is not a factor, but the locale must be known--a place familiar to the spellcaster or an obvious one (such as behind a door, around a corner, in a copse of trees, etc.). Only sounds that are normally detectable by the wizard can be heard by use of this spell. Lead sheeting or magical protections prevent the operation of the spell, and the wizard has some indication that the spell is so blocked. The spell creates an invisible sensor, similar to that created by a crystal ball spell, that can be dispelled. The spell functions only on the wizard's current plane of existence. The material component of the spell is a small horn of at least 100 gp value.)''
|'''''*'''''
|-
| '''Spy Mask''' ''(Allows one to use Change Self once per day. Necromantic aspect is not identified at this time.)''
|'''''*'''''
|-
| '''Cloak of the Hunter''' ''(+10% Hide in Shadows; +10% move silently. Once per 24 hours, allows wearer to Speak with Animals per the Priest spell, as if cast by a 5th Level Priest (duration 10 rounds). Only one kind of animal can be involved per usage (e.g., wearer can talk to 10 different wolves in one usage for 10 rounds, but cannot talk to a wolf for 5 rounds and then a bear for the second 5 rounds)'' 
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Clothing'''
|'''''3 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Leather Armor'''
|'''15 lbs'''
|-
|'''Backpack'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Small pouch'''
|'''''0.5 lbs'''''
|-
|'''9 gold coins'''
|'''''*'''''
|-
|'''Hand Crossbow'''
|'''''3 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Dagger (x2)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Dwarven made Dagger (x2)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Quiver'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Quarrels (20)'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Hooded Lantern'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''3 Flasks of Lantern Oil'''
|'''''3 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Flint & Steel'''
|'''''*'''''
|-
|'''Dry Rations (3 days)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Waterskin'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Sewing Needle'''
|'''''*'''''
|-
|'''Thieves Picks'''
|'''''1 lb'''''
|-
|'''Vial of Perfume'''
|'''''*'''''
|-
|'''Whetstone'''
|'''''1 lb'''''
|-
|'''Fine Quality Deck of Playing Cards'''
|'''''*'''''
|-
|'''Total'''
|'''''44 lbs'''''
|-
|}

== Equipment Stored in Rooms ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Numerous Changes of Clothing'''
|-
|'''Set of Obsidian Dice With Bone Pips'''
|-
|'''Hooded Fine Fur Cloak'''
|-
|'''Fine Women's Clothing from Veniri'''
|-
|'''Urn of Saakh Oil'''
|-
|'''10 gold coins stored in Fariya's locked chest'''
|-
|'''20 gold in letters of credit stored in Fariya's locked chest'''
|-
|'''100 gold worth of gems stored in Fariya's locked chest'''
|-
|}

== Languages ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Common'''
|-
|'''Vox Mercanti'''
|-
|'''Thieves' Cant'''
|-
|}

== Background ==
[[File:ZZDarithe2L.jpg]]

'''Birthplace''': Belies-ar-Weil

'''Parents''': Both deceased

'''Sibling''': Vari (younger sister) deceased

She stared at her reflection in the mirror for a long time. The red hair would take some getting used to. The shorn locks of her previously long tresses less so, as that frequently just got in the way of her skills. No sign of her Da's dark hair now, the only part she truly inherited from him. Just as the freckles across her pale features came from her mother. Her hands were near as red as the hair stained from the dye. Somehow that seemed apt. She scrubbed the dye from her hands in the washbasin. At least that stain could be washed away...

Darithe Thorne was her name now. Once she had been Meav Delte, the daughter of a blacksmith in the town of Belies-ar-Weil, located mid-way along the coast of Athervon between Avis Inia, the seat of the Kingdom, to the North, and Avis Armois, the oldest and most far-flung of the Kingdom’s major cities, to the South. Her father was as dumb as the anvil he pounded everyday, but he was kind and had a ready smile, and was gentle with his young daughters Meav and her sister Vari. He did his best to support his two daughters on what little income he could make from shoeing horses and hammering out crude nails to build the rickety buildings in this poor section of town.

Their mother passed from a fever when Vari was five. Meav was three years older and did the best she could for her Da and young sister. She took care of them and when money was short she did what she had to for a few more coins to add to their larder. She helped in the smithy as much as she could and took care of delivering special orders for her Da. She found with a pretty smile she would sometimes even get tips, not much, but everything helped. She was poor but she was bright. She quickly picked up some smithing skills from her father and taught herself to read and write, which was rare for the people from her part of town.

Belis-ar-Weil was neither particularly large nor particularly small; but it held a strategic location at the mouth of the Aumine river, which carried the riches of the Kingdom’s interior to the sea, where it was then sent to either Avis Inia or Avis Armois for final destinations. Due to this vast amount of traffic in lucrative goods, the town had more than its fair share of criminal element, intent on skimming some of the proceeds for themselves. While there were a number of gangs that operated around the town, all paid their respects to the notorious Five Points Brotherhood. The Brotherhood was a huge network of Thieves that had bases over nearly the entire Kingdom – at least, that was what was said. Based out of the Capitol, The Brotherhood controlled virtually all the illegal traffic flowing on the land route between Avis Inia and Tras Veniri, and had a heavy hand in distribution to points beyond inside of Athervon. No one of sane mind crossed The Brotherhood – their operatives and informants were everywhere, and they did not hesitate to deal with problems that threatened their profitable position.

Meav had never planned to join them. To the contrary, she had always steered clear of the young gangs of new recruits, and ignored their catcalls, offers, and sometimes threats as she made her deliveries in town – that she could deal with. What really made her pick up her pace was the way one of the older members – a street captain known as Dregs – looked at her. He didn’t seem to be looking at the pretty young woman with leering eyes and lustful sneers like the others. No, Dregs always seemed to be assessing whether she might be useful to him, whether she could be an asset to his operation. His cold gaze watched her every time she passed, but he never said a thing – just gave a slight touch to his cap in greeting after their eyes met, and then turned back to his business.

She choked back a laugh thinking about it now.

She managed to keep things on an even keel until her 17th year. That was the year her Da passed – walking home at night after the neighborhood innkeeper had rewarded him with a few pints for some emergency repairs to some of his stable equipment, he must’ve never seen the horseman, riding at a full gallop along the dark road. She ran out at the sounds and screams to see him lying in the mud, blood beginning to form a small pool around him. The rider never stopped, disappearing into the darkness.

After Da was in the ground, she assessed the situation, and realized something had to give. She didn't see herself or Vari swinging a hammer to make a living. She retched at the thought of some of the things women did for coin near the docks – she would die before that became her fate. Then the faces of the gang captains came to her – that cold gaze, assessing her. Perhaps she could be of use to them.

She had no idea how to initiate a conversation about this, but her mind was made up. She walked directly up to Dregs through the crowd of his young proteges, the blood that was pounding in her ears drowning out their infantile suggestions and insults.

“I need some work.” She blurted it out without even knowing it. She held her breath waiting for him to speak.

For a moment, he didn’t – just looked at her again with the same cold eyes.

Finally, he spoke. “B’out time. Let’s get ya to Fergasse, see what he has fer ya.” His voice was rough, thin, fitting his grizzled appearance perfectly. She realized it was the first time she had ever heard it.

Fergasse was the local Master of The Brotherhood, overseeing their operations in the town. If he had ever been a working thief, there was no way to tell now – he was a very fat man, who spent more time overseeing account books than picking pockets. But he was the ordained boss for The Brotherhood in town, and he did not need to worry about his girth – there were plenty of fit gang members who would take care of any of Fergasse’s problems.

Dregs brought her to a warehouse by the docks, one she had always been warned to stay away from by Ma & Da. She had to pass by room after room of intimidating looking men, and one even patted her down and felt her up making sure she didn’t have a weapon. Finally she was in Fergasse’s “office”, a large room filled with boxes, bags, sacks, barrels, crates, chests, and every manner of thing used to transport goods – as well as piles and piles of leather-bound books: ship’s journals, logs, account books, inventory scrolls. Fergasse supervised a small army of men moving things in and out while another army was copying and modifying books, writing so fast they were sweating. Fergasse’s eye flicked to her after Dreg was able to whisper something in his ear, and he spat something back she didn’t hear, before he turned back to conducting the mayhem in the room.

Dreg took her back to her place and told her how it would work. She would start just doing "special deliveries" and watching for the town guard who's eyes were easily distracted by a lithe darkhaired lass. It was easy work for the most part, and she was good at it – folks knew her Da was gone, and men circled her like buzzards if she gave them the chance, wanting to be there when her finances or her will finally broke.

But those tasks weren't enough to support her and Vari; soon, she was pestering Dreg for bigger opportunity. Happy with her performance, he graduated her to more advanced work for the guild.

She took to the tasks like a bird to the air. It excited her. It gave her freedom from the drudgery of the smithy. And the coins to be had (earned?) were greater than she had ever seen. Though just eighteen by then, she quickly became a rising star in the guild. Soon enough, Dregs re-introduced her to Fergasse at the Bosses’ request. Fergasse wanted to have a look at this new recruit who was making him so much money.

As Fergasse spoke about the impression she had made, and that if she played her cards right she could have a bright future in The Brotherhood, she noticed a young man lounging back on a pile of grain sacks, staring at her with dark, hooded eyes. She had seen that stare before, but she was not that person anymore. She ignored the look, her lip curling into a mild sneer to express her disinterest.

After the meeting was over, she asked Dregs about the man. “Eh? On the sacks? Ach, thas Dany – Fergasse’s boyo. What ye’want wit him? Oh ya? Fancy’s ya does he? Well, ya be careful lass – that boyo’s got more problems than the Emperor of Jhon, he does – and he’ll make’em your problems if ya let ‘im. Best steer clear of ‘im, stay focused on yer work. He’s trouble if you like ‘im – but he’s also trouble if ya don’t, if ya take my meaning. Don’t make Fergasse choose between yas.”

She learned from others that Dany was an addict – he smoked the seeds from the Jhonian mazak plant, which generated the dark circles around his eyes and the vacant stare.

She heeded Dregs advice and made every attempt to avoid Dany. But to her dismay, Dany had other ideas. Apparently infatuated by her, he began hanging out in her neighborhood, repeatedly offering to buy her dinner, drinks, or to join him in a harmless smoke. She rebuffed him – gently, carefully, always saying that she had something to get done for his father. More than once she had to signal Dregs to intercept them and provide an escape. She began to stay away from the house more – Vari had enough money and was getting old enough to take care of herself and most of the chores at home while Meav earned their keep.

She used the time to hone her skills every day and the exciting life on the edge became like a drug to her. What started as a tactic to avoid Dany soon became a need to spend more and more time finding ways to complete the jobs allotted to her in the most impressive way possible. Vari was left to fend for herself as Meav was gone more and more, but Meav told herself Vari would have to learn to manage the home at some point, which assuaged her guilt at not being home with her sister.

One night, exhausted from nearly two solid days of casing a new ship that had arrived, she came home and found Vari in her bed – with Dany lying next to her. From the look of it, they had apparently been celebrating for days – there were clothes and half-eaten meals everywhere. The bitter-sweet smell of mazak hit her nostrils, and she noticed several pipes were strewn about, full of the dark tarry residue the drug leaves.

Meav was incensed – Vari had ruined everything! Now what was she going to do?

She carefully stepped over Dany and shook Vari, whispering for her to get up. But the girl remained prone, motionless. She shook harder, finally pulling her hard and flipping her over – to recoil in horror as the wide, sightless eyes of her sister stared back at her from dark hooded sockets, the open lips tinged blue.

Meav stumbled back against the wall, her heart pounding. She couldn’t think. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

She started as Dany mumbled something and rolled over onto one arm, lifting himself up on his elbow. His heavy-lidded eyes revealed he was still in the throes of the drug. He reached out to Vari, touching the dead girls arm. A minute later, a giggle erupted from him.

“I told…told you. You got to…to work up to…to it. Can’t be doing what I do. Sil…silly…girl.”

He flopped down, finally noticing Meav. “Oh…hey. You’re here. That’s great – I really was interested in you more anyway.” His eyes fluttered closed again, and he resumed gently snoring.

That day Meav picked up her Da's hammer for the last time in doing so ended her time in the guild, and guildmaster's son's life.

She looked once more in the mirror. Meav was dead, and Darithe reborn from her ashes. A dark phoenix for sure. She gathered her meager belongs and wrapped herself in her father oversized cloak and started outside. She glanced once more back at the smithy and then was gone. She walked on leaving the past behind.

A new town then, one where she is unknown. A place to disappear. The further from The Brotherhood, the better. Getting on a ship was too dangerous – The Brotherhood controlled the river and sea trade, she would be seen and her suspicious departure noted, if not prevented altogether. No, she had to leave by land.

In the dark of night, she stole down the South Road, which followed the coast all the way to Avis Armois. Far from the Capitol, perhaps there she could shake pursuit long enough to come up with a more long-term plan. The Mire Queen now beckoned to her which seemed appropriate somehow having become mired herself. As she walked she whispered a soft prayer (to whom she did not know) for forgiveness. But in her heart she knew forgiveness was reserved for those who deserved it.

The best steel doesn't always shine the brightest. Her da had taught her that and she thought of him as she walked south towards Avis Armois, the greatcloak wrapped around her due to the cool of the morn. She could still faintly smell him on it and those smells were comforting, almost as if he still embraced her in the folds of that big cloak. She breathed them in and smiled thinking of him, the pungent smell of the corrosive oils he used to clean his tools were there, and the pleasant smokey aroma of the coals of his forge still clung to the threads, and the musky smell of sweat after a good hard day of honest... She stopped abruptly and bit her lower lip. She sighed, the past is written. She could not change it no matter how much she wished to. But the future is a blank page. And that she could write.

She spotted a small family going in the opposite direction approaching, a young man, his pretty wife and two small girls tugging at their parent's cloaks. She smiled and nodded to them as their paths crossed. Her mind calling back memories of her own youth and her sister Vari. She turned and caught back up to the family offering them most of her fruit. It wouldn't last long and she knew she couldn't eat it all before it went bad. She kept a stem of grapes for herself and waved to them as they continued their journey farther away from her. She returned to the path she had chosen and walked on alone.

Landsoftheblacksea:Main Page/players/danithe thorne

2021-10-31T16:51:22Z

Darithe: /* Thieves Abilities */

[[ Landsoftheblacksea:Main_Page#Player_Characters | '''Return to the Main Page''']]

A woman running from her past and perhaps seeking redemption.

[[File:ZZDarithe2C.jpg | thumb]]

== Basics ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Character Name !! Player Name !! Race !! Class !! Alignment !! AC !! Experience !! Hit Points
|-
| Darithe Thorne (Meav Delte) || Desconocida || Human || Thief 3 || Chaotic Good || 7 (With Dex Adj) || 1250|| 11
|-
|}

== Physical ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Age !! Height !! Weight !! Eye Colour !! Hair Colour
|-
| 19 || 5'6" || 110 lbs || Light Green || Black
|}

== Stats ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:left"
|-
| Strength || '''11''' || ''Wt. Allowance: 40#; Max Press: 115#; Open Doors: 6; Bend Bars: 2%''
|-
| Dexterity || '''17''' || ''+2 React. Adj; +2 Missile Att. Adj.; -3 Def. Adj.''
|-
| Constitution || '''12''' || ''Sys. Shock: 80%; Res. Surv: 85%''
|-
| Intelligence || '''14''' || ''#Lang: 4''
|-
| Wisdom || '''10''' ||
|-
| Charisma || '''16''' || ''Mx. Hench: 8; Loy. Base: +4; Reac. Adj.: +5''
|-
|}

+10% XP Bonus

== Saving Throws ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Paralyzation/Poison/Death Magic !! Rod, Staff or Wand !! Petrification or Plymorph !! Breath Weapon !! Spell
|-
|| 13 || 14 || 13 || 15 || 12
|}
== Weapon Proficiencies ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Dagger'''
|-
|'''Hand Crossbow'''
|-
|}
== Nonweapon Proficiencies ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Blacksmithing (11)'''
|-
|'''Cooking (14)'''
|-
|'''Healing (8)'''
|-
|'''Herbalism (12)'''
|-
|'''Swimming (11)'''
|-
|'''Tumbling (17)'''
|-
|}

== Thieves Abilities ==
{| class="wikitable"
! !! style="text-align:center;" | Base !! style="text-align:center;" | Dex Bonus !! style="text-align:center;" | Armor Mod !! style="text-align:center;" | '''Total''' !! style="text-align:center;" | Notes
|-
| '''Pick Pockets''' || style="text-align:center;" | 15% || style="text-align:center;" | +5% || style="text-align:center;" | - || style="text-align:center;" | '''20%''' ||
|-
| '''Open Locks''' || style="text-align:center;" | 30% || style="text-align:center;" | +10% || style="text-align:center;" | - || style="text-align:center;" | '''40%''' ||
|-
| '''Find/Remove Traps''' || style="text-align:center;" | 40% || style="text-align:center;" | - || style="text-align:center;" | - || style="text-align:center;" | '''40%''' ||
|-
| '''Move Silently''' || style="text-align:center;" | 30% || style="text-align:center;" | +5% || style="text-align:center;" | - || style="text-align:center;" | '''40%''' || Movement reduced to 1/3
|-
| '''Hide in Shadows''' || style="text-align:center;" | 35% || style="text-align:center;" | +5% || style="text-align:center;" | - || style="text-align:center;" | '''40%''' ||
|-
| '''Detect Noise''' || style="text-align:center;" | 20% || style="text-align:center;" | - || style="text-align:center;" | - || style="text-align:center;" | '''18%''' ||
|-
| '''Climb Walls''' || style="text-align:center;" | 65% || style="text-align:center;" | - || style="text-align:center;" | - || style="text-align:center;" | '''60%''' ||
|-
| '''Read Languages''' || style="text-align:center;" | 5% || style="text-align:center;" | - || style="text-align:center;" | - || style="text-align:center;" | '''2%''' ||
|-
|}

== Encumbrance ==
{| class="wikitable"
|'''Unencumbered'''
|'''''0-40'''''
|-
|'''Light'''
|'''''41-58'''''
|-
|'''Moderate'''
|'''''59-76'''''
|-
|'''Heavy'''
|'''''77-96'''''
|-
|'''Severe'''
|'''''97-110'''''
|-
|}
== Equipment ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
| '''Potion of Clairaudience''' ''(This potion empowers the creature drinking it to hear as the 3rd-level wizard spell of the same name. However, the potion can be used to hear even unknown areas within 30 yards. Its effects last for two turns. Spell Description: The clairaudience spell enables the wizard to concentrate upon some locale and hear in his mind any noise within a 60-foot radius of that point. Distance is not a factor, but the locale must be known--a place familiar to the spellcaster or an obvious one (such as behind a door, around a corner, in a copse of trees, etc.). Only sounds that are normally detectable by the wizard can be heard by use of this spell. Lead sheeting or magical protections prevent the operation of the spell, and the wizard has some indication that the spell is so blocked. The spell creates an invisible sensor, similar to that created by a crystal ball spell, that can be dispelled. The spell functions only on the wizard's current plane of existence. The material component of the spell is a small horn of at least 100 gp value.)''
|'''''*'''''
|-
| '''Spy Mask''' ''(Allows one to use Change Self once per day. Necromantic aspect is not identified at this time.)''
|'''''*'''''
|-
| '''Cloak of the Hunter''' ''(+10% Hide in Shadows; +10% move silently. Once per 24 hours, allows wearer to Speak with Animals per the Priest spell, as if cast by a 5th Level Priest (duration 10 rounds). Only one kind of animal can be involved per usage (e.g., wearer can talk to 10 different wolves in one usage for 10 rounds, but cannot talk to a wolf for 5 rounds and then a bear for the second 5 rounds)'' 
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Clothing'''
|'''''3 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Leather Armor'''
|'''15 lbs'''
|-
|'''Backpack'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Small pouch'''
|'''''0.5 lbs'''''
|-
|'''9 gold coins'''
|'''''*'''''
|-
|'''Hand Crossbow'''
|'''''3 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Dagger (x2)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Dwarven made Dagger (x2)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Quiver'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Quarrels (20)'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Hooded Lantern'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''3 Flasks of Lantern Oil'''
|'''''3 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Flint & Steel'''
|'''''*'''''
|-
|'''Dry Rations (3 days)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Waterskin'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Sewing Needle'''
|'''''*'''''
|-
|'''Thieves Picks'''
|'''''1 lb'''''
|-
|'''Vial of Perfume'''
|'''''*'''''
|-
|'''Whetstone'''
|'''''1 lb'''''
|-
|'''Fine Quality Deck of Playing Cards'''
|'''''*'''''
|-
|'''Total'''
|'''''44 lbs'''''
|-
|}

== Equipment Stored in Rooms ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Numerous Changes of Clothing'''
|-
|'''Set of Obsidian Dice With Bone Pips'''
|-
|'''Hooded Fine Fur Cloak'''
|-
|'''Fine Women's Clothing from Veniri'''
|-
|'''Urn of Saakh Oil'''
|-
|'''10 gold coins stored in Fariya's locked chest'''
|-
|'''20 gold in letters of credit stored in Fariya's locked chest'''
|-
|'''100 gold worth of gems stored in Fariya's locked chest'''
|-
|}

== Languages ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Common'''
|-
|'''Vox Mercanti'''
|-
|'''Thieves' Cant'''
|-
|}

== Background ==
[[File:ZZDarithe2L.jpg]]

'''Birthplace''': Belies-ar-Weil

'''Parents''': Both deceased

'''Sibling''': Vari (younger sister) deceased

She stared at her reflection in the mirror for a long time. The red hair would take some getting used to. The shorn locks of her previously long tresses less so, as that frequently just got in the way of her skills. No sign of her Da's dark hair now, the only part she truly inherited from him. Just as the freckles across her pale features came from her mother. Her hands were near as red as the hair stained from the dye. Somehow that seemed apt. She scrubbed the dye from her hands in the washbasin. At least that stain could be washed away...

Darithe Thorne was her name now. Once she had been Meav Delte, the daughter of a blacksmith in the town of Belies-ar-Weil, located mid-way along the coast of Athervon between Avis Inia, the seat of the Kingdom, to the North, and Avis Armois, the oldest and most far-flung of the Kingdom’s major cities, to the South. Her father was as dumb as the anvil he pounded everyday, but he was kind and had a ready smile, and was gentle with his young daughters Meav and her sister Vari. He did his best to support his two daughters on what little income he could make from shoeing horses and hammering out crude nails to build the rickety buildings in this poor section of town.

Their mother passed from a fever when Vari was five. Meav was three years older and did the best she could for her Da and young sister. She took care of them and when money was short she did what she had to for a few more coins to add to their larder. She helped in the smithy as much as she could and took care of delivering special orders for her Da. She found with a pretty smile she would sometimes even get tips, not much, but everything helped. She was poor but she was bright. She quickly picked up some smithing skills from her father and taught herself to read and write, which was rare for the people from her part of town.

Belis-ar-Weil was neither particularly large nor particularly small; but it held a strategic location at the mouth of the Aumine river, which carried the riches of the Kingdom’s interior to the sea, where it was then sent to either Avis Inia or Avis Armois for final destinations. Due to this vast amount of traffic in lucrative goods, the town had more than its fair share of criminal element, intent on skimming some of the proceeds for themselves. While there were a number of gangs that operated around the town, all paid their respects to the notorious Five Points Brotherhood. The Brotherhood was a huge network of Thieves that had bases over nearly the entire Kingdom – at least, that was what was said. Based out of the Capitol, The Brotherhood controlled virtually all the illegal traffic flowing on the land route between Avis Inia and Tras Veniri, and had a heavy hand in distribution to points beyond inside of Athervon. No one of sane mind crossed The Brotherhood – their operatives and informants were everywhere, and they did not hesitate to deal with problems that threatened their profitable position.

Meav had never planned to join them. To the contrary, she had always steered clear of the young gangs of new recruits, and ignored their catcalls, offers, and sometimes threats as she made her deliveries in town – that she could deal with. What really made her pick up her pace was the way one of the older members – a street captain known as Dregs – looked at her. He didn’t seem to be looking at the pretty young woman with leering eyes and lustful sneers like the others. No, Dregs always seemed to be assessing whether she might be useful to him, whether she could be an asset to his operation. His cold gaze watched her every time she passed, but he never said a thing – just gave a slight touch to his cap in greeting after their eyes met, and then turned back to his business.

She choked back a laugh thinking about it now.

She managed to keep things on an even keel until her 17th year. That was the year her Da passed – walking home at night after the neighborhood innkeeper had rewarded him with a few pints for some emergency repairs to some of his stable equipment, he must’ve never seen the horseman, riding at a full gallop along the dark road. She ran out at the sounds and screams to see him lying in the mud, blood beginning to form a small pool around him. The rider never stopped, disappearing into the darkness.

After Da was in the ground, she assessed the situation, and realized something had to give. She didn't see herself or Vari swinging a hammer to make a living. She retched at the thought of some of the things women did for coin near the docks – she would die before that became her fate. Then the faces of the gang captains came to her – that cold gaze, assessing her. Perhaps she could be of use to them.

She had no idea how to initiate a conversation about this, but her mind was made up. She walked directly up to Dregs through the crowd of his young proteges, the blood that was pounding in her ears drowning out their infantile suggestions and insults.

“I need some work.” She blurted it out without even knowing it. She held her breath waiting for him to speak.

For a moment, he didn’t – just looked at her again with the same cold eyes.

Finally, he spoke. “B’out time. Let’s get ya to Fergasse, see what he has fer ya.” His voice was rough, thin, fitting his grizzled appearance perfectly. She realized it was the first time she had ever heard it.

Fergasse was the local Master of The Brotherhood, overseeing their operations in the town. If he had ever been a working thief, there was no way to tell now – he was a very fat man, who spent more time overseeing account books than picking pockets. But he was the ordained boss for The Brotherhood in town, and he did not need to worry about his girth – there were plenty of fit gang members who would take care of any of Fergasse’s problems.

Dregs brought her to a warehouse by the docks, one she had always been warned to stay away from by Ma & Da. She had to pass by room after room of intimidating looking men, and one even patted her down and felt her up making sure she didn’t have a weapon. Finally she was in Fergasse’s “office”, a large room filled with boxes, bags, sacks, barrels, crates, chests, and every manner of thing used to transport goods – as well as piles and piles of leather-bound books: ship’s journals, logs, account books, inventory scrolls. Fergasse supervised a small army of men moving things in and out while another army was copying and modifying books, writing so fast they were sweating. Fergasse’s eye flicked to her after Dreg was able to whisper something in his ear, and he spat something back she didn’t hear, before he turned back to conducting the mayhem in the room.

Dreg took her back to her place and told her how it would work. She would start just doing "special deliveries" and watching for the town guard who's eyes were easily distracted by a lithe darkhaired lass. It was easy work for the most part, and she was good at it – folks knew her Da was gone, and men circled her like buzzards if she gave them the chance, wanting to be there when her finances or her will finally broke.

But those tasks weren't enough to support her and Vari; soon, she was pestering Dreg for bigger opportunity. Happy with her performance, he graduated her to more advanced work for the guild.

She took to the tasks like a bird to the air. It excited her. It gave her freedom from the drudgery of the smithy. And the coins to be had (earned?) were greater than she had ever seen. Though just eighteen by then, she quickly became a rising star in the guild. Soon enough, Dregs re-introduced her to Fergasse at the Bosses’ request. Fergasse wanted to have a look at this new recruit who was making him so much money.

As Fergasse spoke about the impression she had made, and that if she played her cards right she could have a bright future in The Brotherhood, she noticed a young man lounging back on a pile of grain sacks, staring at her with dark, hooded eyes. She had seen that stare before, but she was not that person anymore. She ignored the look, her lip curling into a mild sneer to express her disinterest.

After the meeting was over, she asked Dregs about the man. “Eh? On the sacks? Ach, thas Dany – Fergasse’s boyo. What ye’want wit him? Oh ya? Fancy’s ya does he? Well, ya be careful lass – that boyo’s got more problems than the Emperor of Jhon, he does – and he’ll make’em your problems if ya let ‘im. Best steer clear of ‘im, stay focused on yer work. He’s trouble if you like ‘im – but he’s also trouble if ya don’t, if ya take my meaning. Don’t make Fergasse choose between yas.”

She learned from others that Dany was an addict – he smoked the seeds from the Jhonian mazak plant, which generated the dark circles around his eyes and the vacant stare.

She heeded Dregs advice and made every attempt to avoid Dany. But to her dismay, Dany had other ideas. Apparently infatuated by her, he began hanging out in her neighborhood, repeatedly offering to buy her dinner, drinks, or to join him in a harmless smoke. She rebuffed him – gently, carefully, always saying that she had something to get done for his father. More than once she had to signal Dregs to intercept them and provide an escape. She began to stay away from the house more – Vari had enough money and was getting old enough to take care of herself and most of the chores at home while Meav earned their keep.

She used the time to hone her skills every day and the exciting life on the edge became like a drug to her. What started as a tactic to avoid Dany soon became a need to spend more and more time finding ways to complete the jobs allotted to her in the most impressive way possible. Vari was left to fend for herself as Meav was gone more and more, but Meav told herself Vari would have to learn to manage the home at some point, which assuaged her guilt at not being home with her sister.

One night, exhausted from nearly two solid days of casing a new ship that had arrived, she came home and found Vari in her bed – with Dany lying next to her. From the look of it, they had apparently been celebrating for days – there were clothes and half-eaten meals everywhere. The bitter-sweet smell of mazak hit her nostrils, and she noticed several pipes were strewn about, full of the dark tarry residue the drug leaves.

Meav was incensed – Vari had ruined everything! Now what was she going to do?

She carefully stepped over Dany and shook Vari, whispering for her to get up. But the girl remained prone, motionless. She shook harder, finally pulling her hard and flipping her over – to recoil in horror as the wide, sightless eyes of her sister stared back at her from dark hooded sockets, the open lips tinged blue.

Meav stumbled back against the wall, her heart pounding. She couldn’t think. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

She started as Dany mumbled something and rolled over onto one arm, lifting himself up on his elbow. His heavy-lidded eyes revealed he was still in the throes of the drug. He reached out to Vari, touching the dead girls arm. A minute later, a giggle erupted from him.

“I told…told you. You got to…to work up to…to it. Can’t be doing what I do. Sil…silly…girl.”

He flopped down, finally noticing Meav. “Oh…hey. You’re here. That’s great – I really was interested in you more anyway.” His eyes fluttered closed again, and he resumed gently snoring.

That day Meav picked up her Da's hammer for the last time in doing so ended her time in the guild, and guildmaster's son's life.

She looked once more in the mirror. Meav was dead, and Darithe reborn from her ashes. A dark phoenix for sure. She gathered her meager belongs and wrapped herself in her father oversized cloak and started outside. She glanced once more back at the smithy and then was gone. She walked on leaving the past behind.

A new town then, one where she is unknown. A place to disappear. The further from The Brotherhood, the better. Getting on a ship was too dangerous – The Brotherhood controlled the river and sea trade, she would be seen and her suspicious departure noted, if not prevented altogether. No, she had to leave by land.

In the dark of night, she stole down the South Road, which followed the coast all the way to Avis Armois. Far from the Capitol, perhaps there she could shake pursuit long enough to come up with a more long-term plan. The Mire Queen now beckoned to her which seemed appropriate somehow having become mired herself. As she walked she whispered a soft prayer (to whom she did not know) for forgiveness. But in her heart she knew forgiveness was reserved for those who deserved it.

The best steel doesn't always shine the brightest. Her da had taught her that and she thought of him as she walked south towards Avis Armois, the greatcloak wrapped around her due to the cool of the morn. She could still faintly smell him on it and those smells were comforting, almost as if he still embraced her in the folds of that big cloak. She breathed them in and smiled thinking of him, the pungent smell of the corrosive oils he used to clean his tools were there, and the pleasant smokey aroma of the coals of his forge still clung to the threads, and the musky smell of sweat after a good hard day of honest... She stopped abruptly and bit her lower lip. She sighed, the past is written. She could not change it no matter how much she wished to. But the future is a blank page. And that she could write.

She spotted a small family going in the opposite direction approaching, a young man, his pretty wife and two small girls tugging at their parent's cloaks. She smiled and nodded to them as their paths crossed. Her mind calling back memories of her own youth and her sister Vari. She turned and caught back up to the family offering them most of her fruit. It wouldn't last long and she knew she couldn't eat it all before it went bad. She kept a stem of grapes for herself and waved to them as they continued their journey farther away from her. She returned to the path she had chosen and walked on alone.

Landsoftheblacksea:Main Page/players/danithe thorne

2021-02-03T00:17:42Z

Darithe: /* Equipment */

[[ Landsoftheblacksea:Main_Page#Player_Characters | '''Return to the Main Page''']]

A woman running from her past and perhaps seeking redemption.

[[File:ZZDarithe2C.jpg | thumb]]

== Basics ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Character Name !! Player Name !! Race !! Class !! Alignment !! AC !! Experience !! Hit Points
|-
| Darithe Thorne (Meav Delte) || Desconocida || Human || Thief 3 || Chaotic Good || 7 (With Dex Adj) || 1250|| 11
|-
|}

== Physical ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Age !! Height !! Weight !! Eye Colour !! Hair Colour
|-
| 19 || 5'6" || 110 lbs || Light Green || Black
|}

== Stats ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:left"
|-
| Strength || '''11''' || ''Wt. Allowance: 40#; Max Press: 115#; Open Doors: 6; Bend Bars: 2%''
|-
| Dexterity || '''17''' || ''+2 React. Adj; +2 Missile Att. Adj.; -3 Def. Adj.''
|-
| Constitution || '''12''' || ''Sys. Shock: 80%; Res. Surv: 85%''
|-
| Intelligence || '''14''' || ''#Lang: 4''
|-
| Wisdom || '''10''' ||
|-
| Charisma || '''16''' || ''Mx. Hench: 8; Loy. Base: +4; Reac. Adj.: +5''
|-
|}

+10% XP Bonus

== Saving Throws ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Paralyzation/Poison/Death Magic !! Rod, Staff or Wand !! Petrification or Plymorph !! Breath Weapon !! Spell
|-
|| 13 || 14 || 13 || 15 || 12
|}
== Weapon Proficiencies ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Dagger'''
|-
|'''Hand Crossbow'''
|-
|}
== Nonweapon Proficiencies ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Blacksmithing (11)'''
|-
|'''Cooking (14)'''
|-
|'''Healing (8)'''
|-
|'''Herbalism (12)'''
|-
|'''Swimming (11)'''
|-
|'''Tumbling (17)'''
|-
|}

== Thieves Abilities ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
| '''Pick Pockets''' || 15% + 5% (DEX) + 5% (no armor) =25% ||
|-
| '''Open Locks''' || 30% + 10% (DEX) = 50% ||
|-
| '''Find/Remove Traps''' || 40% ||
|-
| '''Move Silently''' || 30% + 5% (DEX) + 10% (no armor) = 45% || Movement reduced to 1/3
|-
| '''Hide in Shadows''' || 35% + 5% (DEX) + 5% (no armor) = 45% ||
|-
| '''Detect Noise''' || 18% ||
|-
| '''Climb Walls''' || 60% + 10% (no armor) = 70% ||
|-
| '''Read Languages''' || 2% ||
|-
|}

== Encumbrance ==
{| class="wikitable"
|'''Unencumbered'''
|'''''0-40'''''
|-
|'''Light'''
|'''''41-58'''''
|-
|'''Moderate'''
|'''''59-76'''''
|-
|'''Heavy'''
|'''''77-96'''''
|-
|'''Severe'''
|'''''97-110'''''
|-
|}
== Equipment ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Clothing'''
|'''''5 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Leather Armor'''
|'''15 lbs'''
|-
|'''Backpack'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Small pouch'''
|'''''0.5 lbs'''''
|-
|'''9 gold coins'''
|'''''*'''''
|-
|'''Hand Crossbow'''
|'''''3 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Dagger (x2)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|-style="color: blue"
|'''Dwarven made Dagger (x2)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Quiver'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Quarrels (20)'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Hooded Lantern'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''3 Flasks of Lantern Oil'''
|'''''3 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Flint & Steel'''
|'''''*'''''
|-
|'''Dry Rations (3 days)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Waterskin'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Sewing Needle'''
|'''''*'''''
|-
|'''Thieves Picks'''
|'''''1 lb'''''
|-
|'''Vial of Perfume'''
|'''''*'''''
|-
|'''Whetstone'''
|'''''1 lb'''''
|-
|'''Fine Quality Deck of Playing Cards'''
|'''''*'''''
|-
|'''Total'''
|'''''41 lbs'''''
|-
|}

== Equipment Stored in Rooms ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Numerous Changes of Clothing'''
|-
|'''Set of Obsidian Dice With Bone Pips'''
|-
|'''Hooded Fine Fur Cloak'''
|-
|'''Fine Women's Clothing from Veniri'''
|-
|'''Urn of Saakh Oil'''
|-
|'''10 gold coins stored in Fariya's locked chest'''
|-
|'''20 gold in letters of credit stored in Fariya's locked chest'''
|-
|'''100 gold worth of gems stored in Fariya's locked chest'''
|-
|}

== Languages ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Common'''
|-
|'''Vox Mercanti'''
|-
|'''Thieves' Cant'''
|-
|}

== Background ==
[[File:ZZDarithe2L.jpg]]

'''Birthplace''': Belies-ar-Weil

'''Parents''': Both deceased

'''Sibling''': Vari (younger sister) deceased

She stared at her reflection in the mirror for a long time. The red hair would take some getting used to. The shorn locks of her previously long tresses less so, as that frequently just got in the way of her skills. No sign of her Da's dark hair now, the only part she truly inherited from him. Just as the freckles across her pale features came from her mother. Her hands were near as red as the hair stained from the dye. Somehow that seemed apt. She scrubbed the dye from her hands in the washbasin. At least that stain could be washed away...

Darithe Thorne was her name now. Once she had been Meav Delte, the daughter of a blacksmith in the town of Belies-ar-Weil, located mid-way along the coast of Athervon between Avis Inia, the seat of the Kingdom, to the North, and Avis Armois, the oldest and most far-flung of the Kingdom’s major cities, to the South. Her father was as dumb as the anvil he pounded everyday, but he was kind and had a ready smile, and was gentle with his young daughters Meav and her sister Vari. He did his best to support his two daughters on what little income he could make from shoeing horses and hammering out crude nails to build the rickety buildings in this poor section of town.

Their mother passed from a fever when Vari was five. Meav was three years older and did the best she could for her Da and young sister. She took care of them and when money was short she did what she had to for a few more coins to add to their larder. She helped in the smithy as much as she could and took care of delivering special orders for her Da. She found with a pretty smile she would sometimes even get tips, not much, but everything helped. She was poor but she was bright. She quickly picked up some smithing skills from her father and taught herself to read and write, which was rare for the people from her part of town.

Belis-ar-Weil was neither particularly large nor particularly small; but it held a strategic location at the mouth of the Aumine river, which carried the riches of the Kingdom’s interior to the sea, where it was then sent to either Avis Inia or Avis Armois for final destinations. Due to this vast amount of traffic in lucrative goods, the town had more than its fair share of criminal element, intent on skimming some of the proceeds for themselves. While there were a number of gangs that operated around the town, all paid their respects to the notorious Five Points Brotherhood. The Brotherhood was a huge network of Thieves that had bases over nearly the entire Kingdom – at least, that was what was said. Based out of the Capitol, The Brotherhood controlled virtually all the illegal traffic flowing on the land route between Avis Inia and Tras Veniri, and had a heavy hand in distribution to points beyond inside of Athervon. No one of sane mind crossed The Brotherhood – their operatives and informants were everywhere, and they did not hesitate to deal with problems that threatened their profitable position.

Meav had never planned to join them. To the contrary, she had always steered clear of the young gangs of new recruits, and ignored their catcalls, offers, and sometimes threats as she made her deliveries in town – that she could deal with. What really made her pick up her pace was the way one of the older members – a street captain known as Dregs – looked at her. He didn’t seem to be looking at the pretty young woman with leering eyes and lustful sneers like the others. No, Dregs always seemed to be assessing whether she might be useful to him, whether she could be an asset to his operation. His cold gaze watched her every time she passed, but he never said a thing – just gave a slight touch to his cap in greeting after their eyes met, and then turned back to his business.

She choked back a laugh thinking about it now.

She managed to keep things on an even keel until her 17th year. That was the year her Da passed – walking home at night after the neighborhood innkeeper had rewarded him with a few pints for some emergency repairs to some of his stable equipment, he must’ve never seen the horseman, riding at a full gallop along the dark road. She ran out at the sounds and screams to see him lying in the mud, blood beginning to form a small pool around him. The rider never stopped, disappearing into the darkness.

After Da was in the ground, she assessed the situation, and realized something had to give. She didn't see herself or Vari swinging a hammer to make a living. She retched at the thought of some of the things women did for coin near the docks – she would die before that became her fate. Then the faces of the gang captains came to her – that cold gaze, assessing her. Perhaps she could be of use to them.

She had no idea how to initiate a conversation about this, but her mind was made up. She walked directly up to Dregs through the crowd of his young proteges, the blood that was pounding in her ears drowning out their infantile suggestions and insults.

“I need some work.” She blurted it out without even knowing it. She held her breath waiting for him to speak.

For a moment, he didn’t – just looked at her again with the same cold eyes.

Finally, he spoke. “B’out time. Let’s get ya to Fergasse, see what he has fer ya.” His voice was rough, thin, fitting his grizzled appearance perfectly. She realized it was the first time she had ever heard it.

Fergasse was the local Master of The Brotherhood, overseeing their operations in the town. If he had ever been a working thief, there was no way to tell now – he was a very fat man, who spent more time overseeing account books than picking pockets. But he was the ordained boss for The Brotherhood in town, and he did not need to worry about his girth – there were plenty of fit gang members who would take care of any of Fergasse’s problems.

Dregs brought her to a warehouse by the docks, one she had always been warned to stay away from by Ma & Da. She had to pass by room after room of intimidating looking men, and one even patted her down and felt her up making sure she didn’t have a weapon. Finally she was in Fergasse’s “office”, a large room filled with boxes, bags, sacks, barrels, crates, chests, and every manner of thing used to transport goods – as well as piles and piles of leather-bound books: ship’s journals, logs, account books, inventory scrolls. Fergasse supervised a small army of men moving things in and out while another army was copying and modifying books, writing so fast they were sweating. Fergasse’s eye flicked to her after Dreg was able to whisper something in his ear, and he spat something back she didn’t hear, before he turned back to conducting the mayhem in the room.

Dreg took her back to her place and told her how it would work. She would start just doing "special deliveries" and watching for the town guard who's eyes were easily distracted by a lithe darkhaired lass. It was easy work for the most part, and she was good at it – folks knew her Da was gone, and men circled her like buzzards if she gave them the chance, wanting to be there when her finances or her will finally broke.

But those tasks weren't enough to support her and Vari; soon, she was pestering Dreg for bigger opportunity. Happy with her performance, he graduated her to more advanced work for the guild.

She took to the tasks like a bird to the air. It excited her. It gave her freedom from the drudgery of the smithy. And the coins to be had (earned?) were greater than she had ever seen. Though just eighteen by then, she quickly became a rising star in the guild. Soon enough, Dregs re-introduced her to Fergasse at the Bosses’ request. Fergasse wanted to have a look at this new recruit who was making him so much money.

As Fergasse spoke about the impression she had made, and that if she played her cards right she could have a bright future in The Brotherhood, she noticed a young man lounging back on a pile of grain sacks, staring at her with dark, hooded eyes. She had seen that stare before, but she was not that person anymore. She ignored the look, her lip curling into a mild sneer to express her disinterest.

After the meeting was over, she asked Dregs about the man. “Eh? On the sacks? Ach, thas Dany – Fergasse’s boyo. What ye’want wit him? Oh ya? Fancy’s ya does he? Well, ya be careful lass – that boyo’s got more problems than the Emperor of Jhon, he does – and he’ll make’em your problems if ya let ‘im. Best steer clear of ‘im, stay focused on yer work. He’s trouble if you like ‘im – but he’s also trouble if ya don’t, if ya take my meaning. Don’t make Fergasse choose between yas.”

She learned from others that Dany was an addict – he smoked the seeds from the Jhonian mazak plant, which generated the dark circles around his eyes and the vacant stare.

She heeded Dregs advice and made every attempt to avoid Dany. But to her dismay, Dany had other ideas. Apparently infatuated by her, he began hanging out in her neighborhood, repeatedly offering to buy her dinner, drinks, or to join him in a harmless smoke. She rebuffed him – gently, carefully, always saying that she had something to get done for his father. More than once she had to signal Dregs to intercept them and provide an escape. She began to stay away from the house more – Vari had enough money and was getting old enough to take care of herself and most of the chores at home while Meav earned their keep.

She used the time to hone her skills every day and the exciting life on the edge became like a drug to her. What started as a tactic to avoid Dany soon became a need to spend more and more time finding ways to complete the jobs allotted to her in the most impressive way possible. Vari was left to fend for herself as Meav was gone more and more, but Meav told herself Vari would have to learn to manage the home at some point, which assuaged her guilt at not being home with her sister.

One night, exhausted from nearly two solid days of casing a new ship that had arrived, she came home and found Vari in her bed – with Dany lying next to her. From the look of it, they had apparently been celebrating for days – there were clothes and half-eaten meals everywhere. The bitter-sweet smell of mazak hit her nostrils, and she noticed several pipes were strewn about, full of the dark tarry residue the drug leaves.

Meav was incensed – Vari had ruined everything! Now what was she going to do?

She carefully stepped over Dany and shook Vari, whispering for her to get up. But the girl remained prone, motionless. She shook harder, finally pulling her hard and flipping her over – to recoil in horror as the wide, sightless eyes of her sister stared back at her from dark hooded sockets, the open lips tinged blue.

Meav stumbled back against the wall, her heart pounding. She couldn’t think. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

She started as Dany mumbled something and rolled over onto one arm, lifting himself up on his elbow. His heavy-lidded eyes revealed he was still in the throes of the drug. He reached out to Vari, touching the dead girls arm. A minute later, a giggle erupted from him.

“I told…told you. You got to…to work up to…to it. Can’t be doing what I do. Sil…silly…girl.”

He flopped down, finally noticing Meav. “Oh…hey. You’re here. That’s great – I really was interested in you more anyway.” His eyes fluttered closed again, and he resumed gently snoring.

That day Meav picked up her Da's hammer for the last time in doing so ended her time in the guild, and guildmaster's son's life.

She looked once more in the mirror. Meav was dead, and Darithe reborn from her ashes. A dark phoenix for sure. She gathered her meager belongs and wrapped herself in her father oversized cloak and started outside. She glanced once more back at the smithy and then was gone. She walked on leaving the past behind.

A new town then, one where she is unknown. A place to disappear. The further from The Brotherhood, the better. Getting on a ship was too dangerous – The Brotherhood controlled the river and sea trade, she would be seen and her suspicious departure noted, if not prevented altogether. No, she had to leave by land.

In the dark of night, she stole down the South Road, which followed the coast all the way to Avis Armois. Far from the Capitol, perhaps there she could shake pursuit long enough to come up with a more long-term plan. The Mire Queen now beckoned to her which seemed appropriate somehow having become mired herself. As she walked she whispered a soft prayer (to whom she did not know) for forgiveness. But in her heart she knew forgiveness was reserved for those who deserved it.

The best steel doesn't always shine the brightest. Her da had taught her that and she thought of him as she walked south towards Avis Armois, the greatcloak wrapped around her due to the cool of the morn. She could still faintly smell him on it and those smells were comforting, almost as if he still embraced her in the folds of that big cloak. She breathed them in and smiled thinking of him, the pungent smell of the corrosive oils he used to clean his tools were there, and the pleasant smokey aroma of the coals of his forge still clung to the threads, and the musky smell of sweat after a good hard day of honest... She stopped abruptly and bit her lower lip. She sighed, the past is written. She could not change it no matter how much she wished to. But the future is a blank page. And that she could write.

She spotted a small family going in the opposite direction approaching, a young man, his pretty wife and two small girls tugging at their parent's cloaks. She smiled and nodded to them as their paths crossed. Her mind calling back memories of her own youth and her sister Vari. She turned and caught back up to the family offering them most of her fruit. It wouldn't last long and she knew she couldn't eat it all before it went bad. She kept a stem of grapes for herself and waved to them as they continued their journey farther away from her. She returned to the path she had chosen and walked on alone.

Iscind

2021-02-02T00:13:12Z

Darithe: /* EQUIPMENT */

Back to Homepage[https://wiki.rpg.net/index.php/ADnD.AgainstTheGiants]

'''Iscind Aranya, Half-Elf Ranger 6'''

==Physical Notes==
[[File:ADnD.Iscind.jpg|250px|thumb|right|alt text]]
'''Race''': Half-Elf; '''Sex''': Female; '''Age''': 21

'''Height''': 5'4"; '''Weight''': 105lbs; '''Eye Color''': Blue; '''Hair Color''': Blond; '''Features''': Elven look and slightly pointed ears

==Social Class==
Upper-lower class

==Personality Traits==
'''Bonds''': Town of Flameflower, my birthplace and home to my mother.

'''Flaws''': I seek vengeance on those who killed my lover.

'''Ideals''': Always help those who seek it honorably.

'''Traits''': I am overly tender-hearted with those I care about.
- I am shy around those I do not know well.

==ATTRIBUTES==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:left"
|-
| '''Strength''' || '''15''' || ''Mod: +1; Saving Throw: +2; Base Encumbrance: 75#''
|-
| '''Dexterity''' || '''15''' || ''Mod: +1; Saving Throw: +3''
|-
| '''Constitution''' || '''15''' || ''Mod: +1; Saving Throw*: +5''
|-
| '''Intelligence''' || '''10''' || ''Mod: +0; Saving Throw: +2''
|-
| '''Wisdom''' || '''13''' || ''Mod: +1; Saving Throw*: +5''
|-
| '''Charisma''' || '''11''' || ''Mod: +0; Saving Throw: +2''
|-
|}
: * Proficiency with these Saving Throws

==SECONDARY STATS==
:'''Experience Points''': 37,500
:'''Hit Points''': 46 (6d10 HD, +1 CON Mod)
:'''Armor Class''': 15 (leather 3 +dex 1 +shield 2 +misc)
:'''Attack Bonus''': +6
:'''Ability Bonus -Proficiency''': +3; '''Nonproficiciency''': +1
:'''Deity''': Ehlonna
:'''Alignment''': Neutral Good
:'''Languages''': Common, Elven, Gnoll, Orcish

:'''Weapons'''
: * '''Longbow +2''': Attack Bonus: +9; Damage: 1D8 +2; Qualities: Ranged 100ft, Piercing
: * '''Longsword +1''': Attack Bonus: +8; Damage: 1D8 +2; Qualities: Slashing
: * ('''Weapon'''): Attack Bonus: +0; Damage: 1Dx +0; Qualities:

==HALF-ELF ABILITIES==
:'''Size''': Medium
:'''Movement''': 60 feet
:'''Ability Check Bonus''': +1 to Saving Throws and Ability Checks with for Dexterity, Intelligence, Wisdom, Charism.
:'''Resistance''': +4 bonus to saving throws against Magical Sleep and Charm effects.
:'''Skill Bonus''': +2 to Perception and can spot secret and concealed doors when passing within 10ft automatically make a Perception test to notice it.
:'''Skill Proficiencies''': Languages (Common, Elven), bonus skill
:'''Twilight Vision''': can see normally by moonlight and in dim light.

==RANGER CLASS ABILITIES==
:'''Saving Throws''': Consitution, Wisdom
:'''Favored Enemy (+3)''': vs bugbears, cyclopskin, cyclopses, dune stalkers, ettins, flinds, giants, gibberling, gnolls, goblins, grimlock, hobgoblins, kobolds, meazels, norker, ogres, ogre magi, ogrillons, orcs, quaggoth, tasloi, trolls, and xvarts. Gain bonus to damage with melee & ranged weapon, and to Survival skills to track them. Bonus languages (Gnoll & Orc)
:'''Foe Hunter (+3)''': bonus to Perception and Survival skills. Rangers also halve foes’ Armor Class bonuses for cover and concealment (round all fractions down).
:'''Animal Empathy (+2)''': bonus to Animal Handling skill.
:'''Strider''': may move at their normal Movement Rate when making Stealth checks to move silently or Survival checks to track.
:'''Extra Attack (2/rd)'''
===Weapon and Armor Proficiencies===
:'''Weapons''': all
:'''Armor''': light and medium
:'''Shields''': all

===Spell Slots===
'''Spells per level'''
:none yet

'''Spells prepaired'''
:none yet

==SKILLS==
: ''Acrobatics'' (DEX)
: Animal Handling* (WIS) +7
: ''Arcana'' (INT)
: Athletics (STR) +1
: Chiper (INT) +1
: ''Craft'' [''Cook'']* (INT) +4
: Deception (CHA) +1
: ''Disable Device'' (DEX)
: ''Disguise'' (CHA)
: History (INT) +1
: Insight (WIS) +2
: Intimidation (CHA) +2
: ''Language'' [type] (INT)
: Medicine* (WIS) +5
: Nature* (INT) +4
: Perception* (WIS) +10
: Performance (CHA) +1
: Persuasion (CHA) +1
: ''Poison'' (INT)
: Profession [type] (WIS) +2
: Religion (INT) +1
: Sleight-of-Hands (DEX) +2
: Stealth* (DEX) +5
: Survival* (WIS) +8 (+11 vs. favored enemies)

:: * Proficiency with these skills
:: ''These skills require Proficiency to use''.

==EQUIPMENT==
'''Encumbrance''': Base (No Encumbrance) [Strx5]: 75lbs; Moderate Load [Strx10]: 150lbs; Heavy Load [Strx15]: 225lbs

{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Leather Armor'''
|'''''15 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Large Wooden Shield''' (unicorn painted on front)
|'''''8 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Magical Longbow'''
|'''''3 lb'''''
|-
|'''Magic Longsword'''
|'''''4 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Dagger'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Quiver with 20 arrows'''
|'''''3 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Backpack'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Hooded Lantern'''
|'''''2 lb'''''
|-
|'''Mirror'''
|'''''* lbs'''''
|-
|'''3 Vials of Oil'''
|'''''3 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Vial of Perfume'''
|'''''* lbs'''''
|-
|'''Sewing Kit/Needle'''
|'''''* lbs'''''
|-
|'''Small Tent'''
|'''''10 lb'''''
|-
|'''Whetstone'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Winter Blanket'''
|'''''3 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Wineskin'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''One week Rations'''
|'''''5 lb'''''
|-
|'''Boots of Elvenkind'''
|'''''x lbs'''''
|-
|500 gold pices (in pouch)
|'''''0.5 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Total '''
|'''''61.5 lbs'''''
|-
|}

==HISTORY==
Iscind lived most of her life in the town of Flameflower in the Vesve Forest. Her father was a Suel Ranger and her mother an Elven Priestess of Ehlonna, though they never married. Her father was a wandering sort and usually only showed up near or after her birthday. Except last year his visits suddenly stopped. She seeks to find his fate. Her lover an elven ranger was killed recently and she seeks vengeance on those responsible.

------------------------

"Meleth nin, I was to be the first..," she spoke softly as she laid his cloak over his grave. After she found him, she had chosen this spot to lay him to rest. Underneath a great oak where songbirds sang and near a fast running brook which also made its own music. The sounds of the forest he had always loved. She had loved them too but now they were less sweet without him to share their beauty.

He was lying on his back, eyes open staring at the sky when she found him. How often she had found him so when she roused from her slumber beside him. But he did not see the sky above, nor her as she leaned over and kissed him one last time. With one gloved hand she shut those eyes, thinking the only happiness I ever knew had been reflected there.

He bore only one wound, an arrow stuck forth from his chest, the area around blackened from some foul poison. There were also several splotches of blood in the grass near where he lay. He had struck at least two of those who attacked him, yet no bodies were with him. They either still lived or their companions had carried them away. She searched for the tracks and at least 6 were visible to her in addition to the blood trail. They would not be hard to find. But she would not leave him for the crows to track the wolves that slew him. And so she picked him up and carried him to a better place. Though small she was not weak.

With the task done she swore an oath to his grave. By the moon and stars above, she would make those who did this pay. One stray tear ran down her cheek, but a dead leaf borne by the wind caressed her cheek, as he so often had done, and brushed the tear onto its dry brittle form carrying it away dancing in the wind. "Can your shade not allow me even one tear," she said softly, a smile upon her lips despite the sorrow she felt.

She returned to the tracks and thought there were too many, but she estimated she could take at least half of them if she caught them unawares. And after she fell to their attacks, well she would see his face again, this time not covered in the veil of death. Her father had once told her that truth lies on the lips of dying men. She began to carefully follow the trail, for she sought truth....

Landsoftheblacksea:Main Page/players/danithe thorne

2021-01-22T00:27:38Z

Darithe: /* Background */

[[ Landsoftheblacksea:Main_Page#Player_Characters | '''Return to the Main Page''']]

A woman running from her past and perhaps seeking redemption.

[[File:ZZDarithe2C.jpg | thumb]]

== Basics ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Character Name !! Player Name !! Race !! Class !! Alignment !! AC !! Experience !! Hit Points
|-
| Darithe Thorne (Meav Delte) || Desconocida || Human || Thief 3 || Chaotic Good || 7 (With Dex Adj) || 1250|| 11
|-
|}

== Physical ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Age !! Height !! Weight !! Eye Colour !! Hair Colour
|-
| 19 || 5'6" || 110 lbs || Light Green || Black
|}

== Stats ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:left"
|-
| Strength || '''11''' || ''Wt. Allowance: 40#; Max Press: 115#; Open Doors: 6; Bend Bars: 2%''
|-
| Dexterity || '''17''' || ''+2 React. Adj; +2 Missile Att. Adj.; -3 Def. Adj.''
|-
| Constitution || '''12''' || ''Sys. Shock: 80%; Res. Surv: 85%''
|-
| Intelligence || '''14''' || ''#Lang: 4''
|-
| Wisdom || '''10''' ||
|-
| Charisma || '''16''' || ''Mx. Hench: 8; Loy. Base: +4; Reac. Adj.: +5''
|-
|}

+10% XP Bonus

== Saving Throws ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Paralyzation/Poison/Death Magic !! Rod, Staff or Wand !! Petrification or Plymorph !! Breath Weapon !! Spell
|-
|| 13 || 14 || 13 || 15 || 12
|}
== Weapon Proficiencies ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Dagger'''
|-
|'''Hand Crossbow'''
|-
|}
== Nonweapon Proficiencies ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Blacksmithing (11)'''
|-
|'''Cooking (14)'''
|-
|'''Healing (8)'''
|-
|'''Herbalism (12)'''
|-
|'''Swimming (11)'''
|-
|'''Tumbling (17)'''
|-
|}

== Thieves Abilities ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
| '''Pick Pockets''' || 15% + 5% (DEX) + 5% (no armor) =25% ||
|-
| '''Open Locks''' || 30% + 10% (DEX) = 50% ||
|-
| '''Find/Remove Traps''' || 40% ||
|-
| '''Move Silently''' || 30% + 5% (DEX) + 10% (no armor) = 45% || Movement reduced to 1/3
|-
| '''Hide in Shadows''' || 35% + 5% (DEX) + 5% (no armor) = 45% ||
|-
| '''Detect Noise''' || 18% ||
|-
| '''Climb Walls''' || 60% + 10% (no armor) = 70% ||
|-
| '''Read Languages''' || 2% ||
|-
|}

== Encumbrance ==
{| class="wikitable"
|'''Unencumbered'''
|'''''0-40'''''
|-
|'''Light'''
|'''''41-58'''''
|-
|'''Moderate'''
|'''''59-76'''''
|-
|'''Heavy'''
|'''''77-96'''''
|-
|'''Severe'''
|'''''97-110'''''
|-
|}
== Equipment ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Clothing'''
|'''''5 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Leather Armor'''
|'''15 lbs'''
|-
|'''Backpack'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Small pouch'''
|'''''0.5 lbs'''''
|-
|'''10 gold coins'''
|'''''*'''''
|-
|'''Hand Crossbow'''
|'''''3 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Dagger (x2)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|-style="color: blue"
|'''Dwarven made Dagger (x2)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Quiver'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Quarrels (20)'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Hooded Lantern'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''3 Flasks of Lantern Oil'''
|'''''3 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Flint & Steel'''
|'''''*'''''
|-
|'''Dry Rations (3 days)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Waterskin'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Sewing Needle'''
|'''''*'''''
|-
|'''Thieves Picks'''
|'''''1 lb'''''
|-
|'''Vial of Perfume'''
|'''''*'''''
|-
|'''Whetstone'''
|'''''1 lb'''''
|-
|'''Fine Quality Deck of Playing Cards'''
|'''''*'''''
|-
|'''Total'''
|'''''41 lbs'''''
|-
|}

== Equipment Stored in Rooms ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Numerous Changes of Clothing'''
|-
|'''Set of Obsidian Dice With Bone Pips'''
|-
|'''Hooded Fine Fur Cloak'''
|-
|'''Fine Women's Clothing from Veniri'''
|-
|'''Urn of Saakh Oil'''
|-
|'''10 gold coins stored in Fariya's locked chest'''
|-
|'''20 gold in letters of credit stored in Fariya's locked chest'''
|-
|'''100 gold worth of gems stored in Fariya's locked chest'''
|-
|}

== Languages ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Common'''
|-
|'''Vox Mercanti'''
|-
|'''Thieves' Cant'''
|-
|}

== Background ==
[[File:ZZDarithe2L.jpg]]

'''Birthplace''': Belies-ar-Weil

'''Parents''': Both deceased

'''Sibling''': Vari (younger sister) deceased

She stared at her reflection in the mirror for a long time. The red hair would take some getting used to. The shorn locks of her previously long tresses less so, as that frequently just got in the way of her skills. No sign of her Da's dark hair now, the only part she truly inherited from him. Just as the freckles across her pale features came from her mother. Her hands were near as red as the hair stained from the dye. Somehow that seemed apt. She scrubbed the dye from her hands in the washbasin. At least that stain could be washed away...

Darithe Thorne was her name now. Once she had been Meav Delte, the daughter of a blacksmith in the town of Belies-ar-Weil, located mid-way along the coast of Athervon between Avis Inia, the seat of the Kingdom, to the North, and Avis Armois, the oldest and most far-flung of the Kingdom’s major cities, to the South. Her father was as dumb as the anvil he pounded everyday, but he was kind and had a ready smile, and was gentle with his young daughters Meav and her sister Vari. He did his best to support his two daughters on what little income he could make from shoeing horses and hammering out crude nails to build the rickety buildings in this poor section of town.

Their mother passed from a fever when Vari was five. Meav was three years older and did the best she could for her Da and young sister. She took care of them and when money was short she did what she had to for a few more coins to add to their larder. She helped in the smithy as much as she could and took care of delivering special orders for her Da. She found with a pretty smile she would sometimes even get tips, not much, but everything helped. She was poor but she was bright. She quickly picked up some smithing skills from her father and taught herself to read and write, which was rare for the people from her part of town.

Belis-ar-Weil was neither particularly large nor particularly small; but it held a strategic location at the mouth of the Aumine river, which carried the riches of the Kingdom’s interior to the sea, where it was then sent to either Avis Inia or Avis Armois for final destinations. Due to this vast amount of traffic in lucrative goods, the town had more than its fair share of criminal element, intent on skimming some of the proceeds for themselves. While there were a number of gangs that operated around the town, all paid their respects to the notorious Five Points Brotherhood. The Brotherhood was a huge network of Thieves that had bases over nearly the entire Kingdom – at least, that was what was said. Based out of the Capitol, The Brotherhood controlled virtually all the illegal traffic flowing on the land route between Avis Inia and Tras Veniri, and had a heavy hand in distribution to points beyond inside of Athervon. No one of sane mind crossed The Brotherhood – their operatives and informants were everywhere, and they did not hesitate to deal with problems that threatened their profitable position.

Meav had never planned to join them. To the contrary, she had always steered clear of the young gangs of new recruits, and ignored their catcalls, offers, and sometimes threats as she made her deliveries in town – that she could deal with. What really made her pick up her pace was the way one of the older members – a street captain known as Dregs – looked at her. He didn’t seem to be looking at the pretty young woman with leering eyes and lustful sneers like the others. No, Dregs always seemed to be assessing whether she might be useful to him, whether she could be an asset to his operation. His cold gaze watched her every time she passed, but he never said a thing – just gave a slight touch to his cap in greeting after their eyes met, and then turned back to his business.

She choked back a laugh thinking about it now.

She managed to keep things on an even keel until her 17th year. That was the year her Da passed – walking home at night after the neighborhood innkeeper had rewarded him with a few pints for some emergency repairs to some of his stable equipment, he must’ve never seen the horseman, riding at a full gallop along the dark road. She ran out at the sounds and screams to see him lying in the mud, blood beginning to form a small pool around him. The rider never stopped, disappearing into the darkness.

After Da was in the ground, she assessed the situation, and realized something had to give. She didn't see herself or Vari swinging a hammer to make a living. She retched at the thought of some of the things women did for coin near the docks – she would die before that became her fate. Then the faces of the gang captains came to her – that cold gaze, assessing her. Perhaps she could be of use to them.

She had no idea how to initiate a conversation about this, but her mind was made up. She walked directly up to Dregs through the crowd of his young proteges, the blood that was pounding in her ears drowning out their infantile suggestions and insults.

“I need some work.” She blurted it out without even knowing it. She held her breath waiting for him to speak.

For a moment, he didn’t – just looked at her again with the same cold eyes.

Finally, he spoke. “B’out time. Let’s get ya to Fergasse, see what he has fer ya.” His voice was rough, thin, fitting his grizzled appearance perfectly. She realized it was the first time she had ever heard it.

Fergasse was the local Master of The Brotherhood, overseeing their operations in the town. If he had ever been a working thief, there was no way to tell now – he was a very fat man, who spent more time overseeing account books than picking pockets. But he was the ordained boss for The Brotherhood in town, and he did not need to worry about his girth – there were plenty of fit gang members who would take care of any of Fergasse’s problems.

Dregs brought her to a warehouse by the docks, one she had always been warned to stay away from by Ma & Da. She had to pass by room after room of intimidating looking men, and one even patted her down and felt her up making sure she didn’t have a weapon. Finally she was in Fergasse’s “office”, a large room filled with boxes, bags, sacks, barrels, crates, chests, and every manner of thing used to transport goods – as well as piles and piles of leather-bound books: ship’s journals, logs, account books, inventory scrolls. Fergasse supervised a small army of men moving things in and out while another army was copying and modifying books, writing so fast they were sweating. Fergasse’s eye flicked to her after Dreg was able to whisper something in his ear, and he spat something back she didn’t hear, before he turned back to conducting the mayhem in the room.

Dreg took her back to her place and told her how it would work. She would start just doing "special deliveries" and watching for the town guard who's eyes were easily distracted by a lithe darkhaired lass. It was easy work for the most part, and she was good at it – folks knew her Da was gone, and men circled her like buzzards if she gave them the chance, wanting to be there when her finances or her will finally broke.

But those tasks weren't enough to support her and Vari; soon, she was pestering Dreg for bigger opportunity. Happy with her performance, he graduated her to more advanced work for the guild.

She took to the tasks like a bird to the air. It excited her. It gave her freedom from the drudgery of the smithy. And the coins to be had (earned?) were greater than she had ever seen. Though just eighteen by then, she quickly became a rising star in the guild. Soon enough, Dregs re-introduced her to Fergasse at the Bosses’ request. Fergasse wanted to have a look at this new recruit who was making him so much money.

As Fergasse spoke about the impression she had made, and that if she played her cards right she could have a bright future in The Brotherhood, she noticed a young man lounging back on a pile of grain sacks, staring at her with dark, hooded eyes. She had seen that stare before, but she was not that person anymore. She ignored the look, her lip curling into a mild sneer to express her disinterest.

After the meeting was over, she asked Dregs about the man. “Eh? On the sacks? Ach, thas Dany – Fergasse’s boyo. What ye’want wit him? Oh ya? Fancy’s ya does he? Well, ya be careful lass – that boyo’s got more problems than the Emperor of Jhon, he does – and he’ll make’em your problems if ya let ‘im. Best steer clear of ‘im, stay focused on yer work. He’s trouble if you like ‘im – but he’s also trouble if ya don’t, if ya take my meaning. Don’t make Fergasse choose between yas.”

She learned from others that Dany was an addict – he smoked the seeds from the Jhonian mazak plant, which generated the dark circles around his eyes and the vacant stare.

She heeded Dregs advice and made every attempt to avoid Dany. But to her dismay, Dany had other ideas. Apparently infatuated by her, he began hanging out in her neighborhood, repeatedly offering to buy her dinner, drinks, or to join him in a harmless smoke. She rebuffed him – gently, carefully, always saying that she had something to get done for his father. More than once she had to signal Dregs to intercept them and provide an escape. She began to stay away from the house more – Vari had enough money and was getting old enough to take care of herself and most of the chores at home while Meav earned their keep.

She used the time to hone her skills every day and the exciting life on the edge became like a drug to her. What started as a tactic to avoid Dany soon became a need to spend more and more time finding ways to complete the jobs allotted to her in the most impressive way possible. Vari was left to fend for herself as Meav was gone more and more, but Meav told herself Vari would have to learn to manage the home at some point, which assuaged her guilt at not being home with her sister.

One night, exhausted from nearly two solid days of casing a new ship that had arrived, she came home and found Vari in her bed – with Dany lying next to her. From the look of it, they had apparently been celebrating for days – there were clothes and half-eaten meals everywhere. The bitter-sweet smell of mazak hit her nostrils, and she noticed several pipes were strewn about, full of the dark tarry residue the drug leaves.

Meav was incensed – Vari had ruined everything! Now what was she going to do?

She carefully stepped over Dany and shook Vari, whispering for her to get up. But the girl remained prone, motionless. She shook harder, finally pulling her hard and flipping her over – to recoil in horror as the wide, sightless eyes of her sister stared back at her from dark hooded sockets, the open lips tinged blue.

Meav stumbled back against the wall, her heart pounding. She couldn’t think. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

She started as Dany mumbled something and rolled over onto one arm, lifting himself up on his elbow. His heavy-lidded eyes revealed he was still in the throes of the drug. He reached out to Vari, touching the dead girls arm. A minute later, a giggle erupted from him.

“I told…told you. You got to…to work up to…to it. Can’t be doing what I do. Sil…silly…girl.”

He flopped down, finally noticing Meav. “Oh…hey. You’re here. That’s great – I really was interested in you more anyway.” His eyes fluttered closed again, and he resumed gently snoring.

That day Meav picked up her Da's hammer for the last time in doing so ended her time in the guild, and guildmaster's son's life.

She looked once more in the mirror. Meav was dead, and Darithe reborn from her ashes. A dark phoenix for sure. She gathered her meager belongs and wrapped herself in her father oversized cloak and started outside. She glanced once more back at the smithy and then was gone. She walked on leaving the past behind.

A new town then, one where she is unknown. A place to disappear. The further from The Brotherhood, the better. Getting on a ship was too dangerous – The Brotherhood controlled the river and sea trade, she would be seen and her suspicious departure noted, if not prevented altogether. No, she had to leave by land.

In the dark of night, she stole down the South Road, which followed the coast all the way to Avis Armois. Far from the Capitol, perhaps there she could shake pursuit long enough to come up with a more long-term plan. The Mire Queen now beckoned to her which seemed appropriate somehow having become mired herself. As she walked she whispered a soft prayer (to whom she did not know) for forgiveness. But in her heart she knew forgiveness was reserved for those who deserved it.

The best steel doesn't always shine the brightest. Her da had taught her that and she thought of him as she walked south towards Avis Armois, the greatcloak wrapped around her due to the cool of the morn. She could still faintly smell him on it and those smells were comforting, almost as if he still embraced her in the folds of that big cloak. She breathed them in and smiled thinking of him, the pungent smell of the corrosive oils he used to clean his tools were there, and the pleasant smokey aroma of the coals of his forge still clung to the threads, and the musky smell of sweat after a good hard day of honest... She stopped abruptly and bit her lower lip. She sighed, the past is written. She could not change it no matter how much she wished to. But the future is a blank page. And that she could write.

She spotted a small family going in the opposite direction approaching, a young man, his pretty wife and two small girls tugging at their parent's cloaks. She smiled and nodded to them as their paths crossed. Her mind calling back memories of her own youth and her sister Vari. She turned and caught back up to the family offering them most of her fruit. It wouldn't last long and she knew she couldn't eat it all before it went bad. She kept a stem of grapes for herself and waved to them as they continued their journey farther away from her. She returned to the path she had chosen and walked on alone.

Landsoftheblacksea:Main Page/players/danithe thorne

2021-01-22T00:24:25Z

Darithe: /* Equipment Stored in Rooms */

[[ Landsoftheblacksea:Main_Page#Player_Characters | '''Return to the Main Page''']]

A woman running from her past and perhaps seeking redemption.

[[File:ZZDarithe2C.jpg | thumb]]

== Basics ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Character Name !! Player Name !! Race !! Class !! Alignment !! AC !! Experience !! Hit Points
|-
| Darithe Thorne (Meav Delte) || Desconocida || Human || Thief 3 || Chaotic Good || 7 (With Dex Adj) || 1250|| 11
|-
|}

== Physical ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Age !! Height !! Weight !! Eye Colour !! Hair Colour
|-
| 19 || 5'6" || 110 lbs || Light Green || Black
|}

== Stats ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:left"
|-
| Strength || '''11''' || ''Wt. Allowance: 40#; Max Press: 115#; Open Doors: 6; Bend Bars: 2%''
|-
| Dexterity || '''17''' || ''+2 React. Adj; +2 Missile Att. Adj.; -3 Def. Adj.''
|-
| Constitution || '''12''' || ''Sys. Shock: 80%; Res. Surv: 85%''
|-
| Intelligence || '''14''' || ''#Lang: 4''
|-
| Wisdom || '''10''' ||
|-
| Charisma || '''16''' || ''Mx. Hench: 8; Loy. Base: +4; Reac. Adj.: +5''
|-
|}

+10% XP Bonus

== Saving Throws ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Paralyzation/Poison/Death Magic !! Rod, Staff or Wand !! Petrification or Plymorph !! Breath Weapon !! Spell
|-
|| 13 || 14 || 13 || 15 || 12
|}
== Weapon Proficiencies ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Dagger'''
|-
|'''Hand Crossbow'''
|-
|}
== Nonweapon Proficiencies ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Blacksmithing (11)'''
|-
|'''Cooking (14)'''
|-
|'''Healing (8)'''
|-
|'''Herbalism (12)'''
|-
|'''Swimming (11)'''
|-
|'''Tumbling (17)'''
|-
|}

== Thieves Abilities ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
| '''Pick Pockets''' || 15% + 5% (DEX) + 5% (no armor) =25% ||
|-
| '''Open Locks''' || 30% + 10% (DEX) = 50% ||
|-
| '''Find/Remove Traps''' || 40% ||
|-
| '''Move Silently''' || 30% + 5% (DEX) + 10% (no armor) = 45% || Movement reduced to 1/3
|-
| '''Hide in Shadows''' || 35% + 5% (DEX) + 5% (no armor) = 45% ||
|-
| '''Detect Noise''' || 18% ||
|-
| '''Climb Walls''' || 60% + 10% (no armor) = 70% ||
|-
| '''Read Languages''' || 2% ||
|-
|}

== Encumbrance ==
{| class="wikitable"
|'''Unencumbered'''
|'''''0-40'''''
|-
|'''Light'''
|'''''41-58'''''
|-
|'''Moderate'''
|'''''59-76'''''
|-
|'''Heavy'''
|'''''77-96'''''
|-
|'''Severe'''
|'''''97-110'''''
|-
|}
== Equipment ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Clothing'''
|'''''5 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Leather Armor'''
|'''15 lbs'''
|-
|'''Backpack'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Small pouch'''
|'''''0.5 lbs'''''
|-
|'''10 gold coins'''
|'''''*'''''
|-
|'''Hand Crossbow'''
|'''''3 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Dagger (x2)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|-style="color: blue"
|'''Dwarven made Dagger (x2)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Quiver'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Quarrels (20)'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Hooded Lantern'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''3 Flasks of Lantern Oil'''
|'''''3 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Flint & Steel'''
|'''''*'''''
|-
|'''Dry Rations (3 days)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Waterskin'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Sewing Needle'''
|'''''*'''''
|-
|'''Thieves Picks'''
|'''''1 lb'''''
|-
|'''Vial of Perfume'''
|'''''*'''''
|-
|'''Whetstone'''
|'''''1 lb'''''
|-
|'''Fine Quality Deck of Playing Cards'''
|'''''*'''''
|-
|'''Total'''
|'''''41 lbs'''''
|-
|}

== Equipment Stored in Rooms ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Numerous Changes of Clothing'''
|-
|'''Set of Obsidian Dice With Bone Pips'''
|-
|'''Hooded Fine Fur Cloak'''
|-
|'''Fine Women's Clothing from Veniri'''
|-
|'''Urn of Saakh Oil'''
|-
|'''10 gold coins stored in Fariya's locked chest'''
|-
|'''20 gold in letters of credit stored in Fariya's locked chest'''
|-
|'''100 gold worth of gems stored in Fariya's locked chest'''
|-
|}

== Languages ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Common'''
|-
|'''Vox Mercanti'''
|-
|'''Thieves' Cant'''
|-
|}

== Background ==
[[File:ZZDarithe2L.jpg]]

She stared at her reflection in the mirror for a long time. The red hair would take some getting used to. The shorn locks of her previously long tresses less so, as that frequently just got in the way of her skills. No sign of her Da's dark hair now, the only part she truly inherited from him. Just as the freckles across her pale features came from her mother. Her hands were near as red as the hair stained from the dye. Somehow that seemed apt. She scrubbed the dye from her hands in the washbasin. At least that stain could be washed away...

Darithe Thorne was her name now. Once she had been Meav Delte, the daughter of a blacksmith in the town of Belies-ar-Weil, located mid-way along the coast of Athervon between Avis Inia, the seat of the Kingdom, to the North, and Avis Armois, the oldest and most far-flung of the Kingdom’s major cities, to the South. Her father was as dumb as the anvil he pounded everyday, but he was kind and had a ready smile, and was gentle with his young daughters Meav and her sister Vari. He did his best to support his two daughters on what little income he could make from shoeing horses and hammering out crude nails to build the rickety buildings in this poor section of town.

Their mother passed from a fever when Vari was five. Meav was three years older and did the best she could for her Da and young sister. She took care of them and when money was short she did what she had to for a few more coins to add to their larder. She helped in the smithy as much as she could and took care of delivering special orders for her Da. She found with a pretty smile she would sometimes even get tips, not much, but everything helped. She was poor but she was bright. She quickly picked up some smithing skills from her father and taught herself to read and write, which was rare for the people from her part of town.

Belis-ar-Weil was neither particularly large nor particularly small; but it held a strategic location at the mouth of the Aumine river, which carried the riches of the Kingdom’s interior to the sea, where it was then sent to either Avis Inia or Avis Armois for final destinations. Due to this vast amount of traffic in lucrative goods, the town had more than its fair share of criminal element, intent on skimming some of the proceeds for themselves. While there were a number of gangs that operated around the town, all paid their respects to the notorious Five Points Brotherhood. The Brotherhood was a huge network of Thieves that had bases over nearly the entire Kingdom – at least, that was what was said. Based out of the Capitol, The Brotherhood controlled virtually all the illegal traffic flowing on the land route between Avis Inia and Tras Veniri, and had a heavy hand in distribution to points beyond inside of Athervon. No one of sane mind crossed The Brotherhood – their operatives and informants were everywhere, and they did not hesitate to deal with problems that threatened their profitable position.

Meav had never planned to join them. To the contrary, she had always steered clear of the young gangs of new recruits, and ignored their catcalls, offers, and sometimes threats as she made her deliveries in town – that she could deal with. What really made her pick up her pace was the way one of the older members – a street captain known as Dregs – looked at her. He didn’t seem to be looking at the pretty young woman with leering eyes and lustful sneers like the others. No, Dregs always seemed to be assessing whether she might be useful to him, whether she could be an asset to his operation. His cold gaze watched her every time she passed, but he never said a thing – just gave a slight touch to his cap in greeting after their eyes met, and then turned back to his business.

She choked back a laugh thinking about it now.

She managed to keep things on an even keel until her 17th year. That was the year her Da passed – walking home at night after the neighborhood innkeeper had rewarded him with a few pints for some emergency repairs to some of his stable equipment, he must’ve never seen the horseman, riding at a full gallop along the dark road. She ran out at the sounds and screams to see him lying in the mud, blood beginning to form a small pool around him. The rider never stopped, disappearing into the darkness.

After Da was in the ground, she assessed the situation, and realized something had to give. She didn't see herself or Vari swinging a hammer to make a living. She retched at the thought of some of the things women did for coin near the docks – she would die before that became her fate. Then the faces of the gang captains came to her – that cold gaze, assessing her. Perhaps she could be of use to them.

She had no idea how to initiate a conversation about this, but her mind was made up. She walked directly up to Dregs through the crowd of his young proteges, the blood that was pounding in her ears drowning out their infantile suggestions and insults.

“I need some work.” She blurted it out without even knowing it. She held her breath waiting for him to speak.

For a moment, he didn’t – just looked at her again with the same cold eyes.

Finally, he spoke. “B’out time. Let’s get ya to Fergasse, see what he has fer ya.” His voice was rough, thin, fitting his grizzled appearance perfectly. She realized it was the first time she had ever heard it.

Fergasse was the local Master of The Brotherhood, overseeing their operations in the town. If he had ever been a working thief, there was no way to tell now – he was a very fat man, who spent more time overseeing account books than picking pockets. But he was the ordained boss for The Brotherhood in town, and he did not need to worry about his girth – there were plenty of fit gang members who would take care of any of Fergasse’s problems.

Dregs brought her to a warehouse by the docks, one she had always been warned to stay away from by Ma & Da. She had to pass by room after room of intimidating looking men, and one even patted her down and felt her up making sure she didn’t have a weapon. Finally she was in Fergasse’s “office”, a large room filled with boxes, bags, sacks, barrels, crates, chests, and every manner of thing used to transport goods – as well as piles and piles of leather-bound books: ship’s journals, logs, account books, inventory scrolls. Fergasse supervised a small army of men moving things in and out while another army was copying and modifying books, writing so fast they were sweating. Fergasse’s eye flicked to her after Dreg was able to whisper something in his ear, and he spat something back she didn’t hear, before he turned back to conducting the mayhem in the room.

Dreg took her back to her place and told her how it would work. She would start just doing "special deliveries" and watching for the town guard who's eyes were easily distracted by a lithe darkhaired lass. It was easy work for the most part, and she was good at it – folks knew her Da was gone, and men circled her like buzzards if she gave them the chance, wanting to be there when her finances or her will finally broke.

But those tasks weren't enough to support her and Vari; soon, she was pestering Dreg for bigger opportunity. Happy with her performance, he graduated her to more advanced work for the guild.

She took to the tasks like a bird to the air. It excited her. It gave her freedom from the drudgery of the smithy. And the coins to be had (earned?) were greater than she had ever seen. Though just eighteen by then, she quickly became a rising star in the guild. Soon enough, Dregs re-introduced her to Fergasse at the Bosses’ request. Fergasse wanted to have a look at this new recruit who was making him so much money.

As Fergasse spoke about the impression she had made, and that if she played her cards right she could have a bright future in The Brotherhood, she noticed a young man lounging back on a pile of grain sacks, staring at her with dark, hooded eyes. She had seen that stare before, but she was not that person anymore. She ignored the look, her lip curling into a mild sneer to express her disinterest.

After the meeting was over, she asked Dregs about the man. “Eh? On the sacks? Ach, thas Dany – Fergasse’s boyo. What ye’want wit him? Oh ya? Fancy’s ya does he? Well, ya be careful lass – that boyo’s got more problems than the Emperor of Jhon, he does – and he’ll make’em your problems if ya let ‘im. Best steer clear of ‘im, stay focused on yer work. He’s trouble if you like ‘im – but he’s also trouble if ya don’t, if ya take my meaning. Don’t make Fergasse choose between yas.”

She learned from others that Dany was an addict – he smoked the seeds from the Jhonian mazak plant, which generated the dark circles around his eyes and the vacant stare.

She heeded Dregs advice and made every attempt to avoid Dany. But to her dismay, Dany had other ideas. Apparently infatuated by her, he began hanging out in her neighborhood, repeatedly offering to buy her dinner, drinks, or to join him in a harmless smoke. She rebuffed him – gently, carefully, always saying that she had something to get done for his father. More than once she had to signal Dregs to intercept them and provide an escape. She began to stay away from the house more – Vari had enough money and was getting old enough to take care of herself and most of the chores at home while Meav earned their keep.

She used the time to hone her skills every day and the exciting life on the edge became like a drug to her. What started as a tactic to avoid Dany soon became a need to spend more and more time finding ways to complete the jobs allotted to her in the most impressive way possible. Vari was left to fend for herself as Meav was gone more and more, but Meav told herself Vari would have to learn to manage the home at some point, which assuaged her guilt at not being home with her sister.

One night, exhausted from nearly two solid days of casing a new ship that had arrived, she came home and found Vari in her bed – with Dany lying next to her. From the look of it, they had apparently been celebrating for days – there were clothes and half-eaten meals everywhere. The bitter-sweet smell of mazak hit her nostrils, and she noticed several pipes were strewn about, full of the dark tarry residue the drug leaves.

Meav was incensed – Vari had ruined everything! Now what was she going to do?

She carefully stepped over Dany and shook Vari, whispering for her to get up. But the girl remained prone, motionless. She shook harder, finally pulling her hard and flipping her over – to recoil in horror as the wide, sightless eyes of her sister stared back at her from dark hooded sockets, the open lips tinged blue.

Meav stumbled back against the wall, her heart pounding. She couldn’t think. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

She started as Dany mumbled something and rolled over onto one arm, lifting himself up on his elbow. His heavy-lidded eyes revealed he was still in the throes of the drug. He reached out to Vari, touching the dead girls arm. A minute later, a giggle erupted from him.

“I told…told you. You got to…to work up to…to it. Can’t be doing what I do. Sil…silly…girl.”

He flopped down, finally noticing Meav. “Oh…hey. You’re here. That’s great – I really was interested in you more anyway.” His eyes fluttered closed again, and he resumed gently snoring.

That day Meav picked up her Da's hammer for the last time in doing so ended her time in the guild, and guildmaster's son's life.

She looked once more in the mirror. Meav was dead, and Darithe reborn from her ashes. A dark phoenix for sure. She gathered her meager belongs and wrapped herself in her father oversized cloak and started outside. She glanced once more back at the smithy and then was gone. She walked on leaving the past behind.

A new town then, one where she is unknown. A place to disappear. The further from The Brotherhood, the better. Getting on a ship was too dangerous – The Brotherhood controlled the river and sea trade, she would be seen and her suspicious departure noted, if not prevented altogether. No, she had to leave by land.

In the dark of night, she stole down the South Road, which followed the coast all the way to Avis Armois. Far from the Capitol, perhaps there she could shake pursuit long enough to come up with a more long-term plan. The Mire Queen now beckoned to her which seemed appropriate somehow having become mired herself. As she walked she whispered a soft prayer (to whom she did not know) for forgiveness. But in her heart she knew forgiveness was reserved for those who deserved it.

The best steel doesn't always shine the brightest. Her da had taught her that and she thought of him as she walked south towards Avis Armois, the greatcloak wrapped around her due to the cool of the morn. She could still faintly smell him on it and those smells were comforting, almost as if he still embraced her in the folds of that big cloak. She breathed them in and smiled thinking of him, the pungent smell of the corrosive oils he used to clean his tools were there, and the pleasant smokey aroma of the coals of his forge still clung to the threads, and the musky smell of sweat after a good hard day of honest... She stopped abruptly and bit her lower lip. She sighed, the past is written. She could not change it no matter how much she wished to. But the future is a blank page. And that she could write.

She spotted a small family going in the opposite direction approaching, a young man, his pretty wife and two small girls tugging at their parent's cloaks. She smiled and nodded to them as their paths crossed. Her mind calling back memories of her own youth and her sister Vari. She turned and caught back up to the family offering them most of her fruit. It wouldn't last long and she knew she couldn't eat it all before it went bad. She kept a stem of grapes for herself and waved to them as they continued their journey farther away from her. She returned to the path she had chosen and walked on alone.

Landsoftheblacksea:Main Page/players/danithe thorne

2021-01-22T00:21:37Z

Darithe: /* Equipment */

[[ Landsoftheblacksea:Main_Page#Player_Characters | '''Return to the Main Page''']]

A woman running from her past and perhaps seeking redemption.

[[File:ZZDarithe2C.jpg | thumb]]

== Basics ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Character Name !! Player Name !! Race !! Class !! Alignment !! AC !! Experience !! Hit Points
|-
| Darithe Thorne (Meav Delte) || Desconocida || Human || Thief 3 || Chaotic Good || 7 (With Dex Adj) || 1250|| 11
|-
|}

== Physical ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Age !! Height !! Weight !! Eye Colour !! Hair Colour
|-
| 19 || 5'6" || 110 lbs || Light Green || Black
|}

== Stats ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:left"
|-
| Strength || '''11''' || ''Wt. Allowance: 40#; Max Press: 115#; Open Doors: 6; Bend Bars: 2%''
|-
| Dexterity || '''17''' || ''+2 React. Adj; +2 Missile Att. Adj.; -3 Def. Adj.''
|-
| Constitution || '''12''' || ''Sys. Shock: 80%; Res. Surv: 85%''
|-
| Intelligence || '''14''' || ''#Lang: 4''
|-
| Wisdom || '''10''' ||
|-
| Charisma || '''16''' || ''Mx. Hench: 8; Loy. Base: +4; Reac. Adj.: +5''
|-
|}

+10% XP Bonus

== Saving Throws ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Paralyzation/Poison/Death Magic !! Rod, Staff or Wand !! Petrification or Plymorph !! Breath Weapon !! Spell
|-
|| 13 || 14 || 13 || 15 || 12
|}
== Weapon Proficiencies ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Dagger'''
|-
|'''Hand Crossbow'''
|-
|}
== Nonweapon Proficiencies ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Blacksmithing (11)'''
|-
|'''Cooking (14)'''
|-
|'''Healing (8)'''
|-
|'''Herbalism (12)'''
|-
|'''Swimming (11)'''
|-
|'''Tumbling (17)'''
|-
|}

== Thieves Abilities ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
| '''Pick Pockets''' || 15% + 5% (DEX) + 5% (no armor) =25% ||
|-
| '''Open Locks''' || 30% + 10% (DEX) = 50% ||
|-
| '''Find/Remove Traps''' || 40% ||
|-
| '''Move Silently''' || 30% + 5% (DEX) + 10% (no armor) = 45% || Movement reduced to 1/3
|-
| '''Hide in Shadows''' || 35% + 5% (DEX) + 5% (no armor) = 45% ||
|-
| '''Detect Noise''' || 18% ||
|-
| '''Climb Walls''' || 60% + 10% (no armor) = 70% ||
|-
| '''Read Languages''' || 2% ||
|-
|}

== Encumbrance ==
{| class="wikitable"
|'''Unencumbered'''
|'''''0-40'''''
|-
|'''Light'''
|'''''41-58'''''
|-
|'''Moderate'''
|'''''59-76'''''
|-
|'''Heavy'''
|'''''77-96'''''
|-
|'''Severe'''
|'''''97-110'''''
|-
|}
== Equipment ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Clothing'''
|'''''5 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Leather Armor'''
|'''15 lbs'''
|-
|'''Backpack'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Small pouch'''
|'''''0.5 lbs'''''
|-
|'''10 gold coins'''
|'''''*'''''
|-
|'''Hand Crossbow'''
|'''''3 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Dagger (x2)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|-style="color: blue"
|'''Dwarven made Dagger (x2)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Quiver'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Quarrels (20)'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Hooded Lantern'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''3 Flasks of Lantern Oil'''
|'''''3 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Flint & Steel'''
|'''''*'''''
|-
|'''Dry Rations (3 days)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Waterskin'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Sewing Needle'''
|'''''*'''''
|-
|'''Thieves Picks'''
|'''''1 lb'''''
|-
|'''Vial of Perfume'''
|'''''*'''''
|-
|'''Whetstone'''
|'''''1 lb'''''
|-
|'''Fine Quality Deck of Playing Cards'''
|'''''*'''''
|-
|'''Total'''
|'''''41 lbs'''''
|-
|}

== Equipment Stored in Rooms ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Numerous Changes of Clothing'''
|-
|'''Set of Obsidian Dice With Bone Pips'''
|-
|'''Hooded Fine Fur Cloak'''
|-
|'''Fine Women's Clothing from Veniri'''
|-
|'''Urn of Saakh Oil'''
|-
|}

== Languages ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Common'''
|-
|'''Vox Mercanti'''
|-
|'''Thieves' Cant'''
|-
|}

== Background ==
[[File:ZZDarithe2L.jpg]]

She stared at her reflection in the mirror for a long time. The red hair would take some getting used to. The shorn locks of her previously long tresses less so, as that frequently just got in the way of her skills. No sign of her Da's dark hair now, the only part she truly inherited from him. Just as the freckles across her pale features came from her mother. Her hands were near as red as the hair stained from the dye. Somehow that seemed apt. She scrubbed the dye from her hands in the washbasin. At least that stain could be washed away...

Darithe Thorne was her name now. Once she had been Meav Delte, the daughter of a blacksmith in the town of Belies-ar-Weil, located mid-way along the coast of Athervon between Avis Inia, the seat of the Kingdom, to the North, and Avis Armois, the oldest and most far-flung of the Kingdom’s major cities, to the South. Her father was as dumb as the anvil he pounded everyday, but he was kind and had a ready smile, and was gentle with his young daughters Meav and her sister Vari. He did his best to support his two daughters on what little income he could make from shoeing horses and hammering out crude nails to build the rickety buildings in this poor section of town.

Their mother passed from a fever when Vari was five. Meav was three years older and did the best she could for her Da and young sister. She took care of them and when money was short she did what she had to for a few more coins to add to their larder. She helped in the smithy as much as she could and took care of delivering special orders for her Da. She found with a pretty smile she would sometimes even get tips, not much, but everything helped. She was poor but she was bright. She quickly picked up some smithing skills from her father and taught herself to read and write, which was rare for the people from her part of town.

Belis-ar-Weil was neither particularly large nor particularly small; but it held a strategic location at the mouth of the Aumine river, which carried the riches of the Kingdom’s interior to the sea, where it was then sent to either Avis Inia or Avis Armois for final destinations. Due to this vast amount of traffic in lucrative goods, the town had more than its fair share of criminal element, intent on skimming some of the proceeds for themselves. While there were a number of gangs that operated around the town, all paid their respects to the notorious Five Points Brotherhood. The Brotherhood was a huge network of Thieves that had bases over nearly the entire Kingdom – at least, that was what was said. Based out of the Capitol, The Brotherhood controlled virtually all the illegal traffic flowing on the land route between Avis Inia and Tras Veniri, and had a heavy hand in distribution to points beyond inside of Athervon. No one of sane mind crossed The Brotherhood – their operatives and informants were everywhere, and they did not hesitate to deal with problems that threatened their profitable position.

Meav had never planned to join them. To the contrary, she had always steered clear of the young gangs of new recruits, and ignored their catcalls, offers, and sometimes threats as she made her deliveries in town – that she could deal with. What really made her pick up her pace was the way one of the older members – a street captain known as Dregs – looked at her. He didn’t seem to be looking at the pretty young woman with leering eyes and lustful sneers like the others. No, Dregs always seemed to be assessing whether she might be useful to him, whether she could be an asset to his operation. His cold gaze watched her every time she passed, but he never said a thing – just gave a slight touch to his cap in greeting after their eyes met, and then turned back to his business.

She choked back a laugh thinking about it now.

She managed to keep things on an even keel until her 17th year. That was the year her Da passed – walking home at night after the neighborhood innkeeper had rewarded him with a few pints for some emergency repairs to some of his stable equipment, he must’ve never seen the horseman, riding at a full gallop along the dark road. She ran out at the sounds and screams to see him lying in the mud, blood beginning to form a small pool around him. The rider never stopped, disappearing into the darkness.

After Da was in the ground, she assessed the situation, and realized something had to give. She didn't see herself or Vari swinging a hammer to make a living. She retched at the thought of some of the things women did for coin near the docks – she would die before that became her fate. Then the faces of the gang captains came to her – that cold gaze, assessing her. Perhaps she could be of use to them.

She had no idea how to initiate a conversation about this, but her mind was made up. She walked directly up to Dregs through the crowd of his young proteges, the blood that was pounding in her ears drowning out their infantile suggestions and insults.

“I need some work.” She blurted it out without even knowing it. She held her breath waiting for him to speak.

For a moment, he didn’t – just looked at her again with the same cold eyes.

Finally, he spoke. “B’out time. Let’s get ya to Fergasse, see what he has fer ya.” His voice was rough, thin, fitting his grizzled appearance perfectly. She realized it was the first time she had ever heard it.

Fergasse was the local Master of The Brotherhood, overseeing their operations in the town. If he had ever been a working thief, there was no way to tell now – he was a very fat man, who spent more time overseeing account books than picking pockets. But he was the ordained boss for The Brotherhood in town, and he did not need to worry about his girth – there were plenty of fit gang members who would take care of any of Fergasse’s problems.

Dregs brought her to a warehouse by the docks, one she had always been warned to stay away from by Ma & Da. She had to pass by room after room of intimidating looking men, and one even patted her down and felt her up making sure she didn’t have a weapon. Finally she was in Fergasse’s “office”, a large room filled with boxes, bags, sacks, barrels, crates, chests, and every manner of thing used to transport goods – as well as piles and piles of leather-bound books: ship’s journals, logs, account books, inventory scrolls. Fergasse supervised a small army of men moving things in and out while another army was copying and modifying books, writing so fast they were sweating. Fergasse’s eye flicked to her after Dreg was able to whisper something in his ear, and he spat something back she didn’t hear, before he turned back to conducting the mayhem in the room.

Dreg took her back to her place and told her how it would work. She would start just doing "special deliveries" and watching for the town guard who's eyes were easily distracted by a lithe darkhaired lass. It was easy work for the most part, and she was good at it – folks knew her Da was gone, and men circled her like buzzards if she gave them the chance, wanting to be there when her finances or her will finally broke.

But those tasks weren't enough to support her and Vari; soon, she was pestering Dreg for bigger opportunity. Happy with her performance, he graduated her to more advanced work for the guild.

She took to the tasks like a bird to the air. It excited her. It gave her freedom from the drudgery of the smithy. And the coins to be had (earned?) were greater than she had ever seen. Though just eighteen by then, she quickly became a rising star in the guild. Soon enough, Dregs re-introduced her to Fergasse at the Bosses’ request. Fergasse wanted to have a look at this new recruit who was making him so much money.

As Fergasse spoke about the impression she had made, and that if she played her cards right she could have a bright future in The Brotherhood, she noticed a young man lounging back on a pile of grain sacks, staring at her with dark, hooded eyes. She had seen that stare before, but she was not that person anymore. She ignored the look, her lip curling into a mild sneer to express her disinterest.

After the meeting was over, she asked Dregs about the man. “Eh? On the sacks? Ach, thas Dany – Fergasse’s boyo. What ye’want wit him? Oh ya? Fancy’s ya does he? Well, ya be careful lass – that boyo’s got more problems than the Emperor of Jhon, he does – and he’ll make’em your problems if ya let ‘im. Best steer clear of ‘im, stay focused on yer work. He’s trouble if you like ‘im – but he’s also trouble if ya don’t, if ya take my meaning. Don’t make Fergasse choose between yas.”

She learned from others that Dany was an addict – he smoked the seeds from the Jhonian mazak plant, which generated the dark circles around his eyes and the vacant stare.

She heeded Dregs advice and made every attempt to avoid Dany. But to her dismay, Dany had other ideas. Apparently infatuated by her, he began hanging out in her neighborhood, repeatedly offering to buy her dinner, drinks, or to join him in a harmless smoke. She rebuffed him – gently, carefully, always saying that she had something to get done for his father. More than once she had to signal Dregs to intercept them and provide an escape. She began to stay away from the house more – Vari had enough money and was getting old enough to take care of herself and most of the chores at home while Meav earned their keep.

She used the time to hone her skills every day and the exciting life on the edge became like a drug to her. What started as a tactic to avoid Dany soon became a need to spend more and more time finding ways to complete the jobs allotted to her in the most impressive way possible. Vari was left to fend for herself as Meav was gone more and more, but Meav told herself Vari would have to learn to manage the home at some point, which assuaged her guilt at not being home with her sister.

One night, exhausted from nearly two solid days of casing a new ship that had arrived, she came home and found Vari in her bed – with Dany lying next to her. From the look of it, they had apparently been celebrating for days – there were clothes and half-eaten meals everywhere. The bitter-sweet smell of mazak hit her nostrils, and she noticed several pipes were strewn about, full of the dark tarry residue the drug leaves.

Meav was incensed – Vari had ruined everything! Now what was she going to do?

She carefully stepped over Dany and shook Vari, whispering for her to get up. But the girl remained prone, motionless. She shook harder, finally pulling her hard and flipping her over – to recoil in horror as the wide, sightless eyes of her sister stared back at her from dark hooded sockets, the open lips tinged blue.

Meav stumbled back against the wall, her heart pounding. She couldn’t think. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

She started as Dany mumbled something and rolled over onto one arm, lifting himself up on his elbow. His heavy-lidded eyes revealed he was still in the throes of the drug. He reached out to Vari, touching the dead girls arm. A minute later, a giggle erupted from him.

“I told…told you. You got to…to work up to…to it. Can’t be doing what I do. Sil…silly…girl.”

He flopped down, finally noticing Meav. “Oh…hey. You’re here. That’s great – I really was interested in you more anyway.” His eyes fluttered closed again, and he resumed gently snoring.

That day Meav picked up her Da's hammer for the last time in doing so ended her time in the guild, and guildmaster's son's life.

She looked once more in the mirror. Meav was dead, and Darithe reborn from her ashes. A dark phoenix for sure. She gathered her meager belongs and wrapped herself in her father oversized cloak and started outside. She glanced once more back at the smithy and then was gone. She walked on leaving the past behind.

A new town then, one where she is unknown. A place to disappear. The further from The Brotherhood, the better. Getting on a ship was too dangerous – The Brotherhood controlled the river and sea trade, she would be seen and her suspicious departure noted, if not prevented altogether. No, she had to leave by land.

In the dark of night, she stole down the South Road, which followed the coast all the way to Avis Armois. Far from the Capitol, perhaps there she could shake pursuit long enough to come up with a more long-term plan. The Mire Queen now beckoned to her which seemed appropriate somehow having become mired herself. As she walked she whispered a soft prayer (to whom she did not know) for forgiveness. But in her heart she knew forgiveness was reserved for those who deserved it.

The best steel doesn't always shine the brightest. Her da had taught her that and she thought of him as she walked south towards Avis Armois, the greatcloak wrapped around her due to the cool of the morn. She could still faintly smell him on it and those smells were comforting, almost as if he still embraced her in the folds of that big cloak. She breathed them in and smiled thinking of him, the pungent smell of the corrosive oils he used to clean his tools were there, and the pleasant smokey aroma of the coals of his forge still clung to the threads, and the musky smell of sweat after a good hard day of honest... She stopped abruptly and bit her lower lip. She sighed, the past is written. She could not change it no matter how much she wished to. But the future is a blank page. And that she could write.

She spotted a small family going in the opposite direction approaching, a young man, his pretty wife and two small girls tugging at their parent's cloaks. She smiled and nodded to them as their paths crossed. Her mind calling back memories of her own youth and her sister Vari. She turned and caught back up to the family offering them most of her fruit. It wouldn't last long and she knew she couldn't eat it all before it went bad. She kept a stem of grapes for herself and waved to them as they continued their journey farther away from her. She returned to the path she had chosen and walked on alone.

Landsoftheblacksea:Main Page

2021-01-22T00:19:20Z

Darithe: /* Active */

== Introduction ==
For over 100 years, peace has reigned in the Kingdom of Athervon. After throwing off the yoke of the blasphemous Jhonian invaders from across the Black Sea, the Line of Kings was restored, and the rightful rulers of the Kingdom took their place upon the Throne. The Holy Orders of the Church of Il Matio, The Father, were of course instrumental in the struggle, and upon this ascension to the throne, the King declared the Holy Faiths as the state religion. Everywhere one travels in the kingdom, pre-occupation temples as well as the mosques devoted to the heretical worship of the Jhonian God, A’Salam, have been or are being converted to cathedrals and churches for practice of the Holy Faith, to spread the good word.

Most recently, the unruly and barbaric clans to the northeast have finally agreed to align themselves to His Highness, pledging their allegiance to him, and forming the Northern Protectorate of Athervon. And while other tribes and clans further north yet still remain wild and untamed, no doubt they will see the light of the Holy Faith in time – or will be civilized at the point of the lances of the Order of the Flowering Cross if they cannot. Other lands that had been subjugated by the Jhonian Emperor’s forces have also begun to rise against their oppressors – far away to the East, Iruzhin’s Tsar is the latest in a string of rebellions to successfully overthrow the Jhonian Emperor’s yoke. But the Empire of the Amir-al-Sultan’s was vast, and he yet still wields more power than any other ruler in the lands.

It is true that in the aftermath of the occupation, there were reprisals against those unfortunate Jhonian and Issyrian settlers who were unable to flee as their hold on the Kingdom was broken. But blood cools with time, and while the remaining pockets who descended from these unfortunates will always be second-class citizens within the Kingdom, they are generally left alone to their own business so long as they make no trouble. Of course, only the Holy Faith can be openly practiced; but the royal administration now rarely prosecutes the minorities of the realm so long as they keep their foreign ways out of sight of the populace. They far prefer to look the other way as coins are dropped into the royal coffers than incur the expense of trials and executions.

The impact of this permissiveness has even extended beyond humans. Gnomish caravans have been a regular appearance for over two generations, making circuits around the countryside peddling goods and offering their services as tinkerers, craftsmen, and entertainers before picking up and moving on to the next town. There have more recently been sightings of Dwarven emissaries on the roads again – a rarity that no one living has seen, given that the falling out between the King of the House of Fyldhrm and the King of Athervon occurred well before the Jhonian occupation. Elves are still a rarity, they too having retreated to their hidden settlements within the Thornwood and the snow-capped mountains to its north, and ensuring that men who entered their realm told stories that caused others to think twice. But as the Holy Faith teaches, the Elven ways were debauched and unchaste in the eyes of The Father, so perhaps this if for the best.

None of this is to say that life is without its tribulations and struggles. Athervon’s historical arch-rival for power, Veniri, the Kingdom of Coin, once again sends its trading ships and caravans out once again to the far-flung limits of a world now free of war, bringing riches to the Merchant Houses and the King that rules them. In the south, the Kingdom of Anida lost control of a number of their vassal lords as a result of the disruptions caused by the Jhonian threat, and the resulting patchwork of city-states and princedoms that now cover the lands there is aptly named the Wild Coast.

And there are always more sinister threats to the King’s peace, of course. To the west, the desolate and dangerous hills and plains of Bakuland and Ûgozh have generated only occasional humanoid raiding parties issuing from their loathsome caverns and unclean settlements, and the King’s reprisals have been swift and crushing. The vast expanse of the marshes and mires of the Dire Fens, blocking off most land routes to southern reaches of the Athernian peninsula, are never without some evil that is ready to prey upon those that stray within its borders – or in some cases, just too close to them.
But all in all, most say this is a good time to be a subject of Athervon. The crop yields are high, few go hungry, the King’s justice is deemed fair and quick, and it is possible to raise a family in peace for the first time in many generations.

Until now.

== [[Landsoftheblacksea:Main_Page/adventures | Adventure Info & Summaries]]==

=== [[Landsoftheblacksea:Main_Page/adventures/one_eyed_kem | One-Eyed Kem]] ===

=== [[Landsoftheblacksea:Main_Page/adventures/true_faith_murders | The True Faith Murders]] ===

== Player Characters ==

=== Active ===

{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Character Name !! Player Name !! Class !! Alignment !! AC !! Max HP !! Current HP !! Max Spells !! Current Spells !! Current Enc !! Funds !! Notes
|-
| [[Landsoftheblacksea:Main_Page/players/violet_damacio | '''Violet d'Amacio''' ]] || [https://forum.rpg.net/index.php?members/potted-plant.24190/ Potted Plant] || Pal 2 || CG || 3 || 17 || 17 || - || - || L/8" || 5 gp || 1 x Lay Hands; 20 x sheaf arrows & 4 days rations remaining;
|-
| [[Landsoftheblacksea:Main_Page/players/danithe_thorne | '''Darithe Thorne''']] || [https://forum.rpg.net/index.php?members/darithe.188293/ Darithe] || Thf 3 || CG || 10 or 7 || 11 || 11 || - || - || U/12" || 20 gp, 0 sp, 0 cp || 20 x quarrels & 3 days rations remaining
|-
| [[Landsoftheblacksea:Main_Page/players/markel_bronik | '''Markel Bronik''' ]] || [https://forum.rpg.net/index.php?members/karl-green.1907/ Karl Green] || Rgr 2 || CG || 7 or 3 || 13 || 13 || - || - || L/8" || -12 gp, 11 sp, 20 cp || 30 x sheaf arrows, 20 x flight arrows, & 24 days rations remaining
|-
| [[Landsoftheblacksea:Main_Page/players/gabriel_malavielle | '''Gabriel Malavieille''' ]] || [https://forum.rpg.net/index.php?members/sam-i-am.17480/ Sam I Am] || Mag 2 || NG || 10 or 6 || 8 || 8 || Mag 3 x 1st || Mag 3 x 1st || L/8" || -49 gp, 11 sp, 7 cp || 1 x 1st must be Invocation; 39 x bullets & 25 days rations remaining
|-
| [[Landsoftheblacksea:Main_Page/players/fariya_mithra_camar | '''Fariya Mithra Camar''' ]] || [https://forum.rpg.net/index.php?members/darklin.193579/ Darklin] || Ftr 1/Mag 1/Clr 2 || LG || 10 (6) || 8 || 8 || Mag 1 x 1st/Clr 4 x 1st || Mag 1 x 1st/Clr 4 x 1st || U/12" || 0 gp, 9 sp, 8 cp || 57 sheaf arrows & 3 days rations remaining; Armor last until 10 hp damage received
|-
| [[Landsoftheblacksea:Main_Page/players/yancy_blue | '''Yancy Blue''' ]] || [https://forum.rpg.net/index.php?members/brahnamin.70442/ brahnamin] || B 2 || NG || 7 || 9 || 9 || 1 Mg x 1st || 1 Mg x 1st || U/"12 || 5 gp, 5 sp, 5 cp || TBD
|-
|}


=== Inactive/Retired ===

=== Deceased ===

== [[Landsoftheblacksea:Main_Page/house_rules | Campaign House Rules]] ==

== [[Landsoftheblacksea:Main_Page/races | Races]] ==

== [[Landsoftheblacksea:Main_Page/religion | Religions]] ==

== [[Landsoftheblacksea:Main_Page/realms | Realms]] ==

== [[Landsoftheblacksea:Main_Page/geography | Geography]] ==

== [[Landsoftheblacksea:Main_page/organizations | Organizations]] ==

== [[Landsoftheblacksea:Main_page/languages | Languages]] ==

== [[Landsoftheblacksea:Main_page/time_calendars | Time & Calendars]] ==

Landsoftheblacksea:Main Page

2021-01-22T00:17:53Z

Darithe: /* Active */

== Introduction ==
For over 100 years, peace has reigned in the Kingdom of Athervon. After throwing off the yoke of the blasphemous Jhonian invaders from across the Black Sea, the Line of Kings was restored, and the rightful rulers of the Kingdom took their place upon the Throne. The Holy Orders of the Church of Il Matio, The Father, were of course instrumental in the struggle, and upon this ascension to the throne, the King declared the Holy Faiths as the state religion. Everywhere one travels in the kingdom, pre-occupation temples as well as the mosques devoted to the heretical worship of the Jhonian God, A’Salam, have been or are being converted to cathedrals and churches for practice of the Holy Faith, to spread the good word.

Most recently, the unruly and barbaric clans to the northeast have finally agreed to align themselves to His Highness, pledging their allegiance to him, and forming the Northern Protectorate of Athervon. And while other tribes and clans further north yet still remain wild and untamed, no doubt they will see the light of the Holy Faith in time – or will be civilized at the point of the lances of the Order of the Flowering Cross if they cannot. Other lands that had been subjugated by the Jhonian Emperor’s forces have also begun to rise against their oppressors – far away to the East, Iruzhin’s Tsar is the latest in a string of rebellions to successfully overthrow the Jhonian Emperor’s yoke. But the Empire of the Amir-al-Sultan’s was vast, and he yet still wields more power than any other ruler in the lands.

It is true that in the aftermath of the occupation, there were reprisals against those unfortunate Jhonian and Issyrian settlers who were unable to flee as their hold on the Kingdom was broken. But blood cools with time, and while the remaining pockets who descended from these unfortunates will always be second-class citizens within the Kingdom, they are generally left alone to their own business so long as they make no trouble. Of course, only the Holy Faith can be openly practiced; but the royal administration now rarely prosecutes the minorities of the realm so long as they keep their foreign ways out of sight of the populace. They far prefer to look the other way as coins are dropped into the royal coffers than incur the expense of trials and executions.

The impact of this permissiveness has even extended beyond humans. Gnomish caravans have been a regular appearance for over two generations, making circuits around the countryside peddling goods and offering their services as tinkerers, craftsmen, and entertainers before picking up and moving on to the next town. There have more recently been sightings of Dwarven emissaries on the roads again – a rarity that no one living has seen, given that the falling out between the King of the House of Fyldhrm and the King of Athervon occurred well before the Jhonian occupation. Elves are still a rarity, they too having retreated to their hidden settlements within the Thornwood and the snow-capped mountains to its north, and ensuring that men who entered their realm told stories that caused others to think twice. But as the Holy Faith teaches, the Elven ways were debauched and unchaste in the eyes of The Father, so perhaps this if for the best.

None of this is to say that life is without its tribulations and struggles. Athervon’s historical arch-rival for power, Veniri, the Kingdom of Coin, once again sends its trading ships and caravans out once again to the far-flung limits of a world now free of war, bringing riches to the Merchant Houses and the King that rules them. In the south, the Kingdom of Anida lost control of a number of their vassal lords as a result of the disruptions caused by the Jhonian threat, and the resulting patchwork of city-states and princedoms that now cover the lands there is aptly named the Wild Coast.

And there are always more sinister threats to the King’s peace, of course. To the west, the desolate and dangerous hills and plains of Bakuland and Ûgozh have generated only occasional humanoid raiding parties issuing from their loathsome caverns and unclean settlements, and the King’s reprisals have been swift and crushing. The vast expanse of the marshes and mires of the Dire Fens, blocking off most land routes to southern reaches of the Athernian peninsula, are never without some evil that is ready to prey upon those that stray within its borders – or in some cases, just too close to them.
But all in all, most say this is a good time to be a subject of Athervon. The crop yields are high, few go hungry, the King’s justice is deemed fair and quick, and it is possible to raise a family in peace for the first time in many generations.

Until now.

== [[Landsoftheblacksea:Main_Page/adventures | Adventure Info & Summaries]]==

=== [[Landsoftheblacksea:Main_Page/adventures/one_eyed_kem | One-Eyed Kem]] ===

=== [[Landsoftheblacksea:Main_Page/adventures/true_faith_murders | The True Faith Murders]] ===

== Player Characters ==

=== Active ===

{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Character Name !! Player Name !! Class !! Alignment !! AC !! Max HP !! Current HP !! Max Spells !! Current Spells !! Current Enc !! Funds !! Notes
|-
| [[Landsoftheblacksea:Main_Page/players/violet_damacio | '''Violet d'Amacio''' ]] || [https://forum.rpg.net/index.php?members/potted-plant.24190/ Potted Plant] || Pal 2 || CG || 3 || 17 || 17 || - || - || L/8" || 5 gp || 1 x Lay Hands; 20 x sheaf arrows & 4 days rations remaining;
|-
| [[Landsoftheblacksea:Main_Page/players/danithe_thorne | '''Darithe Thorne''']] || [https://forum.rpg.net/index.php?members/darithe.188293/ Darithe] || Thf 3 || CG || 10 or 7 || 11 || 11 || - || - || U/12" || 9 gp, 0 sp, 43 cp || 17 x quarrels & 3 days rations remaining
|-
| [[Landsoftheblacksea:Main_Page/players/markel_bronik | '''Markel Bronik''' ]] || [https://forum.rpg.net/index.php?members/karl-green.1907/ Karl Green] || Rgr 2 || CG || 7 or 3 || 13 || 13 || - || - || L/8" || -12 gp, 11 sp, 20 cp || 30 x sheaf arrows, 20 x flight arrows, & 24 days rations remaining
|-
| [[Landsoftheblacksea:Main_Page/players/gabriel_malavielle | '''Gabriel Malavieille''' ]] || [https://forum.rpg.net/index.php?members/sam-i-am.17480/ Sam I Am] || Mag 2 || NG || 10 or 6 || 8 || 8 || Mag 3 x 1st || Mag 3 x 1st || L/8" || -49 gp, 11 sp, 7 cp || 1 x 1st must be Invocation; 39 x bullets & 25 days rations remaining
|-
| [[Landsoftheblacksea:Main_Page/players/fariya_mithra_camar | '''Fariya Mithra Camar''' ]] || [https://forum.rpg.net/index.php?members/darklin.193579/ Darklin] || Ftr 1/Mag 1/Clr 2 || LG || 10 (6) || 8 || 8 || Mag 1 x 1st/Clr 4 x 1st || Mag 1 x 1st/Clr 4 x 1st || U/12" || 0 gp, 9 sp, 8 cp || 57 sheaf arrows & 3 days rations remaining; Armor last until 10 hp damage received
|-
| [[Landsoftheblacksea:Main_Page/players/yancy_blue | '''Yancy Blue''' ]] || [https://forum.rpg.net/index.php?members/brahnamin.70442/ brahnamin] || B 2 || NG || 7 || 9 || 9 || 1 Mg x 1st || 1 Mg x 1st || U/"12 || 5 gp, 5 sp, 5 cp || TBD
|-
|}


=== Inactive/Retired ===

=== Deceased ===

== [[Landsoftheblacksea:Main_Page/house_rules | Campaign House Rules]] ==

== [[Landsoftheblacksea:Main_Page/races | Races]] ==

== [[Landsoftheblacksea:Main_Page/religion | Religions]] ==

== [[Landsoftheblacksea:Main_Page/realms | Realms]] ==

== [[Landsoftheblacksea:Main_Page/geography | Geography]] ==

== [[Landsoftheblacksea:Main_page/organizations | Organizations]] ==

== [[Landsoftheblacksea:Main_page/languages | Languages]] ==

== [[Landsoftheblacksea:Main_page/time_calendars | Time & Calendars]] ==

Landsoftheblacksea:Main Page

2021-01-22T00:16:52Z

Darithe: /* Active */

== Introduction ==
For over 100 years, peace has reigned in the Kingdom of Athervon. After throwing off the yoke of the blasphemous Jhonian invaders from across the Black Sea, the Line of Kings was restored, and the rightful rulers of the Kingdom took their place upon the Throne. The Holy Orders of the Church of Il Matio, The Father, were of course instrumental in the struggle, and upon this ascension to the throne, the King declared the Holy Faiths as the state religion. Everywhere one travels in the kingdom, pre-occupation temples as well as the mosques devoted to the heretical worship of the Jhonian God, A’Salam, have been or are being converted to cathedrals and churches for practice of the Holy Faith, to spread the good word.

Most recently, the unruly and barbaric clans to the northeast have finally agreed to align themselves to His Highness, pledging their allegiance to him, and forming the Northern Protectorate of Athervon. And while other tribes and clans further north yet still remain wild and untamed, no doubt they will see the light of the Holy Faith in time – or will be civilized at the point of the lances of the Order of the Flowering Cross if they cannot. Other lands that had been subjugated by the Jhonian Emperor’s forces have also begun to rise against their oppressors – far away to the East, Iruzhin’s Tsar is the latest in a string of rebellions to successfully overthrow the Jhonian Emperor’s yoke. But the Empire of the Amir-al-Sultan’s was vast, and he yet still wields more power than any other ruler in the lands.

It is true that in the aftermath of the occupation, there were reprisals against those unfortunate Jhonian and Issyrian settlers who were unable to flee as their hold on the Kingdom was broken. But blood cools with time, and while the remaining pockets who descended from these unfortunates will always be second-class citizens within the Kingdom, they are generally left alone to their own business so long as they make no trouble. Of course, only the Holy Faith can be openly practiced; but the royal administration now rarely prosecutes the minorities of the realm so long as they keep their foreign ways out of sight of the populace. They far prefer to look the other way as coins are dropped into the royal coffers than incur the expense of trials and executions.

The impact of this permissiveness has even extended beyond humans. Gnomish caravans have been a regular appearance for over two generations, making circuits around the countryside peddling goods and offering their services as tinkerers, craftsmen, and entertainers before picking up and moving on to the next town. There have more recently been sightings of Dwarven emissaries on the roads again – a rarity that no one living has seen, given that the falling out between the King of the House of Fyldhrm and the King of Athervon occurred well before the Jhonian occupation. Elves are still a rarity, they too having retreated to their hidden settlements within the Thornwood and the snow-capped mountains to its north, and ensuring that men who entered their realm told stories that caused others to think twice. But as the Holy Faith teaches, the Elven ways were debauched and unchaste in the eyes of The Father, so perhaps this if for the best.

None of this is to say that life is without its tribulations and struggles. Athervon’s historical arch-rival for power, Veniri, the Kingdom of Coin, once again sends its trading ships and caravans out once again to the far-flung limits of a world now free of war, bringing riches to the Merchant Houses and the King that rules them. In the south, the Kingdom of Anida lost control of a number of their vassal lords as a result of the disruptions caused by the Jhonian threat, and the resulting patchwork of city-states and princedoms that now cover the lands there is aptly named the Wild Coast.

And there are always more sinister threats to the King’s peace, of course. To the west, the desolate and dangerous hills and plains of Bakuland and Ûgozh have generated only occasional humanoid raiding parties issuing from their loathsome caverns and unclean settlements, and the King’s reprisals have been swift and crushing. The vast expanse of the marshes and mires of the Dire Fens, blocking off most land routes to southern reaches of the Athernian peninsula, are never without some evil that is ready to prey upon those that stray within its borders – or in some cases, just too close to them.
But all in all, most say this is a good time to be a subject of Athervon. The crop yields are high, few go hungry, the King’s justice is deemed fair and quick, and it is possible to raise a family in peace for the first time in many generations.

Until now.

== [[Landsoftheblacksea:Main_Page/adventures | Adventure Info & Summaries]]==

=== [[Landsoftheblacksea:Main_Page/adventures/one_eyed_kem | One-Eyed Kem]] ===

=== [[Landsoftheblacksea:Main_Page/adventures/true_faith_murders | The True Faith Murders]] ===

== Player Characters ==

=== Active ===

{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Character Name !! Player Name !! Class !! Alignment !! AC !! Max HP !! Current HP !! Max Spells !! Current Spells !! Current Enc !! Funds !! Notes
|-
| [[Landsoftheblacksea:Main_Page/players/violet_damacio | '''Violet d'Amacio''' ]] || [https://forum.rpg.net/index.php?members/potted-plant.24190/ Potted Plant] || Pal 2 || CG || 3 || 17 || 17 || - || - || L/8" || 5 gp || 1 x Lay Hands; 20 x sheaf arrows & 4 days rations remaining;
|-
| [[Landsoftheblacksea:Main_Page/players/danithe_thorne | '''Darithe Thorne''']] || [https://forum.rpg.net/index.php?members/darithe.188293/ Darithe] || Thf 3 || CG || 10 or 7 || 8 || 8 || - || - || U/12" || 9 gp, 0 sp, 43 cp || 17 x quarrels & 3 days rations remaining
|-
| [[Landsoftheblacksea:Main_Page/players/markel_bronik | '''Markel Bronik''' ]] || [https://forum.rpg.net/index.php?members/karl-green.1907/ Karl Green] || Rgr 2 || CG || 7 or 3 || 13 || 13 || - || - || L/8" || -12 gp, 11 sp, 20 cp || 30 x sheaf arrows, 20 x flight arrows, & 24 days rations remaining
|-
| [[Landsoftheblacksea:Main_Page/players/gabriel_malavielle | '''Gabriel Malavieille''' ]] || [https://forum.rpg.net/index.php?members/sam-i-am.17480/ Sam I Am] || Mag 2 || NG || 10 or 6 || 8 || 8 || Mag 3 x 1st || Mag 3 x 1st || L/8" || -49 gp, 11 sp, 7 cp || 1 x 1st must be Invocation; 39 x bullets & 25 days rations remaining
|-
| [[Landsoftheblacksea:Main_Page/players/fariya_mithra_camar | '''Fariya Mithra Camar''' ]] || [https://forum.rpg.net/index.php?members/darklin.193579/ Darklin] || Ftr 1/Mag 1/Clr 2 || LG || 10 (6) || 8 || 8 || Mag 1 x 1st/Clr 4 x 1st || Mag 1 x 1st/Clr 4 x 1st || U/12" || 0 gp, 9 sp, 8 cp || 57 sheaf arrows & 3 days rations remaining; Armor last until 10 hp damage received
|-
| [[Landsoftheblacksea:Main_Page/players/yancy_blue | '''Yancy Blue''' ]] || [https://forum.rpg.net/index.php?members/brahnamin.70442/ brahnamin] || B 2 || NG || 7 || 9 || 9 || 1 Mg x 1st || 1 Mg x 1st || U/"12 || 5 gp, 5 sp, 5 cp || TBD
|-
|}


=== Inactive/Retired ===

=== Deceased ===

== [[Landsoftheblacksea:Main_Page/house_rules | Campaign House Rules]] ==

== [[Landsoftheblacksea:Main_Page/races | Races]] ==

== [[Landsoftheblacksea:Main_Page/religion | Religions]] ==

== [[Landsoftheblacksea:Main_Page/realms | Realms]] ==

== [[Landsoftheblacksea:Main_Page/geography | Geography]] ==

== [[Landsoftheblacksea:Main_page/organizations | Organizations]] ==

== [[Landsoftheblacksea:Main_page/languages | Languages]] ==

== [[Landsoftheblacksea:Main_page/time_calendars | Time & Calendars]] ==

Landsoftheblacksea:Main Page/players/danithe thorne

2021-01-21T01:07:38Z

Darithe: /* Equipment Stored in Rooms */

[[ Landsoftheblacksea:Main_Page#Player_Characters | '''Return to the Main Page''']]

A woman running from her past and perhaps seeking redemption.

[[File:ZZDarithe2C.jpg | thumb]]

== Basics ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Character Name !! Player Name !! Race !! Class !! Alignment !! AC !! Experience !! Hit Points
|-
| Darithe Thorne (Meav Delte) || Desconocida || Human || Thief 3 || Chaotic Good || 7 (With Dex Adj) || 1250|| 11
|-
|}

== Physical ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Age !! Height !! Weight !! Eye Colour !! Hair Colour
|-
| 19 || 5'6" || 110 lbs || Light Green || Black
|}

== Stats ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:left"
|-
| Strength || '''11''' || ''Wt. Allowance: 40#; Max Press: 115#; Open Doors: 6; Bend Bars: 2%''
|-
| Dexterity || '''17''' || ''+2 React. Adj; +2 Missile Att. Adj.; -3 Def. Adj.''
|-
| Constitution || '''12''' || ''Sys. Shock: 80%; Res. Surv: 85%''
|-
| Intelligence || '''14''' || ''#Lang: 4''
|-
| Wisdom || '''10''' ||
|-
| Charisma || '''16''' || ''Mx. Hench: 8; Loy. Base: +4; Reac. Adj.: +5''
|-
|}

+10% XP Bonus

== Saving Throws ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Paralyzation/Poison/Death Magic !! Rod, Staff or Wand !! Petrification or Plymorph !! Breath Weapon !! Spell
|-
|| 13 || 14 || 13 || 15 || 12
|}
== Weapon Proficiencies ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Dagger'''
|-
|'''Hand Crossbow'''
|-
|}
== Nonweapon Proficiencies ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Blacksmithing (11)'''
|-
|'''Cooking (14)'''
|-
|'''Healing (8)'''
|-
|'''Herbalism (12)'''
|-
|'''Swimming (11)'''
|-
|'''Tumbling (17)'''
|-
|}

== Thieves Abilities ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
| '''Pick Pockets''' || 15% + 5% (DEX) + 5% (no armor) =25% ||
|-
| '''Open Locks''' || 30% + 10% (DEX) = 50% ||
|-
| '''Find/Remove Traps''' || 40% ||
|-
| '''Move Silently''' || 30% + 5% (DEX) + 10% (no armor) = 45% || Movement reduced to 1/3
|-
| '''Hide in Shadows''' || 35% + 5% (DEX) + 5% (no armor) = 45% ||
|-
| '''Detect Noise''' || 18% ||
|-
| '''Climb Walls''' || 60% + 10% (no armor) = 70% ||
|-
| '''Read Languages''' || 2% ||
|-
|}

== Encumbrance ==
{| class="wikitable"
|'''Unencumbered'''
|'''''0-40'''''
|-
|'''Light'''
|'''''41-58'''''
|-
|'''Moderate'''
|'''''59-76'''''
|-
|'''Heavy'''
|'''''77-96'''''
|-
|'''Severe'''
|'''''97-110'''''
|-
|}
== Equipment ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Clothing'''
|'''''5 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Leather Armor'''
|'''15 lbs'''
|-
|'''Backpack'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Small pouch'''
|'''''0.5 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Hand Crossbow'''
|'''''3 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Dagger (x2)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|-style="color: blue"
|'''Dwarven made Dagger (x2)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Quiver'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Quarrels (20)'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Hooded Lantern'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''3 Flasks of Lantern Oil'''
|'''''3 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Flint & Steel'''
|'''''*'''''
|-
|'''Dry Rations (3 days)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Waterskin'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Sewing Needle'''
|'''''*'''''
|-
|'''Thieves Picks'''
|'''''1 lb'''''
|-
|'''Vial of Perfume'''
|'''''*'''''
|-
|'''Whetstone'''
|'''''1 lb'''''
|-
|'''Fine Quality Deck of Playing Cards'''
|'''''*'''''
|-
|'''Total'''
|'''''41 lbs'''''
|-
|}

== Equipment Stored in Rooms ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Numerous Changes of Clothing'''
|-
|'''Set of Obsidian Dice With Bone Pips'''
|-
|'''Hooded Fine Fur Cloak'''
|-
|'''Fine Women's Clothing from Veniri'''
|-
|'''Urn of Saakh Oil'''
|-
|}

== Languages ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Common'''
|-
|'''Vox Mercanti'''
|-
|'''Thieves' Cant'''
|-
|}

== Background ==
[[File:ZZDarithe2L.jpg]]

She stared at her reflection in the mirror for a long time. The red hair would take some getting used to. The shorn locks of her previously long tresses less so, as that frequently just got in the way of her skills. No sign of her Da's dark hair now, the only part she truly inherited from him. Just as the freckles across her pale features came from her mother. Her hands were near as red as the hair stained from the dye. Somehow that seemed apt. She scrubbed the dye from her hands in the washbasin. At least that stain could be washed away...

Darithe Thorne was her name now. Once she had been Meav Delte, the daughter of a blacksmith in the town of Belies-ar-Weil, located mid-way along the coast of Athervon between Avis Inia, the seat of the Kingdom, to the North, and Avis Armois, the oldest and most far-flung of the Kingdom’s major cities, to the South. Her father was as dumb as the anvil he pounded everyday, but he was kind and had a ready smile, and was gentle with his young daughters Meav and her sister Vari. He did his best to support his two daughters on what little income he could make from shoeing horses and hammering out crude nails to build the rickety buildings in this poor section of town.

Their mother passed from a fever when Vari was five. Meav was three years older and did the best she could for her Da and young sister. She took care of them and when money was short she did what she had to for a few more coins to add to their larder. She helped in the smithy as much as she could and took care of delivering special orders for her Da. She found with a pretty smile she would sometimes even get tips, not much, but everything helped. She was poor but she was bright. She quickly picked up some smithing skills from her father and taught herself to read and write, which was rare for the people from her part of town.

Belis-ar-Weil was neither particularly large nor particularly small; but it held a strategic location at the mouth of the Aumine river, which carried the riches of the Kingdom’s interior to the sea, where it was then sent to either Avis Inia or Avis Armois for final destinations. Due to this vast amount of traffic in lucrative goods, the town had more than its fair share of criminal element, intent on skimming some of the proceeds for themselves. While there were a number of gangs that operated around the town, all paid their respects to the notorious Five Points Brotherhood. The Brotherhood was a huge network of Thieves that had bases over nearly the entire Kingdom – at least, that was what was said. Based out of the Capitol, The Brotherhood controlled virtually all the illegal traffic flowing on the land route between Avis Inia and Tras Veniri, and had a heavy hand in distribution to points beyond inside of Athervon. No one of sane mind crossed The Brotherhood – their operatives and informants were everywhere, and they did not hesitate to deal with problems that threatened their profitable position.

Meav had never planned to join them. To the contrary, she had always steered clear of the young gangs of new recruits, and ignored their catcalls, offers, and sometimes threats as she made her deliveries in town – that she could deal with. What really made her pick up her pace was the way one of the older members – a street captain known as Dregs – looked at her. He didn’t seem to be looking at the pretty young woman with leering eyes and lustful sneers like the others. No, Dregs always seemed to be assessing whether she might be useful to him, whether she could be an asset to his operation. His cold gaze watched her every time she passed, but he never said a thing – just gave a slight touch to his cap in greeting after their eyes met, and then turned back to his business.

She choked back a laugh thinking about it now.

She managed to keep things on an even keel until her 17th year. That was the year her Da passed – walking home at night after the neighborhood innkeeper had rewarded him with a few pints for some emergency repairs to some of his stable equipment, he must’ve never seen the horseman, riding at a full gallop along the dark road. She ran out at the sounds and screams to see him lying in the mud, blood beginning to form a small pool around him. The rider never stopped, disappearing into the darkness.

After Da was in the ground, she assessed the situation, and realized something had to give. She didn't see herself or Vari swinging a hammer to make a living. She retched at the thought of some of the things women did for coin near the docks – she would die before that became her fate. Then the faces of the gang captains came to her – that cold gaze, assessing her. Perhaps she could be of use to them.

She had no idea how to initiate a conversation about this, but her mind was made up. She walked directly up to Dregs through the crowd of his young proteges, the blood that was pounding in her ears drowning out their infantile suggestions and insults.

“I need some work.” She blurted it out without even knowing it. She held her breath waiting for him to speak.

For a moment, he didn’t – just looked at her again with the same cold eyes.

Finally, he spoke. “B’out time. Let’s get ya to Fergasse, see what he has fer ya.” His voice was rough, thin, fitting his grizzled appearance perfectly. She realized it was the first time she had ever heard it.

Fergasse was the local Master of The Brotherhood, overseeing their operations in the town. If he had ever been a working thief, there was no way to tell now – he was a very fat man, who spent more time overseeing account books than picking pockets. But he was the ordained boss for The Brotherhood in town, and he did not need to worry about his girth – there were plenty of fit gang members who would take care of any of Fergasse’s problems.

Dregs brought her to a warehouse by the docks, one she had always been warned to stay away from by Ma & Da. She had to pass by room after room of intimidating looking men, and one even patted her down and felt her up making sure she didn’t have a weapon. Finally she was in Fergasse’s “office”, a large room filled with boxes, bags, sacks, barrels, crates, chests, and every manner of thing used to transport goods – as well as piles and piles of leather-bound books: ship’s journals, logs, account books, inventory scrolls. Fergasse supervised a small army of men moving things in and out while another army was copying and modifying books, writing so fast they were sweating. Fergasse’s eye flicked to her after Dreg was able to whisper something in his ear, and he spat something back she didn’t hear, before he turned back to conducting the mayhem in the room.

Dreg took her back to her place and told her how it would work. She would start just doing "special deliveries" and watching for the town guard who's eyes were easily distracted by a lithe darkhaired lass. It was easy work for the most part, and she was good at it – folks knew her Da was gone, and men circled her like buzzards if she gave them the chance, wanting to be there when her finances or her will finally broke.

But those tasks weren't enough to support her and Vari; soon, she was pestering Dreg for bigger opportunity. Happy with her performance, he graduated her to more advanced work for the guild.

She took to the tasks like a bird to the air. It excited her. It gave her freedom from the drudgery of the smithy. And the coins to be had (earned?) were greater than she had ever seen. Though just eighteen by then, she quickly became a rising star in the guild. Soon enough, Dregs re-introduced her to Fergasse at the Bosses’ request. Fergasse wanted to have a look at this new recruit who was making him so much money.

As Fergasse spoke about the impression she had made, and that if she played her cards right she could have a bright future in The Brotherhood, she noticed a young man lounging back on a pile of grain sacks, staring at her with dark, hooded eyes. She had seen that stare before, but she was not that person anymore. She ignored the look, her lip curling into a mild sneer to express her disinterest.

After the meeting was over, she asked Dregs about the man. “Eh? On the sacks? Ach, thas Dany – Fergasse’s boyo. What ye’want wit him? Oh ya? Fancy’s ya does he? Well, ya be careful lass – that boyo’s got more problems than the Emperor of Jhon, he does – and he’ll make’em your problems if ya let ‘im. Best steer clear of ‘im, stay focused on yer work. He’s trouble if you like ‘im – but he’s also trouble if ya don’t, if ya take my meaning. Don’t make Fergasse choose between yas.”

She learned from others that Dany was an addict – he smoked the seeds from the Jhonian mazak plant, which generated the dark circles around his eyes and the vacant stare.

She heeded Dregs advice and made every attempt to avoid Dany. But to her dismay, Dany had other ideas. Apparently infatuated by her, he began hanging out in her neighborhood, repeatedly offering to buy her dinner, drinks, or to join him in a harmless smoke. She rebuffed him – gently, carefully, always saying that she had something to get done for his father. More than once she had to signal Dregs to intercept them and provide an escape. She began to stay away from the house more – Vari had enough money and was getting old enough to take care of herself and most of the chores at home while Meav earned their keep.

She used the time to hone her skills every day and the exciting life on the edge became like a drug to her. What started as a tactic to avoid Dany soon became a need to spend more and more time finding ways to complete the jobs allotted to her in the most impressive way possible. Vari was left to fend for herself as Meav was gone more and more, but Meav told herself Vari would have to learn to manage the home at some point, which assuaged her guilt at not being home with her sister.

One night, exhausted from nearly two solid days of casing a new ship that had arrived, she came home and found Vari in her bed – with Dany lying next to her. From the look of it, they had apparently been celebrating for days – there were clothes and half-eaten meals everywhere. The bitter-sweet smell of mazak hit her nostrils, and she noticed several pipes were strewn about, full of the dark tarry residue the drug leaves.

Meav was incensed – Vari had ruined everything! Now what was she going to do?

She carefully stepped over Dany and shook Vari, whispering for her to get up. But the girl remained prone, motionless. She shook harder, finally pulling her hard and flipping her over – to recoil in horror as the wide, sightless eyes of her sister stared back at her from dark hooded sockets, the open lips tinged blue.

Meav stumbled back against the wall, her heart pounding. She couldn’t think. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

She started as Dany mumbled something and rolled over onto one arm, lifting himself up on his elbow. His heavy-lidded eyes revealed he was still in the throes of the drug. He reached out to Vari, touching the dead girls arm. A minute later, a giggle erupted from him.

“I told…told you. You got to…to work up to…to it. Can’t be doing what I do. Sil…silly…girl.”

He flopped down, finally noticing Meav. “Oh…hey. You’re here. That’s great – I really was interested in you more anyway.” His eyes fluttered closed again, and he resumed gently snoring.

That day Meav picked up her Da's hammer for the last time in doing so ended her time in the guild, and guildmaster's son's life.

She looked once more in the mirror. Meav was dead, and Darithe reborn from her ashes. A dark phoenix for sure. She gathered her meager belongs and wrapped herself in her father oversized cloak and started outside. She glanced once more back at the smithy and then was gone. She walked on leaving the past behind.

A new town then, one where she is unknown. A place to disappear. The further from The Brotherhood, the better. Getting on a ship was too dangerous – The Brotherhood controlled the river and sea trade, she would be seen and her suspicious departure noted, if not prevented altogether. No, she had to leave by land.

In the dark of night, she stole down the South Road, which followed the coast all the way to Avis Armois. Far from the Capitol, perhaps there she could shake pursuit long enough to come up with a more long-term plan. The Mire Queen now beckoned to her which seemed appropriate somehow having become mired herself. As she walked she whispered a soft prayer (to whom she did not know) for forgiveness. But in her heart she knew forgiveness was reserved for those who deserved it.

The best steel doesn't always shine the brightest. Her da had taught her that and she thought of him as she walked south towards Avis Armois, the greatcloak wrapped around her due to the cool of the morn. She could still faintly smell him on it and those smells were comforting, almost as if he still embraced her in the folds of that big cloak. She breathed them in and smiled thinking of him, the pungent smell of the corrosive oils he used to clean his tools were there, and the pleasant smokey aroma of the coals of his forge still clung to the threads, and the musky smell of sweat after a good hard day of honest... She stopped abruptly and bit her lower lip. She sighed, the past is written. She could not change it no matter how much she wished to. But the future is a blank page. And that she could write.

She spotted a small family going in the opposite direction approaching, a young man, his pretty wife and two small girls tugging at their parent's cloaks. She smiled and nodded to them as their paths crossed. Her mind calling back memories of her own youth and her sister Vari. She turned and caught back up to the family offering them most of her fruit. It wouldn't last long and she knew she couldn't eat it all before it went bad. She kept a stem of grapes for herself and waved to them as they continued their journey farther away from her. She returned to the path she had chosen and walked on alone.

Landsoftheblacksea:Main Page/players/danithe thorne

2021-01-21T00:54:30Z

Darithe: /* Equipment */

[[ Landsoftheblacksea:Main_Page#Player_Characters | '''Return to the Main Page''']]

A woman running from her past and perhaps seeking redemption.

[[File:ZZDarithe2C.jpg | thumb]]

== Basics ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Character Name !! Player Name !! Race !! Class !! Alignment !! AC !! Experience !! Hit Points
|-
| Darithe Thorne (Meav Delte) || Desconocida || Human || Thief 3 || Chaotic Good || 7 (With Dex Adj) || 1250|| 11
|-
|}

== Physical ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Age !! Height !! Weight !! Eye Colour !! Hair Colour
|-
| 19 || 5'6" || 110 lbs || Light Green || Black
|}

== Stats ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:left"
|-
| Strength || '''11''' || ''Wt. Allowance: 40#; Max Press: 115#; Open Doors: 6; Bend Bars: 2%''
|-
| Dexterity || '''17''' || ''+2 React. Adj; +2 Missile Att. Adj.; -3 Def. Adj.''
|-
| Constitution || '''12''' || ''Sys. Shock: 80%; Res. Surv: 85%''
|-
| Intelligence || '''14''' || ''#Lang: 4''
|-
| Wisdom || '''10''' ||
|-
| Charisma || '''16''' || ''Mx. Hench: 8; Loy. Base: +4; Reac. Adj.: +5''
|-
|}

+10% XP Bonus

== Saving Throws ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Paralyzation/Poison/Death Magic !! Rod, Staff or Wand !! Petrification or Plymorph !! Breath Weapon !! Spell
|-
|| 13 || 14 || 13 || 15 || 12
|}
== Weapon Proficiencies ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Dagger'''
|-
|'''Hand Crossbow'''
|-
|}
== Nonweapon Proficiencies ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Blacksmithing (11)'''
|-
|'''Cooking (14)'''
|-
|'''Healing (8)'''
|-
|'''Herbalism (12)'''
|-
|'''Swimming (11)'''
|-
|'''Tumbling (17)'''
|-
|}

== Thieves Abilities ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
| '''Pick Pockets''' || 15% + 5% (DEX) + 5% (no armor) =25% ||
|-
| '''Open Locks''' || 30% + 10% (DEX) = 50% ||
|-
| '''Find/Remove Traps''' || 40% ||
|-
| '''Move Silently''' || 30% + 5% (DEX) + 10% (no armor) = 45% || Movement reduced to 1/3
|-
| '''Hide in Shadows''' || 35% + 5% (DEX) + 5% (no armor) = 45% ||
|-
| '''Detect Noise''' || 18% ||
|-
| '''Climb Walls''' || 60% + 10% (no armor) = 70% ||
|-
| '''Read Languages''' || 2% ||
|-
|}

== Encumbrance ==
{| class="wikitable"
|'''Unencumbered'''
|'''''0-40'''''
|-
|'''Light'''
|'''''41-58'''''
|-
|'''Moderate'''
|'''''59-76'''''
|-
|'''Heavy'''
|'''''77-96'''''
|-
|'''Severe'''
|'''''97-110'''''
|-
|}
== Equipment ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Clothing'''
|'''''5 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Leather Armor'''
|'''15 lbs'''
|-
|'''Backpack'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Small pouch'''
|'''''0.5 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Hand Crossbow'''
|'''''3 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Dagger (x2)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|-style="color: blue"
|'''Dwarven made Dagger (x2)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Quiver'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Quarrels (20)'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Hooded Lantern'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''3 Flasks of Lantern Oil'''
|'''''3 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Flint & Steel'''
|'''''*'''''
|-
|'''Dry Rations (3 days)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Waterskin'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Sewing Needle'''
|'''''*'''''
|-
|'''Thieves Picks'''
|'''''1 lb'''''
|-
|'''Vial of Perfume'''
|'''''*'''''
|-
|'''Whetstone'''
|'''''1 lb'''''
|-
|'''Fine Quality Deck of Playing Cards'''
|'''''*'''''
|-
|'''Total'''
|'''''41 lbs'''''
|-
|}

== Equipment Stored in Rooms ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Numerous Changes of Clothing'''
|-
|'''Set of Obsidian Dice With Bone Pips'''
|-
|'''Hooded Fine Fur Cloak'''
|-
|'''Fine Women's Clothing from Veniri'''
|-
|}

== Languages ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Common'''
|-
|'''Vox Mercanti'''
|-
|'''Thieves' Cant'''
|-
|}

== Background ==
[[File:ZZDarithe2L.jpg]]

She stared at her reflection in the mirror for a long time. The red hair would take some getting used to. The shorn locks of her previously long tresses less so, as that frequently just got in the way of her skills. No sign of her Da's dark hair now, the only part she truly inherited from him. Just as the freckles across her pale features came from her mother. Her hands were near as red as the hair stained from the dye. Somehow that seemed apt. She scrubbed the dye from her hands in the washbasin. At least that stain could be washed away...

Darithe Thorne was her name now. Once she had been Meav Delte, the daughter of a blacksmith in the town of Belies-ar-Weil, located mid-way along the coast of Athervon between Avis Inia, the seat of the Kingdom, to the North, and Avis Armois, the oldest and most far-flung of the Kingdom’s major cities, to the South. Her father was as dumb as the anvil he pounded everyday, but he was kind and had a ready smile, and was gentle with his young daughters Meav and her sister Vari. He did his best to support his two daughters on what little income he could make from shoeing horses and hammering out crude nails to build the rickety buildings in this poor section of town.

Their mother passed from a fever when Vari was five. Meav was three years older and did the best she could for her Da and young sister. She took care of them and when money was short she did what she had to for a few more coins to add to their larder. She helped in the smithy as much as she could and took care of delivering special orders for her Da. She found with a pretty smile she would sometimes even get tips, not much, but everything helped. She was poor but she was bright. She quickly picked up some smithing skills from her father and taught herself to read and write, which was rare for the people from her part of town.

Belis-ar-Weil was neither particularly large nor particularly small; but it held a strategic location at the mouth of the Aumine river, which carried the riches of the Kingdom’s interior to the sea, where it was then sent to either Avis Inia or Avis Armois for final destinations. Due to this vast amount of traffic in lucrative goods, the town had more than its fair share of criminal element, intent on skimming some of the proceeds for themselves. While there were a number of gangs that operated around the town, all paid their respects to the notorious Five Points Brotherhood. The Brotherhood was a huge network of Thieves that had bases over nearly the entire Kingdom – at least, that was what was said. Based out of the Capitol, The Brotherhood controlled virtually all the illegal traffic flowing on the land route between Avis Inia and Tras Veniri, and had a heavy hand in distribution to points beyond inside of Athervon. No one of sane mind crossed The Brotherhood – their operatives and informants were everywhere, and they did not hesitate to deal with problems that threatened their profitable position.

Meav had never planned to join them. To the contrary, she had always steered clear of the young gangs of new recruits, and ignored their catcalls, offers, and sometimes threats as she made her deliveries in town – that she could deal with. What really made her pick up her pace was the way one of the older members – a street captain known as Dregs – looked at her. He didn’t seem to be looking at the pretty young woman with leering eyes and lustful sneers like the others. No, Dregs always seemed to be assessing whether she might be useful to him, whether she could be an asset to his operation. His cold gaze watched her every time she passed, but he never said a thing – just gave a slight touch to his cap in greeting after their eyes met, and then turned back to his business.

She choked back a laugh thinking about it now.

She managed to keep things on an even keel until her 17th year. That was the year her Da passed – walking home at night after the neighborhood innkeeper had rewarded him with a few pints for some emergency repairs to some of his stable equipment, he must’ve never seen the horseman, riding at a full gallop along the dark road. She ran out at the sounds and screams to see him lying in the mud, blood beginning to form a small pool around him. The rider never stopped, disappearing into the darkness.

After Da was in the ground, she assessed the situation, and realized something had to give. She didn't see herself or Vari swinging a hammer to make a living. She retched at the thought of some of the things women did for coin near the docks – she would die before that became her fate. Then the faces of the gang captains came to her – that cold gaze, assessing her. Perhaps she could be of use to them.

She had no idea how to initiate a conversation about this, but her mind was made up. She walked directly up to Dregs through the crowd of his young proteges, the blood that was pounding in her ears drowning out their infantile suggestions and insults.

“I need some work.” She blurted it out without even knowing it. She held her breath waiting for him to speak.

For a moment, he didn’t – just looked at her again with the same cold eyes.

Finally, he spoke. “B’out time. Let’s get ya to Fergasse, see what he has fer ya.” His voice was rough, thin, fitting his grizzled appearance perfectly. She realized it was the first time she had ever heard it.

Fergasse was the local Master of The Brotherhood, overseeing their operations in the town. If he had ever been a working thief, there was no way to tell now – he was a very fat man, who spent more time overseeing account books than picking pockets. But he was the ordained boss for The Brotherhood in town, and he did not need to worry about his girth – there were plenty of fit gang members who would take care of any of Fergasse’s problems.

Dregs brought her to a warehouse by the docks, one she had always been warned to stay away from by Ma & Da. She had to pass by room after room of intimidating looking men, and one even patted her down and felt her up making sure she didn’t have a weapon. Finally she was in Fergasse’s “office”, a large room filled with boxes, bags, sacks, barrels, crates, chests, and every manner of thing used to transport goods – as well as piles and piles of leather-bound books: ship’s journals, logs, account books, inventory scrolls. Fergasse supervised a small army of men moving things in and out while another army was copying and modifying books, writing so fast they were sweating. Fergasse’s eye flicked to her after Dreg was able to whisper something in his ear, and he spat something back she didn’t hear, before he turned back to conducting the mayhem in the room.

Dreg took her back to her place and told her how it would work. She would start just doing "special deliveries" and watching for the town guard who's eyes were easily distracted by a lithe darkhaired lass. It was easy work for the most part, and she was good at it – folks knew her Da was gone, and men circled her like buzzards if she gave them the chance, wanting to be there when her finances or her will finally broke.

But those tasks weren't enough to support her and Vari; soon, she was pestering Dreg for bigger opportunity. Happy with her performance, he graduated her to more advanced work for the guild.

She took to the tasks like a bird to the air. It excited her. It gave her freedom from the drudgery of the smithy. And the coins to be had (earned?) were greater than she had ever seen. Though just eighteen by then, she quickly became a rising star in the guild. Soon enough, Dregs re-introduced her to Fergasse at the Bosses’ request. Fergasse wanted to have a look at this new recruit who was making him so much money.

As Fergasse spoke about the impression she had made, and that if she played her cards right she could have a bright future in The Brotherhood, she noticed a young man lounging back on a pile of grain sacks, staring at her with dark, hooded eyes. She had seen that stare before, but she was not that person anymore. She ignored the look, her lip curling into a mild sneer to express her disinterest.

After the meeting was over, she asked Dregs about the man. “Eh? On the sacks? Ach, thas Dany – Fergasse’s boyo. What ye’want wit him? Oh ya? Fancy’s ya does he? Well, ya be careful lass – that boyo’s got more problems than the Emperor of Jhon, he does – and he’ll make’em your problems if ya let ‘im. Best steer clear of ‘im, stay focused on yer work. He’s trouble if you like ‘im – but he’s also trouble if ya don’t, if ya take my meaning. Don’t make Fergasse choose between yas.”

She learned from others that Dany was an addict – he smoked the seeds from the Jhonian mazak plant, which generated the dark circles around his eyes and the vacant stare.

She heeded Dregs advice and made every attempt to avoid Dany. But to her dismay, Dany had other ideas. Apparently infatuated by her, he began hanging out in her neighborhood, repeatedly offering to buy her dinner, drinks, or to join him in a harmless smoke. She rebuffed him – gently, carefully, always saying that she had something to get done for his father. More than once she had to signal Dregs to intercept them and provide an escape. She began to stay away from the house more – Vari had enough money and was getting old enough to take care of herself and most of the chores at home while Meav earned their keep.

She used the time to hone her skills every day and the exciting life on the edge became like a drug to her. What started as a tactic to avoid Dany soon became a need to spend more and more time finding ways to complete the jobs allotted to her in the most impressive way possible. Vari was left to fend for herself as Meav was gone more and more, but Meav told herself Vari would have to learn to manage the home at some point, which assuaged her guilt at not being home with her sister.

One night, exhausted from nearly two solid days of casing a new ship that had arrived, she came home and found Vari in her bed – with Dany lying next to her. From the look of it, they had apparently been celebrating for days – there were clothes and half-eaten meals everywhere. The bitter-sweet smell of mazak hit her nostrils, and she noticed several pipes were strewn about, full of the dark tarry residue the drug leaves.

Meav was incensed – Vari had ruined everything! Now what was she going to do?

She carefully stepped over Dany and shook Vari, whispering for her to get up. But the girl remained prone, motionless. She shook harder, finally pulling her hard and flipping her over – to recoil in horror as the wide, sightless eyes of her sister stared back at her from dark hooded sockets, the open lips tinged blue.

Meav stumbled back against the wall, her heart pounding. She couldn’t think. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

She started as Dany mumbled something and rolled over onto one arm, lifting himself up on his elbow. His heavy-lidded eyes revealed he was still in the throes of the drug. He reached out to Vari, touching the dead girls arm. A minute later, a giggle erupted from him.

“I told…told you. You got to…to work up to…to it. Can’t be doing what I do. Sil…silly…girl.”

He flopped down, finally noticing Meav. “Oh…hey. You’re here. That’s great – I really was interested in you more anyway.” His eyes fluttered closed again, and he resumed gently snoring.

That day Meav picked up her Da's hammer for the last time in doing so ended her time in the guild, and guildmaster's son's life.

She looked once more in the mirror. Meav was dead, and Darithe reborn from her ashes. A dark phoenix for sure. She gathered her meager belongs and wrapped herself in her father oversized cloak and started outside. She glanced once more back at the smithy and then was gone. She walked on leaving the past behind.

A new town then, one where she is unknown. A place to disappear. The further from The Brotherhood, the better. Getting on a ship was too dangerous – The Brotherhood controlled the river and sea trade, she would be seen and her suspicious departure noted, if not prevented altogether. No, she had to leave by land.

In the dark of night, she stole down the South Road, which followed the coast all the way to Avis Armois. Far from the Capitol, perhaps there she could shake pursuit long enough to come up with a more long-term plan. The Mire Queen now beckoned to her which seemed appropriate somehow having become mired herself. As she walked she whispered a soft prayer (to whom she did not know) for forgiveness. But in her heart she knew forgiveness was reserved for those who deserved it.

The best steel doesn't always shine the brightest. Her da had taught her that and she thought of him as she walked south towards Avis Armois, the greatcloak wrapped around her due to the cool of the morn. She could still faintly smell him on it and those smells were comforting, almost as if he still embraced her in the folds of that big cloak. She breathed them in and smiled thinking of him, the pungent smell of the corrosive oils he used to clean his tools were there, and the pleasant smokey aroma of the coals of his forge still clung to the threads, and the musky smell of sweat after a good hard day of honest... She stopped abruptly and bit her lower lip. She sighed, the past is written. She could not change it no matter how much she wished to. But the future is a blank page. And that she could write.

She spotted a small family going in the opposite direction approaching, a young man, his pretty wife and two small girls tugging at their parent's cloaks. She smiled and nodded to them as their paths crossed. Her mind calling back memories of her own youth and her sister Vari. She turned and caught back up to the family offering them most of her fruit. It wouldn't last long and she knew she couldn't eat it all before it went bad. She kept a stem of grapes for herself and waved to them as they continued their journey farther away from her. She returned to the path she had chosen and walked on alone.

Landsoftheblacksea:Main Page/players/danithe thorne

2021-01-21T00:54:08Z

Darithe: /* Equipment */

[[ Landsoftheblacksea:Main_Page#Player_Characters | '''Return to the Main Page''']]

A woman running from her past and perhaps seeking redemption.

[[File:ZZDarithe2C.jpg | thumb]]

== Basics ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Character Name !! Player Name !! Race !! Class !! Alignment !! AC !! Experience !! Hit Points
|-
| Darithe Thorne (Meav Delte) || Desconocida || Human || Thief 3 || Chaotic Good || 7 (With Dex Adj) || 1250|| 11
|-
|}

== Physical ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Age !! Height !! Weight !! Eye Colour !! Hair Colour
|-
| 19 || 5'6" || 110 lbs || Light Green || Black
|}

== Stats ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:left"
|-
| Strength || '''11''' || ''Wt. Allowance: 40#; Max Press: 115#; Open Doors: 6; Bend Bars: 2%''
|-
| Dexterity || '''17''' || ''+2 React. Adj; +2 Missile Att. Adj.; -3 Def. Adj.''
|-
| Constitution || '''12''' || ''Sys. Shock: 80%; Res. Surv: 85%''
|-
| Intelligence || '''14''' || ''#Lang: 4''
|-
| Wisdom || '''10''' ||
|-
| Charisma || '''16''' || ''Mx. Hench: 8; Loy. Base: +4; Reac. Adj.: +5''
|-
|}

+10% XP Bonus

== Saving Throws ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Paralyzation/Poison/Death Magic !! Rod, Staff or Wand !! Petrification or Plymorph !! Breath Weapon !! Spell
|-
|| 13 || 14 || 13 || 15 || 12
|}
== Weapon Proficiencies ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Dagger'''
|-
|'''Hand Crossbow'''
|-
|}
== Nonweapon Proficiencies ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Blacksmithing (11)'''
|-
|'''Cooking (14)'''
|-
|'''Healing (8)'''
|-
|'''Herbalism (12)'''
|-
|'''Swimming (11)'''
|-
|'''Tumbling (17)'''
|-
|}

== Thieves Abilities ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
| '''Pick Pockets''' || 15% + 5% (DEX) + 5% (no armor) =25% ||
|-
| '''Open Locks''' || 30% + 10% (DEX) = 50% ||
|-
| '''Find/Remove Traps''' || 40% ||
|-
| '''Move Silently''' || 30% + 5% (DEX) + 10% (no armor) = 45% || Movement reduced to 1/3
|-
| '''Hide in Shadows''' || 35% + 5% (DEX) + 5% (no armor) = 45% ||
|-
| '''Detect Noise''' || 18% ||
|-
| '''Climb Walls''' || 60% + 10% (no armor) = 70% ||
|-
| '''Read Languages''' || 2% ||
|-
|}

== Encumbrance ==
{| class="wikitable"
|'''Unencumbered'''
|'''''0-40'''''
|-
|'''Light'''
|'''''41-58'''''
|-
|'''Moderate'''
|'''''59-76'''''
|-
|'''Heavy'''
|'''''77-96'''''
|-
|'''Severe'''
|'''''97-110'''''
|-
|}
== Equipment ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Clothing'''
|'''''5 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Leather Armor'''
|'''15 lbs'''
|-
|'''Backpack'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Small pouch'''
|'''''0.5 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Hand Crossbow'''
|'''''3 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Dagger (x2)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|-style="color: blue"
|'''Dwarven made Dagger (x2)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Quiver'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Quarrels (20)'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Hooded Lantern'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''3 Flasks of Lantern Oil'''
|'''''3 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Flint & Steel'''
|'''''*'''''
|-
|'''Dry Rations (3 days)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Waterskin'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Sewing Needle'''
|'''''*'''''
|-
|'''Thieves Picks'''
|'''''1 lb'''''
|-
|'''Vial of Perfume'''
|'''''*'''''
|-
|'''Whetstone'''
|'''''1 lb'''''
|-
|'''Fine Quality Deck of Playing Cards'''
|'''''*'''''
|-
|'''Total'''
|'''''39.5 lbs'''''
|-
|}

== Equipment Stored in Rooms ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Numerous Changes of Clothing'''
|-
|'''Set of Obsidian Dice With Bone Pips'''
|-
|'''Hooded Fine Fur Cloak'''
|-
|'''Fine Women's Clothing from Veniri'''
|-
|}

== Languages ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Common'''
|-
|'''Vox Mercanti'''
|-
|'''Thieves' Cant'''
|-
|}

== Background ==
[[File:ZZDarithe2L.jpg]]

She stared at her reflection in the mirror for a long time. The red hair would take some getting used to. The shorn locks of her previously long tresses less so, as that frequently just got in the way of her skills. No sign of her Da's dark hair now, the only part she truly inherited from him. Just as the freckles across her pale features came from her mother. Her hands were near as red as the hair stained from the dye. Somehow that seemed apt. She scrubbed the dye from her hands in the washbasin. At least that stain could be washed away...

Darithe Thorne was her name now. Once she had been Meav Delte, the daughter of a blacksmith in the town of Belies-ar-Weil, located mid-way along the coast of Athervon between Avis Inia, the seat of the Kingdom, to the North, and Avis Armois, the oldest and most far-flung of the Kingdom’s major cities, to the South. Her father was as dumb as the anvil he pounded everyday, but he was kind and had a ready smile, and was gentle with his young daughters Meav and her sister Vari. He did his best to support his two daughters on what little income he could make from shoeing horses and hammering out crude nails to build the rickety buildings in this poor section of town.

Their mother passed from a fever when Vari was five. Meav was three years older and did the best she could for her Da and young sister. She took care of them and when money was short she did what she had to for a few more coins to add to their larder. She helped in the smithy as much as she could and took care of delivering special orders for her Da. She found with a pretty smile she would sometimes even get tips, not much, but everything helped. She was poor but she was bright. She quickly picked up some smithing skills from her father and taught herself to read and write, which was rare for the people from her part of town.

Belis-ar-Weil was neither particularly large nor particularly small; but it held a strategic location at the mouth of the Aumine river, which carried the riches of the Kingdom’s interior to the sea, where it was then sent to either Avis Inia or Avis Armois for final destinations. Due to this vast amount of traffic in lucrative goods, the town had more than its fair share of criminal element, intent on skimming some of the proceeds for themselves. While there were a number of gangs that operated around the town, all paid their respects to the notorious Five Points Brotherhood. The Brotherhood was a huge network of Thieves that had bases over nearly the entire Kingdom – at least, that was what was said. Based out of the Capitol, The Brotherhood controlled virtually all the illegal traffic flowing on the land route between Avis Inia and Tras Veniri, and had a heavy hand in distribution to points beyond inside of Athervon. No one of sane mind crossed The Brotherhood – their operatives and informants were everywhere, and they did not hesitate to deal with problems that threatened their profitable position.

Meav had never planned to join them. To the contrary, she had always steered clear of the young gangs of new recruits, and ignored their catcalls, offers, and sometimes threats as she made her deliveries in town – that she could deal with. What really made her pick up her pace was the way one of the older members – a street captain known as Dregs – looked at her. He didn’t seem to be looking at the pretty young woman with leering eyes and lustful sneers like the others. No, Dregs always seemed to be assessing whether she might be useful to him, whether she could be an asset to his operation. His cold gaze watched her every time she passed, but he never said a thing – just gave a slight touch to his cap in greeting after their eyes met, and then turned back to his business.

She choked back a laugh thinking about it now.

She managed to keep things on an even keel until her 17th year. That was the year her Da passed – walking home at night after the neighborhood innkeeper had rewarded him with a few pints for some emergency repairs to some of his stable equipment, he must’ve never seen the horseman, riding at a full gallop along the dark road. She ran out at the sounds and screams to see him lying in the mud, blood beginning to form a small pool around him. The rider never stopped, disappearing into the darkness.

After Da was in the ground, she assessed the situation, and realized something had to give. She didn't see herself or Vari swinging a hammer to make a living. She retched at the thought of some of the things women did for coin near the docks – she would die before that became her fate. Then the faces of the gang captains came to her – that cold gaze, assessing her. Perhaps she could be of use to them.

She had no idea how to initiate a conversation about this, but her mind was made up. She walked directly up to Dregs through the crowd of his young proteges, the blood that was pounding in her ears drowning out their infantile suggestions and insults.

“I need some work.” She blurted it out without even knowing it. She held her breath waiting for him to speak.

For a moment, he didn’t – just looked at her again with the same cold eyes.

Finally, he spoke. “B’out time. Let’s get ya to Fergasse, see what he has fer ya.” His voice was rough, thin, fitting his grizzled appearance perfectly. She realized it was the first time she had ever heard it.

Fergasse was the local Master of The Brotherhood, overseeing their operations in the town. If he had ever been a working thief, there was no way to tell now – he was a very fat man, who spent more time overseeing account books than picking pockets. But he was the ordained boss for The Brotherhood in town, and he did not need to worry about his girth – there were plenty of fit gang members who would take care of any of Fergasse’s problems.

Dregs brought her to a warehouse by the docks, one she had always been warned to stay away from by Ma & Da. She had to pass by room after room of intimidating looking men, and one even patted her down and felt her up making sure she didn’t have a weapon. Finally she was in Fergasse’s “office”, a large room filled with boxes, bags, sacks, barrels, crates, chests, and every manner of thing used to transport goods – as well as piles and piles of leather-bound books: ship’s journals, logs, account books, inventory scrolls. Fergasse supervised a small army of men moving things in and out while another army was copying and modifying books, writing so fast they were sweating. Fergasse’s eye flicked to her after Dreg was able to whisper something in his ear, and he spat something back she didn’t hear, before he turned back to conducting the mayhem in the room.

Dreg took her back to her place and told her how it would work. She would start just doing "special deliveries" and watching for the town guard who's eyes were easily distracted by a lithe darkhaired lass. It was easy work for the most part, and she was good at it – folks knew her Da was gone, and men circled her like buzzards if she gave them the chance, wanting to be there when her finances or her will finally broke.

But those tasks weren't enough to support her and Vari; soon, she was pestering Dreg for bigger opportunity. Happy with her performance, he graduated her to more advanced work for the guild.

She took to the tasks like a bird to the air. It excited her. It gave her freedom from the drudgery of the smithy. And the coins to be had (earned?) were greater than she had ever seen. Though just eighteen by then, she quickly became a rising star in the guild. Soon enough, Dregs re-introduced her to Fergasse at the Bosses’ request. Fergasse wanted to have a look at this new recruit who was making him so much money.

As Fergasse spoke about the impression she had made, and that if she played her cards right she could have a bright future in The Brotherhood, she noticed a young man lounging back on a pile of grain sacks, staring at her with dark, hooded eyes. She had seen that stare before, but she was not that person anymore. She ignored the look, her lip curling into a mild sneer to express her disinterest.

After the meeting was over, she asked Dregs about the man. “Eh? On the sacks? Ach, thas Dany – Fergasse’s boyo. What ye’want wit him? Oh ya? Fancy’s ya does he? Well, ya be careful lass – that boyo’s got more problems than the Emperor of Jhon, he does – and he’ll make’em your problems if ya let ‘im. Best steer clear of ‘im, stay focused on yer work. He’s trouble if you like ‘im – but he’s also trouble if ya don’t, if ya take my meaning. Don’t make Fergasse choose between yas.”

She learned from others that Dany was an addict – he smoked the seeds from the Jhonian mazak plant, which generated the dark circles around his eyes and the vacant stare.

She heeded Dregs advice and made every attempt to avoid Dany. But to her dismay, Dany had other ideas. Apparently infatuated by her, he began hanging out in her neighborhood, repeatedly offering to buy her dinner, drinks, or to join him in a harmless smoke. She rebuffed him – gently, carefully, always saying that she had something to get done for his father. More than once she had to signal Dregs to intercept them and provide an escape. She began to stay away from the house more – Vari had enough money and was getting old enough to take care of herself and most of the chores at home while Meav earned their keep.

She used the time to hone her skills every day and the exciting life on the edge became like a drug to her. What started as a tactic to avoid Dany soon became a need to spend more and more time finding ways to complete the jobs allotted to her in the most impressive way possible. Vari was left to fend for herself as Meav was gone more and more, but Meav told herself Vari would have to learn to manage the home at some point, which assuaged her guilt at not being home with her sister.

One night, exhausted from nearly two solid days of casing a new ship that had arrived, she came home and found Vari in her bed – with Dany lying next to her. From the look of it, they had apparently been celebrating for days – there were clothes and half-eaten meals everywhere. The bitter-sweet smell of mazak hit her nostrils, and she noticed several pipes were strewn about, full of the dark tarry residue the drug leaves.

Meav was incensed – Vari had ruined everything! Now what was she going to do?

She carefully stepped over Dany and shook Vari, whispering for her to get up. But the girl remained prone, motionless. She shook harder, finally pulling her hard and flipping her over – to recoil in horror as the wide, sightless eyes of her sister stared back at her from dark hooded sockets, the open lips tinged blue.

Meav stumbled back against the wall, her heart pounding. She couldn’t think. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

She started as Dany mumbled something and rolled over onto one arm, lifting himself up on his elbow. His heavy-lidded eyes revealed he was still in the throes of the drug. He reached out to Vari, touching the dead girls arm. A minute later, a giggle erupted from him.

“I told…told you. You got to…to work up to…to it. Can’t be doing what I do. Sil…silly…girl.”

He flopped down, finally noticing Meav. “Oh…hey. You’re here. That’s great – I really was interested in you more anyway.” His eyes fluttered closed again, and he resumed gently snoring.

That day Meav picked up her Da's hammer for the last time in doing so ended her time in the guild, and guildmaster's son's life.

She looked once more in the mirror. Meav was dead, and Darithe reborn from her ashes. A dark phoenix for sure. She gathered her meager belongs and wrapped herself in her father oversized cloak and started outside. She glanced once more back at the smithy and then was gone. She walked on leaving the past behind.

A new town then, one where she is unknown. A place to disappear. The further from The Brotherhood, the better. Getting on a ship was too dangerous – The Brotherhood controlled the river and sea trade, she would be seen and her suspicious departure noted, if not prevented altogether. No, she had to leave by land.

In the dark of night, she stole down the South Road, which followed the coast all the way to Avis Armois. Far from the Capitol, perhaps there she could shake pursuit long enough to come up with a more long-term plan. The Mire Queen now beckoned to her which seemed appropriate somehow having become mired herself. As she walked she whispered a soft prayer (to whom she did not know) for forgiveness. But in her heart she knew forgiveness was reserved for those who deserved it.

The best steel doesn't always shine the brightest. Her da had taught her that and she thought of him as she walked south towards Avis Armois, the greatcloak wrapped around her due to the cool of the morn. She could still faintly smell him on it and those smells were comforting, almost as if he still embraced her in the folds of that big cloak. She breathed them in and smiled thinking of him, the pungent smell of the corrosive oils he used to clean his tools were there, and the pleasant smokey aroma of the coals of his forge still clung to the threads, and the musky smell of sweat after a good hard day of honest... She stopped abruptly and bit her lower lip. She sighed, the past is written. She could not change it no matter how much she wished to. But the future is a blank page. And that she could write.

She spotted a small family going in the opposite direction approaching, a young man, his pretty wife and two small girls tugging at their parent's cloaks. She smiled and nodded to them as their paths crossed. Her mind calling back memories of her own youth and her sister Vari. She turned and caught back up to the family offering them most of her fruit. It wouldn't last long and she knew she couldn't eat it all before it went bad. She kept a stem of grapes for herself and waved to them as they continued their journey farther away from her. She returned to the path she had chosen and walked on alone.

Landsoftheblacksea:Main Page/players/danithe thorne

2021-01-21T00:51:10Z

Darithe: /* Equipment */

[[ Landsoftheblacksea:Main_Page#Player_Characters | '''Return to the Main Page''']]

A woman running from her past and perhaps seeking redemption.

[[File:ZZDarithe2C.jpg | thumb]]

== Basics ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Character Name !! Player Name !! Race !! Class !! Alignment !! AC !! Experience !! Hit Points
|-
| Darithe Thorne (Meav Delte) || Desconocida || Human || Thief 3 || Chaotic Good || 7 (With Dex Adj) || 1250|| 11
|-
|}

== Physical ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Age !! Height !! Weight !! Eye Colour !! Hair Colour
|-
| 19 || 5'6" || 110 lbs || Light Green || Black
|}

== Stats ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:left"
|-
| Strength || '''11''' || ''Wt. Allowance: 40#; Max Press: 115#; Open Doors: 6; Bend Bars: 2%''
|-
| Dexterity || '''17''' || ''+2 React. Adj; +2 Missile Att. Adj.; -3 Def. Adj.''
|-
| Constitution || '''12''' || ''Sys. Shock: 80%; Res. Surv: 85%''
|-
| Intelligence || '''14''' || ''#Lang: 4''
|-
| Wisdom || '''10''' ||
|-
| Charisma || '''16''' || ''Mx. Hench: 8; Loy. Base: +4; Reac. Adj.: +5''
|-
|}

+10% XP Bonus

== Saving Throws ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Paralyzation/Poison/Death Magic !! Rod, Staff or Wand !! Petrification or Plymorph !! Breath Weapon !! Spell
|-
|| 13 || 14 || 13 || 15 || 12
|}
== Weapon Proficiencies ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Dagger'''
|-
|'''Hand Crossbow'''
|-
|}
== Nonweapon Proficiencies ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Blacksmithing (11)'''
|-
|'''Cooking (14)'''
|-
|'''Healing (8)'''
|-
|'''Herbalism (12)'''
|-
|'''Swimming (11)'''
|-
|'''Tumbling (17)'''
|-
|}

== Thieves Abilities ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
| '''Pick Pockets''' || 15% + 5% (DEX) + 5% (no armor) =25% ||
|-
| '''Open Locks''' || 30% + 10% (DEX) = 50% ||
|-
| '''Find/Remove Traps''' || 40% ||
|-
| '''Move Silently''' || 30% + 5% (DEX) + 10% (no armor) = 45% || Movement reduced to 1/3
|-
| '''Hide in Shadows''' || 35% + 5% (DEX) + 5% (no armor) = 45% ||
|-
| '''Detect Noise''' || 18% ||
|-
| '''Climb Walls''' || 60% + 10% (no armor) = 70% ||
|-
| '''Read Languages''' || 2% ||
|-
|}

== Encumbrance ==
{| class="wikitable"
|'''Unencumbered'''
|'''''0-40'''''
|-
|'''Light'''
|'''''41-58'''''
|-
|'''Moderate'''
|'''''59-76'''''
|-
|'''Heavy'''
|'''''77-96'''''
|-
|'''Severe'''
|'''''97-110'''''
|-
|}
== Equipment ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Clothing'''
|'''''5 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Leather Armor'''
|'''15 lbs'''
|-
|'''Backpack'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Small pouch'''
|'''''0.5 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Hand Crossbow'''
|'''''3 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Dagger (x2)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|-style="color: blue"
|'''Dwarven made Dagger (x2)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Quiver'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Quarrels (20)'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Hooded Lantern'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''3 Flasks of Lantern Oil'''
|'''''3 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Flint & Steel'''
|'''''*'''''
|-
|'''Dry Rations (3 days)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Waterskin'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Sewing Needle'''
|'''''*'''''
|-
|'''Thieves Picks'''
|'''''1 lb'''''
|-
|'''Fine Quality Deck of Playing Cards'''
|'''''*'''''
|-
|'''Total'''
|'''''39.5 lbs'''''
|-
|}

== Equipment Stored in Rooms ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Numerous Changes of Clothing'''
|-
|'''Set of Obsidian Dice With Bone Pips'''
|-
|'''Hooded Fine Fur Cloak'''
|-
|'''Fine Women's Clothing from Veniri'''
|-
|}

== Languages ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Common'''
|-
|'''Vox Mercanti'''
|-
|'''Thieves' Cant'''
|-
|}

== Background ==
[[File:ZZDarithe2L.jpg]]

She stared at her reflection in the mirror for a long time. The red hair would take some getting used to. The shorn locks of her previously long tresses less so, as that frequently just got in the way of her skills. No sign of her Da's dark hair now, the only part she truly inherited from him. Just as the freckles across her pale features came from her mother. Her hands were near as red as the hair stained from the dye. Somehow that seemed apt. She scrubbed the dye from her hands in the washbasin. At least that stain could be washed away...

Darithe Thorne was her name now. Once she had been Meav Delte, the daughter of a blacksmith in the town of Belies-ar-Weil, located mid-way along the coast of Athervon between Avis Inia, the seat of the Kingdom, to the North, and Avis Armois, the oldest and most far-flung of the Kingdom’s major cities, to the South. Her father was as dumb as the anvil he pounded everyday, but he was kind and had a ready smile, and was gentle with his young daughters Meav and her sister Vari. He did his best to support his two daughters on what little income he could make from shoeing horses and hammering out crude nails to build the rickety buildings in this poor section of town.

Their mother passed from a fever when Vari was five. Meav was three years older and did the best she could for her Da and young sister. She took care of them and when money was short she did what she had to for a few more coins to add to their larder. She helped in the smithy as much as she could and took care of delivering special orders for her Da. She found with a pretty smile she would sometimes even get tips, not much, but everything helped. She was poor but she was bright. She quickly picked up some smithing skills from her father and taught herself to read and write, which was rare for the people from her part of town.

Belis-ar-Weil was neither particularly large nor particularly small; but it held a strategic location at the mouth of the Aumine river, which carried the riches of the Kingdom’s interior to the sea, where it was then sent to either Avis Inia or Avis Armois for final destinations. Due to this vast amount of traffic in lucrative goods, the town had more than its fair share of criminal element, intent on skimming some of the proceeds for themselves. While there were a number of gangs that operated around the town, all paid their respects to the notorious Five Points Brotherhood. The Brotherhood was a huge network of Thieves that had bases over nearly the entire Kingdom – at least, that was what was said. Based out of the Capitol, The Brotherhood controlled virtually all the illegal traffic flowing on the land route between Avis Inia and Tras Veniri, and had a heavy hand in distribution to points beyond inside of Athervon. No one of sane mind crossed The Brotherhood – their operatives and informants were everywhere, and they did not hesitate to deal with problems that threatened their profitable position.

Meav had never planned to join them. To the contrary, she had always steered clear of the young gangs of new recruits, and ignored their catcalls, offers, and sometimes threats as she made her deliveries in town – that she could deal with. What really made her pick up her pace was the way one of the older members – a street captain known as Dregs – looked at her. He didn’t seem to be looking at the pretty young woman with leering eyes and lustful sneers like the others. No, Dregs always seemed to be assessing whether she might be useful to him, whether she could be an asset to his operation. His cold gaze watched her every time she passed, but he never said a thing – just gave a slight touch to his cap in greeting after their eyes met, and then turned back to his business.

She choked back a laugh thinking about it now.

She managed to keep things on an even keel until her 17th year. That was the year her Da passed – walking home at night after the neighborhood innkeeper had rewarded him with a few pints for some emergency repairs to some of his stable equipment, he must’ve never seen the horseman, riding at a full gallop along the dark road. She ran out at the sounds and screams to see him lying in the mud, blood beginning to form a small pool around him. The rider never stopped, disappearing into the darkness.

After Da was in the ground, she assessed the situation, and realized something had to give. She didn't see herself or Vari swinging a hammer to make a living. She retched at the thought of some of the things women did for coin near the docks – she would die before that became her fate. Then the faces of the gang captains came to her – that cold gaze, assessing her. Perhaps she could be of use to them.

She had no idea how to initiate a conversation about this, but her mind was made up. She walked directly up to Dregs through the crowd of his young proteges, the blood that was pounding in her ears drowning out their infantile suggestions and insults.

“I need some work.” She blurted it out without even knowing it. She held her breath waiting for him to speak.

For a moment, he didn’t – just looked at her again with the same cold eyes.

Finally, he spoke. “B’out time. Let’s get ya to Fergasse, see what he has fer ya.” His voice was rough, thin, fitting his grizzled appearance perfectly. She realized it was the first time she had ever heard it.

Fergasse was the local Master of The Brotherhood, overseeing their operations in the town. If he had ever been a working thief, there was no way to tell now – he was a very fat man, who spent more time overseeing account books than picking pockets. But he was the ordained boss for The Brotherhood in town, and he did not need to worry about his girth – there were plenty of fit gang members who would take care of any of Fergasse’s problems.

Dregs brought her to a warehouse by the docks, one she had always been warned to stay away from by Ma & Da. She had to pass by room after room of intimidating looking men, and one even patted her down and felt her up making sure she didn’t have a weapon. Finally she was in Fergasse’s “office”, a large room filled with boxes, bags, sacks, barrels, crates, chests, and every manner of thing used to transport goods – as well as piles and piles of leather-bound books: ship’s journals, logs, account books, inventory scrolls. Fergasse supervised a small army of men moving things in and out while another army was copying and modifying books, writing so fast they were sweating. Fergasse’s eye flicked to her after Dreg was able to whisper something in his ear, and he spat something back she didn’t hear, before he turned back to conducting the mayhem in the room.

Dreg took her back to her place and told her how it would work. She would start just doing "special deliveries" and watching for the town guard who's eyes were easily distracted by a lithe darkhaired lass. It was easy work for the most part, and she was good at it – folks knew her Da was gone, and men circled her like buzzards if she gave them the chance, wanting to be there when her finances or her will finally broke.

But those tasks weren't enough to support her and Vari; soon, she was pestering Dreg for bigger opportunity. Happy with her performance, he graduated her to more advanced work for the guild.

She took to the tasks like a bird to the air. It excited her. It gave her freedom from the drudgery of the smithy. And the coins to be had (earned?) were greater than she had ever seen. Though just eighteen by then, she quickly became a rising star in the guild. Soon enough, Dregs re-introduced her to Fergasse at the Bosses’ request. Fergasse wanted to have a look at this new recruit who was making him so much money.

As Fergasse spoke about the impression she had made, and that if she played her cards right she could have a bright future in The Brotherhood, she noticed a young man lounging back on a pile of grain sacks, staring at her with dark, hooded eyes. She had seen that stare before, but she was not that person anymore. She ignored the look, her lip curling into a mild sneer to express her disinterest.

After the meeting was over, she asked Dregs about the man. “Eh? On the sacks? Ach, thas Dany – Fergasse’s boyo. What ye’want wit him? Oh ya? Fancy’s ya does he? Well, ya be careful lass – that boyo’s got more problems than the Emperor of Jhon, he does – and he’ll make’em your problems if ya let ‘im. Best steer clear of ‘im, stay focused on yer work. He’s trouble if you like ‘im – but he’s also trouble if ya don’t, if ya take my meaning. Don’t make Fergasse choose between yas.”

She learned from others that Dany was an addict – he smoked the seeds from the Jhonian mazak plant, which generated the dark circles around his eyes and the vacant stare.

She heeded Dregs advice and made every attempt to avoid Dany. But to her dismay, Dany had other ideas. Apparently infatuated by her, he began hanging out in her neighborhood, repeatedly offering to buy her dinner, drinks, or to join him in a harmless smoke. She rebuffed him – gently, carefully, always saying that she had something to get done for his father. More than once she had to signal Dregs to intercept them and provide an escape. She began to stay away from the house more – Vari had enough money and was getting old enough to take care of herself and most of the chores at home while Meav earned their keep.

She used the time to hone her skills every day and the exciting life on the edge became like a drug to her. What started as a tactic to avoid Dany soon became a need to spend more and more time finding ways to complete the jobs allotted to her in the most impressive way possible. Vari was left to fend for herself as Meav was gone more and more, but Meav told herself Vari would have to learn to manage the home at some point, which assuaged her guilt at not being home with her sister.

One night, exhausted from nearly two solid days of casing a new ship that had arrived, she came home and found Vari in her bed – with Dany lying next to her. From the look of it, they had apparently been celebrating for days – there were clothes and half-eaten meals everywhere. The bitter-sweet smell of mazak hit her nostrils, and she noticed several pipes were strewn about, full of the dark tarry residue the drug leaves.

Meav was incensed – Vari had ruined everything! Now what was she going to do?

She carefully stepped over Dany and shook Vari, whispering for her to get up. But the girl remained prone, motionless. She shook harder, finally pulling her hard and flipping her over – to recoil in horror as the wide, sightless eyes of her sister stared back at her from dark hooded sockets, the open lips tinged blue.

Meav stumbled back against the wall, her heart pounding. She couldn’t think. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

She started as Dany mumbled something and rolled over onto one arm, lifting himself up on his elbow. His heavy-lidded eyes revealed he was still in the throes of the drug. He reached out to Vari, touching the dead girls arm. A minute later, a giggle erupted from him.

“I told…told you. You got to…to work up to…to it. Can’t be doing what I do. Sil…silly…girl.”

He flopped down, finally noticing Meav. “Oh…hey. You’re here. That’s great – I really was interested in you more anyway.” His eyes fluttered closed again, and he resumed gently snoring.

That day Meav picked up her Da's hammer for the last time in doing so ended her time in the guild, and guildmaster's son's life.

She looked once more in the mirror. Meav was dead, and Darithe reborn from her ashes. A dark phoenix for sure. She gathered her meager belongs and wrapped herself in her father oversized cloak and started outside. She glanced once more back at the smithy and then was gone. She walked on leaving the past behind.

A new town then, one where she is unknown. A place to disappear. The further from The Brotherhood, the better. Getting on a ship was too dangerous – The Brotherhood controlled the river and sea trade, she would be seen and her suspicious departure noted, if not prevented altogether. No, she had to leave by land.

In the dark of night, she stole down the South Road, which followed the coast all the way to Avis Armois. Far from the Capitol, perhaps there she could shake pursuit long enough to come up with a more long-term plan. The Mire Queen now beckoned to her which seemed appropriate somehow having become mired herself. As she walked she whispered a soft prayer (to whom she did not know) for forgiveness. But in her heart she knew forgiveness was reserved for those who deserved it.

The best steel doesn't always shine the brightest. Her da had taught her that and she thought of him as she walked south towards Avis Armois, the greatcloak wrapped around her due to the cool of the morn. She could still faintly smell him on it and those smells were comforting, almost as if he still embraced her in the folds of that big cloak. She breathed them in and smiled thinking of him, the pungent smell of the corrosive oils he used to clean his tools were there, and the pleasant smokey aroma of the coals of his forge still clung to the threads, and the musky smell of sweat after a good hard day of honest... She stopped abruptly and bit her lower lip. She sighed, the past is written. She could not change it no matter how much she wished to. But the future is a blank page. And that she could write.

She spotted a small family going in the opposite direction approaching, a young man, his pretty wife and two small girls tugging at their parent's cloaks. She smiled and nodded to them as their paths crossed. Her mind calling back memories of her own youth and her sister Vari. She turned and caught back up to the family offering them most of her fruit. It wouldn't last long and she knew she couldn't eat it all before it went bad. She kept a stem of grapes for herself and waved to them as they continued their journey farther away from her. She returned to the path she had chosen and walked on alone.

Landsoftheblacksea:Main Page/players/danithe thorne

2021-01-21T00:50:28Z

Darithe: /* Equipment */

[[ Landsoftheblacksea:Main_Page#Player_Characters | '''Return to the Main Page''']]

A woman running from her past and perhaps seeking redemption.

[[File:ZZDarithe2C.jpg | thumb]]

== Basics ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Character Name !! Player Name !! Race !! Class !! Alignment !! AC !! Experience !! Hit Points
|-
| Darithe Thorne (Meav Delte) || Desconocida || Human || Thief 3 || Chaotic Good || 7 (With Dex Adj) || 1250|| 11
|-
|}

== Physical ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Age !! Height !! Weight !! Eye Colour !! Hair Colour
|-
| 19 || 5'6" || 110 lbs || Light Green || Black
|}

== Stats ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:left"
|-
| Strength || '''11''' || ''Wt. Allowance: 40#; Max Press: 115#; Open Doors: 6; Bend Bars: 2%''
|-
| Dexterity || '''17''' || ''+2 React. Adj; +2 Missile Att. Adj.; -3 Def. Adj.''
|-
| Constitution || '''12''' || ''Sys. Shock: 80%; Res. Surv: 85%''
|-
| Intelligence || '''14''' || ''#Lang: 4''
|-
| Wisdom || '''10''' ||
|-
| Charisma || '''16''' || ''Mx. Hench: 8; Loy. Base: +4; Reac. Adj.: +5''
|-
|}

+10% XP Bonus

== Saving Throws ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Paralyzation/Poison/Death Magic !! Rod, Staff or Wand !! Petrification or Plymorph !! Breath Weapon !! Spell
|-
|| 13 || 14 || 13 || 15 || 12
|}
== Weapon Proficiencies ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Dagger'''
|-
|'''Hand Crossbow'''
|-
|}
== Nonweapon Proficiencies ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Blacksmithing (11)'''
|-
|'''Cooking (14)'''
|-
|'''Healing (8)'''
|-
|'''Herbalism (12)'''
|-
|'''Swimming (11)'''
|-
|'''Tumbling (17)'''
|-
|}

== Thieves Abilities ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
| '''Pick Pockets''' || 15% + 5% (DEX) + 5% (no armor) =25% ||
|-
| '''Open Locks''' || 30% + 10% (DEX) = 50% ||
|-
| '''Find/Remove Traps''' || 40% ||
|-
| '''Move Silently''' || 30% + 5% (DEX) + 10% (no armor) = 45% || Movement reduced to 1/3
|-
| '''Hide in Shadows''' || 35% + 5% (DEX) + 5% (no armor) = 45% ||
|-
| '''Detect Noise''' || 18% ||
|-
| '''Climb Walls''' || 60% + 10% (no armor) = 70% ||
|-
| '''Read Languages''' || 2% ||
|-
|}

== Encumbrance ==
{| class="wikitable"
|'''Unencumbered'''
|'''''0-40'''''
|-
|'''Light'''
|'''''41-58'''''
|-
|'''Moderate'''
|'''''59-76'''''
|-
|'''Heavy'''
|'''''77-96'''''
|-
|'''Severe'''
|'''''97-110'''''
|-
|}
== Equipment ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Clothing'''
|'''''5 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Leather Armor'''
|'''15 lbs'''
|-
|'''Backpack'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Small pouch'''
|'''''0.5 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Hand Crossbow'''
|'''''3 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Dagger (x2)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|-style="color: blue"
|'''Dwarven made Dagger (x2)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Quiver'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Quarrels (20)'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Hooded Lantern'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''3 Flasks of Lantern Oil'''
|'''''3 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Flint & Steel'''
|'''''*'''''
|-
|'''Dry Rations (3 days)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Waterskin'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Sewing Needle'''
|-'''''*'''''
|-
|'''Thieves Picks'''
|'''''1 lb'''''
|-
|'''Fine Quality Deck of Playing Cards'''
|'''''*'''''
|-
|'''Total'''
|'''''39.5 lbs'''''
|-
|}

== Equipment Stored in Rooms ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Numerous Changes of Clothing'''
|-
|'''Set of Obsidian Dice With Bone Pips'''
|-
|'''Hooded Fine Fur Cloak'''
|-
|'''Fine Women's Clothing from Veniri'''
|-
|}

== Languages ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Common'''
|-
|'''Vox Mercanti'''
|-
|'''Thieves' Cant'''
|-
|}

== Background ==
[[File:ZZDarithe2L.jpg]]

She stared at her reflection in the mirror for a long time. The red hair would take some getting used to. The shorn locks of her previously long tresses less so, as that frequently just got in the way of her skills. No sign of her Da's dark hair now, the only part she truly inherited from him. Just as the freckles across her pale features came from her mother. Her hands were near as red as the hair stained from the dye. Somehow that seemed apt. She scrubbed the dye from her hands in the washbasin. At least that stain could be washed away...

Darithe Thorne was her name now. Once she had been Meav Delte, the daughter of a blacksmith in the town of Belies-ar-Weil, located mid-way along the coast of Athervon between Avis Inia, the seat of the Kingdom, to the North, and Avis Armois, the oldest and most far-flung of the Kingdom’s major cities, to the South. Her father was as dumb as the anvil he pounded everyday, but he was kind and had a ready smile, and was gentle with his young daughters Meav and her sister Vari. He did his best to support his two daughters on what little income he could make from shoeing horses and hammering out crude nails to build the rickety buildings in this poor section of town.

Their mother passed from a fever when Vari was five. Meav was three years older and did the best she could for her Da and young sister. She took care of them and when money was short she did what she had to for a few more coins to add to their larder. She helped in the smithy as much as she could and took care of delivering special orders for her Da. She found with a pretty smile she would sometimes even get tips, not much, but everything helped. She was poor but she was bright. She quickly picked up some smithing skills from her father and taught herself to read and write, which was rare for the people from her part of town.

Belis-ar-Weil was neither particularly large nor particularly small; but it held a strategic location at the mouth of the Aumine river, which carried the riches of the Kingdom’s interior to the sea, where it was then sent to either Avis Inia or Avis Armois for final destinations. Due to this vast amount of traffic in lucrative goods, the town had more than its fair share of criminal element, intent on skimming some of the proceeds for themselves. While there were a number of gangs that operated around the town, all paid their respects to the notorious Five Points Brotherhood. The Brotherhood was a huge network of Thieves that had bases over nearly the entire Kingdom – at least, that was what was said. Based out of the Capitol, The Brotherhood controlled virtually all the illegal traffic flowing on the land route between Avis Inia and Tras Veniri, and had a heavy hand in distribution to points beyond inside of Athervon. No one of sane mind crossed The Brotherhood – their operatives and informants were everywhere, and they did not hesitate to deal with problems that threatened their profitable position.

Meav had never planned to join them. To the contrary, she had always steered clear of the young gangs of new recruits, and ignored their catcalls, offers, and sometimes threats as she made her deliveries in town – that she could deal with. What really made her pick up her pace was the way one of the older members – a street captain known as Dregs – looked at her. He didn’t seem to be looking at the pretty young woman with leering eyes and lustful sneers like the others. No, Dregs always seemed to be assessing whether she might be useful to him, whether she could be an asset to his operation. His cold gaze watched her every time she passed, but he never said a thing – just gave a slight touch to his cap in greeting after their eyes met, and then turned back to his business.

She choked back a laugh thinking about it now.

She managed to keep things on an even keel until her 17th year. That was the year her Da passed – walking home at night after the neighborhood innkeeper had rewarded him with a few pints for some emergency repairs to some of his stable equipment, he must’ve never seen the horseman, riding at a full gallop along the dark road. She ran out at the sounds and screams to see him lying in the mud, blood beginning to form a small pool around him. The rider never stopped, disappearing into the darkness.

After Da was in the ground, she assessed the situation, and realized something had to give. She didn't see herself or Vari swinging a hammer to make a living. She retched at the thought of some of the things women did for coin near the docks – she would die before that became her fate. Then the faces of the gang captains came to her – that cold gaze, assessing her. Perhaps she could be of use to them.

She had no idea how to initiate a conversation about this, but her mind was made up. She walked directly up to Dregs through the crowd of his young proteges, the blood that was pounding in her ears drowning out their infantile suggestions and insults.

“I need some work.” She blurted it out without even knowing it. She held her breath waiting for him to speak.

For a moment, he didn’t – just looked at her again with the same cold eyes.

Finally, he spoke. “B’out time. Let’s get ya to Fergasse, see what he has fer ya.” His voice was rough, thin, fitting his grizzled appearance perfectly. She realized it was the first time she had ever heard it.

Fergasse was the local Master of The Brotherhood, overseeing their operations in the town. If he had ever been a working thief, there was no way to tell now – he was a very fat man, who spent more time overseeing account books than picking pockets. But he was the ordained boss for The Brotherhood in town, and he did not need to worry about his girth – there were plenty of fit gang members who would take care of any of Fergasse’s problems.

Dregs brought her to a warehouse by the docks, one she had always been warned to stay away from by Ma & Da. She had to pass by room after room of intimidating looking men, and one even patted her down and felt her up making sure she didn’t have a weapon. Finally she was in Fergasse’s “office”, a large room filled with boxes, bags, sacks, barrels, crates, chests, and every manner of thing used to transport goods – as well as piles and piles of leather-bound books: ship’s journals, logs, account books, inventory scrolls. Fergasse supervised a small army of men moving things in and out while another army was copying and modifying books, writing so fast they were sweating. Fergasse’s eye flicked to her after Dreg was able to whisper something in his ear, and he spat something back she didn’t hear, before he turned back to conducting the mayhem in the room.

Dreg took her back to her place and told her how it would work. She would start just doing "special deliveries" and watching for the town guard who's eyes were easily distracted by a lithe darkhaired lass. It was easy work for the most part, and she was good at it – folks knew her Da was gone, and men circled her like buzzards if she gave them the chance, wanting to be there when her finances or her will finally broke.

But those tasks weren't enough to support her and Vari; soon, she was pestering Dreg for bigger opportunity. Happy with her performance, he graduated her to more advanced work for the guild.

She took to the tasks like a bird to the air. It excited her. It gave her freedom from the drudgery of the smithy. And the coins to be had (earned?) were greater than she had ever seen. Though just eighteen by then, she quickly became a rising star in the guild. Soon enough, Dregs re-introduced her to Fergasse at the Bosses’ request. Fergasse wanted to have a look at this new recruit who was making him so much money.

As Fergasse spoke about the impression she had made, and that if she played her cards right she could have a bright future in The Brotherhood, she noticed a young man lounging back on a pile of grain sacks, staring at her with dark, hooded eyes. She had seen that stare before, but she was not that person anymore. She ignored the look, her lip curling into a mild sneer to express her disinterest.

After the meeting was over, she asked Dregs about the man. “Eh? On the sacks? Ach, thas Dany – Fergasse’s boyo. What ye’want wit him? Oh ya? Fancy’s ya does he? Well, ya be careful lass – that boyo’s got more problems than the Emperor of Jhon, he does – and he’ll make’em your problems if ya let ‘im. Best steer clear of ‘im, stay focused on yer work. He’s trouble if you like ‘im – but he’s also trouble if ya don’t, if ya take my meaning. Don’t make Fergasse choose between yas.”

She learned from others that Dany was an addict – he smoked the seeds from the Jhonian mazak plant, which generated the dark circles around his eyes and the vacant stare.

She heeded Dregs advice and made every attempt to avoid Dany. But to her dismay, Dany had other ideas. Apparently infatuated by her, he began hanging out in her neighborhood, repeatedly offering to buy her dinner, drinks, or to join him in a harmless smoke. She rebuffed him – gently, carefully, always saying that she had something to get done for his father. More than once she had to signal Dregs to intercept them and provide an escape. She began to stay away from the house more – Vari had enough money and was getting old enough to take care of herself and most of the chores at home while Meav earned their keep.

She used the time to hone her skills every day and the exciting life on the edge became like a drug to her. What started as a tactic to avoid Dany soon became a need to spend more and more time finding ways to complete the jobs allotted to her in the most impressive way possible. Vari was left to fend for herself as Meav was gone more and more, but Meav told herself Vari would have to learn to manage the home at some point, which assuaged her guilt at not being home with her sister.

One night, exhausted from nearly two solid days of casing a new ship that had arrived, she came home and found Vari in her bed – with Dany lying next to her. From the look of it, they had apparently been celebrating for days – there were clothes and half-eaten meals everywhere. The bitter-sweet smell of mazak hit her nostrils, and she noticed several pipes were strewn about, full of the dark tarry residue the drug leaves.

Meav was incensed – Vari had ruined everything! Now what was she going to do?

She carefully stepped over Dany and shook Vari, whispering for her to get up. But the girl remained prone, motionless. She shook harder, finally pulling her hard and flipping her over – to recoil in horror as the wide, sightless eyes of her sister stared back at her from dark hooded sockets, the open lips tinged blue.

Meav stumbled back against the wall, her heart pounding. She couldn’t think. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

She started as Dany mumbled something and rolled over onto one arm, lifting himself up on his elbow. His heavy-lidded eyes revealed he was still in the throes of the drug. He reached out to Vari, touching the dead girls arm. A minute later, a giggle erupted from him.

“I told…told you. You got to…to work up to…to it. Can’t be doing what I do. Sil…silly…girl.”

He flopped down, finally noticing Meav. “Oh…hey. You’re here. That’s great – I really was interested in you more anyway.” His eyes fluttered closed again, and he resumed gently snoring.

That day Meav picked up her Da's hammer for the last time in doing so ended her time in the guild, and guildmaster's son's life.

She looked once more in the mirror. Meav was dead, and Darithe reborn from her ashes. A dark phoenix for sure. She gathered her meager belongs and wrapped herself in her father oversized cloak and started outside. She glanced once more back at the smithy and then was gone. She walked on leaving the past behind.

A new town then, one where she is unknown. A place to disappear. The further from The Brotherhood, the better. Getting on a ship was too dangerous – The Brotherhood controlled the river and sea trade, she would be seen and her suspicious departure noted, if not prevented altogether. No, she had to leave by land.

In the dark of night, she stole down the South Road, which followed the coast all the way to Avis Armois. Far from the Capitol, perhaps there she could shake pursuit long enough to come up with a more long-term plan. The Mire Queen now beckoned to her which seemed appropriate somehow having become mired herself. As she walked she whispered a soft prayer (to whom she did not know) for forgiveness. But in her heart she knew forgiveness was reserved for those who deserved it.

The best steel doesn't always shine the brightest. Her da had taught her that and she thought of him as she walked south towards Avis Armois, the greatcloak wrapped around her due to the cool of the morn. She could still faintly smell him on it and those smells were comforting, almost as if he still embraced her in the folds of that big cloak. She breathed them in and smiled thinking of him, the pungent smell of the corrosive oils he used to clean his tools were there, and the pleasant smokey aroma of the coals of his forge still clung to the threads, and the musky smell of sweat after a good hard day of honest... She stopped abruptly and bit her lower lip. She sighed, the past is written. She could not change it no matter how much she wished to. But the future is a blank page. And that she could write.

She spotted a small family going in the opposite direction approaching, a young man, his pretty wife and two small girls tugging at their parent's cloaks. She smiled and nodded to them as their paths crossed. Her mind calling back memories of her own youth and her sister Vari. She turned and caught back up to the family offering them most of her fruit. It wouldn't last long and she knew she couldn't eat it all before it went bad. She kept a stem of grapes for herself and waved to them as they continued their journey farther away from her. She returned to the path she had chosen and walked on alone.

Landsoftheblacksea:Main Page/players/danithe thorne

2021-01-21T00:48:56Z

Darithe: /* Equipment */

[[ Landsoftheblacksea:Main_Page#Player_Characters | '''Return to the Main Page''']]

A woman running from her past and perhaps seeking redemption.

[[File:ZZDarithe2C.jpg | thumb]]

== Basics ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Character Name !! Player Name !! Race !! Class !! Alignment !! AC !! Experience !! Hit Points
|-
| Darithe Thorne (Meav Delte) || Desconocida || Human || Thief 3 || Chaotic Good || 7 (With Dex Adj) || 1250|| 11
|-
|}

== Physical ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Age !! Height !! Weight !! Eye Colour !! Hair Colour
|-
| 19 || 5'6" || 110 lbs || Light Green || Black
|}

== Stats ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:left"
|-
| Strength || '''11''' || ''Wt. Allowance: 40#; Max Press: 115#; Open Doors: 6; Bend Bars: 2%''
|-
| Dexterity || '''17''' || ''+2 React. Adj; +2 Missile Att. Adj.; -3 Def. Adj.''
|-
| Constitution || '''12''' || ''Sys. Shock: 80%; Res. Surv: 85%''
|-
| Intelligence || '''14''' || ''#Lang: 4''
|-
| Wisdom || '''10''' ||
|-
| Charisma || '''16''' || ''Mx. Hench: 8; Loy. Base: +4; Reac. Adj.: +5''
|-
|}

+10% XP Bonus

== Saving Throws ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Paralyzation/Poison/Death Magic !! Rod, Staff or Wand !! Petrification or Plymorph !! Breath Weapon !! Spell
|-
|| 13 || 14 || 13 || 15 || 12
|}
== Weapon Proficiencies ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Dagger'''
|-
|'''Hand Crossbow'''
|-
|}
== Nonweapon Proficiencies ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Blacksmithing (11)'''
|-
|'''Cooking (14)'''
|-
|'''Healing (8)'''
|-
|'''Herbalism (12)'''
|-
|'''Swimming (11)'''
|-
|'''Tumbling (17)'''
|-
|}

== Thieves Abilities ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
| '''Pick Pockets''' || 15% + 5% (DEX) + 5% (no armor) =25% ||
|-
| '''Open Locks''' || 30% + 10% (DEX) = 50% ||
|-
| '''Find/Remove Traps''' || 40% ||
|-
| '''Move Silently''' || 30% + 5% (DEX) + 10% (no armor) = 45% || Movement reduced to 1/3
|-
| '''Hide in Shadows''' || 35% + 5% (DEX) + 5% (no armor) = 45% ||
|-
| '''Detect Noise''' || 18% ||
|-
| '''Climb Walls''' || 60% + 10% (no armor) = 70% ||
|-
| '''Read Languages''' || 2% ||
|-
|}

== Encumbrance ==
{| class="wikitable"
|'''Unencumbered'''
|'''''0-40'''''
|-
|'''Light'''
|'''''41-58'''''
|-
|'''Moderate'''
|'''''59-76'''''
|-
|'''Heavy'''
|'''''77-96'''''
|-
|'''Severe'''
|'''''97-110'''''
|-
|}
== Equipment ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Clothing'''
|'''''5 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Leather Armor'''
|'''15 lbs'''
|-
|'''Backpack'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Small pouch'''
|'''''0.5 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Hand Crossbow'''
|'''''3 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Dagger (x2)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|-style="color: blue"
|'''Dwarven made Dagger (x2)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Quiver'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Quarrels (20)'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Hooded Lantern'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''3 Flasks of Lantern Oil'''
|'''''3 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Flint & Steel'''
|'''''*'''''
|-
|'''Dry Rations (3 days)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Waterskin'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Thieves Picks'''
|'''''1 lb'''''
|-
|'''Fine Quality Deck of Playing Cards'''
|'''''*'''''
|-
|'''Total'''
|'''''39.5 lbs'''''
|-
|}

== Equipment Stored in Rooms ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Numerous Changes of Clothing'''
|-
|'''Set of Obsidian Dice With Bone Pips'''
|-
|'''Hooded Fine Fur Cloak'''
|-
|'''Fine Women's Clothing from Veniri'''
|-
|}

== Languages ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Common'''
|-
|'''Vox Mercanti'''
|-
|'''Thieves' Cant'''
|-
|}

== Background ==
[[File:ZZDarithe2L.jpg]]

She stared at her reflection in the mirror for a long time. The red hair would take some getting used to. The shorn locks of her previously long tresses less so, as that frequently just got in the way of her skills. No sign of her Da's dark hair now, the only part she truly inherited from him. Just as the freckles across her pale features came from her mother. Her hands were near as red as the hair stained from the dye. Somehow that seemed apt. She scrubbed the dye from her hands in the washbasin. At least that stain could be washed away...

Darithe Thorne was her name now. Once she had been Meav Delte, the daughter of a blacksmith in the town of Belies-ar-Weil, located mid-way along the coast of Athervon between Avis Inia, the seat of the Kingdom, to the North, and Avis Armois, the oldest and most far-flung of the Kingdom’s major cities, to the South. Her father was as dumb as the anvil he pounded everyday, but he was kind and had a ready smile, and was gentle with his young daughters Meav and her sister Vari. He did his best to support his two daughters on what little income he could make from shoeing horses and hammering out crude nails to build the rickety buildings in this poor section of town.

Their mother passed from a fever when Vari was five. Meav was three years older and did the best she could for her Da and young sister. She took care of them and when money was short she did what she had to for a few more coins to add to their larder. She helped in the smithy as much as she could and took care of delivering special orders for her Da. She found with a pretty smile she would sometimes even get tips, not much, but everything helped. She was poor but she was bright. She quickly picked up some smithing skills from her father and taught herself to read and write, which was rare for the people from her part of town.

Belis-ar-Weil was neither particularly large nor particularly small; but it held a strategic location at the mouth of the Aumine river, which carried the riches of the Kingdom’s interior to the sea, where it was then sent to either Avis Inia or Avis Armois for final destinations. Due to this vast amount of traffic in lucrative goods, the town had more than its fair share of criminal element, intent on skimming some of the proceeds for themselves. While there were a number of gangs that operated around the town, all paid their respects to the notorious Five Points Brotherhood. The Brotherhood was a huge network of Thieves that had bases over nearly the entire Kingdom – at least, that was what was said. Based out of the Capitol, The Brotherhood controlled virtually all the illegal traffic flowing on the land route between Avis Inia and Tras Veniri, and had a heavy hand in distribution to points beyond inside of Athervon. No one of sane mind crossed The Brotherhood – their operatives and informants were everywhere, and they did not hesitate to deal with problems that threatened their profitable position.

Meav had never planned to join them. To the contrary, she had always steered clear of the young gangs of new recruits, and ignored their catcalls, offers, and sometimes threats as she made her deliveries in town – that she could deal with. What really made her pick up her pace was the way one of the older members – a street captain known as Dregs – looked at her. He didn’t seem to be looking at the pretty young woman with leering eyes and lustful sneers like the others. No, Dregs always seemed to be assessing whether she might be useful to him, whether she could be an asset to his operation. His cold gaze watched her every time she passed, but he never said a thing – just gave a slight touch to his cap in greeting after their eyes met, and then turned back to his business.

She choked back a laugh thinking about it now.

She managed to keep things on an even keel until her 17th year. That was the year her Da passed – walking home at night after the neighborhood innkeeper had rewarded him with a few pints for some emergency repairs to some of his stable equipment, he must’ve never seen the horseman, riding at a full gallop along the dark road. She ran out at the sounds and screams to see him lying in the mud, blood beginning to form a small pool around him. The rider never stopped, disappearing into the darkness.

After Da was in the ground, she assessed the situation, and realized something had to give. She didn't see herself or Vari swinging a hammer to make a living. She retched at the thought of some of the things women did for coin near the docks – she would die before that became her fate. Then the faces of the gang captains came to her – that cold gaze, assessing her. Perhaps she could be of use to them.

She had no idea how to initiate a conversation about this, but her mind was made up. She walked directly up to Dregs through the crowd of his young proteges, the blood that was pounding in her ears drowning out their infantile suggestions and insults.

“I need some work.” She blurted it out without even knowing it. She held her breath waiting for him to speak.

For a moment, he didn’t – just looked at her again with the same cold eyes.

Finally, he spoke. “B’out time. Let’s get ya to Fergasse, see what he has fer ya.” His voice was rough, thin, fitting his grizzled appearance perfectly. She realized it was the first time she had ever heard it.

Fergasse was the local Master of The Brotherhood, overseeing their operations in the town. If he had ever been a working thief, there was no way to tell now – he was a very fat man, who spent more time overseeing account books than picking pockets. But he was the ordained boss for The Brotherhood in town, and he did not need to worry about his girth – there were plenty of fit gang members who would take care of any of Fergasse’s problems.

Dregs brought her to a warehouse by the docks, one she had always been warned to stay away from by Ma & Da. She had to pass by room after room of intimidating looking men, and one even patted her down and felt her up making sure she didn’t have a weapon. Finally she was in Fergasse’s “office”, a large room filled with boxes, bags, sacks, barrels, crates, chests, and every manner of thing used to transport goods – as well as piles and piles of leather-bound books: ship’s journals, logs, account books, inventory scrolls. Fergasse supervised a small army of men moving things in and out while another army was copying and modifying books, writing so fast they were sweating. Fergasse’s eye flicked to her after Dreg was able to whisper something in his ear, and he spat something back she didn’t hear, before he turned back to conducting the mayhem in the room.

Dreg took her back to her place and told her how it would work. She would start just doing "special deliveries" and watching for the town guard who's eyes were easily distracted by a lithe darkhaired lass. It was easy work for the most part, and she was good at it – folks knew her Da was gone, and men circled her like buzzards if she gave them the chance, wanting to be there when her finances or her will finally broke.

But those tasks weren't enough to support her and Vari; soon, she was pestering Dreg for bigger opportunity. Happy with her performance, he graduated her to more advanced work for the guild.

She took to the tasks like a bird to the air. It excited her. It gave her freedom from the drudgery of the smithy. And the coins to be had (earned?) were greater than she had ever seen. Though just eighteen by then, she quickly became a rising star in the guild. Soon enough, Dregs re-introduced her to Fergasse at the Bosses’ request. Fergasse wanted to have a look at this new recruit who was making him so much money.

As Fergasse spoke about the impression she had made, and that if she played her cards right she could have a bright future in The Brotherhood, she noticed a young man lounging back on a pile of grain sacks, staring at her with dark, hooded eyes. She had seen that stare before, but she was not that person anymore. She ignored the look, her lip curling into a mild sneer to express her disinterest.

After the meeting was over, she asked Dregs about the man. “Eh? On the sacks? Ach, thas Dany – Fergasse’s boyo. What ye’want wit him? Oh ya? Fancy’s ya does he? Well, ya be careful lass – that boyo’s got more problems than the Emperor of Jhon, he does – and he’ll make’em your problems if ya let ‘im. Best steer clear of ‘im, stay focused on yer work. He’s trouble if you like ‘im – but he’s also trouble if ya don’t, if ya take my meaning. Don’t make Fergasse choose between yas.”

She learned from others that Dany was an addict – he smoked the seeds from the Jhonian mazak plant, which generated the dark circles around his eyes and the vacant stare.

She heeded Dregs advice and made every attempt to avoid Dany. But to her dismay, Dany had other ideas. Apparently infatuated by her, he began hanging out in her neighborhood, repeatedly offering to buy her dinner, drinks, or to join him in a harmless smoke. She rebuffed him – gently, carefully, always saying that she had something to get done for his father. More than once she had to signal Dregs to intercept them and provide an escape. She began to stay away from the house more – Vari had enough money and was getting old enough to take care of herself and most of the chores at home while Meav earned their keep.

She used the time to hone her skills every day and the exciting life on the edge became like a drug to her. What started as a tactic to avoid Dany soon became a need to spend more and more time finding ways to complete the jobs allotted to her in the most impressive way possible. Vari was left to fend for herself as Meav was gone more and more, but Meav told herself Vari would have to learn to manage the home at some point, which assuaged her guilt at not being home with her sister.

One night, exhausted from nearly two solid days of casing a new ship that had arrived, she came home and found Vari in her bed – with Dany lying next to her. From the look of it, they had apparently been celebrating for days – there were clothes and half-eaten meals everywhere. The bitter-sweet smell of mazak hit her nostrils, and she noticed several pipes were strewn about, full of the dark tarry residue the drug leaves.

Meav was incensed – Vari had ruined everything! Now what was she going to do?

She carefully stepped over Dany and shook Vari, whispering for her to get up. But the girl remained prone, motionless. She shook harder, finally pulling her hard and flipping her over – to recoil in horror as the wide, sightless eyes of her sister stared back at her from dark hooded sockets, the open lips tinged blue.

Meav stumbled back against the wall, her heart pounding. She couldn’t think. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

She started as Dany mumbled something and rolled over onto one arm, lifting himself up on his elbow. His heavy-lidded eyes revealed he was still in the throes of the drug. He reached out to Vari, touching the dead girls arm. A minute later, a giggle erupted from him.

“I told…told you. You got to…to work up to…to it. Can’t be doing what I do. Sil…silly…girl.”

He flopped down, finally noticing Meav. “Oh…hey. You’re here. That’s great – I really was interested in you more anyway.” His eyes fluttered closed again, and he resumed gently snoring.

That day Meav picked up her Da's hammer for the last time in doing so ended her time in the guild, and guildmaster's son's life.

She looked once more in the mirror. Meav was dead, and Darithe reborn from her ashes. A dark phoenix for sure. She gathered her meager belongs and wrapped herself in her father oversized cloak and started outside. She glanced once more back at the smithy and then was gone. She walked on leaving the past behind.

A new town then, one where she is unknown. A place to disappear. The further from The Brotherhood, the better. Getting on a ship was too dangerous – The Brotherhood controlled the river and sea trade, she would be seen and her suspicious departure noted, if not prevented altogether. No, she had to leave by land.

In the dark of night, she stole down the South Road, which followed the coast all the way to Avis Armois. Far from the Capitol, perhaps there she could shake pursuit long enough to come up with a more long-term plan. The Mire Queen now beckoned to her which seemed appropriate somehow having become mired herself. As she walked she whispered a soft prayer (to whom she did not know) for forgiveness. But in her heart she knew forgiveness was reserved for those who deserved it.

The best steel doesn't always shine the brightest. Her da had taught her that and she thought of him as she walked south towards Avis Armois, the greatcloak wrapped around her due to the cool of the morn. She could still faintly smell him on it and those smells were comforting, almost as if he still embraced her in the folds of that big cloak. She breathed them in and smiled thinking of him, the pungent smell of the corrosive oils he used to clean his tools were there, and the pleasant smokey aroma of the coals of his forge still clung to the threads, and the musky smell of sweat after a good hard day of honest... She stopped abruptly and bit her lower lip. She sighed, the past is written. She could not change it no matter how much she wished to. But the future is a blank page. And that she could write.

She spotted a small family going in the opposite direction approaching, a young man, his pretty wife and two small girls tugging at their parent's cloaks. She smiled and nodded to them as their paths crossed. Her mind calling back memories of her own youth and her sister Vari. She turned and caught back up to the family offering them most of her fruit. It wouldn't last long and she knew she couldn't eat it all before it went bad. She kept a stem of grapes for herself and waved to them as they continued their journey farther away from her. She returned to the path she had chosen and walked on alone.

Landsoftheblacksea:Main Page/players/danithe thorne

2021-01-21T00:48:04Z

Darithe: /* Equipment */

[[ Landsoftheblacksea:Main_Page#Player_Characters | '''Return to the Main Page''']]

A woman running from her past and perhaps seeking redemption.

[[File:ZZDarithe2C.jpg | thumb]]

== Basics ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Character Name !! Player Name !! Race !! Class !! Alignment !! AC !! Experience !! Hit Points
|-
| Darithe Thorne (Meav Delte) || Desconocida || Human || Thief 3 || Chaotic Good || 7 (With Dex Adj) || 1250|| 11
|-
|}

== Physical ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Age !! Height !! Weight !! Eye Colour !! Hair Colour
|-
| 19 || 5'6" || 110 lbs || Light Green || Black
|}

== Stats ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:left"
|-
| Strength || '''11''' || ''Wt. Allowance: 40#; Max Press: 115#; Open Doors: 6; Bend Bars: 2%''
|-
| Dexterity || '''17''' || ''+2 React. Adj; +2 Missile Att. Adj.; -3 Def. Adj.''
|-
| Constitution || '''12''' || ''Sys. Shock: 80%; Res. Surv: 85%''
|-
| Intelligence || '''14''' || ''#Lang: 4''
|-
| Wisdom || '''10''' ||
|-
| Charisma || '''16''' || ''Mx. Hench: 8; Loy. Base: +4; Reac. Adj.: +5''
|-
|}

+10% XP Bonus

== Saving Throws ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Paralyzation/Poison/Death Magic !! Rod, Staff or Wand !! Petrification or Plymorph !! Breath Weapon !! Spell
|-
|| 13 || 14 || 13 || 15 || 12
|}
== Weapon Proficiencies ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Dagger'''
|-
|'''Hand Crossbow'''
|-
|}
== Nonweapon Proficiencies ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Blacksmithing (11)'''
|-
|'''Cooking (14)'''
|-
|'''Healing (8)'''
|-
|'''Herbalism (12)'''
|-
|'''Swimming (11)'''
|-
|'''Tumbling (17)'''
|-
|}

== Thieves Abilities ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
| '''Pick Pockets''' || 15% + 5% (DEX) + 5% (no armor) =25% ||
|-
| '''Open Locks''' || 30% + 10% (DEX) = 50% ||
|-
| '''Find/Remove Traps''' || 40% ||
|-
| '''Move Silently''' || 30% + 5% (DEX) + 10% (no armor) = 45% || Movement reduced to 1/3
|-
| '''Hide in Shadows''' || 35% + 5% (DEX) + 5% (no armor) = 45% ||
|-
| '''Detect Noise''' || 18% ||
|-
| '''Climb Walls''' || 60% + 10% (no armor) = 70% ||
|-
| '''Read Languages''' || 2% ||
|-
|}

== Encumbrance ==
{| class="wikitable"
|'''Unencumbered'''
|'''''0-40'''''
|-
|'''Light'''
|'''''41-58'''''
|-
|'''Moderate'''
|'''''59-76'''''
|-
|'''Heavy'''
|'''''77-96'''''
|-
|'''Severe'''
|'''''97-110'''''
|-
|}
== Equipment ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Clothing'''
|'''''5 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Leather Armor'''
|'''15 lbs'''
|-
|'''Backpack'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Small pouch'''
|'''''0.5 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Hand Crossbow'''
|'''''3 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Dagger (x2)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|-style="color: blue"
|'''Dwarven made Dagger (x2)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Quiver'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Quarrels (20)'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Hooded Lantern'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''3 Flasks of Lantern Oil'''
|'''''3 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Flint & Steel'''
|'''''*'''''
|-
|'''Dry Rations (3 days)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Waterskin'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Thieves Picks'''
|'''''1 lb'''''
|-
|'''Fine Quality Deck of Playing Cards'''
|'''''1/2 Ounce'''''
|-
|'''Total'''
|'''''39.5 lbs'''''
|-
|}

== Equipment Stored in Rooms ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Numerous Changes of Clothing'''
|-
|'''Set of Obsidian Dice With Bone Pips'''
|-
|'''Hooded Fine Fur Cloak'''
|-
|'''Fine Women's Clothing from Veniri'''
|-
|}

== Languages ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Common'''
|-
|'''Vox Mercanti'''
|-
|'''Thieves' Cant'''
|-
|}

== Background ==
[[File:ZZDarithe2L.jpg]]

She stared at her reflection in the mirror for a long time. The red hair would take some getting used to. The shorn locks of her previously long tresses less so, as that frequently just got in the way of her skills. No sign of her Da's dark hair now, the only part she truly inherited from him. Just as the freckles across her pale features came from her mother. Her hands were near as red as the hair stained from the dye. Somehow that seemed apt. She scrubbed the dye from her hands in the washbasin. At least that stain could be washed away...

Darithe Thorne was her name now. Once she had been Meav Delte, the daughter of a blacksmith in the town of Belies-ar-Weil, located mid-way along the coast of Athervon between Avis Inia, the seat of the Kingdom, to the North, and Avis Armois, the oldest and most far-flung of the Kingdom’s major cities, to the South. Her father was as dumb as the anvil he pounded everyday, but he was kind and had a ready smile, and was gentle with his young daughters Meav and her sister Vari. He did his best to support his two daughters on what little income he could make from shoeing horses and hammering out crude nails to build the rickety buildings in this poor section of town.

Their mother passed from a fever when Vari was five. Meav was three years older and did the best she could for her Da and young sister. She took care of them and when money was short she did what she had to for a few more coins to add to their larder. She helped in the smithy as much as she could and took care of delivering special orders for her Da. She found with a pretty smile she would sometimes even get tips, not much, but everything helped. She was poor but she was bright. She quickly picked up some smithing skills from her father and taught herself to read and write, which was rare for the people from her part of town.

Belis-ar-Weil was neither particularly large nor particularly small; but it held a strategic location at the mouth of the Aumine river, which carried the riches of the Kingdom’s interior to the sea, where it was then sent to either Avis Inia or Avis Armois for final destinations. Due to this vast amount of traffic in lucrative goods, the town had more than its fair share of criminal element, intent on skimming some of the proceeds for themselves. While there were a number of gangs that operated around the town, all paid their respects to the notorious Five Points Brotherhood. The Brotherhood was a huge network of Thieves that had bases over nearly the entire Kingdom – at least, that was what was said. Based out of the Capitol, The Brotherhood controlled virtually all the illegal traffic flowing on the land route between Avis Inia and Tras Veniri, and had a heavy hand in distribution to points beyond inside of Athervon. No one of sane mind crossed The Brotherhood – their operatives and informants were everywhere, and they did not hesitate to deal with problems that threatened their profitable position.

Meav had never planned to join them. To the contrary, she had always steered clear of the young gangs of new recruits, and ignored their catcalls, offers, and sometimes threats as she made her deliveries in town – that she could deal with. What really made her pick up her pace was the way one of the older members – a street captain known as Dregs – looked at her. He didn’t seem to be looking at the pretty young woman with leering eyes and lustful sneers like the others. No, Dregs always seemed to be assessing whether she might be useful to him, whether she could be an asset to his operation. His cold gaze watched her every time she passed, but he never said a thing – just gave a slight touch to his cap in greeting after their eyes met, and then turned back to his business.

She choked back a laugh thinking about it now.

She managed to keep things on an even keel until her 17th year. That was the year her Da passed – walking home at night after the neighborhood innkeeper had rewarded him with a few pints for some emergency repairs to some of his stable equipment, he must’ve never seen the horseman, riding at a full gallop along the dark road. She ran out at the sounds and screams to see him lying in the mud, blood beginning to form a small pool around him. The rider never stopped, disappearing into the darkness.

After Da was in the ground, she assessed the situation, and realized something had to give. She didn't see herself or Vari swinging a hammer to make a living. She retched at the thought of some of the things women did for coin near the docks – she would die before that became her fate. Then the faces of the gang captains came to her – that cold gaze, assessing her. Perhaps she could be of use to them.

She had no idea how to initiate a conversation about this, but her mind was made up. She walked directly up to Dregs through the crowd of his young proteges, the blood that was pounding in her ears drowning out their infantile suggestions and insults.

“I need some work.” She blurted it out without even knowing it. She held her breath waiting for him to speak.

For a moment, he didn’t – just looked at her again with the same cold eyes.

Finally, he spoke. “B’out time. Let’s get ya to Fergasse, see what he has fer ya.” His voice was rough, thin, fitting his grizzled appearance perfectly. She realized it was the first time she had ever heard it.

Fergasse was the local Master of The Brotherhood, overseeing their operations in the town. If he had ever been a working thief, there was no way to tell now – he was a very fat man, who spent more time overseeing account books than picking pockets. But he was the ordained boss for The Brotherhood in town, and he did not need to worry about his girth – there were plenty of fit gang members who would take care of any of Fergasse’s problems.

Dregs brought her to a warehouse by the docks, one she had always been warned to stay away from by Ma & Da. She had to pass by room after room of intimidating looking men, and one even patted her down and felt her up making sure she didn’t have a weapon. Finally she was in Fergasse’s “office”, a large room filled with boxes, bags, sacks, barrels, crates, chests, and every manner of thing used to transport goods – as well as piles and piles of leather-bound books: ship’s journals, logs, account books, inventory scrolls. Fergasse supervised a small army of men moving things in and out while another army was copying and modifying books, writing so fast they were sweating. Fergasse’s eye flicked to her after Dreg was able to whisper something in his ear, and he spat something back she didn’t hear, before he turned back to conducting the mayhem in the room.

Dreg took her back to her place and told her how it would work. She would start just doing "special deliveries" and watching for the town guard who's eyes were easily distracted by a lithe darkhaired lass. It was easy work for the most part, and she was good at it – folks knew her Da was gone, and men circled her like buzzards if she gave them the chance, wanting to be there when her finances or her will finally broke.

But those tasks weren't enough to support her and Vari; soon, she was pestering Dreg for bigger opportunity. Happy with her performance, he graduated her to more advanced work for the guild.

She took to the tasks like a bird to the air. It excited her. It gave her freedom from the drudgery of the smithy. And the coins to be had (earned?) were greater than she had ever seen. Though just eighteen by then, she quickly became a rising star in the guild. Soon enough, Dregs re-introduced her to Fergasse at the Bosses’ request. Fergasse wanted to have a look at this new recruit who was making him so much money.

As Fergasse spoke about the impression she had made, and that if she played her cards right she could have a bright future in The Brotherhood, she noticed a young man lounging back on a pile of grain sacks, staring at her with dark, hooded eyes. She had seen that stare before, but she was not that person anymore. She ignored the look, her lip curling into a mild sneer to express her disinterest.

After the meeting was over, she asked Dregs about the man. “Eh? On the sacks? Ach, thas Dany – Fergasse’s boyo. What ye’want wit him? Oh ya? Fancy’s ya does he? Well, ya be careful lass – that boyo’s got more problems than the Emperor of Jhon, he does – and he’ll make’em your problems if ya let ‘im. Best steer clear of ‘im, stay focused on yer work. He’s trouble if you like ‘im – but he’s also trouble if ya don’t, if ya take my meaning. Don’t make Fergasse choose between yas.”

She learned from others that Dany was an addict – he smoked the seeds from the Jhonian mazak plant, which generated the dark circles around his eyes and the vacant stare.

She heeded Dregs advice and made every attempt to avoid Dany. But to her dismay, Dany had other ideas. Apparently infatuated by her, he began hanging out in her neighborhood, repeatedly offering to buy her dinner, drinks, or to join him in a harmless smoke. She rebuffed him – gently, carefully, always saying that she had something to get done for his father. More than once she had to signal Dregs to intercept them and provide an escape. She began to stay away from the house more – Vari had enough money and was getting old enough to take care of herself and most of the chores at home while Meav earned their keep.

She used the time to hone her skills every day and the exciting life on the edge became like a drug to her. What started as a tactic to avoid Dany soon became a need to spend more and more time finding ways to complete the jobs allotted to her in the most impressive way possible. Vari was left to fend for herself as Meav was gone more and more, but Meav told herself Vari would have to learn to manage the home at some point, which assuaged her guilt at not being home with her sister.

One night, exhausted from nearly two solid days of casing a new ship that had arrived, she came home and found Vari in her bed – with Dany lying next to her. From the look of it, they had apparently been celebrating for days – there were clothes and half-eaten meals everywhere. The bitter-sweet smell of mazak hit her nostrils, and she noticed several pipes were strewn about, full of the dark tarry residue the drug leaves.

Meav was incensed – Vari had ruined everything! Now what was she going to do?

She carefully stepped over Dany and shook Vari, whispering for her to get up. But the girl remained prone, motionless. She shook harder, finally pulling her hard and flipping her over – to recoil in horror as the wide, sightless eyes of her sister stared back at her from dark hooded sockets, the open lips tinged blue.

Meav stumbled back against the wall, her heart pounding. She couldn’t think. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

She started as Dany mumbled something and rolled over onto one arm, lifting himself up on his elbow. His heavy-lidded eyes revealed he was still in the throes of the drug. He reached out to Vari, touching the dead girls arm. A minute later, a giggle erupted from him.

“I told…told you. You got to…to work up to…to it. Can’t be doing what I do. Sil…silly…girl.”

He flopped down, finally noticing Meav. “Oh…hey. You’re here. That’s great – I really was interested in you more anyway.” His eyes fluttered closed again, and he resumed gently snoring.

That day Meav picked up her Da's hammer for the last time in doing so ended her time in the guild, and guildmaster's son's life.

She looked once more in the mirror. Meav was dead, and Darithe reborn from her ashes. A dark phoenix for sure. She gathered her meager belongs and wrapped herself in her father oversized cloak and started outside. She glanced once more back at the smithy and then was gone. She walked on leaving the past behind.

A new town then, one where she is unknown. A place to disappear. The further from The Brotherhood, the better. Getting on a ship was too dangerous – The Brotherhood controlled the river and sea trade, she would be seen and her suspicious departure noted, if not prevented altogether. No, she had to leave by land.

In the dark of night, she stole down the South Road, which followed the coast all the way to Avis Armois. Far from the Capitol, perhaps there she could shake pursuit long enough to come up with a more long-term plan. The Mire Queen now beckoned to her which seemed appropriate somehow having become mired herself. As she walked she whispered a soft prayer (to whom she did not know) for forgiveness. But in her heart she knew forgiveness was reserved for those who deserved it.

The best steel doesn't always shine the brightest. Her da had taught her that and she thought of him as she walked south towards Avis Armois, the greatcloak wrapped around her due to the cool of the morn. She could still faintly smell him on it and those smells were comforting, almost as if he still embraced her in the folds of that big cloak. She breathed them in and smiled thinking of him, the pungent smell of the corrosive oils he used to clean his tools were there, and the pleasant smokey aroma of the coals of his forge still clung to the threads, and the musky smell of sweat after a good hard day of honest... She stopped abruptly and bit her lower lip. She sighed, the past is written. She could not change it no matter how much she wished to. But the future is a blank page. And that she could write.

She spotted a small family going in the opposite direction approaching, a young man, his pretty wife and two small girls tugging at their parent's cloaks. She smiled and nodded to them as their paths crossed. Her mind calling back memories of her own youth and her sister Vari. She turned and caught back up to the family offering them most of her fruit. It wouldn't last long and she knew she couldn't eat it all before it went bad. She kept a stem of grapes for herself and waved to them as they continued their journey farther away from her. She returned to the path she had chosen and walked on alone.

Landsoftheblacksea:Main Page/players/danithe thorne

2021-01-21T00:45:36Z

Darithe: /* Equipment */

[[ Landsoftheblacksea:Main_Page#Player_Characters | '''Return to the Main Page''']]

A woman running from her past and perhaps seeking redemption.

[[File:ZZDarithe2C.jpg | thumb]]

== Basics ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Character Name !! Player Name !! Race !! Class !! Alignment !! AC !! Experience !! Hit Points
|-
| Darithe Thorne (Meav Delte) || Desconocida || Human || Thief 3 || Chaotic Good || 7 (With Dex Adj) || 1250|| 11
|-
|}

== Physical ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Age !! Height !! Weight !! Eye Colour !! Hair Colour
|-
| 19 || 5'6" || 110 lbs || Light Green || Black
|}

== Stats ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:left"
|-
| Strength || '''11''' || ''Wt. Allowance: 40#; Max Press: 115#; Open Doors: 6; Bend Bars: 2%''
|-
| Dexterity || '''17''' || ''+2 React. Adj; +2 Missile Att. Adj.; -3 Def. Adj.''
|-
| Constitution || '''12''' || ''Sys. Shock: 80%; Res. Surv: 85%''
|-
| Intelligence || '''14''' || ''#Lang: 4''
|-
| Wisdom || '''10''' ||
|-
| Charisma || '''16''' || ''Mx. Hench: 8; Loy. Base: +4; Reac. Adj.: +5''
|-
|}

+10% XP Bonus

== Saving Throws ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Paralyzation/Poison/Death Magic !! Rod, Staff or Wand !! Petrification or Plymorph !! Breath Weapon !! Spell
|-
|| 13 || 14 || 13 || 15 || 12
|}
== Weapon Proficiencies ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Dagger'''
|-
|'''Hand Crossbow'''
|-
|}
== Nonweapon Proficiencies ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Blacksmithing (11)'''
|-
|'''Cooking (14)'''
|-
|'''Healing (8)'''
|-
|'''Herbalism (12)'''
|-
|'''Swimming (11)'''
|-
|'''Tumbling (17)'''
|-
|}

== Thieves Abilities ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
| '''Pick Pockets''' || 15% + 5% (DEX) + 5% (no armor) =25% ||
|-
| '''Open Locks''' || 30% + 10% (DEX) = 50% ||
|-
| '''Find/Remove Traps''' || 40% ||
|-
| '''Move Silently''' || 30% + 5% (DEX) + 10% (no armor) = 45% || Movement reduced to 1/3
|-
| '''Hide in Shadows''' || 35% + 5% (DEX) + 5% (no armor) = 45% ||
|-
| '''Detect Noise''' || 18% ||
|-
| '''Climb Walls''' || 60% + 10% (no armor) = 70% ||
|-
| '''Read Languages''' || 2% ||
|-
|}

== Encumbrance ==
{| class="wikitable"
|'''Unencumbered'''
|'''''0-40'''''
|-
|'''Light'''
|'''''41-58'''''
|-
|'''Moderate'''
|'''''59-76'''''
|-
|'''Heavy'''
|'''''77-96'''''
|-
|'''Severe'''
|'''''97-110'''''
|-
|}
== Equipment ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Clothing'''
|'''''5 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Leather Armor'''
|'''15 lbs'''
|-
|'''Backpack'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Small pouch'''
|'''''0.5 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Hand Crossbow'''
|'''''3 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Dagger (x2)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|-style="color: blue"
|'''Dwarven made Dagger (x2)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Quiver'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Quarrels (20)'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Hooded Lantern'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Flint & Steel'''
|'''''*'''''
|-
|'''Dry Rations (3 days)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Waterskin'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Thieves Picks'''
|'''''1 lb'''''
|-
|'''Fine Quality Deck of Playing Cards'''
|'''''1/2 Ounce'''''
|-
|'''Total'''
|'''''36.5 lbs'''''
|-
|}

== Equipment Stored in Rooms ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Numerous Changes of Clothing'''
|-
|'''Set of Obsidian Dice With Bone Pips'''
|-
|'''Hooded Fine Fur Cloak'''
|-
|'''Fine Women's Clothing from Veniri'''
|-
|}

== Languages ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Common'''
|-
|'''Vox Mercanti'''
|-
|'''Thieves' Cant'''
|-
|}

== Background ==
[[File:ZZDarithe2L.jpg]]

She stared at her reflection in the mirror for a long time. The red hair would take some getting used to. The shorn locks of her previously long tresses less so, as that frequently just got in the way of her skills. No sign of her Da's dark hair now, the only part she truly inherited from him. Just as the freckles across her pale features came from her mother. Her hands were near as red as the hair stained from the dye. Somehow that seemed apt. She scrubbed the dye from her hands in the washbasin. At least that stain could be washed away...

Darithe Thorne was her name now. Once she had been Meav Delte, the daughter of a blacksmith in the town of Belies-ar-Weil, located mid-way along the coast of Athervon between Avis Inia, the seat of the Kingdom, to the North, and Avis Armois, the oldest and most far-flung of the Kingdom’s major cities, to the South. Her father was as dumb as the anvil he pounded everyday, but he was kind and had a ready smile, and was gentle with his young daughters Meav and her sister Vari. He did his best to support his two daughters on what little income he could make from shoeing horses and hammering out crude nails to build the rickety buildings in this poor section of town.

Their mother passed from a fever when Vari was five. Meav was three years older and did the best she could for her Da and young sister. She took care of them and when money was short she did what she had to for a few more coins to add to their larder. She helped in the smithy as much as she could and took care of delivering special orders for her Da. She found with a pretty smile she would sometimes even get tips, not much, but everything helped. She was poor but she was bright. She quickly picked up some smithing skills from her father and taught herself to read and write, which was rare for the people from her part of town.

Belis-ar-Weil was neither particularly large nor particularly small; but it held a strategic location at the mouth of the Aumine river, which carried the riches of the Kingdom’s interior to the sea, where it was then sent to either Avis Inia or Avis Armois for final destinations. Due to this vast amount of traffic in lucrative goods, the town had more than its fair share of criminal element, intent on skimming some of the proceeds for themselves. While there were a number of gangs that operated around the town, all paid their respects to the notorious Five Points Brotherhood. The Brotherhood was a huge network of Thieves that had bases over nearly the entire Kingdom – at least, that was what was said. Based out of the Capitol, The Brotherhood controlled virtually all the illegal traffic flowing on the land route between Avis Inia and Tras Veniri, and had a heavy hand in distribution to points beyond inside of Athervon. No one of sane mind crossed The Brotherhood – their operatives and informants were everywhere, and they did not hesitate to deal with problems that threatened their profitable position.

Meav had never planned to join them. To the contrary, she had always steered clear of the young gangs of new recruits, and ignored their catcalls, offers, and sometimes threats as she made her deliveries in town – that she could deal with. What really made her pick up her pace was the way one of the older members – a street captain known as Dregs – looked at her. He didn’t seem to be looking at the pretty young woman with leering eyes and lustful sneers like the others. No, Dregs always seemed to be assessing whether she might be useful to him, whether she could be an asset to his operation. His cold gaze watched her every time she passed, but he never said a thing – just gave a slight touch to his cap in greeting after their eyes met, and then turned back to his business.

She choked back a laugh thinking about it now.

She managed to keep things on an even keel until her 17th year. That was the year her Da passed – walking home at night after the neighborhood innkeeper had rewarded him with a few pints for some emergency repairs to some of his stable equipment, he must’ve never seen the horseman, riding at a full gallop along the dark road. She ran out at the sounds and screams to see him lying in the mud, blood beginning to form a small pool around him. The rider never stopped, disappearing into the darkness.

After Da was in the ground, she assessed the situation, and realized something had to give. She didn't see herself or Vari swinging a hammer to make a living. She retched at the thought of some of the things women did for coin near the docks – she would die before that became her fate. Then the faces of the gang captains came to her – that cold gaze, assessing her. Perhaps she could be of use to them.

She had no idea how to initiate a conversation about this, but her mind was made up. She walked directly up to Dregs through the crowd of his young proteges, the blood that was pounding in her ears drowning out their infantile suggestions and insults.

“I need some work.” She blurted it out without even knowing it. She held her breath waiting for him to speak.

For a moment, he didn’t – just looked at her again with the same cold eyes.

Finally, he spoke. “B’out time. Let’s get ya to Fergasse, see what he has fer ya.” His voice was rough, thin, fitting his grizzled appearance perfectly. She realized it was the first time she had ever heard it.

Fergasse was the local Master of The Brotherhood, overseeing their operations in the town. If he had ever been a working thief, there was no way to tell now – he was a very fat man, who spent more time overseeing account books than picking pockets. But he was the ordained boss for The Brotherhood in town, and he did not need to worry about his girth – there were plenty of fit gang members who would take care of any of Fergasse’s problems.

Dregs brought her to a warehouse by the docks, one she had always been warned to stay away from by Ma & Da. She had to pass by room after room of intimidating looking men, and one even patted her down and felt her up making sure she didn’t have a weapon. Finally she was in Fergasse’s “office”, a large room filled with boxes, bags, sacks, barrels, crates, chests, and every manner of thing used to transport goods – as well as piles and piles of leather-bound books: ship’s journals, logs, account books, inventory scrolls. Fergasse supervised a small army of men moving things in and out while another army was copying and modifying books, writing so fast they were sweating. Fergasse’s eye flicked to her after Dreg was able to whisper something in his ear, and he spat something back she didn’t hear, before he turned back to conducting the mayhem in the room.

Dreg took her back to her place and told her how it would work. She would start just doing "special deliveries" and watching for the town guard who's eyes were easily distracted by a lithe darkhaired lass. It was easy work for the most part, and she was good at it – folks knew her Da was gone, and men circled her like buzzards if she gave them the chance, wanting to be there when her finances or her will finally broke.

But those tasks weren't enough to support her and Vari; soon, she was pestering Dreg for bigger opportunity. Happy with her performance, he graduated her to more advanced work for the guild.

She took to the tasks like a bird to the air. It excited her. It gave her freedom from the drudgery of the smithy. And the coins to be had (earned?) were greater than she had ever seen. Though just eighteen by then, she quickly became a rising star in the guild. Soon enough, Dregs re-introduced her to Fergasse at the Bosses’ request. Fergasse wanted to have a look at this new recruit who was making him so much money.

As Fergasse spoke about the impression she had made, and that if she played her cards right she could have a bright future in The Brotherhood, she noticed a young man lounging back on a pile of grain sacks, staring at her with dark, hooded eyes. She had seen that stare before, but she was not that person anymore. She ignored the look, her lip curling into a mild sneer to express her disinterest.

After the meeting was over, she asked Dregs about the man. “Eh? On the sacks? Ach, thas Dany – Fergasse’s boyo. What ye’want wit him? Oh ya? Fancy’s ya does he? Well, ya be careful lass – that boyo’s got more problems than the Emperor of Jhon, he does – and he’ll make’em your problems if ya let ‘im. Best steer clear of ‘im, stay focused on yer work. He’s trouble if you like ‘im – but he’s also trouble if ya don’t, if ya take my meaning. Don’t make Fergasse choose between yas.”

She learned from others that Dany was an addict – he smoked the seeds from the Jhonian mazak plant, which generated the dark circles around his eyes and the vacant stare.

She heeded Dregs advice and made every attempt to avoid Dany. But to her dismay, Dany had other ideas. Apparently infatuated by her, he began hanging out in her neighborhood, repeatedly offering to buy her dinner, drinks, or to join him in a harmless smoke. She rebuffed him – gently, carefully, always saying that she had something to get done for his father. More than once she had to signal Dregs to intercept them and provide an escape. She began to stay away from the house more – Vari had enough money and was getting old enough to take care of herself and most of the chores at home while Meav earned their keep.

She used the time to hone her skills every day and the exciting life on the edge became like a drug to her. What started as a tactic to avoid Dany soon became a need to spend more and more time finding ways to complete the jobs allotted to her in the most impressive way possible. Vari was left to fend for herself as Meav was gone more and more, but Meav told herself Vari would have to learn to manage the home at some point, which assuaged her guilt at not being home with her sister.

One night, exhausted from nearly two solid days of casing a new ship that had arrived, she came home and found Vari in her bed – with Dany lying next to her. From the look of it, they had apparently been celebrating for days – there were clothes and half-eaten meals everywhere. The bitter-sweet smell of mazak hit her nostrils, and she noticed several pipes were strewn about, full of the dark tarry residue the drug leaves.

Meav was incensed – Vari had ruined everything! Now what was she going to do?

She carefully stepped over Dany and shook Vari, whispering for her to get up. But the girl remained prone, motionless. She shook harder, finally pulling her hard and flipping her over – to recoil in horror as the wide, sightless eyes of her sister stared back at her from dark hooded sockets, the open lips tinged blue.

Meav stumbled back against the wall, her heart pounding. She couldn’t think. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

She started as Dany mumbled something and rolled over onto one arm, lifting himself up on his elbow. His heavy-lidded eyes revealed he was still in the throes of the drug. He reached out to Vari, touching the dead girls arm. A minute later, a giggle erupted from him.

“I told…told you. You got to…to work up to…to it. Can’t be doing what I do. Sil…silly…girl.”

He flopped down, finally noticing Meav. “Oh…hey. You’re here. That’s great – I really was interested in you more anyway.” His eyes fluttered closed again, and he resumed gently snoring.

That day Meav picked up her Da's hammer for the last time in doing so ended her time in the guild, and guildmaster's son's life.

She looked once more in the mirror. Meav was dead, and Darithe reborn from her ashes. A dark phoenix for sure. She gathered her meager belongs and wrapped herself in her father oversized cloak and started outside. She glanced once more back at the smithy and then was gone. She walked on leaving the past behind.

A new town then, one where she is unknown. A place to disappear. The further from The Brotherhood, the better. Getting on a ship was too dangerous – The Brotherhood controlled the river and sea trade, she would be seen and her suspicious departure noted, if not prevented altogether. No, she had to leave by land.

In the dark of night, she stole down the South Road, which followed the coast all the way to Avis Armois. Far from the Capitol, perhaps there she could shake pursuit long enough to come up with a more long-term plan. The Mire Queen now beckoned to her which seemed appropriate somehow having become mired herself. As she walked she whispered a soft prayer (to whom she did not know) for forgiveness. But in her heart she knew forgiveness was reserved for those who deserved it.

The best steel doesn't always shine the brightest. Her da had taught her that and she thought of him as she walked south towards Avis Armois, the greatcloak wrapped around her due to the cool of the morn. She could still faintly smell him on it and those smells were comforting, almost as if he still embraced her in the folds of that big cloak. She breathed them in and smiled thinking of him, the pungent smell of the corrosive oils he used to clean his tools were there, and the pleasant smokey aroma of the coals of his forge still clung to the threads, and the musky smell of sweat after a good hard day of honest... She stopped abruptly and bit her lower lip. She sighed, the past is written. She could not change it no matter how much she wished to. But the future is a blank page. And that she could write.

She spotted a small family going in the opposite direction approaching, a young man, his pretty wife and two small girls tugging at their parent's cloaks. She smiled and nodded to them as their paths crossed. Her mind calling back memories of her own youth and her sister Vari. She turned and caught back up to the family offering them most of her fruit. It wouldn't last long and she knew she couldn't eat it all before it went bad. She kept a stem of grapes for herself and waved to them as they continued their journey farther away from her. She returned to the path she had chosen and walked on alone.

Landsoftheblacksea:Main Page/players/danithe thorne

2021-01-21T00:45:10Z

Darithe: /* Equipment */

[[ Landsoftheblacksea:Main_Page#Player_Characters | '''Return to the Main Page''']]

A woman running from her past and perhaps seeking redemption.

[[File:ZZDarithe2C.jpg | thumb]]

== Basics ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Character Name !! Player Name !! Race !! Class !! Alignment !! AC !! Experience !! Hit Points
|-
| Darithe Thorne (Meav Delte) || Desconocida || Human || Thief 3 || Chaotic Good || 7 (With Dex Adj) || 1250|| 11
|-
|}

== Physical ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Age !! Height !! Weight !! Eye Colour !! Hair Colour
|-
| 19 || 5'6" || 110 lbs || Light Green || Black
|}

== Stats ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:left"
|-
| Strength || '''11''' || ''Wt. Allowance: 40#; Max Press: 115#; Open Doors: 6; Bend Bars: 2%''
|-
| Dexterity || '''17''' || ''+2 React. Adj; +2 Missile Att. Adj.; -3 Def. Adj.''
|-
| Constitution || '''12''' || ''Sys. Shock: 80%; Res. Surv: 85%''
|-
| Intelligence || '''14''' || ''#Lang: 4''
|-
| Wisdom || '''10''' ||
|-
| Charisma || '''16''' || ''Mx. Hench: 8; Loy. Base: +4; Reac. Adj.: +5''
|-
|}

+10% XP Bonus

== Saving Throws ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Paralyzation/Poison/Death Magic !! Rod, Staff or Wand !! Petrification or Plymorph !! Breath Weapon !! Spell
|-
|| 13 || 14 || 13 || 15 || 12
|}
== Weapon Proficiencies ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Dagger'''
|-
|'''Hand Crossbow'''
|-
|}
== Nonweapon Proficiencies ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Blacksmithing (11)'''
|-
|'''Cooking (14)'''
|-
|'''Healing (8)'''
|-
|'''Herbalism (12)'''
|-
|'''Swimming (11)'''
|-
|'''Tumbling (17)'''
|-
|}

== Thieves Abilities ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
| '''Pick Pockets''' || 15% + 5% (DEX) + 5% (no armor) =25% ||
|-
| '''Open Locks''' || 30% + 10% (DEX) = 50% ||
|-
| '''Find/Remove Traps''' || 40% ||
|-
| '''Move Silently''' || 30% + 5% (DEX) + 10% (no armor) = 45% || Movement reduced to 1/3
|-
| '''Hide in Shadows''' || 35% + 5% (DEX) + 5% (no armor) = 45% ||
|-
| '''Detect Noise''' || 18% ||
|-
| '''Climb Walls''' || 60% + 10% (no armor) = 70% ||
|-
| '''Read Languages''' || 2% ||
|-
|}

== Encumbrance ==
{| class="wikitable"
|'''Unencumbered'''
|'''''0-40'''''
|-
|'''Light'''
|'''''41-58'''''
|-
|'''Moderate'''
|'''''59-76'''''
|-
|'''Heavy'''
|'''''77-96'''''
|-
|'''Severe'''
|'''''97-110'''''
|-
|}
== Equipment ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Clothing'''
|'''''5 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Leather Armor'''
|'''15 lbs'''
|-
|'''Backpack'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Small pouch'''
|'''''0.5 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Hand Crossbow'''
|'''''3 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Dagger (x2)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|-style="color: blue"
|'''Dwarven made Dagger (x2)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Quiver'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Quarrels (20)'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Hooded Lantern'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Flint & Steel'''
|'''''*'''''
|-
|'''Dry Rations (3 days)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Waterskin'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Thieves Picks'''
|'''''1 lb'''''
|-
|'''Fine Quality Deck of Playing Cards'''
|'''''1/2 Ounce'''''
|-
|'''Total'''
|'''''34.5 lbs'''''
|-
|}

== Equipment Stored in Rooms ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Numerous Changes of Clothing'''
|-
|'''Set of Obsidian Dice With Bone Pips'''
|-
|'''Hooded Fine Fur Cloak'''
|-
|'''Fine Women's Clothing from Veniri'''
|-
|}

== Languages ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Common'''
|-
|'''Vox Mercanti'''
|-
|'''Thieves' Cant'''
|-
|}

== Background ==
[[File:ZZDarithe2L.jpg]]

She stared at her reflection in the mirror for a long time. The red hair would take some getting used to. The shorn locks of her previously long tresses less so, as that frequently just got in the way of her skills. No sign of her Da's dark hair now, the only part she truly inherited from him. Just as the freckles across her pale features came from her mother. Her hands were near as red as the hair stained from the dye. Somehow that seemed apt. She scrubbed the dye from her hands in the washbasin. At least that stain could be washed away...

Darithe Thorne was her name now. Once she had been Meav Delte, the daughter of a blacksmith in the town of Belies-ar-Weil, located mid-way along the coast of Athervon between Avis Inia, the seat of the Kingdom, to the North, and Avis Armois, the oldest and most far-flung of the Kingdom’s major cities, to the South. Her father was as dumb as the anvil he pounded everyday, but he was kind and had a ready smile, and was gentle with his young daughters Meav and her sister Vari. He did his best to support his two daughters on what little income he could make from shoeing horses and hammering out crude nails to build the rickety buildings in this poor section of town.

Their mother passed from a fever when Vari was five. Meav was three years older and did the best she could for her Da and young sister. She took care of them and when money was short she did what she had to for a few more coins to add to their larder. She helped in the smithy as much as she could and took care of delivering special orders for her Da. She found with a pretty smile she would sometimes even get tips, not much, but everything helped. She was poor but she was bright. She quickly picked up some smithing skills from her father and taught herself to read and write, which was rare for the people from her part of town.

Belis-ar-Weil was neither particularly large nor particularly small; but it held a strategic location at the mouth of the Aumine river, which carried the riches of the Kingdom’s interior to the sea, where it was then sent to either Avis Inia or Avis Armois for final destinations. Due to this vast amount of traffic in lucrative goods, the town had more than its fair share of criminal element, intent on skimming some of the proceeds for themselves. While there were a number of gangs that operated around the town, all paid their respects to the notorious Five Points Brotherhood. The Brotherhood was a huge network of Thieves that had bases over nearly the entire Kingdom – at least, that was what was said. Based out of the Capitol, The Brotherhood controlled virtually all the illegal traffic flowing on the land route between Avis Inia and Tras Veniri, and had a heavy hand in distribution to points beyond inside of Athervon. No one of sane mind crossed The Brotherhood – their operatives and informants were everywhere, and they did not hesitate to deal with problems that threatened their profitable position.

Meav had never planned to join them. To the contrary, she had always steered clear of the young gangs of new recruits, and ignored their catcalls, offers, and sometimes threats as she made her deliveries in town – that she could deal with. What really made her pick up her pace was the way one of the older members – a street captain known as Dregs – looked at her. He didn’t seem to be looking at the pretty young woman with leering eyes and lustful sneers like the others. No, Dregs always seemed to be assessing whether she might be useful to him, whether she could be an asset to his operation. His cold gaze watched her every time she passed, but he never said a thing – just gave a slight touch to his cap in greeting after their eyes met, and then turned back to his business.

She choked back a laugh thinking about it now.

She managed to keep things on an even keel until her 17th year. That was the year her Da passed – walking home at night after the neighborhood innkeeper had rewarded him with a few pints for some emergency repairs to some of his stable equipment, he must’ve never seen the horseman, riding at a full gallop along the dark road. She ran out at the sounds and screams to see him lying in the mud, blood beginning to form a small pool around him. The rider never stopped, disappearing into the darkness.

After Da was in the ground, she assessed the situation, and realized something had to give. She didn't see herself or Vari swinging a hammer to make a living. She retched at the thought of some of the things women did for coin near the docks – she would die before that became her fate. Then the faces of the gang captains came to her – that cold gaze, assessing her. Perhaps she could be of use to them.

She had no idea how to initiate a conversation about this, but her mind was made up. She walked directly up to Dregs through the crowd of his young proteges, the blood that was pounding in her ears drowning out their infantile suggestions and insults.

“I need some work.” She blurted it out without even knowing it. She held her breath waiting for him to speak.

For a moment, he didn’t – just looked at her again with the same cold eyes.

Finally, he spoke. “B’out time. Let’s get ya to Fergasse, see what he has fer ya.” His voice was rough, thin, fitting his grizzled appearance perfectly. She realized it was the first time she had ever heard it.

Fergasse was the local Master of The Brotherhood, overseeing their operations in the town. If he had ever been a working thief, there was no way to tell now – he was a very fat man, who spent more time overseeing account books than picking pockets. But he was the ordained boss for The Brotherhood in town, and he did not need to worry about his girth – there were plenty of fit gang members who would take care of any of Fergasse’s problems.

Dregs brought her to a warehouse by the docks, one she had always been warned to stay away from by Ma & Da. She had to pass by room after room of intimidating looking men, and one even patted her down and felt her up making sure she didn’t have a weapon. Finally she was in Fergasse’s “office”, a large room filled with boxes, bags, sacks, barrels, crates, chests, and every manner of thing used to transport goods – as well as piles and piles of leather-bound books: ship’s journals, logs, account books, inventory scrolls. Fergasse supervised a small army of men moving things in and out while another army was copying and modifying books, writing so fast they were sweating. Fergasse’s eye flicked to her after Dreg was able to whisper something in his ear, and he spat something back she didn’t hear, before he turned back to conducting the mayhem in the room.

Dreg took her back to her place and told her how it would work. She would start just doing "special deliveries" and watching for the town guard who's eyes were easily distracted by a lithe darkhaired lass. It was easy work for the most part, and she was good at it – folks knew her Da was gone, and men circled her like buzzards if she gave them the chance, wanting to be there when her finances or her will finally broke.

But those tasks weren't enough to support her and Vari; soon, she was pestering Dreg for bigger opportunity. Happy with her performance, he graduated her to more advanced work for the guild.

She took to the tasks like a bird to the air. It excited her. It gave her freedom from the drudgery of the smithy. And the coins to be had (earned?) were greater than she had ever seen. Though just eighteen by then, she quickly became a rising star in the guild. Soon enough, Dregs re-introduced her to Fergasse at the Bosses’ request. Fergasse wanted to have a look at this new recruit who was making him so much money.

As Fergasse spoke about the impression she had made, and that if she played her cards right she could have a bright future in The Brotherhood, she noticed a young man lounging back on a pile of grain sacks, staring at her with dark, hooded eyes. She had seen that stare before, but she was not that person anymore. She ignored the look, her lip curling into a mild sneer to express her disinterest.

After the meeting was over, she asked Dregs about the man. “Eh? On the sacks? Ach, thas Dany – Fergasse’s boyo. What ye’want wit him? Oh ya? Fancy’s ya does he? Well, ya be careful lass – that boyo’s got more problems than the Emperor of Jhon, he does – and he’ll make’em your problems if ya let ‘im. Best steer clear of ‘im, stay focused on yer work. He’s trouble if you like ‘im – but he’s also trouble if ya don’t, if ya take my meaning. Don’t make Fergasse choose between yas.”

She learned from others that Dany was an addict – he smoked the seeds from the Jhonian mazak plant, which generated the dark circles around his eyes and the vacant stare.

She heeded Dregs advice and made every attempt to avoid Dany. But to her dismay, Dany had other ideas. Apparently infatuated by her, he began hanging out in her neighborhood, repeatedly offering to buy her dinner, drinks, or to join him in a harmless smoke. She rebuffed him – gently, carefully, always saying that she had something to get done for his father. More than once she had to signal Dregs to intercept them and provide an escape. She began to stay away from the house more – Vari had enough money and was getting old enough to take care of herself and most of the chores at home while Meav earned their keep.

She used the time to hone her skills every day and the exciting life on the edge became like a drug to her. What started as a tactic to avoid Dany soon became a need to spend more and more time finding ways to complete the jobs allotted to her in the most impressive way possible. Vari was left to fend for herself as Meav was gone more and more, but Meav told herself Vari would have to learn to manage the home at some point, which assuaged her guilt at not being home with her sister.

One night, exhausted from nearly two solid days of casing a new ship that had arrived, she came home and found Vari in her bed – with Dany lying next to her. From the look of it, they had apparently been celebrating for days – there were clothes and half-eaten meals everywhere. The bitter-sweet smell of mazak hit her nostrils, and she noticed several pipes were strewn about, full of the dark tarry residue the drug leaves.

Meav was incensed – Vari had ruined everything! Now what was she going to do?

She carefully stepped over Dany and shook Vari, whispering for her to get up. But the girl remained prone, motionless. She shook harder, finally pulling her hard and flipping her over – to recoil in horror as the wide, sightless eyes of her sister stared back at her from dark hooded sockets, the open lips tinged blue.

Meav stumbled back against the wall, her heart pounding. She couldn’t think. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

She started as Dany mumbled something and rolled over onto one arm, lifting himself up on his elbow. His heavy-lidded eyes revealed he was still in the throes of the drug. He reached out to Vari, touching the dead girls arm. A minute later, a giggle erupted from him.

“I told…told you. You got to…to work up to…to it. Can’t be doing what I do. Sil…silly…girl.”

He flopped down, finally noticing Meav. “Oh…hey. You’re here. That’s great – I really was interested in you more anyway.” His eyes fluttered closed again, and he resumed gently snoring.

That day Meav picked up her Da's hammer for the last time in doing so ended her time in the guild, and guildmaster's son's life.

She looked once more in the mirror. Meav was dead, and Darithe reborn from her ashes. A dark phoenix for sure. She gathered her meager belongs and wrapped herself in her father oversized cloak and started outside. She glanced once more back at the smithy and then was gone. She walked on leaving the past behind.

A new town then, one where she is unknown. A place to disappear. The further from The Brotherhood, the better. Getting on a ship was too dangerous – The Brotherhood controlled the river and sea trade, she would be seen and her suspicious departure noted, if not prevented altogether. No, she had to leave by land.

In the dark of night, she stole down the South Road, which followed the coast all the way to Avis Armois. Far from the Capitol, perhaps there she could shake pursuit long enough to come up with a more long-term plan. The Mire Queen now beckoned to her which seemed appropriate somehow having become mired herself. As she walked she whispered a soft prayer (to whom she did not know) for forgiveness. But in her heart she knew forgiveness was reserved for those who deserved it.

The best steel doesn't always shine the brightest. Her da had taught her that and she thought of him as she walked south towards Avis Armois, the greatcloak wrapped around her due to the cool of the morn. She could still faintly smell him on it and those smells were comforting, almost as if he still embraced her in the folds of that big cloak. She breathed them in and smiled thinking of him, the pungent smell of the corrosive oils he used to clean his tools were there, and the pleasant smokey aroma of the coals of his forge still clung to the threads, and the musky smell of sweat after a good hard day of honest... She stopped abruptly and bit her lower lip. She sighed, the past is written. She could not change it no matter how much she wished to. But the future is a blank page. And that she could write.

She spotted a small family going in the opposite direction approaching, a young man, his pretty wife and two small girls tugging at their parent's cloaks. She smiled and nodded to them as their paths crossed. Her mind calling back memories of her own youth and her sister Vari. She turned and caught back up to the family offering them most of her fruit. It wouldn't last long and she knew she couldn't eat it all before it went bad. She kept a stem of grapes for herself and waved to them as they continued their journey farther away from her. She returned to the path she had chosen and walked on alone.

Landsoftheblacksea:Main Page/players/danithe thorne

2021-01-21T00:40:20Z

Darithe: /* Equipment */

[[ Landsoftheblacksea:Main_Page#Player_Characters | '''Return to the Main Page''']]

A woman running from her past and perhaps seeking redemption.

[[File:ZZDarithe2C.jpg | thumb]]

== Basics ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Character Name !! Player Name !! Race !! Class !! Alignment !! AC !! Experience !! Hit Points
|-
| Darithe Thorne (Meav Delte) || Desconocida || Human || Thief 3 || Chaotic Good || 7 (With Dex Adj) || 1250|| 11
|-
|}

== Physical ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Age !! Height !! Weight !! Eye Colour !! Hair Colour
|-
| 19 || 5'6" || 110 lbs || Light Green || Black
|}

== Stats ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:left"
|-
| Strength || '''11''' || ''Wt. Allowance: 40#; Max Press: 115#; Open Doors: 6; Bend Bars: 2%''
|-
| Dexterity || '''17''' || ''+2 React. Adj; +2 Missile Att. Adj.; -3 Def. Adj.''
|-
| Constitution || '''12''' || ''Sys. Shock: 80%; Res. Surv: 85%''
|-
| Intelligence || '''14''' || ''#Lang: 4''
|-
| Wisdom || '''10''' ||
|-
| Charisma || '''16''' || ''Mx. Hench: 8; Loy. Base: +4; Reac. Adj.: +5''
|-
|}

+10% XP Bonus

== Saving Throws ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Paralyzation/Poison/Death Magic !! Rod, Staff or Wand !! Petrification or Plymorph !! Breath Weapon !! Spell
|-
|| 13 || 14 || 13 || 15 || 12
|}
== Weapon Proficiencies ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Dagger'''
|-
|'''Hand Crossbow'''
|-
|}
== Nonweapon Proficiencies ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Blacksmithing (11)'''
|-
|'''Cooking (14)'''
|-
|'''Healing (8)'''
|-
|'''Herbalism (12)'''
|-
|'''Swimming (11)'''
|-
|'''Tumbling (17)'''
|-
|}

== Thieves Abilities ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
| '''Pick Pockets''' || 15% + 5% (DEX) + 5% (no armor) =25% ||
|-
| '''Open Locks''' || 30% + 10% (DEX) = 50% ||
|-
| '''Find/Remove Traps''' || 40% ||
|-
| '''Move Silently''' || 30% + 5% (DEX) + 10% (no armor) = 45% || Movement reduced to 1/3
|-
| '''Hide in Shadows''' || 35% + 5% (DEX) + 5% (no armor) = 45% ||
|-
| '''Detect Noise''' || 18% ||
|-
| '''Climb Walls''' || 60% + 10% (no armor) = 70% ||
|-
| '''Read Languages''' || 2% ||
|-
|}

== Encumbrance ==
{| class="wikitable"
|'''Unencumbered'''
|'''''0-40'''''
|-
|'''Light'''
|'''''41-58'''''
|-
|'''Moderate'''
|'''''59-76'''''
|-
|'''Heavy'''
|'''''77-96'''''
|-
|'''Severe'''
|'''''97-110'''''
|-
|}
== Equipment ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Clothing'''
|'''''5 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Leather Armor'''
|'''15 lbs'''
|-
|'''Backpack'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Small pouch'''
|'''''0.5 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Hand Crossbow'''
|'''''3 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Dagger (x2)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|-style="color: blue"
|'''Dwarven made Dagger (x2)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Quiver'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Quarrels (20)'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Dry Rations (3 days)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Waterskin'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Thieves Picks'''
|'''''1 lb'''''
|-
|'''Fine Quality Deck of Playing Cards'''
|'''''1/2 Ounce'''''
|-
|'''Total'''
|'''''34.5 lbs'''''
|-
|}

== Equipment Stored in Rooms ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Numerous Changes of Clothing'''
|-
|'''Set of Obsidian Dice With Bone Pips'''
|-
|'''Hooded Fine Fur Cloak'''
|-
|'''Fine Women's Clothing from Veniri'''
|-
|}

== Languages ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Common'''
|-
|'''Vox Mercanti'''
|-
|'''Thieves' Cant'''
|-
|}

== Background ==
[[File:ZZDarithe2L.jpg]]

She stared at her reflection in the mirror for a long time. The red hair would take some getting used to. The shorn locks of her previously long tresses less so, as that frequently just got in the way of her skills. No sign of her Da's dark hair now, the only part she truly inherited from him. Just as the freckles across her pale features came from her mother. Her hands were near as red as the hair stained from the dye. Somehow that seemed apt. She scrubbed the dye from her hands in the washbasin. At least that stain could be washed away...

Darithe Thorne was her name now. Once she had been Meav Delte, the daughter of a blacksmith in the town of Belies-ar-Weil, located mid-way along the coast of Athervon between Avis Inia, the seat of the Kingdom, to the North, and Avis Armois, the oldest and most far-flung of the Kingdom’s major cities, to the South. Her father was as dumb as the anvil he pounded everyday, but he was kind and had a ready smile, and was gentle with his young daughters Meav and her sister Vari. He did his best to support his two daughters on what little income he could make from shoeing horses and hammering out crude nails to build the rickety buildings in this poor section of town.

Their mother passed from a fever when Vari was five. Meav was three years older and did the best she could for her Da and young sister. She took care of them and when money was short she did what she had to for a few more coins to add to their larder. She helped in the smithy as much as she could and took care of delivering special orders for her Da. She found with a pretty smile she would sometimes even get tips, not much, but everything helped. She was poor but she was bright. She quickly picked up some smithing skills from her father and taught herself to read and write, which was rare for the people from her part of town.

Belis-ar-Weil was neither particularly large nor particularly small; but it held a strategic location at the mouth of the Aumine river, which carried the riches of the Kingdom’s interior to the sea, where it was then sent to either Avis Inia or Avis Armois for final destinations. Due to this vast amount of traffic in lucrative goods, the town had more than its fair share of criminal element, intent on skimming some of the proceeds for themselves. While there were a number of gangs that operated around the town, all paid their respects to the notorious Five Points Brotherhood. The Brotherhood was a huge network of Thieves that had bases over nearly the entire Kingdom – at least, that was what was said. Based out of the Capitol, The Brotherhood controlled virtually all the illegal traffic flowing on the land route between Avis Inia and Tras Veniri, and had a heavy hand in distribution to points beyond inside of Athervon. No one of sane mind crossed The Brotherhood – their operatives and informants were everywhere, and they did not hesitate to deal with problems that threatened their profitable position.

Meav had never planned to join them. To the contrary, she had always steered clear of the young gangs of new recruits, and ignored their catcalls, offers, and sometimes threats as she made her deliveries in town – that she could deal with. What really made her pick up her pace was the way one of the older members – a street captain known as Dregs – looked at her. He didn’t seem to be looking at the pretty young woman with leering eyes and lustful sneers like the others. No, Dregs always seemed to be assessing whether she might be useful to him, whether she could be an asset to his operation. His cold gaze watched her every time she passed, but he never said a thing – just gave a slight touch to his cap in greeting after their eyes met, and then turned back to his business.

She choked back a laugh thinking about it now.

She managed to keep things on an even keel until her 17th year. That was the year her Da passed – walking home at night after the neighborhood innkeeper had rewarded him with a few pints for some emergency repairs to some of his stable equipment, he must’ve never seen the horseman, riding at a full gallop along the dark road. She ran out at the sounds and screams to see him lying in the mud, blood beginning to form a small pool around him. The rider never stopped, disappearing into the darkness.

After Da was in the ground, she assessed the situation, and realized something had to give. She didn't see herself or Vari swinging a hammer to make a living. She retched at the thought of some of the things women did for coin near the docks – she would die before that became her fate. Then the faces of the gang captains came to her – that cold gaze, assessing her. Perhaps she could be of use to them.

She had no idea how to initiate a conversation about this, but her mind was made up. She walked directly up to Dregs through the crowd of his young proteges, the blood that was pounding in her ears drowning out their infantile suggestions and insults.

“I need some work.” She blurted it out without even knowing it. She held her breath waiting for him to speak.

For a moment, he didn’t – just looked at her again with the same cold eyes.

Finally, he spoke. “B’out time. Let’s get ya to Fergasse, see what he has fer ya.” His voice was rough, thin, fitting his grizzled appearance perfectly. She realized it was the first time she had ever heard it.

Fergasse was the local Master of The Brotherhood, overseeing their operations in the town. If he had ever been a working thief, there was no way to tell now – he was a very fat man, who spent more time overseeing account books than picking pockets. But he was the ordained boss for The Brotherhood in town, and he did not need to worry about his girth – there were plenty of fit gang members who would take care of any of Fergasse’s problems.

Dregs brought her to a warehouse by the docks, one she had always been warned to stay away from by Ma & Da. She had to pass by room after room of intimidating looking men, and one even patted her down and felt her up making sure she didn’t have a weapon. Finally she was in Fergasse’s “office”, a large room filled with boxes, bags, sacks, barrels, crates, chests, and every manner of thing used to transport goods – as well as piles and piles of leather-bound books: ship’s journals, logs, account books, inventory scrolls. Fergasse supervised a small army of men moving things in and out while another army was copying and modifying books, writing so fast they were sweating. Fergasse’s eye flicked to her after Dreg was able to whisper something in his ear, and he spat something back she didn’t hear, before he turned back to conducting the mayhem in the room.

Dreg took her back to her place and told her how it would work. She would start just doing "special deliveries" and watching for the town guard who's eyes were easily distracted by a lithe darkhaired lass. It was easy work for the most part, and she was good at it – folks knew her Da was gone, and men circled her like buzzards if she gave them the chance, wanting to be there when her finances or her will finally broke.

But those tasks weren't enough to support her and Vari; soon, she was pestering Dreg for bigger opportunity. Happy with her performance, he graduated her to more advanced work for the guild.

She took to the tasks like a bird to the air. It excited her. It gave her freedom from the drudgery of the smithy. And the coins to be had (earned?) were greater than she had ever seen. Though just eighteen by then, she quickly became a rising star in the guild. Soon enough, Dregs re-introduced her to Fergasse at the Bosses’ request. Fergasse wanted to have a look at this new recruit who was making him so much money.

As Fergasse spoke about the impression she had made, and that if she played her cards right she could have a bright future in The Brotherhood, she noticed a young man lounging back on a pile of grain sacks, staring at her with dark, hooded eyes. She had seen that stare before, but she was not that person anymore. She ignored the look, her lip curling into a mild sneer to express her disinterest.

After the meeting was over, she asked Dregs about the man. “Eh? On the sacks? Ach, thas Dany – Fergasse’s boyo. What ye’want wit him? Oh ya? Fancy’s ya does he? Well, ya be careful lass – that boyo’s got more problems than the Emperor of Jhon, he does – and he’ll make’em your problems if ya let ‘im. Best steer clear of ‘im, stay focused on yer work. He’s trouble if you like ‘im – but he’s also trouble if ya don’t, if ya take my meaning. Don’t make Fergasse choose between yas.”

She learned from others that Dany was an addict – he smoked the seeds from the Jhonian mazak plant, which generated the dark circles around his eyes and the vacant stare.

She heeded Dregs advice and made every attempt to avoid Dany. But to her dismay, Dany had other ideas. Apparently infatuated by her, he began hanging out in her neighborhood, repeatedly offering to buy her dinner, drinks, or to join him in a harmless smoke. She rebuffed him – gently, carefully, always saying that she had something to get done for his father. More than once she had to signal Dregs to intercept them and provide an escape. She began to stay away from the house more – Vari had enough money and was getting old enough to take care of herself and most of the chores at home while Meav earned their keep.

She used the time to hone her skills every day and the exciting life on the edge became like a drug to her. What started as a tactic to avoid Dany soon became a need to spend more and more time finding ways to complete the jobs allotted to her in the most impressive way possible. Vari was left to fend for herself as Meav was gone more and more, but Meav told herself Vari would have to learn to manage the home at some point, which assuaged her guilt at not being home with her sister.

One night, exhausted from nearly two solid days of casing a new ship that had arrived, she came home and found Vari in her bed – with Dany lying next to her. From the look of it, they had apparently been celebrating for days – there were clothes and half-eaten meals everywhere. The bitter-sweet smell of mazak hit her nostrils, and she noticed several pipes were strewn about, full of the dark tarry residue the drug leaves.

Meav was incensed – Vari had ruined everything! Now what was she going to do?

She carefully stepped over Dany and shook Vari, whispering for her to get up. But the girl remained prone, motionless. She shook harder, finally pulling her hard and flipping her over – to recoil in horror as the wide, sightless eyes of her sister stared back at her from dark hooded sockets, the open lips tinged blue.

Meav stumbled back against the wall, her heart pounding. She couldn’t think. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

She started as Dany mumbled something and rolled over onto one arm, lifting himself up on his elbow. His heavy-lidded eyes revealed he was still in the throes of the drug. He reached out to Vari, touching the dead girls arm. A minute later, a giggle erupted from him.

“I told…told you. You got to…to work up to…to it. Can’t be doing what I do. Sil…silly…girl.”

He flopped down, finally noticing Meav. “Oh…hey. You’re here. That’s great – I really was interested in you more anyway.” His eyes fluttered closed again, and he resumed gently snoring.

That day Meav picked up her Da's hammer for the last time in doing so ended her time in the guild, and guildmaster's son's life.

She looked once more in the mirror. Meav was dead, and Darithe reborn from her ashes. A dark phoenix for sure. She gathered her meager belongs and wrapped herself in her father oversized cloak and started outside. She glanced once more back at the smithy and then was gone. She walked on leaving the past behind.

A new town then, one where she is unknown. A place to disappear. The further from The Brotherhood, the better. Getting on a ship was too dangerous – The Brotherhood controlled the river and sea trade, she would be seen and her suspicious departure noted, if not prevented altogether. No, she had to leave by land.

In the dark of night, she stole down the South Road, which followed the coast all the way to Avis Armois. Far from the Capitol, perhaps there she could shake pursuit long enough to come up with a more long-term plan. The Mire Queen now beckoned to her which seemed appropriate somehow having become mired herself. As she walked she whispered a soft prayer (to whom she did not know) for forgiveness. But in her heart she knew forgiveness was reserved for those who deserved it.

The best steel doesn't always shine the brightest. Her da had taught her that and she thought of him as she walked south towards Avis Armois, the greatcloak wrapped around her due to the cool of the morn. She could still faintly smell him on it and those smells were comforting, almost as if he still embraced her in the folds of that big cloak. She breathed them in and smiled thinking of him, the pungent smell of the corrosive oils he used to clean his tools were there, and the pleasant smokey aroma of the coals of his forge still clung to the threads, and the musky smell of sweat after a good hard day of honest... She stopped abruptly and bit her lower lip. She sighed, the past is written. She could not change it no matter how much she wished to. But the future is a blank page. And that she could write.

She spotted a small family going in the opposite direction approaching, a young man, his pretty wife and two small girls tugging at their parent's cloaks. She smiled and nodded to them as their paths crossed. Her mind calling back memories of her own youth and her sister Vari. She turned and caught back up to the family offering them most of her fruit. It wouldn't last long and she knew she couldn't eat it all before it went bad. She kept a stem of grapes for herself and waved to them as they continued their journey farther away from her. She returned to the path she had chosen and walked on alone.

Landsoftheblacksea:Main Page/players/danithe thorne

2021-01-21T00:34:00Z

Darithe: /* Equipment Stored in Rooms */

[[ Landsoftheblacksea:Main_Page#Player_Characters | '''Return to the Main Page''']]

A woman running from her past and perhaps seeking redemption.

[[File:ZZDarithe2C.jpg | thumb]]

== Basics ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Character Name !! Player Name !! Race !! Class !! Alignment !! AC !! Experience !! Hit Points
|-
| Darithe Thorne (Meav Delte) || Desconocida || Human || Thief 3 || Chaotic Good || 7 (With Dex Adj) || 1250|| 11
|-
|}

== Physical ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Age !! Height !! Weight !! Eye Colour !! Hair Colour
|-
| 19 || 5'6" || 110 lbs || Light Green || Black
|}

== Stats ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:left"
|-
| Strength || '''11''' || ''Wt. Allowance: 40#; Max Press: 115#; Open Doors: 6; Bend Bars: 2%''
|-
| Dexterity || '''17''' || ''+2 React. Adj; +2 Missile Att. Adj.; -3 Def. Adj.''
|-
| Constitution || '''12''' || ''Sys. Shock: 80%; Res. Surv: 85%''
|-
| Intelligence || '''14''' || ''#Lang: 4''
|-
| Wisdom || '''10''' ||
|-
| Charisma || '''16''' || ''Mx. Hench: 8; Loy. Base: +4; Reac. Adj.: +5''
|-
|}

+10% XP Bonus

== Saving Throws ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Paralyzation/Poison/Death Magic !! Rod, Staff or Wand !! Petrification or Plymorph !! Breath Weapon !! Spell
|-
|| 13 || 14 || 13 || 15 || 12
|}
== Weapon Proficiencies ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Dagger'''
|-
|'''Hand Crossbow'''
|-
|}
== Nonweapon Proficiencies ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Blacksmithing (11)'''
|-
|'''Cooking (14)'''
|-
|'''Healing (8)'''
|-
|'''Herbalism (12)'''
|-
|'''Swimming (11)'''
|-
|'''Tumbling (17)'''
|-
|}

== Thieves Abilities ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
| '''Pick Pockets''' || 15% + 5% (DEX) + 5% (no armor) =25% ||
|-
| '''Open Locks''' || 30% + 10% (DEX) = 50% ||
|-
| '''Find/Remove Traps''' || 40% ||
|-
| '''Move Silently''' || 30% + 5% (DEX) + 10% (no armor) = 45% || Movement reduced to 1/3
|-
| '''Hide in Shadows''' || 35% + 5% (DEX) + 5% (no armor) = 45% ||
|-
| '''Detect Noise''' || 18% ||
|-
| '''Climb Walls''' || 60% + 10% (no armor) = 70% ||
|-
| '''Read Languages''' || 2% ||
|-
|}

== Encumbrance ==
{| class="wikitable"
|'''Unencumbered'''
|'''''0-40'''''
|-
|'''Light'''
|'''''41-58'''''
|-
|'''Moderate'''
|'''''59-76'''''
|-
|'''Heavy'''
|'''''77-96'''''
|-
|'''Severe'''
|'''''97-110'''''
|-
|}
== Equipment ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Clothing'''
|'''''5 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Backpack'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Small pouch'''
|'''''0.5 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Hand Crossbow'''
|'''''3 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Dagger (x2)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|-style="color: blue"
|'''Dwarven made Dagger (x2)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Quiver'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Quarrels (20)'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Dry Rations (3 days)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Waterskin'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Thieves Picks'''
|'''''1 lb'''''
|-
|'''Fine Quality Deck of Playing Cards'''
|'''''1/2 Ounce'''''
|-
|'''Total'''
|'''''19.5 lbs'''''
|-
|}

== Equipment Stored in Rooms ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Numerous Changes of Clothing'''
|-
|'''Set of Obsidian Dice With Bone Pips'''
|-
|'''Hooded Fine Fur Cloak'''
|-
|'''Fine Women's Clothing from Veniri'''
|-
|}

== Languages ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Common'''
|-
|'''Vox Mercanti'''
|-
|'''Thieves' Cant'''
|-
|}

== Background ==
[[File:ZZDarithe2L.jpg]]

She stared at her reflection in the mirror for a long time. The red hair would take some getting used to. The shorn locks of her previously long tresses less so, as that frequently just got in the way of her skills. No sign of her Da's dark hair now, the only part she truly inherited from him. Just as the freckles across her pale features came from her mother. Her hands were near as red as the hair stained from the dye. Somehow that seemed apt. She scrubbed the dye from her hands in the washbasin. At least that stain could be washed away...

Darithe Thorne was her name now. Once she had been Meav Delte, the daughter of a blacksmith in the town of Belies-ar-Weil, located mid-way along the coast of Athervon between Avis Inia, the seat of the Kingdom, to the North, and Avis Armois, the oldest and most far-flung of the Kingdom’s major cities, to the South. Her father was as dumb as the anvil he pounded everyday, but he was kind and had a ready smile, and was gentle with his young daughters Meav and her sister Vari. He did his best to support his two daughters on what little income he could make from shoeing horses and hammering out crude nails to build the rickety buildings in this poor section of town.

Their mother passed from a fever when Vari was five. Meav was three years older and did the best she could for her Da and young sister. She took care of them and when money was short she did what she had to for a few more coins to add to their larder. She helped in the smithy as much as she could and took care of delivering special orders for her Da. She found with a pretty smile she would sometimes even get tips, not much, but everything helped. She was poor but she was bright. She quickly picked up some smithing skills from her father and taught herself to read and write, which was rare for the people from her part of town.

Belis-ar-Weil was neither particularly large nor particularly small; but it held a strategic location at the mouth of the Aumine river, which carried the riches of the Kingdom’s interior to the sea, where it was then sent to either Avis Inia or Avis Armois for final destinations. Due to this vast amount of traffic in lucrative goods, the town had more than its fair share of criminal element, intent on skimming some of the proceeds for themselves. While there were a number of gangs that operated around the town, all paid their respects to the notorious Five Points Brotherhood. The Brotherhood was a huge network of Thieves that had bases over nearly the entire Kingdom – at least, that was what was said. Based out of the Capitol, The Brotherhood controlled virtually all the illegal traffic flowing on the land route between Avis Inia and Tras Veniri, and had a heavy hand in distribution to points beyond inside of Athervon. No one of sane mind crossed The Brotherhood – their operatives and informants were everywhere, and they did not hesitate to deal with problems that threatened their profitable position.

Meav had never planned to join them. To the contrary, she had always steered clear of the young gangs of new recruits, and ignored their catcalls, offers, and sometimes threats as she made her deliveries in town – that she could deal with. What really made her pick up her pace was the way one of the older members – a street captain known as Dregs – looked at her. He didn’t seem to be looking at the pretty young woman with leering eyes and lustful sneers like the others. No, Dregs always seemed to be assessing whether she might be useful to him, whether she could be an asset to his operation. His cold gaze watched her every time she passed, but he never said a thing – just gave a slight touch to his cap in greeting after their eyes met, and then turned back to his business.

She choked back a laugh thinking about it now.

She managed to keep things on an even keel until her 17th year. That was the year her Da passed – walking home at night after the neighborhood innkeeper had rewarded him with a few pints for some emergency repairs to some of his stable equipment, he must’ve never seen the horseman, riding at a full gallop along the dark road. She ran out at the sounds and screams to see him lying in the mud, blood beginning to form a small pool around him. The rider never stopped, disappearing into the darkness.

After Da was in the ground, she assessed the situation, and realized something had to give. She didn't see herself or Vari swinging a hammer to make a living. She retched at the thought of some of the things women did for coin near the docks – she would die before that became her fate. Then the faces of the gang captains came to her – that cold gaze, assessing her. Perhaps she could be of use to them.

She had no idea how to initiate a conversation about this, but her mind was made up. She walked directly up to Dregs through the crowd of his young proteges, the blood that was pounding in her ears drowning out their infantile suggestions and insults.

“I need some work.” She blurted it out without even knowing it. She held her breath waiting for him to speak.

For a moment, he didn’t – just looked at her again with the same cold eyes.

Finally, he spoke. “B’out time. Let’s get ya to Fergasse, see what he has fer ya.” His voice was rough, thin, fitting his grizzled appearance perfectly. She realized it was the first time she had ever heard it.

Fergasse was the local Master of The Brotherhood, overseeing their operations in the town. If he had ever been a working thief, there was no way to tell now – he was a very fat man, who spent more time overseeing account books than picking pockets. But he was the ordained boss for The Brotherhood in town, and he did not need to worry about his girth – there were plenty of fit gang members who would take care of any of Fergasse’s problems.

Dregs brought her to a warehouse by the docks, one she had always been warned to stay away from by Ma & Da. She had to pass by room after room of intimidating looking men, and one even patted her down and felt her up making sure she didn’t have a weapon. Finally she was in Fergasse’s “office”, a large room filled with boxes, bags, sacks, barrels, crates, chests, and every manner of thing used to transport goods – as well as piles and piles of leather-bound books: ship’s journals, logs, account books, inventory scrolls. Fergasse supervised a small army of men moving things in and out while another army was copying and modifying books, writing so fast they were sweating. Fergasse’s eye flicked to her after Dreg was able to whisper something in his ear, and he spat something back she didn’t hear, before he turned back to conducting the mayhem in the room.

Dreg took her back to her place and told her how it would work. She would start just doing "special deliveries" and watching for the town guard who's eyes were easily distracted by a lithe darkhaired lass. It was easy work for the most part, and she was good at it – folks knew her Da was gone, and men circled her like buzzards if she gave them the chance, wanting to be there when her finances or her will finally broke.

But those tasks weren't enough to support her and Vari; soon, she was pestering Dreg for bigger opportunity. Happy with her performance, he graduated her to more advanced work for the guild.

She took to the tasks like a bird to the air. It excited her. It gave her freedom from the drudgery of the smithy. And the coins to be had (earned?) were greater than she had ever seen. Though just eighteen by then, she quickly became a rising star in the guild. Soon enough, Dregs re-introduced her to Fergasse at the Bosses’ request. Fergasse wanted to have a look at this new recruit who was making him so much money.

As Fergasse spoke about the impression she had made, and that if she played her cards right she could have a bright future in The Brotherhood, she noticed a young man lounging back on a pile of grain sacks, staring at her with dark, hooded eyes. She had seen that stare before, but she was not that person anymore. She ignored the look, her lip curling into a mild sneer to express her disinterest.

After the meeting was over, she asked Dregs about the man. “Eh? On the sacks? Ach, thas Dany – Fergasse’s boyo. What ye’want wit him? Oh ya? Fancy’s ya does he? Well, ya be careful lass – that boyo’s got more problems than the Emperor of Jhon, he does – and he’ll make’em your problems if ya let ‘im. Best steer clear of ‘im, stay focused on yer work. He’s trouble if you like ‘im – but he’s also trouble if ya don’t, if ya take my meaning. Don’t make Fergasse choose between yas.”

She learned from others that Dany was an addict – he smoked the seeds from the Jhonian mazak plant, which generated the dark circles around his eyes and the vacant stare.

She heeded Dregs advice and made every attempt to avoid Dany. But to her dismay, Dany had other ideas. Apparently infatuated by her, he began hanging out in her neighborhood, repeatedly offering to buy her dinner, drinks, or to join him in a harmless smoke. She rebuffed him – gently, carefully, always saying that she had something to get done for his father. More than once she had to signal Dregs to intercept them and provide an escape. She began to stay away from the house more – Vari had enough money and was getting old enough to take care of herself and most of the chores at home while Meav earned their keep.

She used the time to hone her skills every day and the exciting life on the edge became like a drug to her. What started as a tactic to avoid Dany soon became a need to spend more and more time finding ways to complete the jobs allotted to her in the most impressive way possible. Vari was left to fend for herself as Meav was gone more and more, but Meav told herself Vari would have to learn to manage the home at some point, which assuaged her guilt at not being home with her sister.

One night, exhausted from nearly two solid days of casing a new ship that had arrived, she came home and found Vari in her bed – with Dany lying next to her. From the look of it, they had apparently been celebrating for days – there were clothes and half-eaten meals everywhere. The bitter-sweet smell of mazak hit her nostrils, and she noticed several pipes were strewn about, full of the dark tarry residue the drug leaves.

Meav was incensed – Vari had ruined everything! Now what was she going to do?

She carefully stepped over Dany and shook Vari, whispering for her to get up. But the girl remained prone, motionless. She shook harder, finally pulling her hard and flipping her over – to recoil in horror as the wide, sightless eyes of her sister stared back at her from dark hooded sockets, the open lips tinged blue.

Meav stumbled back against the wall, her heart pounding. She couldn’t think. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

She started as Dany mumbled something and rolled over onto one arm, lifting himself up on his elbow. His heavy-lidded eyes revealed he was still in the throes of the drug. He reached out to Vari, touching the dead girls arm. A minute later, a giggle erupted from him.

“I told…told you. You got to…to work up to…to it. Can’t be doing what I do. Sil…silly…girl.”

He flopped down, finally noticing Meav. “Oh…hey. You’re here. That’s great – I really was interested in you more anyway.” His eyes fluttered closed again, and he resumed gently snoring.

That day Meav picked up her Da's hammer for the last time in doing so ended her time in the guild, and guildmaster's son's life.

She looked once more in the mirror. Meav was dead, and Darithe reborn from her ashes. A dark phoenix for sure. She gathered her meager belongs and wrapped herself in her father oversized cloak and started outside. She glanced once more back at the smithy and then was gone. She walked on leaving the past behind.

A new town then, one where she is unknown. A place to disappear. The further from The Brotherhood, the better. Getting on a ship was too dangerous – The Brotherhood controlled the river and sea trade, she would be seen and her suspicious departure noted, if not prevented altogether. No, she had to leave by land.

In the dark of night, she stole down the South Road, which followed the coast all the way to Avis Armois. Far from the Capitol, perhaps there she could shake pursuit long enough to come up with a more long-term plan. The Mire Queen now beckoned to her which seemed appropriate somehow having become mired herself. As she walked she whispered a soft prayer (to whom she did not know) for forgiveness. But in her heart she knew forgiveness was reserved for those who deserved it.

The best steel doesn't always shine the brightest. Her da had taught her that and she thought of him as she walked south towards Avis Armois, the greatcloak wrapped around her due to the cool of the morn. She could still faintly smell him on it and those smells were comforting, almost as if he still embraced her in the folds of that big cloak. She breathed them in and smiled thinking of him, the pungent smell of the corrosive oils he used to clean his tools were there, and the pleasant smokey aroma of the coals of his forge still clung to the threads, and the musky smell of sweat after a good hard day of honest... She stopped abruptly and bit her lower lip. She sighed, the past is written. She could not change it no matter how much she wished to. But the future is a blank page. And that she could write.

She spotted a small family going in the opposite direction approaching, a young man, his pretty wife and two small girls tugging at their parent's cloaks. She smiled and nodded to them as their paths crossed. Her mind calling back memories of her own youth and her sister Vari. She turned and caught back up to the family offering them most of her fruit. It wouldn't last long and she knew she couldn't eat it all before it went bad. She kept a stem of grapes for herself and waved to them as they continued their journey farther away from her. She returned to the path she had chosen and walked on alone.

Landsoftheblacksea:Main Page/players/danithe thorne

2021-01-21T00:31:41Z

Darithe: /* Equipment Stored in Rooms */

[[ Landsoftheblacksea:Main_Page#Player_Characters | '''Return to the Main Page''']]

A woman running from her past and perhaps seeking redemption.

[[File:ZZDarithe2C.jpg | thumb]]

== Basics ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Character Name !! Player Name !! Race !! Class !! Alignment !! AC !! Experience !! Hit Points
|-
| Darithe Thorne (Meav Delte) || Desconocida || Human || Thief 3 || Chaotic Good || 7 (With Dex Adj) || 1250|| 11
|-
|}

== Physical ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Age !! Height !! Weight !! Eye Colour !! Hair Colour
|-
| 19 || 5'6" || 110 lbs || Light Green || Black
|}

== Stats ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:left"
|-
| Strength || '''11''' || ''Wt. Allowance: 40#; Max Press: 115#; Open Doors: 6; Bend Bars: 2%''
|-
| Dexterity || '''17''' || ''+2 React. Adj; +2 Missile Att. Adj.; -3 Def. Adj.''
|-
| Constitution || '''12''' || ''Sys. Shock: 80%; Res. Surv: 85%''
|-
| Intelligence || '''14''' || ''#Lang: 4''
|-
| Wisdom || '''10''' ||
|-
| Charisma || '''16''' || ''Mx. Hench: 8; Loy. Base: +4; Reac. Adj.: +5''
|-
|}

+10% XP Bonus

== Saving Throws ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Paralyzation/Poison/Death Magic !! Rod, Staff or Wand !! Petrification or Plymorph !! Breath Weapon !! Spell
|-
|| 13 || 14 || 13 || 15 || 12
|}
== Weapon Proficiencies ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Dagger'''
|-
|'''Hand Crossbow'''
|-
|}
== Nonweapon Proficiencies ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Blacksmithing (11)'''
|-
|'''Cooking (14)'''
|-
|'''Healing (8)'''
|-
|'''Herbalism (12)'''
|-
|'''Swimming (11)'''
|-
|'''Tumbling (17)'''
|-
|}

== Thieves Abilities ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
| '''Pick Pockets''' || 15% + 5% (DEX) + 5% (no armor) =25% ||
|-
| '''Open Locks''' || 30% + 10% (DEX) = 50% ||
|-
| '''Find/Remove Traps''' || 40% ||
|-
| '''Move Silently''' || 30% + 5% (DEX) + 10% (no armor) = 45% || Movement reduced to 1/3
|-
| '''Hide in Shadows''' || 35% + 5% (DEX) + 5% (no armor) = 45% ||
|-
| '''Detect Noise''' || 18% ||
|-
| '''Climb Walls''' || 60% + 10% (no armor) = 70% ||
|-
| '''Read Languages''' || 2% ||
|-
|}

== Encumbrance ==
{| class="wikitable"
|'''Unencumbered'''
|'''''0-40'''''
|-
|'''Light'''
|'''''41-58'''''
|-
|'''Moderate'''
|'''''59-76'''''
|-
|'''Heavy'''
|'''''77-96'''''
|-
|'''Severe'''
|'''''97-110'''''
|-
|}
== Equipment ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Clothing'''
|'''''5 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Backpack'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Small pouch'''
|'''''0.5 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Hand Crossbow'''
|'''''3 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Dagger (x2)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|-style="color: blue"
|'''Dwarven made Dagger (x2)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Quiver'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Quarrels (20)'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Dry Rations (3 days)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Waterskin'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Thieves Picks'''
|'''''1 lb'''''
|-
|'''Fine Quality Deck of Playing Cards'''
|'''''1/2 Ounce'''''
|-
|'''Total'''
|'''''19.5 lbs'''''
|-
|}

== Equipment Stored in Rooms ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Numerous Changes of Clothing'''
|'''Set of Obsidian Dice With Bone Pips'''
|-
|'''Small pouch'''
|'''''0.5 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Hand Crossbow'''
|'''''3 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Dagger (x2)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|-style="color: blue"
|'''Dwarven made Dagger (x2)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Quiver'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Quarrels (20)'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Dry Rations (3 days)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Waterskin'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Thieves Picks'''
|'''''1 lb'''''
|-
|'''Fine Quality Deck of Playing Cards'''
|'''''1/2 Ounce'''''
|-
|'''Total'''
|'''''19.5 lbs'''''
|-
|}

== Languages ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Common'''
|-
|'''Vox Mercanti'''
|-
|'''Thieves' Cant'''
|-
|}

== Background ==
[[File:ZZDarithe2L.jpg]]

She stared at her reflection in the mirror for a long time. The red hair would take some getting used to. The shorn locks of her previously long tresses less so, as that frequently just got in the way of her skills. No sign of her Da's dark hair now, the only part she truly inherited from him. Just as the freckles across her pale features came from her mother. Her hands were near as red as the hair stained from the dye. Somehow that seemed apt. She scrubbed the dye from her hands in the washbasin. At least that stain could be washed away...

Darithe Thorne was her name now. Once she had been Meav Delte, the daughter of a blacksmith in the town of Belies-ar-Weil, located mid-way along the coast of Athervon between Avis Inia, the seat of the Kingdom, to the North, and Avis Armois, the oldest and most far-flung of the Kingdom’s major cities, to the South. Her father was as dumb as the anvil he pounded everyday, but he was kind and had a ready smile, and was gentle with his young daughters Meav and her sister Vari. He did his best to support his two daughters on what little income he could make from shoeing horses and hammering out crude nails to build the rickety buildings in this poor section of town.

Their mother passed from a fever when Vari was five. Meav was three years older and did the best she could for her Da and young sister. She took care of them and when money was short she did what she had to for a few more coins to add to their larder. She helped in the smithy as much as she could and took care of delivering special orders for her Da. She found with a pretty smile she would sometimes even get tips, not much, but everything helped. She was poor but she was bright. She quickly picked up some smithing skills from her father and taught herself to read and write, which was rare for the people from her part of town.

Belis-ar-Weil was neither particularly large nor particularly small; but it held a strategic location at the mouth of the Aumine river, which carried the riches of the Kingdom’s interior to the sea, where it was then sent to either Avis Inia or Avis Armois for final destinations. Due to this vast amount of traffic in lucrative goods, the town had more than its fair share of criminal element, intent on skimming some of the proceeds for themselves. While there were a number of gangs that operated around the town, all paid their respects to the notorious Five Points Brotherhood. The Brotherhood was a huge network of Thieves that had bases over nearly the entire Kingdom – at least, that was what was said. Based out of the Capitol, The Brotherhood controlled virtually all the illegal traffic flowing on the land route between Avis Inia and Tras Veniri, and had a heavy hand in distribution to points beyond inside of Athervon. No one of sane mind crossed The Brotherhood – their operatives and informants were everywhere, and they did not hesitate to deal with problems that threatened their profitable position.

Meav had never planned to join them. To the contrary, she had always steered clear of the young gangs of new recruits, and ignored their catcalls, offers, and sometimes threats as she made her deliveries in town – that she could deal with. What really made her pick up her pace was the way one of the older members – a street captain known as Dregs – looked at her. He didn’t seem to be looking at the pretty young woman with leering eyes and lustful sneers like the others. No, Dregs always seemed to be assessing whether she might be useful to him, whether she could be an asset to his operation. His cold gaze watched her every time she passed, but he never said a thing – just gave a slight touch to his cap in greeting after their eyes met, and then turned back to his business.

She choked back a laugh thinking about it now.

She managed to keep things on an even keel until her 17th year. That was the year her Da passed – walking home at night after the neighborhood innkeeper had rewarded him with a few pints for some emergency repairs to some of his stable equipment, he must’ve never seen the horseman, riding at a full gallop along the dark road. She ran out at the sounds and screams to see him lying in the mud, blood beginning to form a small pool around him. The rider never stopped, disappearing into the darkness.

After Da was in the ground, she assessed the situation, and realized something had to give. She didn't see herself or Vari swinging a hammer to make a living. She retched at the thought of some of the things women did for coin near the docks – she would die before that became her fate. Then the faces of the gang captains came to her – that cold gaze, assessing her. Perhaps she could be of use to them.

She had no idea how to initiate a conversation about this, but her mind was made up. She walked directly up to Dregs through the crowd of his young proteges, the blood that was pounding in her ears drowning out their infantile suggestions and insults.

“I need some work.” She blurted it out without even knowing it. She held her breath waiting for him to speak.

For a moment, he didn’t – just looked at her again with the same cold eyes.

Finally, he spoke. “B’out time. Let’s get ya to Fergasse, see what he has fer ya.” His voice was rough, thin, fitting his grizzled appearance perfectly. She realized it was the first time she had ever heard it.

Fergasse was the local Master of The Brotherhood, overseeing their operations in the town. If he had ever been a working thief, there was no way to tell now – he was a very fat man, who spent more time overseeing account books than picking pockets. But he was the ordained boss for The Brotherhood in town, and he did not need to worry about his girth – there were plenty of fit gang members who would take care of any of Fergasse’s problems.

Dregs brought her to a warehouse by the docks, one she had always been warned to stay away from by Ma & Da. She had to pass by room after room of intimidating looking men, and one even patted her down and felt her up making sure she didn’t have a weapon. Finally she was in Fergasse’s “office”, a large room filled with boxes, bags, sacks, barrels, crates, chests, and every manner of thing used to transport goods – as well as piles and piles of leather-bound books: ship’s journals, logs, account books, inventory scrolls. Fergasse supervised a small army of men moving things in and out while another army was copying and modifying books, writing so fast they were sweating. Fergasse’s eye flicked to her after Dreg was able to whisper something in his ear, and he spat something back she didn’t hear, before he turned back to conducting the mayhem in the room.

Dreg took her back to her place and told her how it would work. She would start just doing "special deliveries" and watching for the town guard who's eyes were easily distracted by a lithe darkhaired lass. It was easy work for the most part, and she was good at it – folks knew her Da was gone, and men circled her like buzzards if she gave them the chance, wanting to be there when her finances or her will finally broke.

But those tasks weren't enough to support her and Vari; soon, she was pestering Dreg for bigger opportunity. Happy with her performance, he graduated her to more advanced work for the guild.

She took to the tasks like a bird to the air. It excited her. It gave her freedom from the drudgery of the smithy. And the coins to be had (earned?) were greater than she had ever seen. Though just eighteen by then, she quickly became a rising star in the guild. Soon enough, Dregs re-introduced her to Fergasse at the Bosses’ request. Fergasse wanted to have a look at this new recruit who was making him so much money.

As Fergasse spoke about the impression she had made, and that if she played her cards right she could have a bright future in The Brotherhood, she noticed a young man lounging back on a pile of grain sacks, staring at her with dark, hooded eyes. She had seen that stare before, but she was not that person anymore. She ignored the look, her lip curling into a mild sneer to express her disinterest.

After the meeting was over, she asked Dregs about the man. “Eh? On the sacks? Ach, thas Dany – Fergasse’s boyo. What ye’want wit him? Oh ya? Fancy’s ya does he? Well, ya be careful lass – that boyo’s got more problems than the Emperor of Jhon, he does – and he’ll make’em your problems if ya let ‘im. Best steer clear of ‘im, stay focused on yer work. He’s trouble if you like ‘im – but he’s also trouble if ya don’t, if ya take my meaning. Don’t make Fergasse choose between yas.”

She learned from others that Dany was an addict – he smoked the seeds from the Jhonian mazak plant, which generated the dark circles around his eyes and the vacant stare.

She heeded Dregs advice and made every attempt to avoid Dany. But to her dismay, Dany had other ideas. Apparently infatuated by her, he began hanging out in her neighborhood, repeatedly offering to buy her dinner, drinks, or to join him in a harmless smoke. She rebuffed him – gently, carefully, always saying that she had something to get done for his father. More than once she had to signal Dregs to intercept them and provide an escape. She began to stay away from the house more – Vari had enough money and was getting old enough to take care of herself and most of the chores at home while Meav earned their keep.

She used the time to hone her skills every day and the exciting life on the edge became like a drug to her. What started as a tactic to avoid Dany soon became a need to spend more and more time finding ways to complete the jobs allotted to her in the most impressive way possible. Vari was left to fend for herself as Meav was gone more and more, but Meav told herself Vari would have to learn to manage the home at some point, which assuaged her guilt at not being home with her sister.

One night, exhausted from nearly two solid days of casing a new ship that had arrived, she came home and found Vari in her bed – with Dany lying next to her. From the look of it, they had apparently been celebrating for days – there were clothes and half-eaten meals everywhere. The bitter-sweet smell of mazak hit her nostrils, and she noticed several pipes were strewn about, full of the dark tarry residue the drug leaves.

Meav was incensed – Vari had ruined everything! Now what was she going to do?

She carefully stepped over Dany and shook Vari, whispering for her to get up. But the girl remained prone, motionless. She shook harder, finally pulling her hard and flipping her over – to recoil in horror as the wide, sightless eyes of her sister stared back at her from dark hooded sockets, the open lips tinged blue.

Meav stumbled back against the wall, her heart pounding. She couldn’t think. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

She started as Dany mumbled something and rolled over onto one arm, lifting himself up on his elbow. His heavy-lidded eyes revealed he was still in the throes of the drug. He reached out to Vari, touching the dead girls arm. A minute later, a giggle erupted from him.

“I told…told you. You got to…to work up to…to it. Can’t be doing what I do. Sil…silly…girl.”

He flopped down, finally noticing Meav. “Oh…hey. You’re here. That’s great – I really was interested in you more anyway.” His eyes fluttered closed again, and he resumed gently snoring.

That day Meav picked up her Da's hammer for the last time in doing so ended her time in the guild, and guildmaster's son's life.

She looked once more in the mirror. Meav was dead, and Darithe reborn from her ashes. A dark phoenix for sure. She gathered her meager belongs and wrapped herself in her father oversized cloak and started outside. She glanced once more back at the smithy and then was gone. She walked on leaving the past behind.

A new town then, one where she is unknown. A place to disappear. The further from The Brotherhood, the better. Getting on a ship was too dangerous – The Brotherhood controlled the river and sea trade, she would be seen and her suspicious departure noted, if not prevented altogether. No, she had to leave by land.

In the dark of night, she stole down the South Road, which followed the coast all the way to Avis Armois. Far from the Capitol, perhaps there she could shake pursuit long enough to come up with a more long-term plan. The Mire Queen now beckoned to her which seemed appropriate somehow having become mired herself. As she walked she whispered a soft prayer (to whom she did not know) for forgiveness. But in her heart she knew forgiveness was reserved for those who deserved it.

The best steel doesn't always shine the brightest. Her da had taught her that and she thought of him as she walked south towards Avis Armois, the greatcloak wrapped around her due to the cool of the morn. She could still faintly smell him on it and those smells were comforting, almost as if he still embraced her in the folds of that big cloak. She breathed them in and smiled thinking of him, the pungent smell of the corrosive oils he used to clean his tools were there, and the pleasant smokey aroma of the coals of his forge still clung to the threads, and the musky smell of sweat after a good hard day of honest... She stopped abruptly and bit her lower lip. She sighed, the past is written. She could not change it no matter how much she wished to. But the future is a blank page. And that she could write.

She spotted a small family going in the opposite direction approaching, a young man, his pretty wife and two small girls tugging at their parent's cloaks. She smiled and nodded to them as their paths crossed. Her mind calling back memories of her own youth and her sister Vari. She turned and caught back up to the family offering them most of her fruit. It wouldn't last long and she knew she couldn't eat it all before it went bad. She kept a stem of grapes for herself and waved to them as they continued their journey farther away from her. She returned to the path she had chosen and walked on alone.

Landsoftheblacksea:Main Page/players/danithe thorne

2021-01-21T00:31:17Z

Darithe: /* Equipment Stored in Rooms */

[[ Landsoftheblacksea:Main_Page#Player_Characters | '''Return to the Main Page''']]

A woman running from her past and perhaps seeking redemption.

[[File:ZZDarithe2C.jpg | thumb]]

== Basics ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Character Name !! Player Name !! Race !! Class !! Alignment !! AC !! Experience !! Hit Points
|-
| Darithe Thorne (Meav Delte) || Desconocida || Human || Thief 3 || Chaotic Good || 7 (With Dex Adj) || 1250|| 11
|-
|}

== Physical ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Age !! Height !! Weight !! Eye Colour !! Hair Colour
|-
| 19 || 5'6" || 110 lbs || Light Green || Black
|}

== Stats ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:left"
|-
| Strength || '''11''' || ''Wt. Allowance: 40#; Max Press: 115#; Open Doors: 6; Bend Bars: 2%''
|-
| Dexterity || '''17''' || ''+2 React. Adj; +2 Missile Att. Adj.; -3 Def. Adj.''
|-
| Constitution || '''12''' || ''Sys. Shock: 80%; Res. Surv: 85%''
|-
| Intelligence || '''14''' || ''#Lang: 4''
|-
| Wisdom || '''10''' ||
|-
| Charisma || '''16''' || ''Mx. Hench: 8; Loy. Base: +4; Reac. Adj.: +5''
|-
|}

+10% XP Bonus

== Saving Throws ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Paralyzation/Poison/Death Magic !! Rod, Staff or Wand !! Petrification or Plymorph !! Breath Weapon !! Spell
|-
|| 13 || 14 || 13 || 15 || 12
|}
== Weapon Proficiencies ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Dagger'''
|-
|'''Hand Crossbow'''
|-
|}
== Nonweapon Proficiencies ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Blacksmithing (11)'''
|-
|'''Cooking (14)'''
|-
|'''Healing (8)'''
|-
|'''Herbalism (12)'''
|-
|'''Swimming (11)'''
|-
|'''Tumbling (17)'''
|-
|}

== Thieves Abilities ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
| '''Pick Pockets''' || 15% + 5% (DEX) + 5% (no armor) =25% ||
|-
| '''Open Locks''' || 30% + 10% (DEX) = 50% ||
|-
| '''Find/Remove Traps''' || 40% ||
|-
| '''Move Silently''' || 30% + 5% (DEX) + 10% (no armor) = 45% || Movement reduced to 1/3
|-
| '''Hide in Shadows''' || 35% + 5% (DEX) + 5% (no armor) = 45% ||
|-
| '''Detect Noise''' || 18% ||
|-
| '''Climb Walls''' || 60% + 10% (no armor) = 70% ||
|-
| '''Read Languages''' || 2% ||
|-
|}

== Encumbrance ==
{| class="wikitable"
|'''Unencumbered'''
|'''''0-40'''''
|-
|'''Light'''
|'''''41-58'''''
|-
|'''Moderate'''
|'''''59-76'''''
|-
|'''Heavy'''
|'''''77-96'''''
|-
|'''Severe'''
|'''''97-110'''''
|-
|}
== Equipment ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Clothing'''
|'''''5 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Backpack'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Small pouch'''
|'''''0.5 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Hand Crossbow'''
|'''''3 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Dagger (x2)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|-style="color: blue"
|'''Dwarven made Dagger (x2)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Quiver'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Quarrels (20)'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Dry Rations (3 days)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Waterskin'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Thieves Picks'''
|'''''1 lb'''''
|-
|'''Fine Quality Deck of Playing Cards'''
|'''''1/2 Ounce'''''
|-
|'''Total'''
|'''''19.5 lbs'''''
|-
|}

== Equipment Stored in Rooms ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Numerous Changes of Clothing'''
|-
|'''Set of Obsidian Dice With Bone Pips'''
|-
|'''Small pouch'''
|'''''0.5 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Hand Crossbow'''
|'''''3 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Dagger (x2)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|-style="color: blue"
|'''Dwarven made Dagger (x2)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Quiver'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Quarrels (20)'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Dry Rations (3 days)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Waterskin'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Thieves Picks'''
|'''''1 lb'''''
|-
|'''Fine Quality Deck of Playing Cards'''
|'''''1/2 Ounce'''''
|-
|'''Total'''
|'''''19.5 lbs'''''
|-
|}

== Languages ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Common'''
|-
|'''Vox Mercanti'''
|-
|'''Thieves' Cant'''
|-
|}

== Background ==
[[File:ZZDarithe2L.jpg]]

She stared at her reflection in the mirror for a long time. The red hair would take some getting used to. The shorn locks of her previously long tresses less so, as that frequently just got in the way of her skills. No sign of her Da's dark hair now, the only part she truly inherited from him. Just as the freckles across her pale features came from her mother. Her hands were near as red as the hair stained from the dye. Somehow that seemed apt. She scrubbed the dye from her hands in the washbasin. At least that stain could be washed away...

Darithe Thorne was her name now. Once she had been Meav Delte, the daughter of a blacksmith in the town of Belies-ar-Weil, located mid-way along the coast of Athervon between Avis Inia, the seat of the Kingdom, to the North, and Avis Armois, the oldest and most far-flung of the Kingdom’s major cities, to the South. Her father was as dumb as the anvil he pounded everyday, but he was kind and had a ready smile, and was gentle with his young daughters Meav and her sister Vari. He did his best to support his two daughters on what little income he could make from shoeing horses and hammering out crude nails to build the rickety buildings in this poor section of town.

Their mother passed from a fever when Vari was five. Meav was three years older and did the best she could for her Da and young sister. She took care of them and when money was short she did what she had to for a few more coins to add to their larder. She helped in the smithy as much as she could and took care of delivering special orders for her Da. She found with a pretty smile she would sometimes even get tips, not much, but everything helped. She was poor but she was bright. She quickly picked up some smithing skills from her father and taught herself to read and write, which was rare for the people from her part of town.

Belis-ar-Weil was neither particularly large nor particularly small; but it held a strategic location at the mouth of the Aumine river, which carried the riches of the Kingdom’s interior to the sea, where it was then sent to either Avis Inia or Avis Armois for final destinations. Due to this vast amount of traffic in lucrative goods, the town had more than its fair share of criminal element, intent on skimming some of the proceeds for themselves. While there were a number of gangs that operated around the town, all paid their respects to the notorious Five Points Brotherhood. The Brotherhood was a huge network of Thieves that had bases over nearly the entire Kingdom – at least, that was what was said. Based out of the Capitol, The Brotherhood controlled virtually all the illegal traffic flowing on the land route between Avis Inia and Tras Veniri, and had a heavy hand in distribution to points beyond inside of Athervon. No one of sane mind crossed The Brotherhood – their operatives and informants were everywhere, and they did not hesitate to deal with problems that threatened their profitable position.

Meav had never planned to join them. To the contrary, she had always steered clear of the young gangs of new recruits, and ignored their catcalls, offers, and sometimes threats as she made her deliveries in town – that she could deal with. What really made her pick up her pace was the way one of the older members – a street captain known as Dregs – looked at her. He didn’t seem to be looking at the pretty young woman with leering eyes and lustful sneers like the others. No, Dregs always seemed to be assessing whether she might be useful to him, whether she could be an asset to his operation. His cold gaze watched her every time she passed, but he never said a thing – just gave a slight touch to his cap in greeting after their eyes met, and then turned back to his business.

She choked back a laugh thinking about it now.

She managed to keep things on an even keel until her 17th year. That was the year her Da passed – walking home at night after the neighborhood innkeeper had rewarded him with a few pints for some emergency repairs to some of his stable equipment, he must’ve never seen the horseman, riding at a full gallop along the dark road. She ran out at the sounds and screams to see him lying in the mud, blood beginning to form a small pool around him. The rider never stopped, disappearing into the darkness.

After Da was in the ground, she assessed the situation, and realized something had to give. She didn't see herself or Vari swinging a hammer to make a living. She retched at the thought of some of the things women did for coin near the docks – she would die before that became her fate. Then the faces of the gang captains came to her – that cold gaze, assessing her. Perhaps she could be of use to them.

She had no idea how to initiate a conversation about this, but her mind was made up. She walked directly up to Dregs through the crowd of his young proteges, the blood that was pounding in her ears drowning out their infantile suggestions and insults.

“I need some work.” She blurted it out without even knowing it. She held her breath waiting for him to speak.

For a moment, he didn’t – just looked at her again with the same cold eyes.

Finally, he spoke. “B’out time. Let’s get ya to Fergasse, see what he has fer ya.” His voice was rough, thin, fitting his grizzled appearance perfectly. She realized it was the first time she had ever heard it.

Fergasse was the local Master of The Brotherhood, overseeing their operations in the town. If he had ever been a working thief, there was no way to tell now – he was a very fat man, who spent more time overseeing account books than picking pockets. But he was the ordained boss for The Brotherhood in town, and he did not need to worry about his girth – there were plenty of fit gang members who would take care of any of Fergasse’s problems.

Dregs brought her to a warehouse by the docks, one she had always been warned to stay away from by Ma & Da. She had to pass by room after room of intimidating looking men, and one even patted her down and felt her up making sure she didn’t have a weapon. Finally she was in Fergasse’s “office”, a large room filled with boxes, bags, sacks, barrels, crates, chests, and every manner of thing used to transport goods – as well as piles and piles of leather-bound books: ship’s journals, logs, account books, inventory scrolls. Fergasse supervised a small army of men moving things in and out while another army was copying and modifying books, writing so fast they were sweating. Fergasse’s eye flicked to her after Dreg was able to whisper something in his ear, and he spat something back she didn’t hear, before he turned back to conducting the mayhem in the room.

Dreg took her back to her place and told her how it would work. She would start just doing "special deliveries" and watching for the town guard who's eyes were easily distracted by a lithe darkhaired lass. It was easy work for the most part, and she was good at it – folks knew her Da was gone, and men circled her like buzzards if she gave them the chance, wanting to be there when her finances or her will finally broke.

But those tasks weren't enough to support her and Vari; soon, she was pestering Dreg for bigger opportunity. Happy with her performance, he graduated her to more advanced work for the guild.

She took to the tasks like a bird to the air. It excited her. It gave her freedom from the drudgery of the smithy. And the coins to be had (earned?) were greater than she had ever seen. Though just eighteen by then, she quickly became a rising star in the guild. Soon enough, Dregs re-introduced her to Fergasse at the Bosses’ request. Fergasse wanted to have a look at this new recruit who was making him so much money.

As Fergasse spoke about the impression she had made, and that if she played her cards right she could have a bright future in The Brotherhood, she noticed a young man lounging back on a pile of grain sacks, staring at her with dark, hooded eyes. She had seen that stare before, but she was not that person anymore. She ignored the look, her lip curling into a mild sneer to express her disinterest.

After the meeting was over, she asked Dregs about the man. “Eh? On the sacks? Ach, thas Dany – Fergasse’s boyo. What ye’want wit him? Oh ya? Fancy’s ya does he? Well, ya be careful lass – that boyo’s got more problems than the Emperor of Jhon, he does – and he’ll make’em your problems if ya let ‘im. Best steer clear of ‘im, stay focused on yer work. He’s trouble if you like ‘im – but he’s also trouble if ya don’t, if ya take my meaning. Don’t make Fergasse choose between yas.”

She learned from others that Dany was an addict – he smoked the seeds from the Jhonian mazak plant, which generated the dark circles around his eyes and the vacant stare.

She heeded Dregs advice and made every attempt to avoid Dany. But to her dismay, Dany had other ideas. Apparently infatuated by her, he began hanging out in her neighborhood, repeatedly offering to buy her dinner, drinks, or to join him in a harmless smoke. She rebuffed him – gently, carefully, always saying that she had something to get done for his father. More than once she had to signal Dregs to intercept them and provide an escape. She began to stay away from the house more – Vari had enough money and was getting old enough to take care of herself and most of the chores at home while Meav earned their keep.

She used the time to hone her skills every day and the exciting life on the edge became like a drug to her. What started as a tactic to avoid Dany soon became a need to spend more and more time finding ways to complete the jobs allotted to her in the most impressive way possible. Vari was left to fend for herself as Meav was gone more and more, but Meav told herself Vari would have to learn to manage the home at some point, which assuaged her guilt at not being home with her sister.

One night, exhausted from nearly two solid days of casing a new ship that had arrived, she came home and found Vari in her bed – with Dany lying next to her. From the look of it, they had apparently been celebrating for days – there were clothes and half-eaten meals everywhere. The bitter-sweet smell of mazak hit her nostrils, and she noticed several pipes were strewn about, full of the dark tarry residue the drug leaves.

Meav was incensed – Vari had ruined everything! Now what was she going to do?

She carefully stepped over Dany and shook Vari, whispering for her to get up. But the girl remained prone, motionless. She shook harder, finally pulling her hard and flipping her over – to recoil in horror as the wide, sightless eyes of her sister stared back at her from dark hooded sockets, the open lips tinged blue.

Meav stumbled back against the wall, her heart pounding. She couldn’t think. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

She started as Dany mumbled something and rolled over onto one arm, lifting himself up on his elbow. His heavy-lidded eyes revealed he was still in the throes of the drug. He reached out to Vari, touching the dead girls arm. A minute later, a giggle erupted from him.

“I told…told you. You got to…to work up to…to it. Can’t be doing what I do. Sil…silly…girl.”

He flopped down, finally noticing Meav. “Oh…hey. You’re here. That’s great – I really was interested in you more anyway.” His eyes fluttered closed again, and he resumed gently snoring.

That day Meav picked up her Da's hammer for the last time in doing so ended her time in the guild, and guildmaster's son's life.

She looked once more in the mirror. Meav was dead, and Darithe reborn from her ashes. A dark phoenix for sure. She gathered her meager belongs and wrapped herself in her father oversized cloak and started outside. She glanced once more back at the smithy and then was gone. She walked on leaving the past behind.

A new town then, one where she is unknown. A place to disappear. The further from The Brotherhood, the better. Getting on a ship was too dangerous – The Brotherhood controlled the river and sea trade, she would be seen and her suspicious departure noted, if not prevented altogether. No, she had to leave by land.

In the dark of night, she stole down the South Road, which followed the coast all the way to Avis Armois. Far from the Capitol, perhaps there she could shake pursuit long enough to come up with a more long-term plan. The Mire Queen now beckoned to her which seemed appropriate somehow having become mired herself. As she walked she whispered a soft prayer (to whom she did not know) for forgiveness. But in her heart she knew forgiveness was reserved for those who deserved it.

The best steel doesn't always shine the brightest. Her da had taught her that and she thought of him as she walked south towards Avis Armois, the greatcloak wrapped around her due to the cool of the morn. She could still faintly smell him on it and those smells were comforting, almost as if he still embraced her in the folds of that big cloak. She breathed them in and smiled thinking of him, the pungent smell of the corrosive oils he used to clean his tools were there, and the pleasant smokey aroma of the coals of his forge still clung to the threads, and the musky smell of sweat after a good hard day of honest... She stopped abruptly and bit her lower lip. She sighed, the past is written. She could not change it no matter how much she wished to. But the future is a blank page. And that she could write.

She spotted a small family going in the opposite direction approaching, a young man, his pretty wife and two small girls tugging at their parent's cloaks. She smiled and nodded to them as their paths crossed. Her mind calling back memories of her own youth and her sister Vari. She turned and caught back up to the family offering them most of her fruit. It wouldn't last long and she knew she couldn't eat it all before it went bad. She kept a stem of grapes for herself and waved to them as they continued their journey farther away from her. She returned to the path she had chosen and walked on alone.

Landsoftheblacksea:Main Page/players/danithe thorne

2021-01-21T00:30:22Z

Darithe: /* Equipment Stored in Rooms */

[[ Landsoftheblacksea:Main_Page#Player_Characters | '''Return to the Main Page''']]

A woman running from her past and perhaps seeking redemption.

[[File:ZZDarithe2C.jpg | thumb]]

== Basics ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Character Name !! Player Name !! Race !! Class !! Alignment !! AC !! Experience !! Hit Points
|-
| Darithe Thorne (Meav Delte) || Desconocida || Human || Thief 3 || Chaotic Good || 7 (With Dex Adj) || 1250|| 11
|-
|}

== Physical ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Age !! Height !! Weight !! Eye Colour !! Hair Colour
|-
| 19 || 5'6" || 110 lbs || Light Green || Black
|}

== Stats ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:left"
|-
| Strength || '''11''' || ''Wt. Allowance: 40#; Max Press: 115#; Open Doors: 6; Bend Bars: 2%''
|-
| Dexterity || '''17''' || ''+2 React. Adj; +2 Missile Att. Adj.; -3 Def. Adj.''
|-
| Constitution || '''12''' || ''Sys. Shock: 80%; Res. Surv: 85%''
|-
| Intelligence || '''14''' || ''#Lang: 4''
|-
| Wisdom || '''10''' ||
|-
| Charisma || '''16''' || ''Mx. Hench: 8; Loy. Base: +4; Reac. Adj.: +5''
|-
|}

+10% XP Bonus

== Saving Throws ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Paralyzation/Poison/Death Magic !! Rod, Staff or Wand !! Petrification or Plymorph !! Breath Weapon !! Spell
|-
|| 13 || 14 || 13 || 15 || 12
|}
== Weapon Proficiencies ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Dagger'''
|-
|'''Hand Crossbow'''
|-
|}
== Nonweapon Proficiencies ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Blacksmithing (11)'''
|-
|'''Cooking (14)'''
|-
|'''Healing (8)'''
|-
|'''Herbalism (12)'''
|-
|'''Swimming (11)'''
|-
|'''Tumbling (17)'''
|-
|}

== Thieves Abilities ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
| '''Pick Pockets''' || 15% + 5% (DEX) + 5% (no armor) =25% ||
|-
| '''Open Locks''' || 30% + 10% (DEX) = 50% ||
|-
| '''Find/Remove Traps''' || 40% ||
|-
| '''Move Silently''' || 30% + 5% (DEX) + 10% (no armor) = 45% || Movement reduced to 1/3
|-
| '''Hide in Shadows''' || 35% + 5% (DEX) + 5% (no armor) = 45% ||
|-
| '''Detect Noise''' || 18% ||
|-
| '''Climb Walls''' || 60% + 10% (no armor) = 70% ||
|-
| '''Read Languages''' || 2% ||
|-
|}

== Encumbrance ==
{| class="wikitable"
|'''Unencumbered'''
|'''''0-40'''''
|-
|'''Light'''
|'''''41-58'''''
|-
|'''Moderate'''
|'''''59-76'''''
|-
|'''Heavy'''
|'''''77-96'''''
|-
|'''Severe'''
|'''''97-110'''''
|-
|}
== Equipment ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Clothing'''
|'''''5 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Backpack'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Small pouch'''
|'''''0.5 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Hand Crossbow'''
|'''''3 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Dagger (x2)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|-style="color: blue"
|'''Dwarven made Dagger (x2)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Quiver'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Quarrels (20)'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Dry Rations (3 days)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Waterskin'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Thieves Picks'''
|'''''1 lb'''''
|-
|'''Fine Quality Deck of Playing Cards'''
|'''''1/2 Ounce'''''
|-
|'''Total'''
|'''''19.5 lbs'''''
|-
|}

== Equipment Stored in Rooms ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Clothing'''
|'''''5 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Backpack'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Small pouch'''
|'''''0.5 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Hand Crossbow'''
|'''''3 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Dagger (x2)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|-style="color: blue"
|'''Dwarven made Dagger (x2)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Quiver'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Quarrels (20)'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Dry Rations (3 days)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Waterskin'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Thieves Picks'''
|'''''1 lb'''''
|-
|'''Fine Quality Deck of Playing Cards'''
|'''''1/2 Ounce'''''
|-
|'''Total'''
|'''''19.5 lbs'''''
|-
|}

== Languages ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Common'''
|-
|'''Vox Mercanti'''
|-
|'''Thieves' Cant'''
|-
|}

== Background ==
[[File:ZZDarithe2L.jpg]]

She stared at her reflection in the mirror for a long time. The red hair would take some getting used to. The shorn locks of her previously long tresses less so, as that frequently just got in the way of her skills. No sign of her Da's dark hair now, the only part she truly inherited from him. Just as the freckles across her pale features came from her mother. Her hands were near as red as the hair stained from the dye. Somehow that seemed apt. She scrubbed the dye from her hands in the washbasin. At least that stain could be washed away...

Darithe Thorne was her name now. Once she had been Meav Delte, the daughter of a blacksmith in the town of Belies-ar-Weil, located mid-way along the coast of Athervon between Avis Inia, the seat of the Kingdom, to the North, and Avis Armois, the oldest and most far-flung of the Kingdom’s major cities, to the South. Her father was as dumb as the anvil he pounded everyday, but he was kind and had a ready smile, and was gentle with his young daughters Meav and her sister Vari. He did his best to support his two daughters on what little income he could make from shoeing horses and hammering out crude nails to build the rickety buildings in this poor section of town.

Their mother passed from a fever when Vari was five. Meav was three years older and did the best she could for her Da and young sister. She took care of them and when money was short she did what she had to for a few more coins to add to their larder. She helped in the smithy as much as she could and took care of delivering special orders for her Da. She found with a pretty smile she would sometimes even get tips, not much, but everything helped. She was poor but she was bright. She quickly picked up some smithing skills from her father and taught herself to read and write, which was rare for the people from her part of town.

Belis-ar-Weil was neither particularly large nor particularly small; but it held a strategic location at the mouth of the Aumine river, which carried the riches of the Kingdom’s interior to the sea, where it was then sent to either Avis Inia or Avis Armois for final destinations. Due to this vast amount of traffic in lucrative goods, the town had more than its fair share of criminal element, intent on skimming some of the proceeds for themselves. While there were a number of gangs that operated around the town, all paid their respects to the notorious Five Points Brotherhood. The Brotherhood was a huge network of Thieves that had bases over nearly the entire Kingdom – at least, that was what was said. Based out of the Capitol, The Brotherhood controlled virtually all the illegal traffic flowing on the land route between Avis Inia and Tras Veniri, and had a heavy hand in distribution to points beyond inside of Athervon. No one of sane mind crossed The Brotherhood – their operatives and informants were everywhere, and they did not hesitate to deal with problems that threatened their profitable position.

Meav had never planned to join them. To the contrary, she had always steered clear of the young gangs of new recruits, and ignored their catcalls, offers, and sometimes threats as she made her deliveries in town – that she could deal with. What really made her pick up her pace was the way one of the older members – a street captain known as Dregs – looked at her. He didn’t seem to be looking at the pretty young woman with leering eyes and lustful sneers like the others. No, Dregs always seemed to be assessing whether she might be useful to him, whether she could be an asset to his operation. His cold gaze watched her every time she passed, but he never said a thing – just gave a slight touch to his cap in greeting after their eyes met, and then turned back to his business.

She choked back a laugh thinking about it now.

She managed to keep things on an even keel until her 17th year. That was the year her Da passed – walking home at night after the neighborhood innkeeper had rewarded him with a few pints for some emergency repairs to some of his stable equipment, he must’ve never seen the horseman, riding at a full gallop along the dark road. She ran out at the sounds and screams to see him lying in the mud, blood beginning to form a small pool around him. The rider never stopped, disappearing into the darkness.

After Da was in the ground, she assessed the situation, and realized something had to give. She didn't see herself or Vari swinging a hammer to make a living. She retched at the thought of some of the things women did for coin near the docks – she would die before that became her fate. Then the faces of the gang captains came to her – that cold gaze, assessing her. Perhaps she could be of use to them.

She had no idea how to initiate a conversation about this, but her mind was made up. She walked directly up to Dregs through the crowd of his young proteges, the blood that was pounding in her ears drowning out their infantile suggestions and insults.

“I need some work.” She blurted it out without even knowing it. She held her breath waiting for him to speak.

For a moment, he didn’t – just looked at her again with the same cold eyes.

Finally, he spoke. “B’out time. Let’s get ya to Fergasse, see what he has fer ya.” His voice was rough, thin, fitting his grizzled appearance perfectly. She realized it was the first time she had ever heard it.

Fergasse was the local Master of The Brotherhood, overseeing their operations in the town. If he had ever been a working thief, there was no way to tell now – he was a very fat man, who spent more time overseeing account books than picking pockets. But he was the ordained boss for The Brotherhood in town, and he did not need to worry about his girth – there were plenty of fit gang members who would take care of any of Fergasse’s problems.

Dregs brought her to a warehouse by the docks, one she had always been warned to stay away from by Ma & Da. She had to pass by room after room of intimidating looking men, and one even patted her down and felt her up making sure she didn’t have a weapon. Finally she was in Fergasse’s “office”, a large room filled with boxes, bags, sacks, barrels, crates, chests, and every manner of thing used to transport goods – as well as piles and piles of leather-bound books: ship’s journals, logs, account books, inventory scrolls. Fergasse supervised a small army of men moving things in and out while another army was copying and modifying books, writing so fast they were sweating. Fergasse’s eye flicked to her after Dreg was able to whisper something in his ear, and he spat something back she didn’t hear, before he turned back to conducting the mayhem in the room.

Dreg took her back to her place and told her how it would work. She would start just doing "special deliveries" and watching for the town guard who's eyes were easily distracted by a lithe darkhaired lass. It was easy work for the most part, and she was good at it – folks knew her Da was gone, and men circled her like buzzards if she gave them the chance, wanting to be there when her finances or her will finally broke.

But those tasks weren't enough to support her and Vari; soon, she was pestering Dreg for bigger opportunity. Happy with her performance, he graduated her to more advanced work for the guild.

She took to the tasks like a bird to the air. It excited her. It gave her freedom from the drudgery of the smithy. And the coins to be had (earned?) were greater than she had ever seen. Though just eighteen by then, she quickly became a rising star in the guild. Soon enough, Dregs re-introduced her to Fergasse at the Bosses’ request. Fergasse wanted to have a look at this new recruit who was making him so much money.

As Fergasse spoke about the impression she had made, and that if she played her cards right she could have a bright future in The Brotherhood, she noticed a young man lounging back on a pile of grain sacks, staring at her with dark, hooded eyes. She had seen that stare before, but she was not that person anymore. She ignored the look, her lip curling into a mild sneer to express her disinterest.

After the meeting was over, she asked Dregs about the man. “Eh? On the sacks? Ach, thas Dany – Fergasse’s boyo. What ye’want wit him? Oh ya? Fancy’s ya does he? Well, ya be careful lass – that boyo’s got more problems than the Emperor of Jhon, he does – and he’ll make’em your problems if ya let ‘im. Best steer clear of ‘im, stay focused on yer work. He’s trouble if you like ‘im – but he’s also trouble if ya don’t, if ya take my meaning. Don’t make Fergasse choose between yas.”

She learned from others that Dany was an addict – he smoked the seeds from the Jhonian mazak plant, which generated the dark circles around his eyes and the vacant stare.

She heeded Dregs advice and made every attempt to avoid Dany. But to her dismay, Dany had other ideas. Apparently infatuated by her, he began hanging out in her neighborhood, repeatedly offering to buy her dinner, drinks, or to join him in a harmless smoke. She rebuffed him – gently, carefully, always saying that she had something to get done for his father. More than once she had to signal Dregs to intercept them and provide an escape. She began to stay away from the house more – Vari had enough money and was getting old enough to take care of herself and most of the chores at home while Meav earned their keep.

She used the time to hone her skills every day and the exciting life on the edge became like a drug to her. What started as a tactic to avoid Dany soon became a need to spend more and more time finding ways to complete the jobs allotted to her in the most impressive way possible. Vari was left to fend for herself as Meav was gone more and more, but Meav told herself Vari would have to learn to manage the home at some point, which assuaged her guilt at not being home with her sister.

One night, exhausted from nearly two solid days of casing a new ship that had arrived, she came home and found Vari in her bed – with Dany lying next to her. From the look of it, they had apparently been celebrating for days – there were clothes and half-eaten meals everywhere. The bitter-sweet smell of mazak hit her nostrils, and she noticed several pipes were strewn about, full of the dark tarry residue the drug leaves.

Meav was incensed – Vari had ruined everything! Now what was she going to do?

She carefully stepped over Dany and shook Vari, whispering for her to get up. But the girl remained prone, motionless. She shook harder, finally pulling her hard and flipping her over – to recoil in horror as the wide, sightless eyes of her sister stared back at her from dark hooded sockets, the open lips tinged blue.

Meav stumbled back against the wall, her heart pounding. She couldn’t think. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

She started as Dany mumbled something and rolled over onto one arm, lifting himself up on his elbow. His heavy-lidded eyes revealed he was still in the throes of the drug. He reached out to Vari, touching the dead girls arm. A minute later, a giggle erupted from him.

“I told…told you. You got to…to work up to…to it. Can’t be doing what I do. Sil…silly…girl.”

He flopped down, finally noticing Meav. “Oh…hey. You’re here. That’s great – I really was interested in you more anyway.” His eyes fluttered closed again, and he resumed gently snoring.

That day Meav picked up her Da's hammer for the last time in doing so ended her time in the guild, and guildmaster's son's life.

She looked once more in the mirror. Meav was dead, and Darithe reborn from her ashes. A dark phoenix for sure. She gathered her meager belongs and wrapped herself in her father oversized cloak and started outside. She glanced once more back at the smithy and then was gone. She walked on leaving the past behind.

A new town then, one where she is unknown. A place to disappear. The further from The Brotherhood, the better. Getting on a ship was too dangerous – The Brotherhood controlled the river and sea trade, she would be seen and her suspicious departure noted, if not prevented altogether. No, she had to leave by land.

In the dark of night, she stole down the South Road, which followed the coast all the way to Avis Armois. Far from the Capitol, perhaps there she could shake pursuit long enough to come up with a more long-term plan. The Mire Queen now beckoned to her which seemed appropriate somehow having become mired herself. As she walked she whispered a soft prayer (to whom she did not know) for forgiveness. But in her heart she knew forgiveness was reserved for those who deserved it.

The best steel doesn't always shine the brightest. Her da had taught her that and she thought of him as she walked south towards Avis Armois, the greatcloak wrapped around her due to the cool of the morn. She could still faintly smell him on it and those smells were comforting, almost as if he still embraced her in the folds of that big cloak. She breathed them in and smiled thinking of him, the pungent smell of the corrosive oils he used to clean his tools were there, and the pleasant smokey aroma of the coals of his forge still clung to the threads, and the musky smell of sweat after a good hard day of honest... She stopped abruptly and bit her lower lip. She sighed, the past is written. She could not change it no matter how much she wished to. But the future is a blank page. And that she could write.

She spotted a small family going in the opposite direction approaching, a young man, his pretty wife and two small girls tugging at their parent's cloaks. She smiled and nodded to them as their paths crossed. Her mind calling back memories of her own youth and her sister Vari. She turned and caught back up to the family offering them most of her fruit. It wouldn't last long and she knew she couldn't eat it all before it went bad. She kept a stem of grapes for herself and waved to them as they continued their journey farther away from her. She returned to the path she had chosen and walked on alone.

Landsoftheblacksea:Main Page/players/danithe thorne

2021-01-21T00:29:51Z

Darithe: /* Equipment Stored in Rooms */

[[ Landsoftheblacksea:Main_Page#Player_Characters | '''Return to the Main Page''']]

A woman running from her past and perhaps seeking redemption.

[[File:ZZDarithe2C.jpg | thumb]]

== Basics ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Character Name !! Player Name !! Race !! Class !! Alignment !! AC !! Experience !! Hit Points
|-
| Darithe Thorne (Meav Delte) || Desconocida || Human || Thief 3 || Chaotic Good || 7 (With Dex Adj) || 1250|| 11
|-
|}

== Physical ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Age !! Height !! Weight !! Eye Colour !! Hair Colour
|-
| 19 || 5'6" || 110 lbs || Light Green || Black
|}

== Stats ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:left"
|-
| Strength || '''11''' || ''Wt. Allowance: 40#; Max Press: 115#; Open Doors: 6; Bend Bars: 2%''
|-
| Dexterity || '''17''' || ''+2 React. Adj; +2 Missile Att. Adj.; -3 Def. Adj.''
|-
| Constitution || '''12''' || ''Sys. Shock: 80%; Res. Surv: 85%''
|-
| Intelligence || '''14''' || ''#Lang: 4''
|-
| Wisdom || '''10''' ||
|-
| Charisma || '''16''' || ''Mx. Hench: 8; Loy. Base: +4; Reac. Adj.: +5''
|-
|}

+10% XP Bonus

== Saving Throws ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Paralyzation/Poison/Death Magic !! Rod, Staff or Wand !! Petrification or Plymorph !! Breath Weapon !! Spell
|-
|| 13 || 14 || 13 || 15 || 12
|}
== Weapon Proficiencies ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Dagger'''
|-
|'''Hand Crossbow'''
|-
|}
== Nonweapon Proficiencies ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Blacksmithing (11)'''
|-
|'''Cooking (14)'''
|-
|'''Healing (8)'''
|-
|'''Herbalism (12)'''
|-
|'''Swimming (11)'''
|-
|'''Tumbling (17)'''
|-
|}

== Thieves Abilities ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
| '''Pick Pockets''' || 15% + 5% (DEX) + 5% (no armor) =25% ||
|-
| '''Open Locks''' || 30% + 10% (DEX) = 50% ||
|-
| '''Find/Remove Traps''' || 40% ||
|-
| '''Move Silently''' || 30% + 5% (DEX) + 10% (no armor) = 45% || Movement reduced to 1/3
|-
| '''Hide in Shadows''' || 35% + 5% (DEX) + 5% (no armor) = 45% ||
|-
| '''Detect Noise''' || 18% ||
|-
| '''Climb Walls''' || 60% + 10% (no armor) = 70% ||
|-
| '''Read Languages''' || 2% ||
|-
|}

== Encumbrance ==
{| class="wikitable"
|'''Unencumbered'''
|'''''0-40'''''
|-
|'''Light'''
|'''''41-58'''''
|-
|'''Moderate'''
|'''''59-76'''''
|-
|'''Heavy'''
|'''''77-96'''''
|-
|'''Severe'''
|'''''97-110'''''
|-
|}
== Equipment ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Clothing'''
|'''''5 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Backpack'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Small pouch'''
|'''''0.5 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Hand Crossbow'''
|'''''3 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Dagger (x2)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|-style="color: blue"
|'''Dwarven made Dagger (x2)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Quiver'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Quarrels (20)'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Dry Rations (3 days)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Waterskin'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Thieves Picks'''
|'''''1 lb'''''
|-
|'''Fine Quality Deck of Playing Cards'''
|'''''1/2 Ounce'''''
|-
|'''Total'''
|'''''19.5 lbs'''''
|-
|}

== Equipment Stored in Rooms ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Numerous Changes of Clothing'''
|-

== Languages ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Common'''
|-
|'''Vox Mercanti'''
|-
|'''Thieves' Cant'''
|-
|}

== Background ==
[[File:ZZDarithe2L.jpg]]

She stared at her reflection in the mirror for a long time. The red hair would take some getting used to. The shorn locks of her previously long tresses less so, as that frequently just got in the way of her skills. No sign of her Da's dark hair now, the only part she truly inherited from him. Just as the freckles across her pale features came from her mother. Her hands were near as red as the hair stained from the dye. Somehow that seemed apt. She scrubbed the dye from her hands in the washbasin. At least that stain could be washed away...

Darithe Thorne was her name now. Once she had been Meav Delte, the daughter of a blacksmith in the town of Belies-ar-Weil, located mid-way along the coast of Athervon between Avis Inia, the seat of the Kingdom, to the North, and Avis Armois, the oldest and most far-flung of the Kingdom’s major cities, to the South. Her father was as dumb as the anvil he pounded everyday, but he was kind and had a ready smile, and was gentle with his young daughters Meav and her sister Vari. He did his best to support his two daughters on what little income he could make from shoeing horses and hammering out crude nails to build the rickety buildings in this poor section of town.

Their mother passed from a fever when Vari was five. Meav was three years older and did the best she could for her Da and young sister. She took care of them and when money was short she did what she had to for a few more coins to add to their larder. She helped in the smithy as much as she could and took care of delivering special orders for her Da. She found with a pretty smile she would sometimes even get tips, not much, but everything helped. She was poor but she was bright. She quickly picked up some smithing skills from her father and taught herself to read and write, which was rare for the people from her part of town.

Belis-ar-Weil was neither particularly large nor particularly small; but it held a strategic location at the mouth of the Aumine river, which carried the riches of the Kingdom’s interior to the sea, where it was then sent to either Avis Inia or Avis Armois for final destinations. Due to this vast amount of traffic in lucrative goods, the town had more than its fair share of criminal element, intent on skimming some of the proceeds for themselves. While there were a number of gangs that operated around the town, all paid their respects to the notorious Five Points Brotherhood. The Brotherhood was a huge network of Thieves that had bases over nearly the entire Kingdom – at least, that was what was said. Based out of the Capitol, The Brotherhood controlled virtually all the illegal traffic flowing on the land route between Avis Inia and Tras Veniri, and had a heavy hand in distribution to points beyond inside of Athervon. No one of sane mind crossed The Brotherhood – their operatives and informants were everywhere, and they did not hesitate to deal with problems that threatened their profitable position.

Meav had never planned to join them. To the contrary, she had always steered clear of the young gangs of new recruits, and ignored their catcalls, offers, and sometimes threats as she made her deliveries in town – that she could deal with. What really made her pick up her pace was the way one of the older members – a street captain known as Dregs – looked at her. He didn’t seem to be looking at the pretty young woman with leering eyes and lustful sneers like the others. No, Dregs always seemed to be assessing whether she might be useful to him, whether she could be an asset to his operation. His cold gaze watched her every time she passed, but he never said a thing – just gave a slight touch to his cap in greeting after their eyes met, and then turned back to his business.

She choked back a laugh thinking about it now.

She managed to keep things on an even keel until her 17th year. That was the year her Da passed – walking home at night after the neighborhood innkeeper had rewarded him with a few pints for some emergency repairs to some of his stable equipment, he must’ve never seen the horseman, riding at a full gallop along the dark road. She ran out at the sounds and screams to see him lying in the mud, blood beginning to form a small pool around him. The rider never stopped, disappearing into the darkness.

After Da was in the ground, she assessed the situation, and realized something had to give. She didn't see herself or Vari swinging a hammer to make a living. She retched at the thought of some of the things women did for coin near the docks – she would die before that became her fate. Then the faces of the gang captains came to her – that cold gaze, assessing her. Perhaps she could be of use to them.

She had no idea how to initiate a conversation about this, but her mind was made up. She walked directly up to Dregs through the crowd of his young proteges, the blood that was pounding in her ears drowning out their infantile suggestions and insults.

“I need some work.” She blurted it out without even knowing it. She held her breath waiting for him to speak.

For a moment, he didn’t – just looked at her again with the same cold eyes.

Finally, he spoke. “B’out time. Let’s get ya to Fergasse, see what he has fer ya.” His voice was rough, thin, fitting his grizzled appearance perfectly. She realized it was the first time she had ever heard it.

Fergasse was the local Master of The Brotherhood, overseeing their operations in the town. If he had ever been a working thief, there was no way to tell now – he was a very fat man, who spent more time overseeing account books than picking pockets. But he was the ordained boss for The Brotherhood in town, and he did not need to worry about his girth – there were plenty of fit gang members who would take care of any of Fergasse’s problems.

Dregs brought her to a warehouse by the docks, one she had always been warned to stay away from by Ma & Da. She had to pass by room after room of intimidating looking men, and one even patted her down and felt her up making sure she didn’t have a weapon. Finally she was in Fergasse’s “office”, a large room filled with boxes, bags, sacks, barrels, crates, chests, and every manner of thing used to transport goods – as well as piles and piles of leather-bound books: ship’s journals, logs, account books, inventory scrolls. Fergasse supervised a small army of men moving things in and out while another army was copying and modifying books, writing so fast they were sweating. Fergasse’s eye flicked to her after Dreg was able to whisper something in his ear, and he spat something back she didn’t hear, before he turned back to conducting the mayhem in the room.

Dreg took her back to her place and told her how it would work. She would start just doing "special deliveries" and watching for the town guard who's eyes were easily distracted by a lithe darkhaired lass. It was easy work for the most part, and she was good at it – folks knew her Da was gone, and men circled her like buzzards if she gave them the chance, wanting to be there when her finances or her will finally broke.

But those tasks weren't enough to support her and Vari; soon, she was pestering Dreg for bigger opportunity. Happy with her performance, he graduated her to more advanced work for the guild.

She took to the tasks like a bird to the air. It excited her. It gave her freedom from the drudgery of the smithy. And the coins to be had (earned?) were greater than she had ever seen. Though just eighteen by then, she quickly became a rising star in the guild. Soon enough, Dregs re-introduced her to Fergasse at the Bosses’ request. Fergasse wanted to have a look at this new recruit who was making him so much money.

As Fergasse spoke about the impression she had made, and that if she played her cards right she could have a bright future in The Brotherhood, she noticed a young man lounging back on a pile of grain sacks, staring at her with dark, hooded eyes. She had seen that stare before, but she was not that person anymore. She ignored the look, her lip curling into a mild sneer to express her disinterest.

After the meeting was over, she asked Dregs about the man. “Eh? On the sacks? Ach, thas Dany – Fergasse’s boyo. What ye’want wit him? Oh ya? Fancy’s ya does he? Well, ya be careful lass – that boyo’s got more problems than the Emperor of Jhon, he does – and he’ll make’em your problems if ya let ‘im. Best steer clear of ‘im, stay focused on yer work. He’s trouble if you like ‘im – but he’s also trouble if ya don’t, if ya take my meaning. Don’t make Fergasse choose between yas.”

She learned from others that Dany was an addict – he smoked the seeds from the Jhonian mazak plant, which generated the dark circles around his eyes and the vacant stare.

She heeded Dregs advice and made every attempt to avoid Dany. But to her dismay, Dany had other ideas. Apparently infatuated by her, he began hanging out in her neighborhood, repeatedly offering to buy her dinner, drinks, or to join him in a harmless smoke. She rebuffed him – gently, carefully, always saying that she had something to get done for his father. More than once she had to signal Dregs to intercept them and provide an escape. She began to stay away from the house more – Vari had enough money and was getting old enough to take care of herself and most of the chores at home while Meav earned their keep.

She used the time to hone her skills every day and the exciting life on the edge became like a drug to her. What started as a tactic to avoid Dany soon became a need to spend more and more time finding ways to complete the jobs allotted to her in the most impressive way possible. Vari was left to fend for herself as Meav was gone more and more, but Meav told herself Vari would have to learn to manage the home at some point, which assuaged her guilt at not being home with her sister.

One night, exhausted from nearly two solid days of casing a new ship that had arrived, she came home and found Vari in her bed – with Dany lying next to her. From the look of it, they had apparently been celebrating for days – there were clothes and half-eaten meals everywhere. The bitter-sweet smell of mazak hit her nostrils, and she noticed several pipes were strewn about, full of the dark tarry residue the drug leaves.

Meav was incensed – Vari had ruined everything! Now what was she going to do?

She carefully stepped over Dany and shook Vari, whispering for her to get up. But the girl remained prone, motionless. She shook harder, finally pulling her hard and flipping her over – to recoil in horror as the wide, sightless eyes of her sister stared back at her from dark hooded sockets, the open lips tinged blue.

Meav stumbled back against the wall, her heart pounding. She couldn’t think. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

She started as Dany mumbled something and rolled over onto one arm, lifting himself up on his elbow. His heavy-lidded eyes revealed he was still in the throes of the drug. He reached out to Vari, touching the dead girls arm. A minute later, a giggle erupted from him.

“I told…told you. You got to…to work up to…to it. Can’t be doing what I do. Sil…silly…girl.”

He flopped down, finally noticing Meav. “Oh…hey. You’re here. That’s great – I really was interested in you more anyway.” His eyes fluttered closed again, and he resumed gently snoring.

That day Meav picked up her Da's hammer for the last time in doing so ended her time in the guild, and guildmaster's son's life.

She looked once more in the mirror. Meav was dead, and Darithe reborn from her ashes. A dark phoenix for sure. She gathered her meager belongs and wrapped herself in her father oversized cloak and started outside. She glanced once more back at the smithy and then was gone. She walked on leaving the past behind.

A new town then, one where she is unknown. A place to disappear. The further from The Brotherhood, the better. Getting on a ship was too dangerous – The Brotherhood controlled the river and sea trade, she would be seen and her suspicious departure noted, if not prevented altogether. No, she had to leave by land.

In the dark of night, she stole down the South Road, which followed the coast all the way to Avis Armois. Far from the Capitol, perhaps there she could shake pursuit long enough to come up with a more long-term plan. The Mire Queen now beckoned to her which seemed appropriate somehow having become mired herself. As she walked she whispered a soft prayer (to whom she did not know) for forgiveness. But in her heart she knew forgiveness was reserved for those who deserved it.

The best steel doesn't always shine the brightest. Her da had taught her that and she thought of him as she walked south towards Avis Armois, the greatcloak wrapped around her due to the cool of the morn. She could still faintly smell him on it and those smells were comforting, almost as if he still embraced her in the folds of that big cloak. She breathed them in and smiled thinking of him, the pungent smell of the corrosive oils he used to clean his tools were there, and the pleasant smokey aroma of the coals of his forge still clung to the threads, and the musky smell of sweat after a good hard day of honest... She stopped abruptly and bit her lower lip. She sighed, the past is written. She could not change it no matter how much she wished to. But the future is a blank page. And that she could write.

She spotted a small family going in the opposite direction approaching, a young man, his pretty wife and two small girls tugging at their parent's cloaks. She smiled and nodded to them as their paths crossed. Her mind calling back memories of her own youth and her sister Vari. She turned and caught back up to the family offering them most of her fruit. It wouldn't last long and she knew she couldn't eat it all before it went bad. She kept a stem of grapes for herself and waved to them as they continued their journey farther away from her. She returned to the path she had chosen and walked on alone.

Landsoftheblacksea:Main Page/players/danithe thorne

2021-01-21T00:28:13Z

Darithe: /* Equipment */

[[ Landsoftheblacksea:Main_Page#Player_Characters | '''Return to the Main Page''']]

A woman running from her past and perhaps seeking redemption.

[[File:ZZDarithe2C.jpg | thumb]]

== Basics ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Character Name !! Player Name !! Race !! Class !! Alignment !! AC !! Experience !! Hit Points
|-
| Darithe Thorne (Meav Delte) || Desconocida || Human || Thief 3 || Chaotic Good || 7 (With Dex Adj) || 1250|| 11
|-
|}

== Physical ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Age !! Height !! Weight !! Eye Colour !! Hair Colour
|-
| 19 || 5'6" || 110 lbs || Light Green || Black
|}

== Stats ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:left"
|-
| Strength || '''11''' || ''Wt. Allowance: 40#; Max Press: 115#; Open Doors: 6; Bend Bars: 2%''
|-
| Dexterity || '''17''' || ''+2 React. Adj; +2 Missile Att. Adj.; -3 Def. Adj.''
|-
| Constitution || '''12''' || ''Sys. Shock: 80%; Res. Surv: 85%''
|-
| Intelligence || '''14''' || ''#Lang: 4''
|-
| Wisdom || '''10''' ||
|-
| Charisma || '''16''' || ''Mx. Hench: 8; Loy. Base: +4; Reac. Adj.: +5''
|-
|}

+10% XP Bonus

== Saving Throws ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Paralyzation/Poison/Death Magic !! Rod, Staff or Wand !! Petrification or Plymorph !! Breath Weapon !! Spell
|-
|| 13 || 14 || 13 || 15 || 12
|}
== Weapon Proficiencies ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Dagger'''
|-
|'''Hand Crossbow'''
|-
|}
== Nonweapon Proficiencies ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Blacksmithing (11)'''
|-
|'''Cooking (14)'''
|-
|'''Healing (8)'''
|-
|'''Herbalism (12)'''
|-
|'''Swimming (11)'''
|-
|'''Tumbling (17)'''
|-
|}

== Thieves Abilities ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
| '''Pick Pockets''' || 15% + 5% (DEX) + 5% (no armor) =25% ||
|-
| '''Open Locks''' || 30% + 10% (DEX) = 50% ||
|-
| '''Find/Remove Traps''' || 40% ||
|-
| '''Move Silently''' || 30% + 5% (DEX) + 10% (no armor) = 45% || Movement reduced to 1/3
|-
| '''Hide in Shadows''' || 35% + 5% (DEX) + 5% (no armor) = 45% ||
|-
| '''Detect Noise''' || 18% ||
|-
| '''Climb Walls''' || 60% + 10% (no armor) = 70% ||
|-
| '''Read Languages''' || 2% ||
|-
|}

== Encumbrance ==
{| class="wikitable"
|'''Unencumbered'''
|'''''0-40'''''
|-
|'''Light'''
|'''''41-58'''''
|-
|'''Moderate'''
|'''''59-76'''''
|-
|'''Heavy'''
|'''''77-96'''''
|-
|'''Severe'''
|'''''97-110'''''
|-
|}
== Equipment ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Clothing'''
|'''''5 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Backpack'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Small pouch'''
|'''''0.5 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Hand Crossbow'''
|'''''3 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Dagger (x2)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|-style="color: blue"
|'''Dwarven made Dagger (x2)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Quiver'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Quarrels (20)'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Dry Rations (3 days)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Waterskin'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Thieves Picks'''
|'''''1 lb'''''
|-
|'''Fine Quality Deck of Playing Cards'''
|'''''1/2 Ounce'''''
|-
|'''Total'''
|'''''19.5 lbs'''''
|-
|}

== Equipment Stored in Rooms ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|-'''Numerous Changes of Clothing'''

== Languages ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Common'''
|-
|'''Vox Mercanti'''
|-
|'''Thieves' Cant'''
|-
|}

== Background ==
[[File:ZZDarithe2L.jpg]]

She stared at her reflection in the mirror for a long time. The red hair would take some getting used to. The shorn locks of her previously long tresses less so, as that frequently just got in the way of her skills. No sign of her Da's dark hair now, the only part she truly inherited from him. Just as the freckles across her pale features came from her mother. Her hands were near as red as the hair stained from the dye. Somehow that seemed apt. She scrubbed the dye from her hands in the washbasin. At least that stain could be washed away...

Darithe Thorne was her name now. Once she had been Meav Delte, the daughter of a blacksmith in the town of Belies-ar-Weil, located mid-way along the coast of Athervon between Avis Inia, the seat of the Kingdom, to the North, and Avis Armois, the oldest and most far-flung of the Kingdom’s major cities, to the South. Her father was as dumb as the anvil he pounded everyday, but he was kind and had a ready smile, and was gentle with his young daughters Meav and her sister Vari. He did his best to support his two daughters on what little income he could make from shoeing horses and hammering out crude nails to build the rickety buildings in this poor section of town.

Their mother passed from a fever when Vari was five. Meav was three years older and did the best she could for her Da and young sister. She took care of them and when money was short she did what she had to for a few more coins to add to their larder. She helped in the smithy as much as she could and took care of delivering special orders for her Da. She found with a pretty smile she would sometimes even get tips, not much, but everything helped. She was poor but she was bright. She quickly picked up some smithing skills from her father and taught herself to read and write, which was rare for the people from her part of town.

Belis-ar-Weil was neither particularly large nor particularly small; but it held a strategic location at the mouth of the Aumine river, which carried the riches of the Kingdom’s interior to the sea, where it was then sent to either Avis Inia or Avis Armois for final destinations. Due to this vast amount of traffic in lucrative goods, the town had more than its fair share of criminal element, intent on skimming some of the proceeds for themselves. While there were a number of gangs that operated around the town, all paid their respects to the notorious Five Points Brotherhood. The Brotherhood was a huge network of Thieves that had bases over nearly the entire Kingdom – at least, that was what was said. Based out of the Capitol, The Brotherhood controlled virtually all the illegal traffic flowing on the land route between Avis Inia and Tras Veniri, and had a heavy hand in distribution to points beyond inside of Athervon. No one of sane mind crossed The Brotherhood – their operatives and informants were everywhere, and they did not hesitate to deal with problems that threatened their profitable position.

Meav had never planned to join them. To the contrary, she had always steered clear of the young gangs of new recruits, and ignored their catcalls, offers, and sometimes threats as she made her deliveries in town – that she could deal with. What really made her pick up her pace was the way one of the older members – a street captain known as Dregs – looked at her. He didn’t seem to be looking at the pretty young woman with leering eyes and lustful sneers like the others. No, Dregs always seemed to be assessing whether she might be useful to him, whether she could be an asset to his operation. His cold gaze watched her every time she passed, but he never said a thing – just gave a slight touch to his cap in greeting after their eyes met, and then turned back to his business.

She choked back a laugh thinking about it now.

She managed to keep things on an even keel until her 17th year. That was the year her Da passed – walking home at night after the neighborhood innkeeper had rewarded him with a few pints for some emergency repairs to some of his stable equipment, he must’ve never seen the horseman, riding at a full gallop along the dark road. She ran out at the sounds and screams to see him lying in the mud, blood beginning to form a small pool around him. The rider never stopped, disappearing into the darkness.

After Da was in the ground, she assessed the situation, and realized something had to give. She didn't see herself or Vari swinging a hammer to make a living. She retched at the thought of some of the things women did for coin near the docks – she would die before that became her fate. Then the faces of the gang captains came to her – that cold gaze, assessing her. Perhaps she could be of use to them.

She had no idea how to initiate a conversation about this, but her mind was made up. She walked directly up to Dregs through the crowd of his young proteges, the blood that was pounding in her ears drowning out their infantile suggestions and insults.

“I need some work.” She blurted it out without even knowing it. She held her breath waiting for him to speak.

For a moment, he didn’t – just looked at her again with the same cold eyes.

Finally, he spoke. “B’out time. Let’s get ya to Fergasse, see what he has fer ya.” His voice was rough, thin, fitting his grizzled appearance perfectly. She realized it was the first time she had ever heard it.

Fergasse was the local Master of The Brotherhood, overseeing their operations in the town. If he had ever been a working thief, there was no way to tell now – he was a very fat man, who spent more time overseeing account books than picking pockets. But he was the ordained boss for The Brotherhood in town, and he did not need to worry about his girth – there were plenty of fit gang members who would take care of any of Fergasse’s problems.

Dregs brought her to a warehouse by the docks, one she had always been warned to stay away from by Ma & Da. She had to pass by room after room of intimidating looking men, and one even patted her down and felt her up making sure she didn’t have a weapon. Finally she was in Fergasse’s “office”, a large room filled with boxes, bags, sacks, barrels, crates, chests, and every manner of thing used to transport goods – as well as piles and piles of leather-bound books: ship’s journals, logs, account books, inventory scrolls. Fergasse supervised a small army of men moving things in and out while another army was copying and modifying books, writing so fast they were sweating. Fergasse’s eye flicked to her after Dreg was able to whisper something in his ear, and he spat something back she didn’t hear, before he turned back to conducting the mayhem in the room.

Dreg took her back to her place and told her how it would work. She would start just doing "special deliveries" and watching for the town guard who's eyes were easily distracted by a lithe darkhaired lass. It was easy work for the most part, and she was good at it – folks knew her Da was gone, and men circled her like buzzards if she gave them the chance, wanting to be there when her finances or her will finally broke.

But those tasks weren't enough to support her and Vari; soon, she was pestering Dreg for bigger opportunity. Happy with her performance, he graduated her to more advanced work for the guild.

She took to the tasks like a bird to the air. It excited her. It gave her freedom from the drudgery of the smithy. And the coins to be had (earned?) were greater than she had ever seen. Though just eighteen by then, she quickly became a rising star in the guild. Soon enough, Dregs re-introduced her to Fergasse at the Bosses’ request. Fergasse wanted to have a look at this new recruit who was making him so much money.

As Fergasse spoke about the impression she had made, and that if she played her cards right she could have a bright future in The Brotherhood, she noticed a young man lounging back on a pile of grain sacks, staring at her with dark, hooded eyes. She had seen that stare before, but she was not that person anymore. She ignored the look, her lip curling into a mild sneer to express her disinterest.

After the meeting was over, she asked Dregs about the man. “Eh? On the sacks? Ach, thas Dany – Fergasse’s boyo. What ye’want wit him? Oh ya? Fancy’s ya does he? Well, ya be careful lass – that boyo’s got more problems than the Emperor of Jhon, he does – and he’ll make’em your problems if ya let ‘im. Best steer clear of ‘im, stay focused on yer work. He’s trouble if you like ‘im – but he’s also trouble if ya don’t, if ya take my meaning. Don’t make Fergasse choose between yas.”

She learned from others that Dany was an addict – he smoked the seeds from the Jhonian mazak plant, which generated the dark circles around his eyes and the vacant stare.

She heeded Dregs advice and made every attempt to avoid Dany. But to her dismay, Dany had other ideas. Apparently infatuated by her, he began hanging out in her neighborhood, repeatedly offering to buy her dinner, drinks, or to join him in a harmless smoke. She rebuffed him – gently, carefully, always saying that she had something to get done for his father. More than once she had to signal Dregs to intercept them and provide an escape. She began to stay away from the house more – Vari had enough money and was getting old enough to take care of herself and most of the chores at home while Meav earned their keep.

She used the time to hone her skills every day and the exciting life on the edge became like a drug to her. What started as a tactic to avoid Dany soon became a need to spend more and more time finding ways to complete the jobs allotted to her in the most impressive way possible. Vari was left to fend for herself as Meav was gone more and more, but Meav told herself Vari would have to learn to manage the home at some point, which assuaged her guilt at not being home with her sister.

One night, exhausted from nearly two solid days of casing a new ship that had arrived, she came home and found Vari in her bed – with Dany lying next to her. From the look of it, they had apparently been celebrating for days – there were clothes and half-eaten meals everywhere. The bitter-sweet smell of mazak hit her nostrils, and she noticed several pipes were strewn about, full of the dark tarry residue the drug leaves.

Meav was incensed – Vari had ruined everything! Now what was she going to do?

She carefully stepped over Dany and shook Vari, whispering for her to get up. But the girl remained prone, motionless. She shook harder, finally pulling her hard and flipping her over – to recoil in horror as the wide, sightless eyes of her sister stared back at her from dark hooded sockets, the open lips tinged blue.

Meav stumbled back against the wall, her heart pounding. She couldn’t think. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

She started as Dany mumbled something and rolled over onto one arm, lifting himself up on his elbow. His heavy-lidded eyes revealed he was still in the throes of the drug. He reached out to Vari, touching the dead girls arm. A minute later, a giggle erupted from him.

“I told…told you. You got to…to work up to…to it. Can’t be doing what I do. Sil…silly…girl.”

He flopped down, finally noticing Meav. “Oh…hey. You’re here. That’s great – I really was interested in you more anyway.” His eyes fluttered closed again, and he resumed gently snoring.

That day Meav picked up her Da's hammer for the last time in doing so ended her time in the guild, and guildmaster's son's life.

She looked once more in the mirror. Meav was dead, and Darithe reborn from her ashes. A dark phoenix for sure. She gathered her meager belongs and wrapped herself in her father oversized cloak and started outside. She glanced once more back at the smithy and then was gone. She walked on leaving the past behind.

A new town then, one where she is unknown. A place to disappear. The further from The Brotherhood, the better. Getting on a ship was too dangerous – The Brotherhood controlled the river and sea trade, she would be seen and her suspicious departure noted, if not prevented altogether. No, she had to leave by land.

In the dark of night, she stole down the South Road, which followed the coast all the way to Avis Armois. Far from the Capitol, perhaps there she could shake pursuit long enough to come up with a more long-term plan. The Mire Queen now beckoned to her which seemed appropriate somehow having become mired herself. As she walked she whispered a soft prayer (to whom she did not know) for forgiveness. But in her heart she knew forgiveness was reserved for those who deserved it.

The best steel doesn't always shine the brightest. Her da had taught her that and she thought of him as she walked south towards Avis Armois, the greatcloak wrapped around her due to the cool of the morn. She could still faintly smell him on it and those smells were comforting, almost as if he still embraced her in the folds of that big cloak. She breathed them in and smiled thinking of him, the pungent smell of the corrosive oils he used to clean his tools were there, and the pleasant smokey aroma of the coals of his forge still clung to the threads, and the musky smell of sweat after a good hard day of honest... She stopped abruptly and bit her lower lip. She sighed, the past is written. She could not change it no matter how much she wished to. But the future is a blank page. And that she could write.

She spotted a small family going in the opposite direction approaching, a young man, his pretty wife and two small girls tugging at their parent's cloaks. She smiled and nodded to them as their paths crossed. Her mind calling back memories of her own youth and her sister Vari. She turned and caught back up to the family offering them most of her fruit. It wouldn't last long and she knew she couldn't eat it all before it went bad. She kept a stem of grapes for herself and waved to them as they continued their journey farther away from her. She returned to the path she had chosen and walked on alone.

Landsoftheblacksea:Main Page/players/danithe thorne

2021-01-21T00:25:12Z

Darithe: /* Equipment */

[[ Landsoftheblacksea:Main_Page#Player_Characters | '''Return to the Main Page''']]

A woman running from her past and perhaps seeking redemption.

[[File:ZZDarithe2C.jpg | thumb]]

== Basics ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Character Name !! Player Name !! Race !! Class !! Alignment !! AC !! Experience !! Hit Points
|-
| Darithe Thorne (Meav Delte) || Desconocida || Human || Thief 3 || Chaotic Good || 7 (With Dex Adj) || 1250|| 11
|-
|}

== Physical ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Age !! Height !! Weight !! Eye Colour !! Hair Colour
|-
| 19 || 5'6" || 110 lbs || Light Green || Black
|}

== Stats ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:left"
|-
| Strength || '''11''' || ''Wt. Allowance: 40#; Max Press: 115#; Open Doors: 6; Bend Bars: 2%''
|-
| Dexterity || '''17''' || ''+2 React. Adj; +2 Missile Att. Adj.; -3 Def. Adj.''
|-
| Constitution || '''12''' || ''Sys. Shock: 80%; Res. Surv: 85%''
|-
| Intelligence || '''14''' || ''#Lang: 4''
|-
| Wisdom || '''10''' ||
|-
| Charisma || '''16''' || ''Mx. Hench: 8; Loy. Base: +4; Reac. Adj.: +5''
|-
|}

+10% XP Bonus

== Saving Throws ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Paralyzation/Poison/Death Magic !! Rod, Staff or Wand !! Petrification or Plymorph !! Breath Weapon !! Spell
|-
|| 13 || 14 || 13 || 15 || 12
|}
== Weapon Proficiencies ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Dagger'''
|-
|'''Hand Crossbow'''
|-
|}
== Nonweapon Proficiencies ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Blacksmithing (11)'''
|-
|'''Cooking (14)'''
|-
|'''Healing (8)'''
|-
|'''Herbalism (12)'''
|-
|'''Swimming (11)'''
|-
|'''Tumbling (17)'''
|-
|}

== Thieves Abilities ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
| '''Pick Pockets''' || 15% + 5% (DEX) + 5% (no armor) =25% ||
|-
| '''Open Locks''' || 30% + 10% (DEX) = 50% ||
|-
| '''Find/Remove Traps''' || 40% ||
|-
| '''Move Silently''' || 30% + 5% (DEX) + 10% (no armor) = 45% || Movement reduced to 1/3
|-
| '''Hide in Shadows''' || 35% + 5% (DEX) + 5% (no armor) = 45% ||
|-
| '''Detect Noise''' || 18% ||
|-
| '''Climb Walls''' || 60% + 10% (no armor) = 70% ||
|-
| '''Read Languages''' || 2% ||
|-
|}

== Encumbrance ==
{| class="wikitable"
|'''Unencumbered'''
|'''''0-40'''''
|-
|'''Light'''
|'''''41-58'''''
|-
|'''Moderate'''
|'''''59-76'''''
|-
|'''Heavy'''
|'''''77-96'''''
|-
|'''Severe'''
|'''''97-110'''''
|-
|}
== Equipment ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Clothing'''
|'''''5 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Backpack'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Small pouch'''
|'''''0.5 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Hand Crossbow'''
|'''''3 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Dagger (x2)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|-style="color: blue"
|'''Dwarven made Dagger (x2)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Quiver'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Quarrels (20)'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Dry Rations (3 days)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Waterskin'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Thieves Picks'''
|'''''1 lb'''''
|-
|'''Fine Quality Deck of Playing Cards'''
|'''''1/2 Ounce'''''
|-
|'''Total'''
|'''''19.5 lbs'''''
|-
|}

== Languages ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Common'''
|-
|'''Vox Mercanti'''
|-
|'''Thieves' Cant'''
|-
|}

== Background ==
[[File:ZZDarithe2L.jpg]]

She stared at her reflection in the mirror for a long time. The red hair would take some getting used to. The shorn locks of her previously long tresses less so, as that frequently just got in the way of her skills. No sign of her Da's dark hair now, the only part she truly inherited from him. Just as the freckles across her pale features came from her mother. Her hands were near as red as the hair stained from the dye. Somehow that seemed apt. She scrubbed the dye from her hands in the washbasin. At least that stain could be washed away...

Darithe Thorne was her name now. Once she had been Meav Delte, the daughter of a blacksmith in the town of Belies-ar-Weil, located mid-way along the coast of Athervon between Avis Inia, the seat of the Kingdom, to the North, and Avis Armois, the oldest and most far-flung of the Kingdom’s major cities, to the South. Her father was as dumb as the anvil he pounded everyday, but he was kind and had a ready smile, and was gentle with his young daughters Meav and her sister Vari. He did his best to support his two daughters on what little income he could make from shoeing horses and hammering out crude nails to build the rickety buildings in this poor section of town.

Their mother passed from a fever when Vari was five. Meav was three years older and did the best she could for her Da and young sister. She took care of them and when money was short she did what she had to for a few more coins to add to their larder. She helped in the smithy as much as she could and took care of delivering special orders for her Da. She found with a pretty smile she would sometimes even get tips, not much, but everything helped. She was poor but she was bright. She quickly picked up some smithing skills from her father and taught herself to read and write, which was rare for the people from her part of town.

Belis-ar-Weil was neither particularly large nor particularly small; but it held a strategic location at the mouth of the Aumine river, which carried the riches of the Kingdom’s interior to the sea, where it was then sent to either Avis Inia or Avis Armois for final destinations. Due to this vast amount of traffic in lucrative goods, the town had more than its fair share of criminal element, intent on skimming some of the proceeds for themselves. While there were a number of gangs that operated around the town, all paid their respects to the notorious Five Points Brotherhood. The Brotherhood was a huge network of Thieves that had bases over nearly the entire Kingdom – at least, that was what was said. Based out of the Capitol, The Brotherhood controlled virtually all the illegal traffic flowing on the land route between Avis Inia and Tras Veniri, and had a heavy hand in distribution to points beyond inside of Athervon. No one of sane mind crossed The Brotherhood – their operatives and informants were everywhere, and they did not hesitate to deal with problems that threatened their profitable position.

Meav had never planned to join them. To the contrary, she had always steered clear of the young gangs of new recruits, and ignored their catcalls, offers, and sometimes threats as she made her deliveries in town – that she could deal with. What really made her pick up her pace was the way one of the older members – a street captain known as Dregs – looked at her. He didn’t seem to be looking at the pretty young woman with leering eyes and lustful sneers like the others. No, Dregs always seemed to be assessing whether she might be useful to him, whether she could be an asset to his operation. His cold gaze watched her every time she passed, but he never said a thing – just gave a slight touch to his cap in greeting after their eyes met, and then turned back to his business.

She choked back a laugh thinking about it now.

She managed to keep things on an even keel until her 17th year. That was the year her Da passed – walking home at night after the neighborhood innkeeper had rewarded him with a few pints for some emergency repairs to some of his stable equipment, he must’ve never seen the horseman, riding at a full gallop along the dark road. She ran out at the sounds and screams to see him lying in the mud, blood beginning to form a small pool around him. The rider never stopped, disappearing into the darkness.

After Da was in the ground, she assessed the situation, and realized something had to give. She didn't see herself or Vari swinging a hammer to make a living. She retched at the thought of some of the things women did for coin near the docks – she would die before that became her fate. Then the faces of the gang captains came to her – that cold gaze, assessing her. Perhaps she could be of use to them.

She had no idea how to initiate a conversation about this, but her mind was made up. She walked directly up to Dregs through the crowd of his young proteges, the blood that was pounding in her ears drowning out their infantile suggestions and insults.

“I need some work.” She blurted it out without even knowing it. She held her breath waiting for him to speak.

For a moment, he didn’t – just looked at her again with the same cold eyes.

Finally, he spoke. “B’out time. Let’s get ya to Fergasse, see what he has fer ya.” His voice was rough, thin, fitting his grizzled appearance perfectly. She realized it was the first time she had ever heard it.

Fergasse was the local Master of The Brotherhood, overseeing their operations in the town. If he had ever been a working thief, there was no way to tell now – he was a very fat man, who spent more time overseeing account books than picking pockets. But he was the ordained boss for The Brotherhood in town, and he did not need to worry about his girth – there were plenty of fit gang members who would take care of any of Fergasse’s problems.

Dregs brought her to a warehouse by the docks, one she had always been warned to stay away from by Ma & Da. She had to pass by room after room of intimidating looking men, and one even patted her down and felt her up making sure she didn’t have a weapon. Finally she was in Fergasse’s “office”, a large room filled with boxes, bags, sacks, barrels, crates, chests, and every manner of thing used to transport goods – as well as piles and piles of leather-bound books: ship’s journals, logs, account books, inventory scrolls. Fergasse supervised a small army of men moving things in and out while another army was copying and modifying books, writing so fast they were sweating. Fergasse’s eye flicked to her after Dreg was able to whisper something in his ear, and he spat something back she didn’t hear, before he turned back to conducting the mayhem in the room.

Dreg took her back to her place and told her how it would work. She would start just doing "special deliveries" and watching for the town guard who's eyes were easily distracted by a lithe darkhaired lass. It was easy work for the most part, and she was good at it – folks knew her Da was gone, and men circled her like buzzards if she gave them the chance, wanting to be there when her finances or her will finally broke.

But those tasks weren't enough to support her and Vari; soon, she was pestering Dreg for bigger opportunity. Happy with her performance, he graduated her to more advanced work for the guild.

She took to the tasks like a bird to the air. It excited her. It gave her freedom from the drudgery of the smithy. And the coins to be had (earned?) were greater than she had ever seen. Though just eighteen by then, she quickly became a rising star in the guild. Soon enough, Dregs re-introduced her to Fergasse at the Bosses’ request. Fergasse wanted to have a look at this new recruit who was making him so much money.

As Fergasse spoke about the impression she had made, and that if she played her cards right she could have a bright future in The Brotherhood, she noticed a young man lounging back on a pile of grain sacks, staring at her with dark, hooded eyes. She had seen that stare before, but she was not that person anymore. She ignored the look, her lip curling into a mild sneer to express her disinterest.

After the meeting was over, she asked Dregs about the man. “Eh? On the sacks? Ach, thas Dany – Fergasse’s boyo. What ye’want wit him? Oh ya? Fancy’s ya does he? Well, ya be careful lass – that boyo’s got more problems than the Emperor of Jhon, he does – and he’ll make’em your problems if ya let ‘im. Best steer clear of ‘im, stay focused on yer work. He’s trouble if you like ‘im – but he’s also trouble if ya don’t, if ya take my meaning. Don’t make Fergasse choose between yas.”

She learned from others that Dany was an addict – he smoked the seeds from the Jhonian mazak plant, which generated the dark circles around his eyes and the vacant stare.

She heeded Dregs advice and made every attempt to avoid Dany. But to her dismay, Dany had other ideas. Apparently infatuated by her, he began hanging out in her neighborhood, repeatedly offering to buy her dinner, drinks, or to join him in a harmless smoke. She rebuffed him – gently, carefully, always saying that she had something to get done for his father. More than once she had to signal Dregs to intercept them and provide an escape. She began to stay away from the house more – Vari had enough money and was getting old enough to take care of herself and most of the chores at home while Meav earned their keep.

She used the time to hone her skills every day and the exciting life on the edge became like a drug to her. What started as a tactic to avoid Dany soon became a need to spend more and more time finding ways to complete the jobs allotted to her in the most impressive way possible. Vari was left to fend for herself as Meav was gone more and more, but Meav told herself Vari would have to learn to manage the home at some point, which assuaged her guilt at not being home with her sister.

One night, exhausted from nearly two solid days of casing a new ship that had arrived, she came home and found Vari in her bed – with Dany lying next to her. From the look of it, they had apparently been celebrating for days – there were clothes and half-eaten meals everywhere. The bitter-sweet smell of mazak hit her nostrils, and she noticed several pipes were strewn about, full of the dark tarry residue the drug leaves.

Meav was incensed – Vari had ruined everything! Now what was she going to do?

She carefully stepped over Dany and shook Vari, whispering for her to get up. But the girl remained prone, motionless. She shook harder, finally pulling her hard and flipping her over – to recoil in horror as the wide, sightless eyes of her sister stared back at her from dark hooded sockets, the open lips tinged blue.

Meav stumbled back against the wall, her heart pounding. She couldn’t think. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

She started as Dany mumbled something and rolled over onto one arm, lifting himself up on his elbow. His heavy-lidded eyes revealed he was still in the throes of the drug. He reached out to Vari, touching the dead girls arm. A minute later, a giggle erupted from him.

“I told…told you. You got to…to work up to…to it. Can’t be doing what I do. Sil…silly…girl.”

He flopped down, finally noticing Meav. “Oh…hey. You’re here. That’s great – I really was interested in you more anyway.” His eyes fluttered closed again, and he resumed gently snoring.

That day Meav picked up her Da's hammer for the last time in doing so ended her time in the guild, and guildmaster's son's life.

She looked once more in the mirror. Meav was dead, and Darithe reborn from her ashes. A dark phoenix for sure. She gathered her meager belongs and wrapped herself in her father oversized cloak and started outside. She glanced once more back at the smithy and then was gone. She walked on leaving the past behind.

A new town then, one where she is unknown. A place to disappear. The further from The Brotherhood, the better. Getting on a ship was too dangerous – The Brotherhood controlled the river and sea trade, she would be seen and her suspicious departure noted, if not prevented altogether. No, she had to leave by land.

In the dark of night, she stole down the South Road, which followed the coast all the way to Avis Armois. Far from the Capitol, perhaps there she could shake pursuit long enough to come up with a more long-term plan. The Mire Queen now beckoned to her which seemed appropriate somehow having become mired herself. As she walked she whispered a soft prayer (to whom she did not know) for forgiveness. But in her heart she knew forgiveness was reserved for those who deserved it.

The best steel doesn't always shine the brightest. Her da had taught her that and she thought of him as she walked south towards Avis Armois, the greatcloak wrapped around her due to the cool of the morn. She could still faintly smell him on it and those smells were comforting, almost as if he still embraced her in the folds of that big cloak. She breathed them in and smiled thinking of him, the pungent smell of the corrosive oils he used to clean his tools were there, and the pleasant smokey aroma of the coals of his forge still clung to the threads, and the musky smell of sweat after a good hard day of honest... She stopped abruptly and bit her lower lip. She sighed, the past is written. She could not change it no matter how much she wished to. But the future is a blank page. And that she could write.

She spotted a small family going in the opposite direction approaching, a young man, his pretty wife and two small girls tugging at their parent's cloaks. She smiled and nodded to them as their paths crossed. Her mind calling back memories of her own youth and her sister Vari. She turned and caught back up to the family offering them most of her fruit. It wouldn't last long and she knew she couldn't eat it all before it went bad. She kept a stem of grapes for herself and waved to them as they continued their journey farther away from her. She returned to the path she had chosen and walked on alone.

Landsoftheblacksea:Main Page/players/danithe thorne

2021-01-02T19:46:52Z

Darithe: /* Thieves Abilities */

[[ Landsoftheblacksea:Main_Page#Player_Characters | '''Return to the Main Page''']]

A woman running from her past and perhaps seeking redemption.

[[File:ZZDarithe2C.jpg | thumb]]

== Basics ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Character Name !! Player Name !! Race !! Class !! Alignment !! AC !! Experience !! Hit Points
|-
| Darithe Thorne (Meav Delte) || Desconocida || Human || Thief 3 || Chaotic Good || 7 (With Dex Adj) || 1250|| 11
|-
|}

== Physical ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Age !! Height !! Weight !! Eye Colour !! Hair Colour
|-
| 19 || 5'6" || 110 lbs || Light Green || Black
|}

== Stats ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:left"
|-
| Strength || '''11''' || ''Wt. Allowance: 40#; Max Press: 115#; Open Doors: 6; Bend Bars: 2%''
|-
| Dexterity || '''17''' || ''+2 React. Adj; +2 Missile Att. Adj.; -3 Def. Adj.''
|-
| Constitution || '''12''' || ''Sys. Shock: 80%; Res. Surv: 85%''
|-
| Intelligence || '''14''' || ''#Lang: 4''
|-
| Wisdom || '''10''' ||
|-
| Charisma || '''16''' || ''Mx. Hench: 8; Loy. Base: +4; Reac. Adj.: +5''
|-
|}

+10% XP Bonus

== Saving Throws ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Paralyzation/Poison/Death Magic !! Rod, Staff or Wand !! Petrification or Plymorph !! Breath Weapon !! Spell
|-
|| 13 || 14 || 13 || 15 || 12
|}
== Weapon Proficiencies ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Dagger'''
|-
|'''Hand Crossbow'''
|-
|}
== Nonweapon Proficiencies ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Blacksmithing (11)'''
|-
|'''Cooking (14)'''
|-
|'''Healing (8)'''
|-
|'''Herbalism (12)'''
|-
|'''Swimming (11)'''
|-
|'''Tumbling (17)'''
|-
|}

== Thieves Abilities ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
| '''Pick Pockets''' || 15% + 5% (DEX) + 5% (no armor) =25% ||
|-
| '''Open Locks''' || 30% + 10% (DEX) = 50% ||
|-
| '''Find/Remove Traps''' || 40% ||
|-
| '''Move Silently''' || 30% + 5% (DEX) + 10% (no armor) = 45% || Movement reduced to 1/3
|-
| '''Hide in Shadows''' || 35% + 5% (DEX) + 5% (no armor) = 45% ||
|-
| '''Detect Noise''' || 18% ||
|-
| '''Climb Walls''' || 60% + 10% (no armor) = 70% ||
|-
| '''Read Languages''' || 2% ||
|-
|}

== Encumbrance ==
{| class="wikitable"
|'''Unencumbered'''
|'''''0-40'''''
|-
|'''Light'''
|'''''41-58'''''
|-
|'''Moderate'''
|'''''59-76'''''
|-
|'''Heavy'''
|'''''77-96'''''
|-
|'''Severe'''
|'''''97-110'''''
|-
|}
== Equipment ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Clothing'''
|'''''5 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Backpack'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Small pouch'''
|'''''0.5 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Hand Crossbow'''
|'''''3 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Dagger (x2)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|-style="color: blue"
|'''Dwarven made Dagger (x2)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Quiver'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Quarrels (20)'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Dry Rations (3 days)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Waterskin'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Thieves Picks'''
|'''''1 lb'''''
|-
|'''Total'''
|'''''19.5 lbs'''''
|-
|}

== Languages ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Common'''
|-
|'''Vox Mercanti'''
|-
|'''Thieves' Cant'''
|-
|}

== Background ==
[[File:ZZDarithe2L.jpg]]

She stared at her reflection in the mirror for a long time. The red hair would take some getting used to. The shorn locks of her previously long tresses less so, as that frequently just got in the way of her skills. No sign of her Da's dark hair now, the only part she truly inherited from him. Just as the freckles across her pale features came from her mother. Her hands were near as red as the hair stained from the dye. Somehow that seemed apt. She scrubbed the dye from her hands in the washbasin. At least that stain could be washed away...

Darithe Thorne was her name now. Once she had been Meav Delte, the daughter of a blacksmith in the town of Belies-ar-Weil, located mid-way along the coast of Athervon between Avis Inia, the seat of the Kingdom, to the North, and Avis Armois, the oldest and most far-flung of the Kingdom’s major cities, to the South. Her father was as dumb as the anvil he pounded everyday, but he was kind and had a ready smile, and was gentle with his young daughters Meav and her sister Vari. He did his best to support his two daughters on what little income he could make from shoeing horses and hammering out crude nails to build the rickety buildings in this poor section of town.

Their mother passed from a fever when Vari was five. Meav was three years older and did the best she could for her Da and young sister. She took care of them and when money was short she did what she had to for a few more coins to add to their larder. She helped in the smithy as much as she could and took care of delivering special orders for her Da. She found with a pretty smile she would sometimes even get tips, not much, but everything helped. She was poor but she was bright. She quickly picked up some smithing skills from her father and taught herself to read and write, which was rare for the people from her part of town.

Belis-ar-Weil was neither particularly large nor particularly small; but it held a strategic location at the mouth of the Aumine river, which carried the riches of the Kingdom’s interior to the sea, where it was then sent to either Avis Inia or Avis Armois for final destinations. Due to this vast amount of traffic in lucrative goods, the town had more than its fair share of criminal element, intent on skimming some of the proceeds for themselves. While there were a number of gangs that operated around the town, all paid their respects to the notorious Five Points Brotherhood. The Brotherhood was a huge network of Thieves that had bases over nearly the entire Kingdom – at least, that was what was said. Based out of the Capitol, The Brotherhood controlled virtually all the illegal traffic flowing on the land route between Avis Inia and Tras Veniri, and had a heavy hand in distribution to points beyond inside of Athervon. No one of sane mind crossed The Brotherhood – their operatives and informants were everywhere, and they did not hesitate to deal with problems that threatened their profitable position.

Meav had never planned to join them. To the contrary, she had always steered clear of the young gangs of new recruits, and ignored their catcalls, offers, and sometimes threats as she made her deliveries in town – that she could deal with. What really made her pick up her pace was the way one of the older members – a street captain known as Dregs – looked at her. He didn’t seem to be looking at the pretty young woman with leering eyes and lustful sneers like the others. No, Dregs always seemed to be assessing whether she might be useful to him, whether she could be an asset to his operation. His cold gaze watched her every time she passed, but he never said a thing – just gave a slight touch to his cap in greeting after their eyes met, and then turned back to his business.

She choked back a laugh thinking about it now.

She managed to keep things on an even keel until her 17th year. That was the year her Da passed – walking home at night after the neighborhood innkeeper had rewarded him with a few pints for some emergency repairs to some of his stable equipment, he must’ve never seen the horseman, riding at a full gallop along the dark road. She ran out at the sounds and screams to see him lying in the mud, blood beginning to form a small pool around him. The rider never stopped, disappearing into the darkness.

After Da was in the ground, she assessed the situation, and realized something had to give. She didn't see herself or Vari swinging a hammer to make a living. She retched at the thought of some of the things women did for coin near the docks – she would die before that became her fate. Then the faces of the gang captains came to her – that cold gaze, assessing her. Perhaps she could be of use to them.

She had no idea how to initiate a conversation about this, but her mind was made up. She walked directly up to Dregs through the crowd of his young proteges, the blood that was pounding in her ears drowning out their infantile suggestions and insults.

“I need some work.” She blurted it out without even knowing it. She held her breath waiting for him to speak.

For a moment, he didn’t – just looked at her again with the same cold eyes.

Finally, he spoke. “B’out time. Let’s get ya to Fergasse, see what he has fer ya.” His voice was rough, thin, fitting his grizzled appearance perfectly. She realized it was the first time she had ever heard it.

Fergasse was the local Master of The Brotherhood, overseeing their operations in the town. If he had ever been a working thief, there was no way to tell now – he was a very fat man, who spent more time overseeing account books than picking pockets. But he was the ordained boss for The Brotherhood in town, and he did not need to worry about his girth – there were plenty of fit gang members who would take care of any of Fergasse’s problems.

Dregs brought her to a warehouse by the docks, one she had always been warned to stay away from by Ma & Da. She had to pass by room after room of intimidating looking men, and one even patted her down and felt her up making sure she didn’t have a weapon. Finally she was in Fergasse’s “office”, a large room filled with boxes, bags, sacks, barrels, crates, chests, and every manner of thing used to transport goods – as well as piles and piles of leather-bound books: ship’s journals, logs, account books, inventory scrolls. Fergasse supervised a small army of men moving things in and out while another army was copying and modifying books, writing so fast they were sweating. Fergasse’s eye flicked to her after Dreg was able to whisper something in his ear, and he spat something back she didn’t hear, before he turned back to conducting the mayhem in the room.

Dreg took her back to her place and told her how it would work. She would start just doing "special deliveries" and watching for the town guard who's eyes were easily distracted by a lithe darkhaired lass. It was easy work for the most part, and she was good at it – folks knew her Da was gone, and men circled her like buzzards if she gave them the chance, wanting to be there when her finances or her will finally broke.

But those tasks weren't enough to support her and Vari; soon, she was pestering Dreg for bigger opportunity. Happy with her performance, he graduated her to more advanced work for the guild.

She took to the tasks like a bird to the air. It excited her. It gave her freedom from the drudgery of the smithy. And the coins to be had (earned?) were greater than she had ever seen. Though just eighteen by then, she quickly became a rising star in the guild. Soon enough, Dregs re-introduced her to Fergasse at the Bosses’ request. Fergasse wanted to have a look at this new recruit who was making him so much money.

As Fergasse spoke about the impression she had made, and that if she played her cards right she could have a bright future in The Brotherhood, she noticed a young man lounging back on a pile of grain sacks, staring at her with dark, hooded eyes. She had seen that stare before, but she was not that person anymore. She ignored the look, her lip curling into a mild sneer to express her disinterest.

After the meeting was over, she asked Dregs about the man. “Eh? On the sacks? Ach, thas Dany – Fergasse’s boyo. What ye’want wit him? Oh ya? Fancy’s ya does he? Well, ya be careful lass – that boyo’s got more problems than the Emperor of Jhon, he does – and he’ll make’em your problems if ya let ‘im. Best steer clear of ‘im, stay focused on yer work. He’s trouble if you like ‘im – but he’s also trouble if ya don’t, if ya take my meaning. Don’t make Fergasse choose between yas.”

She learned from others that Dany was an addict – he smoked the seeds from the Jhonian mazak plant, which generated the dark circles around his eyes and the vacant stare.

She heeded Dregs advice and made every attempt to avoid Dany. But to her dismay, Dany had other ideas. Apparently infatuated by her, he began hanging out in her neighborhood, repeatedly offering to buy her dinner, drinks, or to join him in a harmless smoke. She rebuffed him – gently, carefully, always saying that she had something to get done for his father. More than once she had to signal Dregs to intercept them and provide an escape. She began to stay away from the house more – Vari had enough money and was getting old enough to take care of herself and most of the chores at home while Meav earned their keep.

She used the time to hone her skills every day and the exciting life on the edge became like a drug to her. What started as a tactic to avoid Dany soon became a need to spend more and more time finding ways to complete the jobs allotted to her in the most impressive way possible. Vari was left to fend for herself as Meav was gone more and more, but Meav told herself Vari would have to learn to manage the home at some point, which assuaged her guilt at not being home with her sister.

One night, exhausted from nearly two solid days of casing a new ship that had arrived, she came home and found Vari in her bed – with Dany lying next to her. From the look of it, they had apparently been celebrating for days – there were clothes and half-eaten meals everywhere. The bitter-sweet smell of mazak hit her nostrils, and she noticed several pipes were strewn about, full of the dark tarry residue the drug leaves.

Meav was incensed – Vari had ruined everything! Now what was she going to do?

She carefully stepped over Dany and shook Vari, whispering for her to get up. But the girl remained prone, motionless. She shook harder, finally pulling her hard and flipping her over – to recoil in horror as the wide, sightless eyes of her sister stared back at her from dark hooded sockets, the open lips tinged blue.

Meav stumbled back against the wall, her heart pounding. She couldn’t think. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

She started as Dany mumbled something and rolled over onto one arm, lifting himself up on his elbow. His heavy-lidded eyes revealed he was still in the throes of the drug. He reached out to Vari, touching the dead girls arm. A minute later, a giggle erupted from him.

“I told…told you. You got to…to work up to…to it. Can’t be doing what I do. Sil…silly…girl.”

He flopped down, finally noticing Meav. “Oh…hey. You’re here. That’s great – I really was interested in you more anyway.” His eyes fluttered closed again, and he resumed gently snoring.

That day Meav picked up her Da's hammer for the last time in doing so ended her time in the guild, and guildmaster's son's life.

She looked once more in the mirror. Meav was dead, and Darithe reborn from her ashes. A dark phoenix for sure. She gathered her meager belongs and wrapped herself in her father oversized cloak and started outside. She glanced once more back at the smithy and then was gone. She walked on leaving the past behind.

A new town then, one where she is unknown. A place to disappear. The further from The Brotherhood, the better. Getting on a ship was too dangerous – The Brotherhood controlled the river and sea trade, she would be seen and her suspicious departure noted, if not prevented altogether. No, she had to leave by land.

In the dark of night, she stole down the South Road, which followed the coast all the way to Avis Armois. Far from the Capitol, perhaps there she could shake pursuit long enough to come up with a more long-term plan. The Mire Queen now beckoned to her which seemed appropriate somehow having become mired herself. As she walked she whispered a soft prayer (to whom she did not know) for forgiveness. But in her heart she knew forgiveness was reserved for those who deserved it.

The best steel doesn't always shine the brightest. Her da had taught her that and she thought of him as she walked south towards Avis Armois, the greatcloak wrapped around her due to the cool of the morn. She could still faintly smell him on it and those smells were comforting, almost as if he still embraced her in the folds of that big cloak. She breathed them in and smiled thinking of him, the pungent smell of the corrosive oils he used to clean his tools were there, and the pleasant smokey aroma of the coals of his forge still clung to the threads, and the musky smell of sweat after a good hard day of honest... She stopped abruptly and bit her lower lip. She sighed, the past is written. She could not change it no matter how much she wished to. But the future is a blank page. And that she could write.

She spotted a small family going in the opposite direction approaching, a young man, his pretty wife and two small girls tugging at their parent's cloaks. She smiled and nodded to them as their paths crossed. Her mind calling back memories of her own youth and her sister Vari. She turned and caught back up to the family offering them most of her fruit. It wouldn't last long and she knew she couldn't eat it all before it went bad. She kept a stem of grapes for herself and waved to them as they continued their journey farther away from her. She returned to the path she had chosen and walked on alone.

Landsoftheblacksea:Main Page/players/danithe thorne

2021-01-02T19:39:41Z

Darithe: /* Basics */

[[ Landsoftheblacksea:Main_Page#Player_Characters | '''Return to the Main Page''']]

A woman running from her past and perhaps seeking redemption.

[[File:ZZDarithe2C.jpg | thumb]]

== Basics ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Character Name !! Player Name !! Race !! Class !! Alignment !! AC !! Experience !! Hit Points
|-
| Darithe Thorne (Meav Delte) || Desconocida || Human || Thief 3 || Chaotic Good || 7 (With Dex Adj) || 1250|| 11
|-
|}

== Physical ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Age !! Height !! Weight !! Eye Colour !! Hair Colour
|-
| 19 || 5'6" || 110 lbs || Light Green || Black
|}

== Stats ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:left"
|-
| Strength || '''11''' || ''Wt. Allowance: 40#; Max Press: 115#; Open Doors: 6; Bend Bars: 2%''
|-
| Dexterity || '''17''' || ''+2 React. Adj; +2 Missile Att. Adj.; -3 Def. Adj.''
|-
| Constitution || '''12''' || ''Sys. Shock: 80%; Res. Surv: 85%''
|-
| Intelligence || '''14''' || ''#Lang: 4''
|-
| Wisdom || '''10''' ||
|-
| Charisma || '''16''' || ''Mx. Hench: 8; Loy. Base: +4; Reac. Adj.: +5''
|-
|}

+10% XP Bonus

== Saving Throws ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Paralyzation/Poison/Death Magic !! Rod, Staff or Wand !! Petrification or Plymorph !! Breath Weapon !! Spell
|-
|| 13 || 14 || 13 || 15 || 12
|}
== Weapon Proficiencies ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Dagger'''
|-
|'''Hand Crossbow'''
|-
|}
== Nonweapon Proficiencies ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Blacksmithing (11)'''
|-
|'''Cooking (14)'''
|-
|'''Healing (8)'''
|-
|'''Herbalism (12)'''
|-
|'''Swimming (11)'''
|-
|'''Tumbling (17)'''
|-
|}

== Thieves Abilities ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
| '''Pick Pockets''' || 15% + 5% (DEX) + 5% (no armor) =25% ||
|-
| '''Open Locks''' || 30% + 10% (DEX) = 40% ||
|-
| '''Find/Remove Traps''' || 25% ||
|-
| '''Move Silently''' || 30% + 5% (DEX) + 10% (no armor) = 45% || Movement reduced to 1/3
|-
| '''Hide in Shadows''' || 35% + 5% (DEX) + 5% (no armor) = 45% ||
|-
| '''Detect Noise''' || 15% ||
|-
| '''Climb Walls''' || 60% + 10% (no armor) = 70% ||
|-
| '''Read Languages''' || 0% ||
|-
|}

== Encumbrance ==
{| class="wikitable"
|'''Unencumbered'''
|'''''0-40'''''
|-
|'''Light'''
|'''''41-58'''''
|-
|'''Moderate'''
|'''''59-76'''''
|-
|'''Heavy'''
|'''''77-96'''''
|-
|'''Severe'''
|'''''97-110'''''
|-
|}
== Equipment ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Clothing'''
|'''''5 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Backpack'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Small pouch'''
|'''''0.5 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Hand Crossbow'''
|'''''3 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Dagger (x2)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|-style="color: blue"
|'''Dwarven made Dagger (x2)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Quiver'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Quarrels (20)'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Dry Rations (3 days)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Waterskin'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Thieves Picks'''
|'''''1 lb'''''
|-
|'''Total'''
|'''''19.5 lbs'''''
|-
|}

== Languages ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Common'''
|-
|'''Vox Mercanti'''
|-
|'''Thieves' Cant'''
|-
|}

== Background ==
[[File:ZZDarithe2L.jpg]]

She stared at her reflection in the mirror for a long time. The red hair would take some getting used to. The shorn locks of her previously long tresses less so, as that frequently just got in the way of her skills. No sign of her Da's dark hair now, the only part she truly inherited from him. Just as the freckles across her pale features came from her mother. Her hands were near as red as the hair stained from the dye. Somehow that seemed apt. She scrubbed the dye from her hands in the washbasin. At least that stain could be washed away...

Darithe Thorne was her name now. Once she had been Meav Delte, the daughter of a blacksmith in the town of Belies-ar-Weil, located mid-way along the coast of Athervon between Avis Inia, the seat of the Kingdom, to the North, and Avis Armois, the oldest and most far-flung of the Kingdom’s major cities, to the South. Her father was as dumb as the anvil he pounded everyday, but he was kind and had a ready smile, and was gentle with his young daughters Meav and her sister Vari. He did his best to support his two daughters on what little income he could make from shoeing horses and hammering out crude nails to build the rickety buildings in this poor section of town.

Their mother passed from a fever when Vari was five. Meav was three years older and did the best she could for her Da and young sister. She took care of them and when money was short she did what she had to for a few more coins to add to their larder. She helped in the smithy as much as she could and took care of delivering special orders for her Da. She found with a pretty smile she would sometimes even get tips, not much, but everything helped. She was poor but she was bright. She quickly picked up some smithing skills from her father and taught herself to read and write, which was rare for the people from her part of town.

Belis-ar-Weil was neither particularly large nor particularly small; but it held a strategic location at the mouth of the Aumine river, which carried the riches of the Kingdom’s interior to the sea, where it was then sent to either Avis Inia or Avis Armois for final destinations. Due to this vast amount of traffic in lucrative goods, the town had more than its fair share of criminal element, intent on skimming some of the proceeds for themselves. While there were a number of gangs that operated around the town, all paid their respects to the notorious Five Points Brotherhood. The Brotherhood was a huge network of Thieves that had bases over nearly the entire Kingdom – at least, that was what was said. Based out of the Capitol, The Brotherhood controlled virtually all the illegal traffic flowing on the land route between Avis Inia and Tras Veniri, and had a heavy hand in distribution to points beyond inside of Athervon. No one of sane mind crossed The Brotherhood – their operatives and informants were everywhere, and they did not hesitate to deal with problems that threatened their profitable position.

Meav had never planned to join them. To the contrary, she had always steered clear of the young gangs of new recruits, and ignored their catcalls, offers, and sometimes threats as she made her deliveries in town – that she could deal with. What really made her pick up her pace was the way one of the older members – a street captain known as Dregs – looked at her. He didn’t seem to be looking at the pretty young woman with leering eyes and lustful sneers like the others. No, Dregs always seemed to be assessing whether she might be useful to him, whether she could be an asset to his operation. His cold gaze watched her every time she passed, but he never said a thing – just gave a slight touch to his cap in greeting after their eyes met, and then turned back to his business.

She choked back a laugh thinking about it now.

She managed to keep things on an even keel until her 17th year. That was the year her Da passed – walking home at night after the neighborhood innkeeper had rewarded him with a few pints for some emergency repairs to some of his stable equipment, he must’ve never seen the horseman, riding at a full gallop along the dark road. She ran out at the sounds and screams to see him lying in the mud, blood beginning to form a small pool around him. The rider never stopped, disappearing into the darkness.

After Da was in the ground, she assessed the situation, and realized something had to give. She didn't see herself or Vari swinging a hammer to make a living. She retched at the thought of some of the things women did for coin near the docks – she would die before that became her fate. Then the faces of the gang captains came to her – that cold gaze, assessing her. Perhaps she could be of use to them.

She had no idea how to initiate a conversation about this, but her mind was made up. She walked directly up to Dregs through the crowd of his young proteges, the blood that was pounding in her ears drowning out their infantile suggestions and insults.

“I need some work.” She blurted it out without even knowing it. She held her breath waiting for him to speak.

For a moment, he didn’t – just looked at her again with the same cold eyes.

Finally, he spoke. “B’out time. Let’s get ya to Fergasse, see what he has fer ya.” His voice was rough, thin, fitting his grizzled appearance perfectly. She realized it was the first time she had ever heard it.

Fergasse was the local Master of The Brotherhood, overseeing their operations in the town. If he had ever been a working thief, there was no way to tell now – he was a very fat man, who spent more time overseeing account books than picking pockets. But he was the ordained boss for The Brotherhood in town, and he did not need to worry about his girth – there were plenty of fit gang members who would take care of any of Fergasse’s problems.

Dregs brought her to a warehouse by the docks, one she had always been warned to stay away from by Ma & Da. She had to pass by room after room of intimidating looking men, and one even patted her down and felt her up making sure she didn’t have a weapon. Finally she was in Fergasse’s “office”, a large room filled with boxes, bags, sacks, barrels, crates, chests, and every manner of thing used to transport goods – as well as piles and piles of leather-bound books: ship’s journals, logs, account books, inventory scrolls. Fergasse supervised a small army of men moving things in and out while another army was copying and modifying books, writing so fast they were sweating. Fergasse’s eye flicked to her after Dreg was able to whisper something in his ear, and he spat something back she didn’t hear, before he turned back to conducting the mayhem in the room.

Dreg took her back to her place and told her how it would work. She would start just doing "special deliveries" and watching for the town guard who's eyes were easily distracted by a lithe darkhaired lass. It was easy work for the most part, and she was good at it – folks knew her Da was gone, and men circled her like buzzards if she gave them the chance, wanting to be there when her finances or her will finally broke.

But those tasks weren't enough to support her and Vari; soon, she was pestering Dreg for bigger opportunity. Happy with her performance, he graduated her to more advanced work for the guild.

She took to the tasks like a bird to the air. It excited her. It gave her freedom from the drudgery of the smithy. And the coins to be had (earned?) were greater than she had ever seen. Though just eighteen by then, she quickly became a rising star in the guild. Soon enough, Dregs re-introduced her to Fergasse at the Bosses’ request. Fergasse wanted to have a look at this new recruit who was making him so much money.

As Fergasse spoke about the impression she had made, and that if she played her cards right she could have a bright future in The Brotherhood, she noticed a young man lounging back on a pile of grain sacks, staring at her with dark, hooded eyes. She had seen that stare before, but she was not that person anymore. She ignored the look, her lip curling into a mild sneer to express her disinterest.

After the meeting was over, she asked Dregs about the man. “Eh? On the sacks? Ach, thas Dany – Fergasse’s boyo. What ye’want wit him? Oh ya? Fancy’s ya does he? Well, ya be careful lass – that boyo’s got more problems than the Emperor of Jhon, he does – and he’ll make’em your problems if ya let ‘im. Best steer clear of ‘im, stay focused on yer work. He’s trouble if you like ‘im – but he’s also trouble if ya don’t, if ya take my meaning. Don’t make Fergasse choose between yas.”

She learned from others that Dany was an addict – he smoked the seeds from the Jhonian mazak plant, which generated the dark circles around his eyes and the vacant stare.

She heeded Dregs advice and made every attempt to avoid Dany. But to her dismay, Dany had other ideas. Apparently infatuated by her, he began hanging out in her neighborhood, repeatedly offering to buy her dinner, drinks, or to join him in a harmless smoke. She rebuffed him – gently, carefully, always saying that she had something to get done for his father. More than once she had to signal Dregs to intercept them and provide an escape. She began to stay away from the house more – Vari had enough money and was getting old enough to take care of herself and most of the chores at home while Meav earned their keep.

She used the time to hone her skills every day and the exciting life on the edge became like a drug to her. What started as a tactic to avoid Dany soon became a need to spend more and more time finding ways to complete the jobs allotted to her in the most impressive way possible. Vari was left to fend for herself as Meav was gone more and more, but Meav told herself Vari would have to learn to manage the home at some point, which assuaged her guilt at not being home with her sister.

One night, exhausted from nearly two solid days of casing a new ship that had arrived, she came home and found Vari in her bed – with Dany lying next to her. From the look of it, they had apparently been celebrating for days – there were clothes and half-eaten meals everywhere. The bitter-sweet smell of mazak hit her nostrils, and she noticed several pipes were strewn about, full of the dark tarry residue the drug leaves.

Meav was incensed – Vari had ruined everything! Now what was she going to do?

She carefully stepped over Dany and shook Vari, whispering for her to get up. But the girl remained prone, motionless. She shook harder, finally pulling her hard and flipping her over – to recoil in horror as the wide, sightless eyes of her sister stared back at her from dark hooded sockets, the open lips tinged blue.

Meav stumbled back against the wall, her heart pounding. She couldn’t think. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

She started as Dany mumbled something and rolled over onto one arm, lifting himself up on his elbow. His heavy-lidded eyes revealed he was still in the throes of the drug. He reached out to Vari, touching the dead girls arm. A minute later, a giggle erupted from him.

“I told…told you. You got to…to work up to…to it. Can’t be doing what I do. Sil…silly…girl.”

He flopped down, finally noticing Meav. “Oh…hey. You’re here. That’s great – I really was interested in you more anyway.” His eyes fluttered closed again, and he resumed gently snoring.

That day Meav picked up her Da's hammer for the last time in doing so ended her time in the guild, and guildmaster's son's life.

She looked once more in the mirror. Meav was dead, and Darithe reborn from her ashes. A dark phoenix for sure. She gathered her meager belongs and wrapped herself in her father oversized cloak and started outside. She glanced once more back at the smithy and then was gone. She walked on leaving the past behind.

A new town then, one where she is unknown. A place to disappear. The further from The Brotherhood, the better. Getting on a ship was too dangerous – The Brotherhood controlled the river and sea trade, she would be seen and her suspicious departure noted, if not prevented altogether. No, she had to leave by land.

In the dark of night, she stole down the South Road, which followed the coast all the way to Avis Armois. Far from the Capitol, perhaps there she could shake pursuit long enough to come up with a more long-term plan. The Mire Queen now beckoned to her which seemed appropriate somehow having become mired herself. As she walked she whispered a soft prayer (to whom she did not know) for forgiveness. But in her heart she knew forgiveness was reserved for those who deserved it.

The best steel doesn't always shine the brightest. Her da had taught her that and she thought of him as she walked south towards Avis Armois, the greatcloak wrapped around her due to the cool of the morn. She could still faintly smell him on it and those smells were comforting, almost as if he still embraced her in the folds of that big cloak. She breathed them in and smiled thinking of him, the pungent smell of the corrosive oils he used to clean his tools were there, and the pleasant smokey aroma of the coals of his forge still clung to the threads, and the musky smell of sweat after a good hard day of honest... She stopped abruptly and bit her lower lip. She sighed, the past is written. She could not change it no matter how much she wished to. But the future is a blank page. And that she could write.

She spotted a small family going in the opposite direction approaching, a young man, his pretty wife and two small girls tugging at their parent's cloaks. She smiled and nodded to them as their paths crossed. Her mind calling back memories of her own youth and her sister Vari. She turned and caught back up to the family offering them most of her fruit. It wouldn't last long and she knew she couldn't eat it all before it went bad. She kept a stem of grapes for herself and waved to them as they continued their journey farther away from her. She returned to the path she had chosen and walked on alone.

Landsoftheblacksea:Main Page/players/danithe thorne

2021-01-02T19:39:20Z

Darithe: /* Basics */

[[ Landsoftheblacksea:Main_Page#Player_Characters | '''Return to the Main Page''']]

A woman running from her past and perhaps seeking redemption.

[[File:ZZDarithe2C.jpg | thumb]]

== Basics ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Character Name !! Player Name !! Race !! Class !! Alignment !! AC !! Experience !! Hit Points
|-
| Darithe Thorne (Meav Delte) || Desconocida || Human || Thief 3 || Chaotic Good || 7 (With Dex Adj) || 1250|| 8
|-
|}

== Physical ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Age !! Height !! Weight !! Eye Colour !! Hair Colour
|-
| 19 || 5'6" || 110 lbs || Light Green || Black
|}

== Stats ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:left"
|-
| Strength || '''11''' || ''Wt. Allowance: 40#; Max Press: 115#; Open Doors: 6; Bend Bars: 2%''
|-
| Dexterity || '''17''' || ''+2 React. Adj; +2 Missile Att. Adj.; -3 Def. Adj.''
|-
| Constitution || '''12''' || ''Sys. Shock: 80%; Res. Surv: 85%''
|-
| Intelligence || '''14''' || ''#Lang: 4''
|-
| Wisdom || '''10''' ||
|-
| Charisma || '''16''' || ''Mx. Hench: 8; Loy. Base: +4; Reac. Adj.: +5''
|-
|}

+10% XP Bonus

== Saving Throws ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Paralyzation/Poison/Death Magic !! Rod, Staff or Wand !! Petrification or Plymorph !! Breath Weapon !! Spell
|-
|| 13 || 14 || 13 || 15 || 12
|}
== Weapon Proficiencies ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Dagger'''
|-
|'''Hand Crossbow'''
|-
|}
== Nonweapon Proficiencies ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Blacksmithing (11)'''
|-
|'''Cooking (14)'''
|-
|'''Healing (8)'''
|-
|'''Herbalism (12)'''
|-
|'''Swimming (11)'''
|-
|'''Tumbling (17)'''
|-
|}

== Thieves Abilities ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
| '''Pick Pockets''' || 15% + 5% (DEX) + 5% (no armor) =25% ||
|-
| '''Open Locks''' || 30% + 10% (DEX) = 40% ||
|-
| '''Find/Remove Traps''' || 25% ||
|-
| '''Move Silently''' || 30% + 5% (DEX) + 10% (no armor) = 45% || Movement reduced to 1/3
|-
| '''Hide in Shadows''' || 35% + 5% (DEX) + 5% (no armor) = 45% ||
|-
| '''Detect Noise''' || 15% ||
|-
| '''Climb Walls''' || 60% + 10% (no armor) = 70% ||
|-
| '''Read Languages''' || 0% ||
|-
|}

== Encumbrance ==
{| class="wikitable"
|'''Unencumbered'''
|'''''0-40'''''
|-
|'''Light'''
|'''''41-58'''''
|-
|'''Moderate'''
|'''''59-76'''''
|-
|'''Heavy'''
|'''''77-96'''''
|-
|'''Severe'''
|'''''97-110'''''
|-
|}
== Equipment ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Clothing'''
|'''''5 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Backpack'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Small pouch'''
|'''''0.5 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Hand Crossbow'''
|'''''3 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Dagger (x2)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|-style="color: blue"
|'''Dwarven made Dagger (x2)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Quiver'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Quarrels (20)'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Dry Rations (3 days)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Waterskin'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Thieves Picks'''
|'''''1 lb'''''
|-
|'''Total'''
|'''''19.5 lbs'''''
|-
|}

== Languages ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Common'''
|-
|'''Vox Mercanti'''
|-
|'''Thieves' Cant'''
|-
|}

== Background ==
[[File:ZZDarithe2L.jpg]]

She stared at her reflection in the mirror for a long time. The red hair would take some getting used to. The shorn locks of her previously long tresses less so, as that frequently just got in the way of her skills. No sign of her Da's dark hair now, the only part she truly inherited from him. Just as the freckles across her pale features came from her mother. Her hands were near as red as the hair stained from the dye. Somehow that seemed apt. She scrubbed the dye from her hands in the washbasin. At least that stain could be washed away...

Darithe Thorne was her name now. Once she had been Meav Delte, the daughter of a blacksmith in the town of Belies-ar-Weil, located mid-way along the coast of Athervon between Avis Inia, the seat of the Kingdom, to the North, and Avis Armois, the oldest and most far-flung of the Kingdom’s major cities, to the South. Her father was as dumb as the anvil he pounded everyday, but he was kind and had a ready smile, and was gentle with his young daughters Meav and her sister Vari. He did his best to support his two daughters on what little income he could make from shoeing horses and hammering out crude nails to build the rickety buildings in this poor section of town.

Their mother passed from a fever when Vari was five. Meav was three years older and did the best she could for her Da and young sister. She took care of them and when money was short she did what she had to for a few more coins to add to their larder. She helped in the smithy as much as she could and took care of delivering special orders for her Da. She found with a pretty smile she would sometimes even get tips, not much, but everything helped. She was poor but she was bright. She quickly picked up some smithing skills from her father and taught herself to read and write, which was rare for the people from her part of town.

Belis-ar-Weil was neither particularly large nor particularly small; but it held a strategic location at the mouth of the Aumine river, which carried the riches of the Kingdom’s interior to the sea, where it was then sent to either Avis Inia or Avis Armois for final destinations. Due to this vast amount of traffic in lucrative goods, the town had more than its fair share of criminal element, intent on skimming some of the proceeds for themselves. While there were a number of gangs that operated around the town, all paid their respects to the notorious Five Points Brotherhood. The Brotherhood was a huge network of Thieves that had bases over nearly the entire Kingdom – at least, that was what was said. Based out of the Capitol, The Brotherhood controlled virtually all the illegal traffic flowing on the land route between Avis Inia and Tras Veniri, and had a heavy hand in distribution to points beyond inside of Athervon. No one of sane mind crossed The Brotherhood – their operatives and informants were everywhere, and they did not hesitate to deal with problems that threatened their profitable position.

Meav had never planned to join them. To the contrary, she had always steered clear of the young gangs of new recruits, and ignored their catcalls, offers, and sometimes threats as she made her deliveries in town – that she could deal with. What really made her pick up her pace was the way one of the older members – a street captain known as Dregs – looked at her. He didn’t seem to be looking at the pretty young woman with leering eyes and lustful sneers like the others. No, Dregs always seemed to be assessing whether she might be useful to him, whether she could be an asset to his operation. His cold gaze watched her every time she passed, but he never said a thing – just gave a slight touch to his cap in greeting after their eyes met, and then turned back to his business.

She choked back a laugh thinking about it now.

She managed to keep things on an even keel until her 17th year. That was the year her Da passed – walking home at night after the neighborhood innkeeper had rewarded him with a few pints for some emergency repairs to some of his stable equipment, he must’ve never seen the horseman, riding at a full gallop along the dark road. She ran out at the sounds and screams to see him lying in the mud, blood beginning to form a small pool around him. The rider never stopped, disappearing into the darkness.

After Da was in the ground, she assessed the situation, and realized something had to give. She didn't see herself or Vari swinging a hammer to make a living. She retched at the thought of some of the things women did for coin near the docks – she would die before that became her fate. Then the faces of the gang captains came to her – that cold gaze, assessing her. Perhaps she could be of use to them.

She had no idea how to initiate a conversation about this, but her mind was made up. She walked directly up to Dregs through the crowd of his young proteges, the blood that was pounding in her ears drowning out their infantile suggestions and insults.

“I need some work.” She blurted it out without even knowing it. She held her breath waiting for him to speak.

For a moment, he didn’t – just looked at her again with the same cold eyes.

Finally, he spoke. “B’out time. Let’s get ya to Fergasse, see what he has fer ya.” His voice was rough, thin, fitting his grizzled appearance perfectly. She realized it was the first time she had ever heard it.

Fergasse was the local Master of The Brotherhood, overseeing their operations in the town. If he had ever been a working thief, there was no way to tell now – he was a very fat man, who spent more time overseeing account books than picking pockets. But he was the ordained boss for The Brotherhood in town, and he did not need to worry about his girth – there were plenty of fit gang members who would take care of any of Fergasse’s problems.

Dregs brought her to a warehouse by the docks, one she had always been warned to stay away from by Ma & Da. She had to pass by room after room of intimidating looking men, and one even patted her down and felt her up making sure she didn’t have a weapon. Finally she was in Fergasse’s “office”, a large room filled with boxes, bags, sacks, barrels, crates, chests, and every manner of thing used to transport goods – as well as piles and piles of leather-bound books: ship’s journals, logs, account books, inventory scrolls. Fergasse supervised a small army of men moving things in and out while another army was copying and modifying books, writing so fast they were sweating. Fergasse’s eye flicked to her after Dreg was able to whisper something in his ear, and he spat something back she didn’t hear, before he turned back to conducting the mayhem in the room.

Dreg took her back to her place and told her how it would work. She would start just doing "special deliveries" and watching for the town guard who's eyes were easily distracted by a lithe darkhaired lass. It was easy work for the most part, and she was good at it – folks knew her Da was gone, and men circled her like buzzards if she gave them the chance, wanting to be there when her finances or her will finally broke.

But those tasks weren't enough to support her and Vari; soon, she was pestering Dreg for bigger opportunity. Happy with her performance, he graduated her to more advanced work for the guild.

She took to the tasks like a bird to the air. It excited her. It gave her freedom from the drudgery of the smithy. And the coins to be had (earned?) were greater than she had ever seen. Though just eighteen by then, she quickly became a rising star in the guild. Soon enough, Dregs re-introduced her to Fergasse at the Bosses’ request. Fergasse wanted to have a look at this new recruit who was making him so much money.

As Fergasse spoke about the impression she had made, and that if she played her cards right she could have a bright future in The Brotherhood, she noticed a young man lounging back on a pile of grain sacks, staring at her with dark, hooded eyes. She had seen that stare before, but she was not that person anymore. She ignored the look, her lip curling into a mild sneer to express her disinterest.

After the meeting was over, she asked Dregs about the man. “Eh? On the sacks? Ach, thas Dany – Fergasse’s boyo. What ye’want wit him? Oh ya? Fancy’s ya does he? Well, ya be careful lass – that boyo’s got more problems than the Emperor of Jhon, he does – and he’ll make’em your problems if ya let ‘im. Best steer clear of ‘im, stay focused on yer work. He’s trouble if you like ‘im – but he’s also trouble if ya don’t, if ya take my meaning. Don’t make Fergasse choose between yas.”

She learned from others that Dany was an addict – he smoked the seeds from the Jhonian mazak plant, which generated the dark circles around his eyes and the vacant stare.

She heeded Dregs advice and made every attempt to avoid Dany. But to her dismay, Dany had other ideas. Apparently infatuated by her, he began hanging out in her neighborhood, repeatedly offering to buy her dinner, drinks, or to join him in a harmless smoke. She rebuffed him – gently, carefully, always saying that she had something to get done for his father. More than once she had to signal Dregs to intercept them and provide an escape. She began to stay away from the house more – Vari had enough money and was getting old enough to take care of herself and most of the chores at home while Meav earned their keep.

She used the time to hone her skills every day and the exciting life on the edge became like a drug to her. What started as a tactic to avoid Dany soon became a need to spend more and more time finding ways to complete the jobs allotted to her in the most impressive way possible. Vari was left to fend for herself as Meav was gone more and more, but Meav told herself Vari would have to learn to manage the home at some point, which assuaged her guilt at not being home with her sister.

One night, exhausted from nearly two solid days of casing a new ship that had arrived, she came home and found Vari in her bed – with Dany lying next to her. From the look of it, they had apparently been celebrating for days – there were clothes and half-eaten meals everywhere. The bitter-sweet smell of mazak hit her nostrils, and she noticed several pipes were strewn about, full of the dark tarry residue the drug leaves.

Meav was incensed – Vari had ruined everything! Now what was she going to do?

She carefully stepped over Dany and shook Vari, whispering for her to get up. But the girl remained prone, motionless. She shook harder, finally pulling her hard and flipping her over – to recoil in horror as the wide, sightless eyes of her sister stared back at her from dark hooded sockets, the open lips tinged blue.

Meav stumbled back against the wall, her heart pounding. She couldn’t think. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

She started as Dany mumbled something and rolled over onto one arm, lifting himself up on his elbow. His heavy-lidded eyes revealed he was still in the throes of the drug. He reached out to Vari, touching the dead girls arm. A minute later, a giggle erupted from him.

“I told…told you. You got to…to work up to…to it. Can’t be doing what I do. Sil…silly…girl.”

He flopped down, finally noticing Meav. “Oh…hey. You’re here. That’s great – I really was interested in you more anyway.” His eyes fluttered closed again, and he resumed gently snoring.

That day Meav picked up her Da's hammer for the last time in doing so ended her time in the guild, and guildmaster's son's life.

She looked once more in the mirror. Meav was dead, and Darithe reborn from her ashes. A dark phoenix for sure. She gathered her meager belongs and wrapped herself in her father oversized cloak and started outside. She glanced once more back at the smithy and then was gone. She walked on leaving the past behind.

A new town then, one where she is unknown. A place to disappear. The further from The Brotherhood, the better. Getting on a ship was too dangerous – The Brotherhood controlled the river and sea trade, she would be seen and her suspicious departure noted, if not prevented altogether. No, she had to leave by land.

In the dark of night, she stole down the South Road, which followed the coast all the way to Avis Armois. Far from the Capitol, perhaps there she could shake pursuit long enough to come up with a more long-term plan. The Mire Queen now beckoned to her which seemed appropriate somehow having become mired herself. As she walked she whispered a soft prayer (to whom she did not know) for forgiveness. But in her heart she knew forgiveness was reserved for those who deserved it.

The best steel doesn't always shine the brightest. Her da had taught her that and she thought of him as she walked south towards Avis Armois, the greatcloak wrapped around her due to the cool of the morn. She could still faintly smell him on it and those smells were comforting, almost as if he still embraced her in the folds of that big cloak. She breathed them in and smiled thinking of him, the pungent smell of the corrosive oils he used to clean his tools were there, and the pleasant smokey aroma of the coals of his forge still clung to the threads, and the musky smell of sweat after a good hard day of honest... She stopped abruptly and bit her lower lip. She sighed, the past is written. She could not change it no matter how much she wished to. But the future is a blank page. And that she could write.

She spotted a small family going in the opposite direction approaching, a young man, his pretty wife and two small girls tugging at their parent's cloaks. She smiled and nodded to them as their paths crossed. Her mind calling back memories of her own youth and her sister Vari. She turned and caught back up to the family offering them most of her fruit. It wouldn't last long and she knew she couldn't eat it all before it went bad. She kept a stem of grapes for herself and waved to them as they continued their journey farther away from her. She returned to the path she had chosen and walked on alone.

Landsoftheblacksea:Main Page/players/danithe thorne

2021-01-01T20:04:41Z

Darithe: /* Background */

[[ Landsoftheblacksea:Main_Page#Player_Characters | '''Return to the Main Page''']]

A woman running from her past and perhaps seeking redemption.

[[File:ZZDarithe2C.jpg | thumb]]

== Basics ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Character Name !! Player Name !! Race !! Class !! Alignment !! AC !! Experience !! Hit Points
|-
| Darithe Thorne (Meav Delte) || Desconocida || Human || Thief 2 || Chaotic Good || 7 (With Dex Adj) || 1250|| 8
|-
|}
== Physical ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Age !! Height !! Weight !! Eye Colour !! Hair Colour
|-
| 19 || 5'6" || 110 lbs || Light Green || Black
|}

== Stats ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:left"
|-
| Strength || '''11''' || ''Wt. Allowance: 40#; Max Press: 115#; Open Doors: 6; Bend Bars: 2%''
|-
| Dexterity || '''17''' || ''+2 React. Adj; +2 Missile Att. Adj.; -3 Def. Adj.''
|-
| Constitution || '''12''' || ''Sys. Shock: 80%; Res. Surv: 85%''
|-
| Intelligence || '''14''' || ''#Lang: 4''
|-
| Wisdom || '''10''' ||
|-
| Charisma || '''16''' || ''Mx. Hench: 8; Loy. Base: +4; Reac. Adj.: +5''
|-
|}

+10% XP Bonus

== Saving Throws ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Paralyzation/Poison/Death Magic !! Rod, Staff or Wand !! Petrification or Plymorph !! Breath Weapon !! Spell
|-
|| 13 || 14 || 13 || 15 || 12
|}
== Weapon Proficiencies ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Dagger'''
|-
|'''Hand Crossbow'''
|-
|}
== Nonweapon Proficiencies ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Blacksmithing (11)'''
|-
|'''Cooking (14)'''
|-
|'''Healing (8)'''
|-
|'''Herbalism (12)'''
|-
|'''Swimming (11)'''
|-
|'''Tumbling (17)'''
|-
|}

== Thieves Abilities ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
| '''Pick Pockets''' || 15% + 5% (DEX) + 5% (no armor) =25% ||
|-
| '''Open Locks''' || 30% + 10% (DEX) = 40% ||
|-
| '''Find/Remove Traps''' || 25% ||
|-
| '''Move Silently''' || 30% + 5% (DEX) + 10% (no armor) = 45% || Movement reduced to 1/3
|-
| '''Hide in Shadows''' || 35% + 5% (DEX) + 5% (no armor) = 45% ||
|-
| '''Detect Noise''' || 15% ||
|-
| '''Climb Walls''' || 60% + 10% (no armor) = 70% ||
|-
| '''Read Languages''' || 0% ||
|-
|}

== Encumbrance ==
{| class="wikitable"
|'''Unencumbered'''
|'''''0-40'''''
|-
|'''Light'''
|'''''41-58'''''
|-
|'''Moderate'''
|'''''59-76'''''
|-
|'''Heavy'''
|'''''77-96'''''
|-
|'''Severe'''
|'''''97-110'''''
|-
|}
== Equipment ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Clothing'''
|'''''5 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Backpack'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Small pouch'''
|'''''0.5 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Hand Crossbow'''
|'''''3 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Dagger (x2)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|-style="color: blue"
|'''Dwarven made Dagger (x2)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Quiver'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Quarrels (20)'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Dry Rations (3 days)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Waterskin'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Thieves Picks'''
|'''''1 lb'''''
|-
|'''Total'''
|'''''19.5 lbs'''''
|-
|}

== Languages ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Common'''
|-
|'''Vox Mercanti'''
|-
|'''Thieves' Cant'''
|-
|}

== Background ==
[[File:ZZDarithe2L.jpg]]

She stared at her reflection in the mirror for a long time. The red hair would take some getting used to. The shorn locks of her previously long tresses less so, as that frequently just got in the way of her skills. No sign of her Da's dark hair now, the only part she truly inherited from him. Just as the freckles across her pale features came from her mother. Her hands were near as red as the hair stained from the dye. Somehow that seemed apt. She scrubbed the dye from her hands in the washbasin. At least that stain could be washed away...

Darithe Thorne was her name now. Once she had been Meav Delte, the daughter of a blacksmith in the town of Belies-ar-Weil, located mid-way along the coast of Athervon between Avis Inia, the seat of the Kingdom, to the North, and Avis Armois, the oldest and most far-flung of the Kingdom’s major cities, to the South. Her father was as dumb as the anvil he pounded everyday, but he was kind and had a ready smile, and was gentle with his young daughters Meav and her sister Vari. He did his best to support his two daughters on what little income he could make from shoeing horses and hammering out crude nails to build the rickety buildings in this poor section of town.

Their mother passed from a fever when Vari was five. Meav was three years older and did the best she could for her Da and young sister. She took care of them and when money was short she did what she had to for a few more coins to add to their larder. She helped in the smithy as much as she could and took care of delivering special orders for her Da. She found with a pretty smile she would sometimes even get tips, not much, but everything helped. She was poor but she was bright. She quickly picked up some smithing skills from her father and taught herself to read and write, which was rare for the people from her part of town.

Belis-ar-Weil was neither particularly large nor particularly small; but it held a strategic location at the mouth of the Aumine river, which carried the riches of the Kingdom’s interior to the sea, where it was then sent to either Avis Inia or Avis Armois for final destinations. Due to this vast amount of traffic in lucrative goods, the town had more than its fair share of criminal element, intent on skimming some of the proceeds for themselves. While there were a number of gangs that operated around the town, all paid their respects to the notorious Five Points Brotherhood. The Brotherhood was a huge network of Thieves that had bases over nearly the entire Kingdom – at least, that was what was said. Based out of the Capitol, The Brotherhood controlled virtually all the illegal traffic flowing on the land route between Avis Inia and Tras Veniri, and had a heavy hand in distribution to points beyond inside of Athervon. No one of sane mind crossed The Brotherhood – their operatives and informants were everywhere, and they did not hesitate to deal with problems that threatened their profitable position.

Meav had never planned to join them. To the contrary, she had always steered clear of the young gangs of new recruits, and ignored their catcalls, offers, and sometimes threats as she made her deliveries in town – that she could deal with. What really made her pick up her pace was the way one of the older members – a street captain known as Dregs – looked at her. He didn’t seem to be looking at the pretty young woman with leering eyes and lustful sneers like the others. No, Dregs always seemed to be assessing whether she might be useful to him, whether she could be an asset to his operation. His cold gaze watched her every time she passed, but he never said a thing – just gave a slight touch to his cap in greeting after their eyes met, and then turned back to his business.

She choked back a laugh thinking about it now.

She managed to keep things on an even keel until her 17th year. That was the year her Da passed – walking home at night after the neighborhood innkeeper had rewarded him with a few pints for some emergency repairs to some of his stable equipment, he must’ve never seen the horseman, riding at a full gallop along the dark road. She ran out at the sounds and screams to see him lying in the mud, blood beginning to form a small pool around him. The rider never stopped, disappearing into the darkness.

After Da was in the ground, she assessed the situation, and realized something had to give. She didn't see herself or Vari swinging a hammer to make a living. She retched at the thought of some of the things women did for coin near the docks – she would die before that became her fate. Then the faces of the gang captains came to her – that cold gaze, assessing her. Perhaps she could be of use to them.

She had no idea how to initiate a conversation about this, but her mind was made up. She walked directly up to Dregs through the crowd of his young proteges, the blood that was pounding in her ears drowning out their infantile suggestions and insults.

“I need some work.” She blurted it out without even knowing it. She held her breath waiting for him to speak.

For a moment, he didn’t – just looked at her again with the same cold eyes.

Finally, he spoke. “B’out time. Let’s get ya to Fergasse, see what he has fer ya.” His voice was rough, thin, fitting his grizzled appearance perfectly. She realized it was the first time she had ever heard it.

Fergasse was the local Master of The Brotherhood, overseeing their operations in the town. If he had ever been a working thief, there was no way to tell now – he was a very fat man, who spent more time overseeing account books than picking pockets. But he was the ordained boss for The Brotherhood in town, and he did not need to worry about his girth – there were plenty of fit gang members who would take care of any of Fergasse’s problems.

Dregs brought her to a warehouse by the docks, one she had always been warned to stay away from by Ma & Da. She had to pass by room after room of intimidating looking men, and one even patted her down and felt her up making sure she didn’t have a weapon. Finally she was in Fergasse’s “office”, a large room filled with boxes, bags, sacks, barrels, crates, chests, and every manner of thing used to transport goods – as well as piles and piles of leather-bound books: ship’s journals, logs, account books, inventory scrolls. Fergasse supervised a small army of men moving things in and out while another army was copying and modifying books, writing so fast they were sweating. Fergasse’s eye flicked to her after Dreg was able to whisper something in his ear, and he spat something back she didn’t hear, before he turned back to conducting the mayhem in the room.

Dreg took her back to her place and told her how it would work. She would start just doing "special deliveries" and watching for the town guard who's eyes were easily distracted by a lithe darkhaired lass. It was easy work for the most part, and she was good at it – folks knew her Da was gone, and men circled her like buzzards if she gave them the chance, wanting to be there when her finances or her will finally broke.

But those tasks weren't enough to support her and Vari; soon, she was pestering Dreg for bigger opportunity. Happy with her performance, he graduated her to more advanced work for the guild.

She took to the tasks like a bird to the air. It excited her. It gave her freedom from the drudgery of the smithy. And the coins to be had (earned?) were greater than she had ever seen. Though just eighteen by then, she quickly became a rising star in the guild. Soon enough, Dregs re-introduced her to Fergasse at the Bosses’ request. Fergasse wanted to have a look at this new recruit who was making him so much money.

As Fergasse spoke about the impression she had made, and that if she played her cards right she could have a bright future in The Brotherhood, she noticed a young man lounging back on a pile of grain sacks, staring at her with dark, hooded eyes. She had seen that stare before, but she was not that person anymore. She ignored the look, her lip curling into a mild sneer to express her disinterest.

After the meeting was over, she asked Dregs about the man. “Eh? On the sacks? Ach, thas Dany – Fergasse’s boyo. What ye’want wit him? Oh ya? Fancy’s ya does he? Well, ya be careful lass – that boyo’s got more problems than the Emperor of Jhon, he does – and he’ll make’em your problems if ya let ‘im. Best steer clear of ‘im, stay focused on yer work. He’s trouble if you like ‘im – but he’s also trouble if ya don’t, if ya take my meaning. Don’t make Fergasse choose between yas.”

She learned from others that Dany was an addict – he smoked the seeds from the Jhonian mazak plant, which generated the dark circles around his eyes and the vacant stare.

She heeded Dregs advice and made every attempt to avoid Dany. But to her dismay, Dany had other ideas. Apparently infatuated by her, he began hanging out in her neighborhood, repeatedly offering to buy her dinner, drinks, or to join him in a harmless smoke. She rebuffed him – gently, carefully, always saying that she had something to get done for his father. More than once she had to signal Dregs to intercept them and provide an escape. She began to stay away from the house more – Vari had enough money and was getting old enough to take care of herself and most of the chores at home while Meav earned their keep.

She used the time to hone her skills every day and the exciting life on the edge became like a drug to her. What started as a tactic to avoid Dany soon became a need to spend more and more time finding ways to complete the jobs allotted to her in the most impressive way possible. Vari was left to fend for herself as Meav was gone more and more, but Meav told herself Vari would have to learn to manage the home at some point, which assuaged her guilt at not being home with her sister.

One night, exhausted from nearly two solid days of casing a new ship that had arrived, she came home and found Vari in her bed – with Dany lying next to her. From the look of it, they had apparently been celebrating for days – there were clothes and half-eaten meals everywhere. The bitter-sweet smell of mazak hit her nostrils, and she noticed several pipes were strewn about, full of the dark tarry residue the drug leaves.

Meav was incensed – Vari had ruined everything! Now what was she going to do?

She carefully stepped over Dany and shook Vari, whispering for her to get up. But the girl remained prone, motionless. She shook harder, finally pulling her hard and flipping her over – to recoil in horror as the wide, sightless eyes of her sister stared back at her from dark hooded sockets, the open lips tinged blue.

Meav stumbled back against the wall, her heart pounding. She couldn’t think. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

She started as Dany mumbled something and rolled over onto one arm, lifting himself up on his elbow. His heavy-lidded eyes revealed he was still in the throes of the drug. He reached out to Vari, touching the dead girls arm. A minute later, a giggle erupted from him.

“I told…told you. You got to…to work up to…to it. Can’t be doing what I do. Sil…silly…girl.”

He flopped down, finally noticing Meav. “Oh…hey. You’re here. That’s great – I really was interested in you more anyway.” His eyes fluttered closed again, and he resumed gently snoring.

That day Meav picked up her Da's hammer for the last time in doing so ended her time in the guild, and guildmaster's son's life.

She looked once more in the mirror. Meav was dead, and Darithe reborn from her ashes. A dark phoenix for sure. She gathered her meager belongs and wrapped herself in her father oversized cloak and started outside. She glanced once more back at the smithy and then was gone. She walked on leaving the past behind.

A new town then, one where she is unknown. A place to disappear. The further from The Brotherhood, the better. Getting on a ship was too dangerous – The Brotherhood controlled the river and sea trade, she would be seen and her suspicious departure noted, if not prevented altogether. No, she had to leave by land.

In the dark of night, she stole down the South Road, which followed the coast all the way to Avis Armois. Far from the Capitol, perhaps there she could shake pursuit long enough to come up with a more long-term plan. The Mire Queen now beckoned to her which seemed appropriate somehow having become mired herself. As she walked she whispered a soft prayer (to whom she did not know) for forgiveness. But in her heart she knew forgiveness was reserved for those who deserved it.

The best steel doesn't always shine the brightest. Her da had taught her that and she thought of him as she walked south towards Avis Armois, the greatcloak wrapped around her due to the cool of the morn. She could still faintly smell him on it and those smells were comforting, almost as if he still embraced her in the folds of that big cloak. She breathed them in and smiled thinking of him, the pungent smell of the corrosive oils he used to clean his tools were there, and the pleasant smokey aroma of the coals of his forge still clung to the threads, and the musky smell of sweat after a good hard day of honest... She stopped abruptly and bit her lower lip. She sighed, the past is written. She could not change it no matter how much she wished to. But the future is a blank page. And that she could write.

She spotted a small family going in the opposite direction approaching, a young man, his pretty wife and two small girls tugging at their parent's cloaks. She smiled and nodded to them as their paths crossed. Her mind calling back memories of her own youth and her sister Vari. She turned and caught back up to the family offering them most of her fruit. It wouldn't last long and she knew she couldn't eat it all before it went bad. She kept a stem of grapes for herself and waved to them as they continued their journey farther away from her. She returned to the path she had chosen and walked on alone.

Landsoftheblacksea:Main Page/players/danithe thorne

2021-01-01T20:03:47Z

Darithe: /* Physical */

[[ Landsoftheblacksea:Main_Page#Player_Characters | '''Return to the Main Page''']]

A woman running from her past and perhaps seeking redemption.

[[File:ZZDarithe2C.jpg | thumb]]

== Basics ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Character Name !! Player Name !! Race !! Class !! Alignment !! AC !! Experience !! Hit Points
|-
| Darithe Thorne (Meav Delte) || Desconocida || Human || Thief 2 || Chaotic Good || 7 (With Dex Adj) || 1250|| 8
|-
|}
== Physical ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Age !! Height !! Weight !! Eye Colour !! Hair Colour
|-
| 19 || 5'6" || 110 lbs || Light Green || Black
|}

== Stats ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:left"
|-
| Strength || '''11''' || ''Wt. Allowance: 40#; Max Press: 115#; Open Doors: 6; Bend Bars: 2%''
|-
| Dexterity || '''17''' || ''+2 React. Adj; +2 Missile Att. Adj.; -3 Def. Adj.''
|-
| Constitution || '''12''' || ''Sys. Shock: 80%; Res. Surv: 85%''
|-
| Intelligence || '''14''' || ''#Lang: 4''
|-
| Wisdom || '''10''' ||
|-
| Charisma || '''16''' || ''Mx. Hench: 8; Loy. Base: +4; Reac. Adj.: +5''
|-
|}

+10% XP Bonus

== Saving Throws ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Paralyzation/Poison/Death Magic !! Rod, Staff or Wand !! Petrification or Plymorph !! Breath Weapon !! Spell
|-
|| 13 || 14 || 13 || 15 || 12
|}
== Weapon Proficiencies ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Dagger'''
|-
|'''Hand Crossbow'''
|-
|}
== Nonweapon Proficiencies ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Blacksmithing (11)'''
|-
|'''Cooking (14)'''
|-
|'''Healing (8)'''
|-
|'''Herbalism (12)'''
|-
|'''Swimming (11)'''
|-
|'''Tumbling (17)'''
|-
|}

== Thieves Abilities ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
| '''Pick Pockets''' || 15% + 5% (DEX) + 5% (no armor) =25% ||
|-
| '''Open Locks''' || 30% + 10% (DEX) = 40% ||
|-
| '''Find/Remove Traps''' || 25% ||
|-
| '''Move Silently''' || 30% + 5% (DEX) + 10% (no armor) = 45% || Movement reduced to 1/3
|-
| '''Hide in Shadows''' || 35% + 5% (DEX) + 5% (no armor) = 45% ||
|-
| '''Detect Noise''' || 15% ||
|-
| '''Climb Walls''' || 60% + 10% (no armor) = 70% ||
|-
| '''Read Languages''' || 0% ||
|-
|}

== Encumbrance ==
{| class="wikitable"
|'''Unencumbered'''
|'''''0-40'''''
|-
|'''Light'''
|'''''41-58'''''
|-
|'''Moderate'''
|'''''59-76'''''
|-
|'''Heavy'''
|'''''77-96'''''
|-
|'''Severe'''
|'''''97-110'''''
|-
|}
== Equipment ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Clothing'''
|'''''5 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Backpack'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Small pouch'''
|'''''0.5 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Hand Crossbow'''
|'''''3 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Dagger (x2)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|-style="color: blue"
|'''Dwarven made Dagger (x2)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Quiver'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Quarrels (20)'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Dry Rations (3 days)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Waterskin'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Thieves Picks'''
|'''''1 lb'''''
|-
|'''Total'''
|'''''19.5 lbs'''''
|-
|}

== Languages ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Common'''
|-
|'''Vox Mercanti'''
|-
|'''Thieves' Cant'''
|-
|}

== Background ==
[[File:zzDaritheL.jpg]]

She stared at her reflection in the mirror for a long time. The red hair would take some getting used to. The shorn locks of her previously long tresses less so, as that frequently just got in the way of her skills. No sign of her Da's dark hair now, the only part she truly inherited from him. Just as the freckles across her pale features came from her mother. Her hands were near as red as the hair stained from the dye. Somehow that seemed apt. She scrubbed the dye from her hands in the washbasin. At least that stain could be washed away...

Darithe Thorne was her name now. Once she had been Meav Delte, the daughter of a blacksmith in the town of Belies-ar-Weil, located mid-way along the coast of Athervon between Avis Inia, the seat of the Kingdom, to the North, and Avis Armois, the oldest and most far-flung of the Kingdom’s major cities, to the South. Her father was as dumb as the anvil he pounded everyday, but he was kind and had a ready smile, and was gentle with his young daughters Meav and her sister Vari. He did his best to support his two daughters on what little income he could make from shoeing horses and hammering out crude nails to build the rickety buildings in this poor section of town.

Their mother passed from a fever when Vari was five. Meav was three years older and did the best she could for her Da and young sister. She took care of them and when money was short she did what she had to for a few more coins to add to their larder. She helped in the smithy as much as she could and took care of delivering special orders for her Da. She found with a pretty smile she would sometimes even get tips, not much, but everything helped. She was poor but she was bright. She quickly picked up some smithing skills from her father and taught herself to read and write, which was rare for the people from her part of town.

Belis-ar-Weil was neither particularly large nor particularly small; but it held a strategic location at the mouth of the Aumine river, which carried the riches of the Kingdom’s interior to the sea, where it was then sent to either Avis Inia or Avis Armois for final destinations. Due to this vast amount of traffic in lucrative goods, the town had more than its fair share of criminal element, intent on skimming some of the proceeds for themselves. While there were a number of gangs that operated around the town, all paid their respects to the notorious Five Points Brotherhood. The Brotherhood was a huge network of Thieves that had bases over nearly the entire Kingdom – at least, that was what was said. Based out of the Capitol, The Brotherhood controlled virtually all the illegal traffic flowing on the land route between Avis Inia and Tras Veniri, and had a heavy hand in distribution to points beyond inside of Athervon. No one of sane mind crossed The Brotherhood – their operatives and informants were everywhere, and they did not hesitate to deal with problems that threatened their profitable position.

Meav had never planned to join them. To the contrary, she had always steered clear of the young gangs of new recruits, and ignored their catcalls, offers, and sometimes threats as she made her deliveries in town – that she could deal with. What really made her pick up her pace was the way one of the older members – a street captain known as Dregs – looked at her. He didn’t seem to be looking at the pretty young woman with leering eyes and lustful sneers like the others. No, Dregs always seemed to be assessing whether she might be useful to him, whether she could be an asset to his operation. His cold gaze watched her every time she passed, but he never said a thing – just gave a slight touch to his cap in greeting after their eyes met, and then turned back to his business.

She choked back a laugh thinking about it now.

She managed to keep things on an even keel until her 17th year. That was the year her Da passed – walking home at night after the neighborhood innkeeper had rewarded him with a few pints for some emergency repairs to some of his stable equipment, he must’ve never seen the horseman, riding at a full gallop along the dark road. She ran out at the sounds and screams to see him lying in the mud, blood beginning to form a small pool around him. The rider never stopped, disappearing into the darkness.

After Da was in the ground, she assessed the situation, and realized something had to give. She didn't see herself or Vari swinging a hammer to make a living. She retched at the thought of some of the things women did for coin near the docks – she would die before that became her fate. Then the faces of the gang captains came to her – that cold gaze, assessing her. Perhaps she could be of use to them.

She had no idea how to initiate a conversation about this, but her mind was made up. She walked directly up to Dregs through the crowd of his young proteges, the blood that was pounding in her ears drowning out their infantile suggestions and insults.

“I need some work.” She blurted it out without even knowing it. She held her breath waiting for him to speak.

For a moment, he didn’t – just looked at her again with the same cold eyes.

Finally, he spoke. “B’out time. Let’s get ya to Fergasse, see what he has fer ya.” His voice was rough, thin, fitting his grizzled appearance perfectly. She realized it was the first time she had ever heard it.

Fergasse was the local Master of The Brotherhood, overseeing their operations in the town. If he had ever been a working thief, there was no way to tell now – he was a very fat man, who spent more time overseeing account books than picking pockets. But he was the ordained boss for The Brotherhood in town, and he did not need to worry about his girth – there were plenty of fit gang members who would take care of any of Fergasse’s problems.

Dregs brought her to a warehouse by the docks, one she had always been warned to stay away from by Ma & Da. She had to pass by room after room of intimidating looking men, and one even patted her down and felt her up making sure she didn’t have a weapon. Finally she was in Fergasse’s “office”, a large room filled with boxes, bags, sacks, barrels, crates, chests, and every manner of thing used to transport goods – as well as piles and piles of leather-bound books: ship’s journals, logs, account books, inventory scrolls. Fergasse supervised a small army of men moving things in and out while another army was copying and modifying books, writing so fast they were sweating. Fergasse’s eye flicked to her after Dreg was able to whisper something in his ear, and he spat something back she didn’t hear, before he turned back to conducting the mayhem in the room.

Dreg took her back to her place and told her how it would work. She would start just doing "special deliveries" and watching for the town guard who's eyes were easily distracted by a lithe darkhaired lass. It was easy work for the most part, and she was good at it – folks knew her Da was gone, and men circled her like buzzards if she gave them the chance, wanting to be there when her finances or her will finally broke.

But those tasks weren't enough to support her and Vari; soon, she was pestering Dreg for bigger opportunity. Happy with her performance, he graduated her to more advanced work for the guild.

She took to the tasks like a bird to the air. It excited her. It gave her freedom from the drudgery of the smithy. And the coins to be had (earned?) were greater than she had ever seen. Though just eighteen by then, she quickly became a rising star in the guild. Soon enough, Dregs re-introduced her to Fergasse at the Bosses’ request. Fergasse wanted to have a look at this new recruit who was making him so much money.

As Fergasse spoke about the impression she had made, and that if she played her cards right she could have a bright future in The Brotherhood, she noticed a young man lounging back on a pile of grain sacks, staring at her with dark, hooded eyes. She had seen that stare before, but she was not that person anymore. She ignored the look, her lip curling into a mild sneer to express her disinterest.

After the meeting was over, she asked Dregs about the man. “Eh? On the sacks? Ach, thas Dany – Fergasse’s boyo. What ye’want wit him? Oh ya? Fancy’s ya does he? Well, ya be careful lass – that boyo’s got more problems than the Emperor of Jhon, he does – and he’ll make’em your problems if ya let ‘im. Best steer clear of ‘im, stay focused on yer work. He’s trouble if you like ‘im – but he’s also trouble if ya don’t, if ya take my meaning. Don’t make Fergasse choose between yas.”

She learned from others that Dany was an addict – he smoked the seeds from the Jhonian mazak plant, which generated the dark circles around his eyes and the vacant stare.

She heeded Dregs advice and made every attempt to avoid Dany. But to her dismay, Dany had other ideas. Apparently infatuated by her, he began hanging out in her neighborhood, repeatedly offering to buy her dinner, drinks, or to join him in a harmless smoke. She rebuffed him – gently, carefully, always saying that she had something to get done for his father. More than once she had to signal Dregs to intercept them and provide an escape. She began to stay away from the house more – Vari had enough money and was getting old enough to take care of herself and most of the chores at home while Meav earned their keep.

She used the time to hone her skills every day and the exciting life on the edge became like a drug to her. What started as a tactic to avoid Dany soon became a need to spend more and more time finding ways to complete the jobs allotted to her in the most impressive way possible. Vari was left to fend for herself as Meav was gone more and more, but Meav told herself Vari would have to learn to manage the home at some point, which assuaged her guilt at not being home with her sister.

One night, exhausted from nearly two solid days of casing a new ship that had arrived, she came home and found Vari in her bed – with Dany lying next to her. From the look of it, they had apparently been celebrating for days – there were clothes and half-eaten meals everywhere. The bitter-sweet smell of mazak hit her nostrils, and she noticed several pipes were strewn about, full of the dark tarry residue the drug leaves.

Meav was incensed – Vari had ruined everything! Now what was she going to do?

She carefully stepped over Dany and shook Vari, whispering for her to get up. But the girl remained prone, motionless. She shook harder, finally pulling her hard and flipping her over – to recoil in horror as the wide, sightless eyes of her sister stared back at her from dark hooded sockets, the open lips tinged blue.

Meav stumbled back against the wall, her heart pounding. She couldn’t think. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

She started as Dany mumbled something and rolled over onto one arm, lifting himself up on his elbow. His heavy-lidded eyes revealed he was still in the throes of the drug. He reached out to Vari, touching the dead girls arm. A minute later, a giggle erupted from him.

“I told…told you. You got to…to work up to…to it. Can’t be doing what I do. Sil…silly…girl.”

He flopped down, finally noticing Meav. “Oh…hey. You’re here. That’s great – I really was interested in you more anyway.” His eyes fluttered closed again, and he resumed gently snoring.

That day Meav picked up her Da's hammer for the last time in doing so ended her time in the guild, and guildmaster's son's life.

She looked once more in the mirror. Meav was dead, and Darithe reborn from her ashes. A dark phoenix for sure. She gathered her meager belongs and wrapped herself in her father oversized cloak and started outside. She glanced once more back at the smithy and then was gone. She walked on leaving the past behind.

A new town then, one where she is unknown. A place to disappear. The further from The Brotherhood, the better. Getting on a ship was too dangerous – The Brotherhood controlled the river and sea trade, she would be seen and her suspicious departure noted, if not prevented altogether. No, she had to leave by land.

In the dark of night, she stole down the South Road, which followed the coast all the way to Avis Armois. Far from the Capitol, perhaps there she could shake pursuit long enough to come up with a more long-term plan. The Mire Queen now beckoned to her which seemed appropriate somehow having become mired herself. As she walked she whispered a soft prayer (to whom she did not know) for forgiveness. But in her heart she knew forgiveness was reserved for those who deserved it.

The best steel doesn't always shine the brightest. Her da had taught her that and she thought of him as she walked south towards Avis Armois, the greatcloak wrapped around her due to the cool of the morn. She could still faintly smell him on it and those smells were comforting, almost as if he still embraced her in the folds of that big cloak. She breathed them in and smiled thinking of him, the pungent smell of the corrosive oils he used to clean his tools were there, and the pleasant smokey aroma of the coals of his forge still clung to the threads, and the musky smell of sweat after a good hard day of honest... She stopped abruptly and bit her lower lip. She sighed, the past is written. She could not change it no matter how much she wished to. But the future is a blank page. And that she could write.

She spotted a small family going in the opposite direction approaching, a young man, his pretty wife and two small girls tugging at their parent's cloaks. She smiled and nodded to them as their paths crossed. Her mind calling back memories of her own youth and her sister Vari. She turned and caught back up to the family offering them most of her fruit. It wouldn't last long and she knew she couldn't eat it all before it went bad. She kept a stem of grapes for herself and waved to them as they continued their journey farther away from her. She returned to the path she had chosen and walked on alone.

Landsoftheblacksea:Main Page/players/danithe thorne

2021-01-01T20:03:02Z

Darithe:

[[ Landsoftheblacksea:Main_Page#Player_Characters | '''Return to the Main Page''']]

A woman running from her past and perhaps seeking redemption.

[[File:ZZDarithe2C.jpg | thumb]]

== Basics ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Character Name !! Player Name !! Race !! Class !! Alignment !! AC !! Experience !! Hit Points
|-
| Darithe Thorne (Meav Delte) || Desconocida || Human || Thief 2 || Chaotic Good || 7 (With Dex Adj) || 1250|| 8
|-
|}
== Physical ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Age !! Height !! Weight !! Eye Colour !! Hair Colour
|-
| 19 || 5'6" || 110 lbs || Light Green || Red (Natural color Black)
|}
== Stats ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:left"
|-
| Strength || '''11''' || ''Wt. Allowance: 40#; Max Press: 115#; Open Doors: 6; Bend Bars: 2%''
|-
| Dexterity || '''17''' || ''+2 React. Adj; +2 Missile Att. Adj.; -3 Def. Adj.''
|-
| Constitution || '''12''' || ''Sys. Shock: 80%; Res. Surv: 85%''
|-
| Intelligence || '''14''' || ''#Lang: 4''
|-
| Wisdom || '''10''' ||
|-
| Charisma || '''16''' || ''Mx. Hench: 8; Loy. Base: +4; Reac. Adj.: +5''
|-
|}

+10% XP Bonus

== Saving Throws ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Paralyzation/Poison/Death Magic !! Rod, Staff or Wand !! Petrification or Plymorph !! Breath Weapon !! Spell
|-
|| 13 || 14 || 13 || 15 || 12
|}
== Weapon Proficiencies ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Dagger'''
|-
|'''Hand Crossbow'''
|-
|}
== Nonweapon Proficiencies ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Blacksmithing (11)'''
|-
|'''Cooking (14)'''
|-
|'''Healing (8)'''
|-
|'''Herbalism (12)'''
|-
|'''Swimming (11)'''
|-
|'''Tumbling (17)'''
|-
|}

== Thieves Abilities ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
| '''Pick Pockets''' || 15% + 5% (DEX) + 5% (no armor) =25% ||
|-
| '''Open Locks''' || 30% + 10% (DEX) = 40% ||
|-
| '''Find/Remove Traps''' || 25% ||
|-
| '''Move Silently''' || 30% + 5% (DEX) + 10% (no armor) = 45% || Movement reduced to 1/3
|-
| '''Hide in Shadows''' || 35% + 5% (DEX) + 5% (no armor) = 45% ||
|-
| '''Detect Noise''' || 15% ||
|-
| '''Climb Walls''' || 60% + 10% (no armor) = 70% ||
|-
| '''Read Languages''' || 0% ||
|-
|}

== Encumbrance ==
{| class="wikitable"
|'''Unencumbered'''
|'''''0-40'''''
|-
|'''Light'''
|'''''41-58'''''
|-
|'''Moderate'''
|'''''59-76'''''
|-
|'''Heavy'''
|'''''77-96'''''
|-
|'''Severe'''
|'''''97-110'''''
|-
|}
== Equipment ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Clothing'''
|'''''5 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Backpack'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Small pouch'''
|'''''0.5 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Hand Crossbow'''
|'''''3 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Dagger (x2)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|-style="color: blue"
|'''Dwarven made Dagger (x2)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Quiver'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Quarrels (20)'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Dry Rations (3 days)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Waterskin'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Thieves Picks'''
|'''''1 lb'''''
|-
|'''Total'''
|'''''19.5 lbs'''''
|-
|}

== Languages ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Common'''
|-
|'''Vox Mercanti'''
|-
|'''Thieves' Cant'''
|-
|}

== Background ==
[[File:zzDaritheL.jpg]]

She stared at her reflection in the mirror for a long time. The red hair would take some getting used to. The shorn locks of her previously long tresses less so, as that frequently just got in the way of her skills. No sign of her Da's dark hair now, the only part she truly inherited from him. Just as the freckles across her pale features came from her mother. Her hands were near as red as the hair stained from the dye. Somehow that seemed apt. She scrubbed the dye from her hands in the washbasin. At least that stain could be washed away...

Darithe Thorne was her name now. Once she had been Meav Delte, the daughter of a blacksmith in the town of Belies-ar-Weil, located mid-way along the coast of Athervon between Avis Inia, the seat of the Kingdom, to the North, and Avis Armois, the oldest and most far-flung of the Kingdom’s major cities, to the South. Her father was as dumb as the anvil he pounded everyday, but he was kind and had a ready smile, and was gentle with his young daughters Meav and her sister Vari. He did his best to support his two daughters on what little income he could make from shoeing horses and hammering out crude nails to build the rickety buildings in this poor section of town.

Their mother passed from a fever when Vari was five. Meav was three years older and did the best she could for her Da and young sister. She took care of them and when money was short she did what she had to for a few more coins to add to their larder. She helped in the smithy as much as she could and took care of delivering special orders for her Da. She found with a pretty smile she would sometimes even get tips, not much, but everything helped. She was poor but she was bright. She quickly picked up some smithing skills from her father and taught herself to read and write, which was rare for the people from her part of town.

Belis-ar-Weil was neither particularly large nor particularly small; but it held a strategic location at the mouth of the Aumine river, which carried the riches of the Kingdom’s interior to the sea, where it was then sent to either Avis Inia or Avis Armois for final destinations. Due to this vast amount of traffic in lucrative goods, the town had more than its fair share of criminal element, intent on skimming some of the proceeds for themselves. While there were a number of gangs that operated around the town, all paid their respects to the notorious Five Points Brotherhood. The Brotherhood was a huge network of Thieves that had bases over nearly the entire Kingdom – at least, that was what was said. Based out of the Capitol, The Brotherhood controlled virtually all the illegal traffic flowing on the land route between Avis Inia and Tras Veniri, and had a heavy hand in distribution to points beyond inside of Athervon. No one of sane mind crossed The Brotherhood – their operatives and informants were everywhere, and they did not hesitate to deal with problems that threatened their profitable position.

Meav had never planned to join them. To the contrary, she had always steered clear of the young gangs of new recruits, and ignored their catcalls, offers, and sometimes threats as she made her deliveries in town – that she could deal with. What really made her pick up her pace was the way one of the older members – a street captain known as Dregs – looked at her. He didn’t seem to be looking at the pretty young woman with leering eyes and lustful sneers like the others. No, Dregs always seemed to be assessing whether she might be useful to him, whether she could be an asset to his operation. His cold gaze watched her every time she passed, but he never said a thing – just gave a slight touch to his cap in greeting after their eyes met, and then turned back to his business.

She choked back a laugh thinking about it now.

She managed to keep things on an even keel until her 17th year. That was the year her Da passed – walking home at night after the neighborhood innkeeper had rewarded him with a few pints for some emergency repairs to some of his stable equipment, he must’ve never seen the horseman, riding at a full gallop along the dark road. She ran out at the sounds and screams to see him lying in the mud, blood beginning to form a small pool around him. The rider never stopped, disappearing into the darkness.

After Da was in the ground, she assessed the situation, and realized something had to give. She didn't see herself or Vari swinging a hammer to make a living. She retched at the thought of some of the things women did for coin near the docks – she would die before that became her fate. Then the faces of the gang captains came to her – that cold gaze, assessing her. Perhaps she could be of use to them.

She had no idea how to initiate a conversation about this, but her mind was made up. She walked directly up to Dregs through the crowd of his young proteges, the blood that was pounding in her ears drowning out their infantile suggestions and insults.

“I need some work.” She blurted it out without even knowing it. She held her breath waiting for him to speak.

For a moment, he didn’t – just looked at her again with the same cold eyes.

Finally, he spoke. “B’out time. Let’s get ya to Fergasse, see what he has fer ya.” His voice was rough, thin, fitting his grizzled appearance perfectly. She realized it was the first time she had ever heard it.

Fergasse was the local Master of The Brotherhood, overseeing their operations in the town. If he had ever been a working thief, there was no way to tell now – he was a very fat man, who spent more time overseeing account books than picking pockets. But he was the ordained boss for The Brotherhood in town, and he did not need to worry about his girth – there were plenty of fit gang members who would take care of any of Fergasse’s problems.

Dregs brought her to a warehouse by the docks, one she had always been warned to stay away from by Ma & Da. She had to pass by room after room of intimidating looking men, and one even patted her down and felt her up making sure she didn’t have a weapon. Finally she was in Fergasse’s “office”, a large room filled with boxes, bags, sacks, barrels, crates, chests, and every manner of thing used to transport goods – as well as piles and piles of leather-bound books: ship’s journals, logs, account books, inventory scrolls. Fergasse supervised a small army of men moving things in and out while another army was copying and modifying books, writing so fast they were sweating. Fergasse’s eye flicked to her after Dreg was able to whisper something in his ear, and he spat something back she didn’t hear, before he turned back to conducting the mayhem in the room.

Dreg took her back to her place and told her how it would work. She would start just doing "special deliveries" and watching for the town guard who's eyes were easily distracted by a lithe darkhaired lass. It was easy work for the most part, and she was good at it – folks knew her Da was gone, and men circled her like buzzards if she gave them the chance, wanting to be there when her finances or her will finally broke.

But those tasks weren't enough to support her and Vari; soon, she was pestering Dreg for bigger opportunity. Happy with her performance, he graduated her to more advanced work for the guild.

She took to the tasks like a bird to the air. It excited her. It gave her freedom from the drudgery of the smithy. And the coins to be had (earned?) were greater than she had ever seen. Though just eighteen by then, she quickly became a rising star in the guild. Soon enough, Dregs re-introduced her to Fergasse at the Bosses’ request. Fergasse wanted to have a look at this new recruit who was making him so much money.

As Fergasse spoke about the impression she had made, and that if she played her cards right she could have a bright future in The Brotherhood, she noticed a young man lounging back on a pile of grain sacks, staring at her with dark, hooded eyes. She had seen that stare before, but she was not that person anymore. She ignored the look, her lip curling into a mild sneer to express her disinterest.

After the meeting was over, she asked Dregs about the man. “Eh? On the sacks? Ach, thas Dany – Fergasse’s boyo. What ye’want wit him? Oh ya? Fancy’s ya does he? Well, ya be careful lass – that boyo’s got more problems than the Emperor of Jhon, he does – and he’ll make’em your problems if ya let ‘im. Best steer clear of ‘im, stay focused on yer work. He’s trouble if you like ‘im – but he’s also trouble if ya don’t, if ya take my meaning. Don’t make Fergasse choose between yas.”

She learned from others that Dany was an addict – he smoked the seeds from the Jhonian mazak plant, which generated the dark circles around his eyes and the vacant stare.

She heeded Dregs advice and made every attempt to avoid Dany. But to her dismay, Dany had other ideas. Apparently infatuated by her, he began hanging out in her neighborhood, repeatedly offering to buy her dinner, drinks, or to join him in a harmless smoke. She rebuffed him – gently, carefully, always saying that she had something to get done for his father. More than once she had to signal Dregs to intercept them and provide an escape. She began to stay away from the house more – Vari had enough money and was getting old enough to take care of herself and most of the chores at home while Meav earned their keep.

She used the time to hone her skills every day and the exciting life on the edge became like a drug to her. What started as a tactic to avoid Dany soon became a need to spend more and more time finding ways to complete the jobs allotted to her in the most impressive way possible. Vari was left to fend for herself as Meav was gone more and more, but Meav told herself Vari would have to learn to manage the home at some point, which assuaged her guilt at not being home with her sister.

One night, exhausted from nearly two solid days of casing a new ship that had arrived, she came home and found Vari in her bed – with Dany lying next to her. From the look of it, they had apparently been celebrating for days – there were clothes and half-eaten meals everywhere. The bitter-sweet smell of mazak hit her nostrils, and she noticed several pipes were strewn about, full of the dark tarry residue the drug leaves.

Meav was incensed – Vari had ruined everything! Now what was she going to do?

She carefully stepped over Dany and shook Vari, whispering for her to get up. But the girl remained prone, motionless. She shook harder, finally pulling her hard and flipping her over – to recoil in horror as the wide, sightless eyes of her sister stared back at her from dark hooded sockets, the open lips tinged blue.

Meav stumbled back against the wall, her heart pounding. She couldn’t think. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

She started as Dany mumbled something and rolled over onto one arm, lifting himself up on his elbow. His heavy-lidded eyes revealed he was still in the throes of the drug. He reached out to Vari, touching the dead girls arm. A minute later, a giggle erupted from him.

“I told…told you. You got to…to work up to…to it. Can’t be doing what I do. Sil…silly…girl.”

He flopped down, finally noticing Meav. “Oh…hey. You’re here. That’s great – I really was interested in you more anyway.” His eyes fluttered closed again, and he resumed gently snoring.

That day Meav picked up her Da's hammer for the last time in doing so ended her time in the guild, and guildmaster's son's life.

She looked once more in the mirror. Meav was dead, and Darithe reborn from her ashes. A dark phoenix for sure. She gathered her meager belongs and wrapped herself in her father oversized cloak and started outside. She glanced once more back at the smithy and then was gone. She walked on leaving the past behind.

A new town then, one where she is unknown. A place to disappear. The further from The Brotherhood, the better. Getting on a ship was too dangerous – The Brotherhood controlled the river and sea trade, she would be seen and her suspicious departure noted, if not prevented altogether. No, she had to leave by land.

In the dark of night, she stole down the South Road, which followed the coast all the way to Avis Armois. Far from the Capitol, perhaps there she could shake pursuit long enough to come up with a more long-term plan. The Mire Queen now beckoned to her which seemed appropriate somehow having become mired herself. As she walked she whispered a soft prayer (to whom she did not know) for forgiveness. But in her heart she knew forgiveness was reserved for those who deserved it.

The best steel doesn't always shine the brightest. Her da had taught her that and she thought of him as she walked south towards Avis Armois, the greatcloak wrapped around her due to the cool of the morn. She could still faintly smell him on it and those smells were comforting, almost as if he still embraced her in the folds of that big cloak. She breathed them in and smiled thinking of him, the pungent smell of the corrosive oils he used to clean his tools were there, and the pleasant smokey aroma of the coals of his forge still clung to the threads, and the musky smell of sweat after a good hard day of honest... She stopped abruptly and bit her lower lip. She sighed, the past is written. She could not change it no matter how much she wished to. But the future is a blank page. And that she could write.

She spotted a small family going in the opposite direction approaching, a young man, his pretty wife and two small girls tugging at their parent's cloaks. She smiled and nodded to them as their paths crossed. Her mind calling back memories of her own youth and her sister Vari. She turned and caught back up to the family offering them most of her fruit. It wouldn't last long and she knew she couldn't eat it all before it went bad. She kept a stem of grapes for herself and waved to them as they continued their journey farther away from her. She returned to the path she had chosen and walked on alone.

File:ZZDarithe2L.jpg

2021-01-01T20:00:59Z

Darithe:

File:ZZDarithe2C.jpg

2021-01-01T20:00:33Z

Darithe:

Landsoftheblacksea:Main Page/players/danithe thorne

2020-12-22T00:23:19Z

Darithe: /* Nonweapon Proficiencies */

[[ Landsoftheblacksea:Main_Page#Player_Characters | '''Return to the Main Page''']]

A woman running from her past and perhaps seeking redemption.

[[File:zzDaritheC.jpg | thumb]]

== Basics ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Character Name !! Player Name !! Race !! Class !! Alignment !! AC !! Experience !! Hit Points
|-
| Darithe Thorne (Meav Delte) || Desconocida || Human || Thief 2 || Chaotic Good || 7 (With Dex Adj) || 1250|| 8
|-
|}
== Physical ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Age !! Height !! Weight !! Eye Colour !! Hair Colour
|-
| 19 || 5'6" || 110 lbs || Light Green || Red (Natural color Black)
|}
== Stats ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:left"
|-
| Strength || '''11''' || ''Wt. Allowance: 40#; Max Press: 115#; Open Doors: 6; Bend Bars: 2%''
|-
| Dexterity || '''17''' || ''+2 React. Adj; +2 Missile Att. Adj.; -3 Def. Adj.''
|-
| Constitution || '''12''' || ''Sys. Shock: 80%; Res. Surv: 85%''
|-
| Intelligence || '''14''' || ''#Lang: 4''
|-
| Wisdom || '''10''' ||
|-
| Charisma || '''16''' || ''Mx. Hench: 8; Loy. Base: +4; Reac. Adj.: +5''
|-
|}

+10% XP Bonus

== Saving Throws ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Paralyzation/Poison/Death Magic !! Rod, Staff or Wand !! Petrification or Plymorph !! Breath Weapon !! Spell
|-
|| 13 || 14 || 13 || 15 || 12
|}
== Weapon Proficiencies ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Dagger'''
|-
|'''Hand Crossbow'''
|-
|}
== Nonweapon Proficiencies ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Blacksmithing (11)'''
|-
|'''Cooking (14)'''
|-
|'''Healing (8)'''
|-
|'''Herbalism (12)'''
|-
|'''Swimming (11)'''
|-
|'''Tumbling (17)'''
|-
|}

== Thieves Abilities ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
| '''Pick Pockets''' || 15% + 5% (DEX) + 5% (no armor) =25% ||
|-
| '''Open Locks''' || 30% + 10% (DEX) = 40% ||
|-
| '''Find/Remove Traps''' || 25% ||
|-
| '''Move Silently''' || 30% + 5% (DEX) + 10% (no armor) = 45% || Movement reduced to 1/3
|-
| '''Hide in Shadows''' || 35% + 5% (DEX) + 5% (no armor) = 45% ||
|-
| '''Detect Noise''' || 15% ||
|-
| '''Climb Walls''' || 60% + 10% (no armor) = 70% ||
|-
| '''Read Languages''' || 0% ||
|-
|}

== Encumbrance ==
{| class="wikitable"
|'''Unencumbered'''
|'''''0-40'''''
|-
|'''Light'''
|'''''41-58'''''
|-
|'''Moderate'''
|'''''59-76'''''
|-
|'''Heavy'''
|'''''77-96'''''
|-
|'''Severe'''
|'''''97-110'''''
|-
|}
== Equipment ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Clothing'''
|'''''5 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Backpack'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Small pouch'''
|'''''0.5 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Hand Crossbow'''
|'''''3 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Dagger (x2)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|-style="color: blue"
|'''Dwarven made Dagger (x2)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Quiver'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Quarrels (20)'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Dry Rations (3 days)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Waterskin'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Thieves Picks'''
|'''''1 lb'''''
|-
|'''Total'''
|'''''19.5 lbs'''''
|-
|}

== Languages ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Common'''
|-
|'''Vox Mercanti'''
|-
|'''Thieves' Cant'''
|-
|}

== Background ==
[[File:zzDaritheL.jpg]]

She stared at her reflection in the mirror for a long time. The red hair would take some getting used to. The shorn locks of her previously long tresses less so, as that frequently just got in the way of her skills. No sign of her Da's dark hair now, the only part she truly inherited from him. Just as the freckles across her pale features came from her mother. Her hands were near as red as the hair stained from the dye. Somehow that seemed apt. She scrubbed the dye from her hands in the washbasin. At least that stain could be washed away...

Darithe Thorne was her name now. Once she had been Meav Delte, the daughter of a blacksmith in the town of Belies-ar-Weil, located mid-way along the coast of Athervon between Avis Inia, the seat of the Kingdom, to the North, and Avis Armois, the oldest and most far-flung of the Kingdom’s major cities, to the South. Her father was as dumb as the anvil he pounded everyday, but he was kind and had a ready smile, and was gentle with his young daughters Meav and her sister Vari. He did his best to support his two daughters on what little income he could make from shoeing horses and hammering out crude nails to build the rickety buildings in this poor section of town.

Their mother passed from a fever when Vari was five. Meav was three years older and did the best she could for her Da and young sister. She took care of them and when money was short she did what she had to for a few more coins to add to their larder. She helped in the smithy as much as she could and took care of delivering special orders for her Da. She found with a pretty smile she would sometimes even get tips, not much, but everything helped. She was poor but she was bright. She quickly picked up some smithing skills from her father and taught herself to read and write, which was rare for the people from her part of town.

Belis-ar-Weil was neither particularly large nor particularly small; but it held a strategic location at the mouth of the Aumine river, which carried the riches of the Kingdom’s interior to the sea, where it was then sent to either Avis Inia or Avis Armois for final destinations. Due to this vast amount of traffic in lucrative goods, the town had more than its fair share of criminal element, intent on skimming some of the proceeds for themselves. While there were a number of gangs that operated around the town, all paid their respects to the notorious Five Points Brotherhood. The Brotherhood was a huge network of Thieves that had bases over nearly the entire Kingdom – at least, that was what was said. Based out of the Capitol, The Brotherhood controlled virtually all the illegal traffic flowing on the land route between Avis Inia and Tras Veniri, and had a heavy hand in distribution to points beyond inside of Athervon. No one of sane mind crossed The Brotherhood – their operatives and informants were everywhere, and they did not hesitate to deal with problems that threatened their profitable position.

Meav had never planned to join them. To the contrary, she had always steered clear of the young gangs of new recruits, and ignored their catcalls, offers, and sometimes threats as she made her deliveries in town – that she could deal with. What really made her pick up her pace was the way one of the older members – a street captain known as Dregs – looked at her. He didn’t seem to be looking at the pretty young woman with leering eyes and lustful sneers like the others. No, Dregs always seemed to be assessing whether she might be useful to him, whether she could be an asset to his operation. His cold gaze watched her every time she passed, but he never said a thing – just gave a slight touch to his cap in greeting after their eyes met, and then turned back to his business.

She choked back a laugh thinking about it now.

She managed to keep things on an even keel until her 17th year. That was the year her Da passed – walking home at night after the neighborhood innkeeper had rewarded him with a few pints for some emergency repairs to some of his stable equipment, he must’ve never seen the horseman, riding at a full gallop along the dark road. She ran out at the sounds and screams to see him lying in the mud, blood beginning to form a small pool around him. The rider never stopped, disappearing into the darkness.

After Da was in the ground, she assessed the situation, and realized something had to give. She didn't see herself or Vari swinging a hammer to make a living. She retched at the thought of some of the things women did for coin near the docks – she would die before that became her fate. Then the faces of the gang captains came to her – that cold gaze, assessing her. Perhaps she could be of use to them.

She had no idea how to initiate a conversation about this, but her mind was made up. She walked directly up to Dregs through the crowd of his young proteges, the blood that was pounding in her ears drowning out their infantile suggestions and insults.

“I need some work.” She blurted it out without even knowing it. She held her breath waiting for him to speak.

For a moment, he didn’t – just looked at her again with the same cold eyes.

Finally, he spoke. “B’out time. Let’s get ya to Fergasse, see what he has fer ya.” His voice was rough, thin, fitting his grizzled appearance perfectly. She realized it was the first time she had ever heard it.

Fergasse was the local Master of The Brotherhood, overseeing their operations in the town. If he had ever been a working thief, there was no way to tell now – he was a very fat man, who spent more time overseeing account books than picking pockets. But he was the ordained boss for The Brotherhood in town, and he did not need to worry about his girth – there were plenty of fit gang members who would take care of any of Fergasse’s problems.

Dregs brought her to a warehouse by the docks, one she had always been warned to stay away from by Ma & Da. She had to pass by room after room of intimidating looking men, and one even patted her down and felt her up making sure she didn’t have a weapon. Finally she was in Fergasse’s “office”, a large room filled with boxes, bags, sacks, barrels, crates, chests, and every manner of thing used to transport goods – as well as piles and piles of leather-bound books: ship’s journals, logs, account books, inventory scrolls. Fergasse supervised a small army of men moving things in and out while another army was copying and modifying books, writing so fast they were sweating. Fergasse’s eye flicked to her after Dreg was able to whisper something in his ear, and he spat something back she didn’t hear, before he turned back to conducting the mayhem in the room.

Dreg took her back to her place and told her how it would work. She would start just doing "special deliveries" and watching for the town guard who's eyes were easily distracted by a lithe darkhaired lass. It was easy work for the most part, and she was good at it – folks knew her Da was gone, and men circled her like buzzards if she gave them the chance, wanting to be there when her finances or her will finally broke.

But those tasks weren't enough to support her and Vari; soon, she was pestering Dreg for bigger opportunity. Happy with her performance, he graduated her to more advanced work for the guild.

She took to the tasks like a bird to the air. It excited her. It gave her freedom from the drudgery of the smithy. And the coins to be had (earned?) were greater than she had ever seen. Though just eighteen by then, she quickly became a rising star in the guild. Soon enough, Dregs re-introduced her to Fergasse at the Bosses’ request. Fergasse wanted to have a look at this new recruit who was making him so much money.

As Fergasse spoke about the impression she had made, and that if she played her cards right she could have a bright future in The Brotherhood, she noticed a young man lounging back on a pile of grain sacks, staring at her with dark, hooded eyes. She had seen that stare before, but she was not that person anymore. She ignored the look, her lip curling into a mild sneer to express her disinterest.

After the meeting was over, she asked Dregs about the man. “Eh? On the sacks? Ach, thas Dany – Fergasse’s boyo. What ye’want wit him? Oh ya? Fancy’s ya does he? Well, ya be careful lass – that boyo’s got more problems than the Emperor of Jhon, he does – and he’ll make’em your problems if ya let ‘im. Best steer clear of ‘im, stay focused on yer work. He’s trouble if you like ‘im – but he’s also trouble if ya don’t, if ya take my meaning. Don’t make Fergasse choose between yas.”

She learned from others that Dany was an addict – he smoked the seeds from the Jhonian mazak plant, which generated the dark circles around his eyes and the vacant stare.

She heeded Dregs advice and made every attempt to avoid Dany. But to her dismay, Dany had other ideas. Apparently infatuated by her, he began hanging out in her neighborhood, repeatedly offering to buy her dinner, drinks, or to join him in a harmless smoke. She rebuffed him – gently, carefully, always saying that she had something to get done for his father. More than once she had to signal Dregs to intercept them and provide an escape. She began to stay away from the house more – Vari had enough money and was getting old enough to take care of herself and most of the chores at home while Meav earned their keep.

She used the time to hone her skills every day and the exciting life on the edge became like a drug to her. What started as a tactic to avoid Dany soon became a need to spend more and more time finding ways to complete the jobs allotted to her in the most impressive way possible. Vari was left to fend for herself as Meav was gone more and more, but Meav told herself Vari would have to learn to manage the home at some point, which assuaged her guilt at not being home with her sister.

One night, exhausted from nearly two solid days of casing a new ship that had arrived, she came home and found Vari in her bed – with Dany lying next to her. From the look of it, they had apparently been celebrating for days – there were clothes and half-eaten meals everywhere. The bitter-sweet smell of mazak hit her nostrils, and she noticed several pipes were strewn about, full of the dark tarry residue the drug leaves.

Meav was incensed – Vari had ruined everything! Now what was she going to do?

She carefully stepped over Dany and shook Vari, whispering for her to get up. But the girl remained prone, motionless. She shook harder, finally pulling her hard and flipping her over – to recoil in horror as the wide, sightless eyes of her sister stared back at her from dark hooded sockets, the open lips tinged blue.

Meav stumbled back against the wall, her heart pounding. She couldn’t think. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

She started as Dany mumbled something and rolled over onto one arm, lifting himself up on his elbow. His heavy-lidded eyes revealed he was still in the throes of the drug. He reached out to Vari, touching the dead girls arm. A minute later, a giggle erupted from him.

“I told…told you. You got to…to work up to…to it. Can’t be doing what I do. Sil…silly…girl.”

He flopped down, finally noticing Meav. “Oh…hey. You’re here. That’s great – I really was interested in you more anyway.” His eyes fluttered closed again, and he resumed gently snoring.

That day Meav picked up her Da's hammer for the last time in doing so ended her time in the guild, and guildmaster's son's life.

She looked once more in the mirror. Meav was dead, and Darithe reborn from her ashes. A dark phoenix for sure. She gathered her meager belongs and wrapped herself in her father oversized cloak and started outside. She glanced once more back at the smithy and then was gone. She walked on leaving the past behind.

A new town then, one where she is unknown. A place to disappear. The further from The Brotherhood, the better. Getting on a ship was too dangerous – The Brotherhood controlled the river and sea trade, she would be seen and her suspicious departure noted, if not prevented altogether. No, she had to leave by land.

In the dark of night, she stole down the South Road, which followed the coast all the way to Avis Armois. Far from the Capitol, perhaps there she could shake pursuit long enough to come up with a more long-term plan. The Mire Queen now beckoned to her which seemed appropriate somehow having become mired herself. As she walked she whispered a soft prayer (to whom she did not know) for forgiveness. But in her heart she knew forgiveness was reserved for those who deserved it.

The best steel doesn't always shine the brightest. Her da had taught her that and she thought of him as she walked south towards Avis Armois, the greatcloak wrapped around her due to the cool of the morn. She could still faintly smell him on it and those smells were comforting, almost as if he still embraced her in the folds of that big cloak. She breathed them in and smiled thinking of him, the pungent smell of the corrosive oils he used to clean his tools were there, and the pleasant smokey aroma of the coals of his forge still clung to the threads, and the musky smell of sweat after a good hard day of honest... She stopped abruptly and bit her lower lip. She sighed, the past is written. She could not change it no matter how much she wished to. But the future is a blank page. And that she could write.

She spotted a small family going in the opposite direction approaching, a young man, his pretty wife and two small girls tugging at their parent's cloaks. She smiled and nodded to them as their paths crossed. Her mind calling back memories of her own youth and her sister Vari. She turned and caught back up to the family offering them most of her fruit. It wouldn't last long and she knew she couldn't eat it all before it went bad. She kept a stem of grapes for herself and waved to them as they continued their journey farther away from her. She returned to the path she had chosen and walked on alone.

Landsoftheblacksea:Main Page/players/danithe thorne

2020-12-22T00:21:16Z

Darithe: /* Nonweapon Proficiencies */

[[ Landsoftheblacksea:Main_Page#Player_Characters | '''Return to the Main Page''']]

A woman running from her past and perhaps seeking redemption.

[[File:zzDaritheC.jpg | thumb]]

== Basics ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Character Name !! Player Name !! Race !! Class !! Alignment !! AC !! Experience !! Hit Points
|-
| Darithe Thorne (Meav Delte) || Desconocida || Human || Thief 2 || Chaotic Good || 7 (With Dex Adj) || 1250|| 8
|-
|}
== Physical ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Age !! Height !! Weight !! Eye Colour !! Hair Colour
|-
| 19 || 5'6" || 110 lbs || Light Green || Red (Natural color Black)
|}
== Stats ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:left"
|-
| Strength || '''11''' || ''Wt. Allowance: 40#; Max Press: 115#; Open Doors: 6; Bend Bars: 2%''
|-
| Dexterity || '''17''' || ''+2 React. Adj; +2 Missile Att. Adj.; -3 Def. Adj.''
|-
| Constitution || '''12''' || ''Sys. Shock: 80%; Res. Surv: 85%''
|-
| Intelligence || '''14''' || ''#Lang: 4''
|-
| Wisdom || '''10''' ||
|-
| Charisma || '''16''' || ''Mx. Hench: 8; Loy. Base: +4; Reac. Adj.: +5''
|-
|}

+10% XP Bonus

== Saving Throws ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Paralyzation/Poison/Death Magic !! Rod, Staff or Wand !! Petrification or Plymorph !! Breath Weapon !! Spell
|-
|| 13 || 14 || 13 || 15 || 12
|}
== Weapon Proficiencies ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Dagger'''
|-
|'''Hand Crossbow'''
|-
|}
== Nonweapon Proficiencies ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Blacksmithing (11)'''
|-
|'''Cooking (14)'''
|-
|'''Healing ('''
|-
|'''Swimming (11)'''
|-
|'''Tumbling (17)'''
|-
|}

== Thieves Abilities ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
| '''Pick Pockets''' || 15% + 5% (DEX) + 5% (no armor) =25% ||
|-
| '''Open Locks''' || 30% + 10% (DEX) = 40% ||
|-
| '''Find/Remove Traps''' || 25% ||
|-
| '''Move Silently''' || 30% + 5% (DEX) + 10% (no armor) = 45% || Movement reduced to 1/3
|-
| '''Hide in Shadows''' || 35% + 5% (DEX) + 5% (no armor) = 45% ||
|-
| '''Detect Noise''' || 15% ||
|-
| '''Climb Walls''' || 60% + 10% (no armor) = 70% ||
|-
| '''Read Languages''' || 0% ||
|-
|}

== Encumbrance ==
{| class="wikitable"
|'''Unencumbered'''
|'''''0-40'''''
|-
|'''Light'''
|'''''41-58'''''
|-
|'''Moderate'''
|'''''59-76'''''
|-
|'''Heavy'''
|'''''77-96'''''
|-
|'''Severe'''
|'''''97-110'''''
|-
|}
== Equipment ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Clothing'''
|'''''5 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Backpack'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Small pouch'''
|'''''0.5 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Hand Crossbow'''
|'''''3 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Dagger (x2)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|-style="color: blue"
|'''Dwarven made Dagger (x2)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Quiver'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Quarrels (20)'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Dry Rations (3 days)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Waterskin'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Thieves Picks'''
|'''''1 lb'''''
|-
|'''Total'''
|'''''19.5 lbs'''''
|-
|}

== Languages ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Common'''
|-
|'''Vox Mercanti'''
|-
|'''Thieves' Cant'''
|-
|}

== Background ==
[[File:zzDaritheL.jpg]]

She stared at her reflection in the mirror for a long time. The red hair would take some getting used to. The shorn locks of her previously long tresses less so, as that frequently just got in the way of her skills. No sign of her Da's dark hair now, the only part she truly inherited from him. Just as the freckles across her pale features came from her mother. Her hands were near as red as the hair stained from the dye. Somehow that seemed apt. She scrubbed the dye from her hands in the washbasin. At least that stain could be washed away...

Darithe Thorne was her name now. Once she had been Meav Delte, the daughter of a blacksmith in the town of Belies-ar-Weil, located mid-way along the coast of Athervon between Avis Inia, the seat of the Kingdom, to the North, and Avis Armois, the oldest and most far-flung of the Kingdom’s major cities, to the South. Her father was as dumb as the anvil he pounded everyday, but he was kind and had a ready smile, and was gentle with his young daughters Meav and her sister Vari. He did his best to support his two daughters on what little income he could make from shoeing horses and hammering out crude nails to build the rickety buildings in this poor section of town.

Their mother passed from a fever when Vari was five. Meav was three years older and did the best she could for her Da and young sister. She took care of them and when money was short she did what she had to for a few more coins to add to their larder. She helped in the smithy as much as she could and took care of delivering special orders for her Da. She found with a pretty smile she would sometimes even get tips, not much, but everything helped. She was poor but she was bright. She quickly picked up some smithing skills from her father and taught herself to read and write, which was rare for the people from her part of town.

Belis-ar-Weil was neither particularly large nor particularly small; but it held a strategic location at the mouth of the Aumine river, which carried the riches of the Kingdom’s interior to the sea, where it was then sent to either Avis Inia or Avis Armois for final destinations. Due to this vast amount of traffic in lucrative goods, the town had more than its fair share of criminal element, intent on skimming some of the proceeds for themselves. While there were a number of gangs that operated around the town, all paid their respects to the notorious Five Points Brotherhood. The Brotherhood was a huge network of Thieves that had bases over nearly the entire Kingdom – at least, that was what was said. Based out of the Capitol, The Brotherhood controlled virtually all the illegal traffic flowing on the land route between Avis Inia and Tras Veniri, and had a heavy hand in distribution to points beyond inside of Athervon. No one of sane mind crossed The Brotherhood – their operatives and informants were everywhere, and they did not hesitate to deal with problems that threatened their profitable position.

Meav had never planned to join them. To the contrary, she had always steered clear of the young gangs of new recruits, and ignored their catcalls, offers, and sometimes threats as she made her deliveries in town – that she could deal with. What really made her pick up her pace was the way one of the older members – a street captain known as Dregs – looked at her. He didn’t seem to be looking at the pretty young woman with leering eyes and lustful sneers like the others. No, Dregs always seemed to be assessing whether she might be useful to him, whether she could be an asset to his operation. His cold gaze watched her every time she passed, but he never said a thing – just gave a slight touch to his cap in greeting after their eyes met, and then turned back to his business.

She choked back a laugh thinking about it now.

She managed to keep things on an even keel until her 17th year. That was the year her Da passed – walking home at night after the neighborhood innkeeper had rewarded him with a few pints for some emergency repairs to some of his stable equipment, he must’ve never seen the horseman, riding at a full gallop along the dark road. She ran out at the sounds and screams to see him lying in the mud, blood beginning to form a small pool around him. The rider never stopped, disappearing into the darkness.

After Da was in the ground, she assessed the situation, and realized something had to give. She didn't see herself or Vari swinging a hammer to make a living. She retched at the thought of some of the things women did for coin near the docks – she would die before that became her fate. Then the faces of the gang captains came to her – that cold gaze, assessing her. Perhaps she could be of use to them.

She had no idea how to initiate a conversation about this, but her mind was made up. She walked directly up to Dregs through the crowd of his young proteges, the blood that was pounding in her ears drowning out their infantile suggestions and insults.

“I need some work.” She blurted it out without even knowing it. She held her breath waiting for him to speak.

For a moment, he didn’t – just looked at her again with the same cold eyes.

Finally, he spoke. “B’out time. Let’s get ya to Fergasse, see what he has fer ya.” His voice was rough, thin, fitting his grizzled appearance perfectly. She realized it was the first time she had ever heard it.

Fergasse was the local Master of The Brotherhood, overseeing their operations in the town. If he had ever been a working thief, there was no way to tell now – he was a very fat man, who spent more time overseeing account books than picking pockets. But he was the ordained boss for The Brotherhood in town, and he did not need to worry about his girth – there were plenty of fit gang members who would take care of any of Fergasse’s problems.

Dregs brought her to a warehouse by the docks, one she had always been warned to stay away from by Ma & Da. She had to pass by room after room of intimidating looking men, and one even patted her down and felt her up making sure she didn’t have a weapon. Finally she was in Fergasse’s “office”, a large room filled with boxes, bags, sacks, barrels, crates, chests, and every manner of thing used to transport goods – as well as piles and piles of leather-bound books: ship’s journals, logs, account books, inventory scrolls. Fergasse supervised a small army of men moving things in and out while another army was copying and modifying books, writing so fast they were sweating. Fergasse’s eye flicked to her after Dreg was able to whisper something in his ear, and he spat something back she didn’t hear, before he turned back to conducting the mayhem in the room.

Dreg took her back to her place and told her how it would work. She would start just doing "special deliveries" and watching for the town guard who's eyes were easily distracted by a lithe darkhaired lass. It was easy work for the most part, and she was good at it – folks knew her Da was gone, and men circled her like buzzards if she gave them the chance, wanting to be there when her finances or her will finally broke.

But those tasks weren't enough to support her and Vari; soon, she was pestering Dreg for bigger opportunity. Happy with her performance, he graduated her to more advanced work for the guild.

She took to the tasks like a bird to the air. It excited her. It gave her freedom from the drudgery of the smithy. And the coins to be had (earned?) were greater than she had ever seen. Though just eighteen by then, she quickly became a rising star in the guild. Soon enough, Dregs re-introduced her to Fergasse at the Bosses’ request. Fergasse wanted to have a look at this new recruit who was making him so much money.

As Fergasse spoke about the impression she had made, and that if she played her cards right she could have a bright future in The Brotherhood, she noticed a young man lounging back on a pile of grain sacks, staring at her with dark, hooded eyes. She had seen that stare before, but she was not that person anymore. She ignored the look, her lip curling into a mild sneer to express her disinterest.

After the meeting was over, she asked Dregs about the man. “Eh? On the sacks? Ach, thas Dany – Fergasse’s boyo. What ye’want wit him? Oh ya? Fancy’s ya does he? Well, ya be careful lass – that boyo’s got more problems than the Emperor of Jhon, he does – and he’ll make’em your problems if ya let ‘im. Best steer clear of ‘im, stay focused on yer work. He’s trouble if you like ‘im – but he’s also trouble if ya don’t, if ya take my meaning. Don’t make Fergasse choose between yas.”

She learned from others that Dany was an addict – he smoked the seeds from the Jhonian mazak plant, which generated the dark circles around his eyes and the vacant stare.

She heeded Dregs advice and made every attempt to avoid Dany. But to her dismay, Dany had other ideas. Apparently infatuated by her, he began hanging out in her neighborhood, repeatedly offering to buy her dinner, drinks, or to join him in a harmless smoke. She rebuffed him – gently, carefully, always saying that she had something to get done for his father. More than once she had to signal Dregs to intercept them and provide an escape. She began to stay away from the house more – Vari had enough money and was getting old enough to take care of herself and most of the chores at home while Meav earned their keep.

She used the time to hone her skills every day and the exciting life on the edge became like a drug to her. What started as a tactic to avoid Dany soon became a need to spend more and more time finding ways to complete the jobs allotted to her in the most impressive way possible. Vari was left to fend for herself as Meav was gone more and more, but Meav told herself Vari would have to learn to manage the home at some point, which assuaged her guilt at not being home with her sister.

One night, exhausted from nearly two solid days of casing a new ship that had arrived, she came home and found Vari in her bed – with Dany lying next to her. From the look of it, they had apparently been celebrating for days – there were clothes and half-eaten meals everywhere. The bitter-sweet smell of mazak hit her nostrils, and she noticed several pipes were strewn about, full of the dark tarry residue the drug leaves.

Meav was incensed – Vari had ruined everything! Now what was she going to do?

She carefully stepped over Dany and shook Vari, whispering for her to get up. But the girl remained prone, motionless. She shook harder, finally pulling her hard and flipping her over – to recoil in horror as the wide, sightless eyes of her sister stared back at her from dark hooded sockets, the open lips tinged blue.

Meav stumbled back against the wall, her heart pounding. She couldn’t think. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

She started as Dany mumbled something and rolled over onto one arm, lifting himself up on his elbow. His heavy-lidded eyes revealed he was still in the throes of the drug. He reached out to Vari, touching the dead girls arm. A minute later, a giggle erupted from him.

“I told…told you. You got to…to work up to…to it. Can’t be doing what I do. Sil…silly…girl.”

He flopped down, finally noticing Meav. “Oh…hey. You’re here. That’s great – I really was interested in you more anyway.” His eyes fluttered closed again, and he resumed gently snoring.

That day Meav picked up her Da's hammer for the last time in doing so ended her time in the guild, and guildmaster's son's life.

She looked once more in the mirror. Meav was dead, and Darithe reborn from her ashes. A dark phoenix for sure. She gathered her meager belongs and wrapped herself in her father oversized cloak and started outside. She glanced once more back at the smithy and then was gone. She walked on leaving the past behind.

A new town then, one where she is unknown. A place to disappear. The further from The Brotherhood, the better. Getting on a ship was too dangerous – The Brotherhood controlled the river and sea trade, she would be seen and her suspicious departure noted, if not prevented altogether. No, she had to leave by land.

In the dark of night, she stole down the South Road, which followed the coast all the way to Avis Armois. Far from the Capitol, perhaps there she could shake pursuit long enough to come up with a more long-term plan. The Mire Queen now beckoned to her which seemed appropriate somehow having become mired herself. As she walked she whispered a soft prayer (to whom she did not know) for forgiveness. But in her heart she knew forgiveness was reserved for those who deserved it.

The best steel doesn't always shine the brightest. Her da had taught her that and she thought of him as she walked south towards Avis Armois, the greatcloak wrapped around her due to the cool of the morn. She could still faintly smell him on it and those smells were comforting, almost as if he still embraced her in the folds of that big cloak. She breathed them in and smiled thinking of him, the pungent smell of the corrosive oils he used to clean his tools were there, and the pleasant smokey aroma of the coals of his forge still clung to the threads, and the musky smell of sweat after a good hard day of honest... She stopped abruptly and bit her lower lip. She sighed, the past is written. She could not change it no matter how much she wished to. But the future is a blank page. And that she could write.

She spotted a small family going in the opposite direction approaching, a young man, his pretty wife and two small girls tugging at their parent's cloaks. She smiled and nodded to them as their paths crossed. Her mind calling back memories of her own youth and her sister Vari. She turned and caught back up to the family offering them most of her fruit. It wouldn't last long and she knew she couldn't eat it all before it went bad. She kept a stem of grapes for herself and waved to them as they continued their journey farther away from her. She returned to the path she had chosen and walked on alone.

Landsoftheblacksea:Main Page/players/danithe thorne

2020-12-22T00:17:59Z

Darithe: /* Languages */

[[ Landsoftheblacksea:Main_Page#Player_Characters | '''Return to the Main Page''']]

A woman running from her past and perhaps seeking redemption.

[[File:zzDaritheC.jpg | thumb]]

== Basics ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Character Name !! Player Name !! Race !! Class !! Alignment !! AC !! Experience !! Hit Points
|-
| Darithe Thorne (Meav Delte) || Desconocida || Human || Thief 2 || Chaotic Good || 7 (With Dex Adj) || 1250|| 8
|-
|}
== Physical ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Age !! Height !! Weight !! Eye Colour !! Hair Colour
|-
| 19 || 5'6" || 110 lbs || Light Green || Red (Natural color Black)
|}
== Stats ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:left"
|-
| Strength || '''11''' || ''Wt. Allowance: 40#; Max Press: 115#; Open Doors: 6; Bend Bars: 2%''
|-
| Dexterity || '''17''' || ''+2 React. Adj; +2 Missile Att. Adj.; -3 Def. Adj.''
|-
| Constitution || '''12''' || ''Sys. Shock: 80%; Res. Surv: 85%''
|-
| Intelligence || '''14''' || ''#Lang: 4''
|-
| Wisdom || '''10''' ||
|-
| Charisma || '''16''' || ''Mx. Hench: 8; Loy. Base: +4; Reac. Adj.: +5''
|-
|}

+10% XP Bonus

== Saving Throws ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Paralyzation/Poison/Death Magic !! Rod, Staff or Wand !! Petrification or Plymorph !! Breath Weapon !! Spell
|-
|| 13 || 14 || 13 || 15 || 12
|}
== Weapon Proficiencies ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Dagger'''
|-
|'''Hand Crossbow'''
|-
|}
== Nonweapon Proficiencies ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Blacksmithing (11)'''
|-
|'''Cooking (14)'''
|-
|'''Reading/Writing (15)'''
|-
|'''Swimming (11)'''
|-
|'''Tumbling (17)'''
|-
|}

== Thieves Abilities ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
| '''Pick Pockets''' || 15% + 5% (DEX) + 5% (no armor) =25% ||
|-
| '''Open Locks''' || 30% + 10% (DEX) = 40% ||
|-
| '''Find/Remove Traps''' || 25% ||
|-
| '''Move Silently''' || 30% + 5% (DEX) + 10% (no armor) = 45% || Movement reduced to 1/3
|-
| '''Hide in Shadows''' || 35% + 5% (DEX) + 5% (no armor) = 45% ||
|-
| '''Detect Noise''' || 15% ||
|-
| '''Climb Walls''' || 60% + 10% (no armor) = 70% ||
|-
| '''Read Languages''' || 0% ||
|-
|}

== Encumbrance ==
{| class="wikitable"
|'''Unencumbered'''
|'''''0-40'''''
|-
|'''Light'''
|'''''41-58'''''
|-
|'''Moderate'''
|'''''59-76'''''
|-
|'''Heavy'''
|'''''77-96'''''
|-
|'''Severe'''
|'''''97-110'''''
|-
|}
== Equipment ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Clothing'''
|'''''5 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Backpack'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Small pouch'''
|'''''0.5 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Hand Crossbow'''
|'''''3 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Dagger (x2)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|-style="color: blue"
|'''Dwarven made Dagger (x2)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Quiver'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Quarrels (20)'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Dry Rations (3 days)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Waterskin'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Thieves Picks'''
|'''''1 lb'''''
|-
|'''Total'''
|'''''19.5 lbs'''''
|-
|}

== Languages ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Common'''
|-
|'''Vox Mercanti'''
|-
|'''Thieves' Cant'''
|-
|}

== Background ==
[[File:zzDaritheL.jpg]]

She stared at her reflection in the mirror for a long time. The red hair would take some getting used to. The shorn locks of her previously long tresses less so, as that frequently just got in the way of her skills. No sign of her Da's dark hair now, the only part she truly inherited from him. Just as the freckles across her pale features came from her mother. Her hands were near as red as the hair stained from the dye. Somehow that seemed apt. She scrubbed the dye from her hands in the washbasin. At least that stain could be washed away...

Darithe Thorne was her name now. Once she had been Meav Delte, the daughter of a blacksmith in the town of Belies-ar-Weil, located mid-way along the coast of Athervon between Avis Inia, the seat of the Kingdom, to the North, and Avis Armois, the oldest and most far-flung of the Kingdom’s major cities, to the South. Her father was as dumb as the anvil he pounded everyday, but he was kind and had a ready smile, and was gentle with his young daughters Meav and her sister Vari. He did his best to support his two daughters on what little income he could make from shoeing horses and hammering out crude nails to build the rickety buildings in this poor section of town.

Their mother passed from a fever when Vari was five. Meav was three years older and did the best she could for her Da and young sister. She took care of them and when money was short she did what she had to for a few more coins to add to their larder. She helped in the smithy as much as she could and took care of delivering special orders for her Da. She found with a pretty smile she would sometimes even get tips, not much, but everything helped. She was poor but she was bright. She quickly picked up some smithing skills from her father and taught herself to read and write, which was rare for the people from her part of town.

Belis-ar-Weil was neither particularly large nor particularly small; but it held a strategic location at the mouth of the Aumine river, which carried the riches of the Kingdom’s interior to the sea, where it was then sent to either Avis Inia or Avis Armois for final destinations. Due to this vast amount of traffic in lucrative goods, the town had more than its fair share of criminal element, intent on skimming some of the proceeds for themselves. While there were a number of gangs that operated around the town, all paid their respects to the notorious Five Points Brotherhood. The Brotherhood was a huge network of Thieves that had bases over nearly the entire Kingdom – at least, that was what was said. Based out of the Capitol, The Brotherhood controlled virtually all the illegal traffic flowing on the land route between Avis Inia and Tras Veniri, and had a heavy hand in distribution to points beyond inside of Athervon. No one of sane mind crossed The Brotherhood – their operatives and informants were everywhere, and they did not hesitate to deal with problems that threatened their profitable position.

Meav had never planned to join them. To the contrary, she had always steered clear of the young gangs of new recruits, and ignored their catcalls, offers, and sometimes threats as she made her deliveries in town – that she could deal with. What really made her pick up her pace was the way one of the older members – a street captain known as Dregs – looked at her. He didn’t seem to be looking at the pretty young woman with leering eyes and lustful sneers like the others. No, Dregs always seemed to be assessing whether she might be useful to him, whether she could be an asset to his operation. His cold gaze watched her every time she passed, but he never said a thing – just gave a slight touch to his cap in greeting after their eyes met, and then turned back to his business.

She choked back a laugh thinking about it now.

She managed to keep things on an even keel until her 17th year. That was the year her Da passed – walking home at night after the neighborhood innkeeper had rewarded him with a few pints for some emergency repairs to some of his stable equipment, he must’ve never seen the horseman, riding at a full gallop along the dark road. She ran out at the sounds and screams to see him lying in the mud, blood beginning to form a small pool around him. The rider never stopped, disappearing into the darkness.

After Da was in the ground, she assessed the situation, and realized something had to give. She didn't see herself or Vari swinging a hammer to make a living. She retched at the thought of some of the things women did for coin near the docks – she would die before that became her fate. Then the faces of the gang captains came to her – that cold gaze, assessing her. Perhaps she could be of use to them.

She had no idea how to initiate a conversation about this, but her mind was made up. She walked directly up to Dregs through the crowd of his young proteges, the blood that was pounding in her ears drowning out their infantile suggestions and insults.

“I need some work.” She blurted it out without even knowing it. She held her breath waiting for him to speak.

For a moment, he didn’t – just looked at her again with the same cold eyes.

Finally, he spoke. “B’out time. Let’s get ya to Fergasse, see what he has fer ya.” His voice was rough, thin, fitting his grizzled appearance perfectly. She realized it was the first time she had ever heard it.

Fergasse was the local Master of The Brotherhood, overseeing their operations in the town. If he had ever been a working thief, there was no way to tell now – he was a very fat man, who spent more time overseeing account books than picking pockets. But he was the ordained boss for The Brotherhood in town, and he did not need to worry about his girth – there were plenty of fit gang members who would take care of any of Fergasse’s problems.

Dregs brought her to a warehouse by the docks, one she had always been warned to stay away from by Ma & Da. She had to pass by room after room of intimidating looking men, and one even patted her down and felt her up making sure she didn’t have a weapon. Finally she was in Fergasse’s “office”, a large room filled with boxes, bags, sacks, barrels, crates, chests, and every manner of thing used to transport goods – as well as piles and piles of leather-bound books: ship’s journals, logs, account books, inventory scrolls. Fergasse supervised a small army of men moving things in and out while another army was copying and modifying books, writing so fast they were sweating. Fergasse’s eye flicked to her after Dreg was able to whisper something in his ear, and he spat something back she didn’t hear, before he turned back to conducting the mayhem in the room.

Dreg took her back to her place and told her how it would work. She would start just doing "special deliveries" and watching for the town guard who's eyes were easily distracted by a lithe darkhaired lass. It was easy work for the most part, and she was good at it – folks knew her Da was gone, and men circled her like buzzards if she gave them the chance, wanting to be there when her finances or her will finally broke.

But those tasks weren't enough to support her and Vari; soon, she was pestering Dreg for bigger opportunity. Happy with her performance, he graduated her to more advanced work for the guild.

She took to the tasks like a bird to the air. It excited her. It gave her freedom from the drudgery of the smithy. And the coins to be had (earned?) were greater than she had ever seen. Though just eighteen by then, she quickly became a rising star in the guild. Soon enough, Dregs re-introduced her to Fergasse at the Bosses’ request. Fergasse wanted to have a look at this new recruit who was making him so much money.

As Fergasse spoke about the impression she had made, and that if she played her cards right she could have a bright future in The Brotherhood, she noticed a young man lounging back on a pile of grain sacks, staring at her with dark, hooded eyes. She had seen that stare before, but she was not that person anymore. She ignored the look, her lip curling into a mild sneer to express her disinterest.

After the meeting was over, she asked Dregs about the man. “Eh? On the sacks? Ach, thas Dany – Fergasse’s boyo. What ye’want wit him? Oh ya? Fancy’s ya does he? Well, ya be careful lass – that boyo’s got more problems than the Emperor of Jhon, he does – and he’ll make’em your problems if ya let ‘im. Best steer clear of ‘im, stay focused on yer work. He’s trouble if you like ‘im – but he’s also trouble if ya don’t, if ya take my meaning. Don’t make Fergasse choose between yas.”

She learned from others that Dany was an addict – he smoked the seeds from the Jhonian mazak plant, which generated the dark circles around his eyes and the vacant stare.

She heeded Dregs advice and made every attempt to avoid Dany. But to her dismay, Dany had other ideas. Apparently infatuated by her, he began hanging out in her neighborhood, repeatedly offering to buy her dinner, drinks, or to join him in a harmless smoke. She rebuffed him – gently, carefully, always saying that she had something to get done for his father. More than once she had to signal Dregs to intercept them and provide an escape. She began to stay away from the house more – Vari had enough money and was getting old enough to take care of herself and most of the chores at home while Meav earned their keep.

She used the time to hone her skills every day and the exciting life on the edge became like a drug to her. What started as a tactic to avoid Dany soon became a need to spend more and more time finding ways to complete the jobs allotted to her in the most impressive way possible. Vari was left to fend for herself as Meav was gone more and more, but Meav told herself Vari would have to learn to manage the home at some point, which assuaged her guilt at not being home with her sister.

One night, exhausted from nearly two solid days of casing a new ship that had arrived, she came home and found Vari in her bed – with Dany lying next to her. From the look of it, they had apparently been celebrating for days – there were clothes and half-eaten meals everywhere. The bitter-sweet smell of mazak hit her nostrils, and she noticed several pipes were strewn about, full of the dark tarry residue the drug leaves.

Meav was incensed – Vari had ruined everything! Now what was she going to do?

She carefully stepped over Dany and shook Vari, whispering for her to get up. But the girl remained prone, motionless. She shook harder, finally pulling her hard and flipping her over – to recoil in horror as the wide, sightless eyes of her sister stared back at her from dark hooded sockets, the open lips tinged blue.

Meav stumbled back against the wall, her heart pounding. She couldn’t think. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

She started as Dany mumbled something and rolled over onto one arm, lifting himself up on his elbow. His heavy-lidded eyes revealed he was still in the throes of the drug. He reached out to Vari, touching the dead girls arm. A minute later, a giggle erupted from him.

“I told…told you. You got to…to work up to…to it. Can’t be doing what I do. Sil…silly…girl.”

He flopped down, finally noticing Meav. “Oh…hey. You’re here. That’s great – I really was interested in you more anyway.” His eyes fluttered closed again, and he resumed gently snoring.

That day Meav picked up her Da's hammer for the last time in doing so ended her time in the guild, and guildmaster's son's life.

She looked once more in the mirror. Meav was dead, and Darithe reborn from her ashes. A dark phoenix for sure. She gathered her meager belongs and wrapped herself in her father oversized cloak and started outside. She glanced once more back at the smithy and then was gone. She walked on leaving the past behind.

A new town then, one where she is unknown. A place to disappear. The further from The Brotherhood, the better. Getting on a ship was too dangerous – The Brotherhood controlled the river and sea trade, she would be seen and her suspicious departure noted, if not prevented altogether. No, she had to leave by land.

In the dark of night, she stole down the South Road, which followed the coast all the way to Avis Armois. Far from the Capitol, perhaps there she could shake pursuit long enough to come up with a more long-term plan. The Mire Queen now beckoned to her which seemed appropriate somehow having become mired herself. As she walked she whispered a soft prayer (to whom she did not know) for forgiveness. But in her heart she knew forgiveness was reserved for those who deserved it.

The best steel doesn't always shine the brightest. Her da had taught her that and she thought of him as she walked south towards Avis Armois, the greatcloak wrapped around her due to the cool of the morn. She could still faintly smell him on it and those smells were comforting, almost as if he still embraced her in the folds of that big cloak. She breathed them in and smiled thinking of him, the pungent smell of the corrosive oils he used to clean his tools were there, and the pleasant smokey aroma of the coals of his forge still clung to the threads, and the musky smell of sweat after a good hard day of honest... She stopped abruptly and bit her lower lip. She sighed, the past is written. She could not change it no matter how much she wished to. But the future is a blank page. And that she could write.

She spotted a small family going in the opposite direction approaching, a young man, his pretty wife and two small girls tugging at their parent's cloaks. She smiled and nodded to them as their paths crossed. Her mind calling back memories of her own youth and her sister Vari. She turned and caught back up to the family offering them most of her fruit. It wouldn't last long and she knew she couldn't eat it all before it went bad. She kept a stem of grapes for herself and waved to them as they continued their journey farther away from her. She returned to the path she had chosen and walked on alone.

Landsoftheblacksea:Main Page/players/danithe thorne

2020-12-22T00:16:49Z

Darithe: /* Languages */

[[ Landsoftheblacksea:Main_Page#Player_Characters | '''Return to the Main Page''']]

A woman running from her past and perhaps seeking redemption.

[[File:zzDaritheC.jpg | thumb]]

== Basics ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Character Name !! Player Name !! Race !! Class !! Alignment !! AC !! Experience !! Hit Points
|-
| Darithe Thorne (Meav Delte) || Desconocida || Human || Thief 2 || Chaotic Good || 7 (With Dex Adj) || 1250|| 8
|-
|}
== Physical ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Age !! Height !! Weight !! Eye Colour !! Hair Colour
|-
| 19 || 5'6" || 110 lbs || Light Green || Red (Natural color Black)
|}
== Stats ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:left"
|-
| Strength || '''11''' || ''Wt. Allowance: 40#; Max Press: 115#; Open Doors: 6; Bend Bars: 2%''
|-
| Dexterity || '''17''' || ''+2 React. Adj; +2 Missile Att. Adj.; -3 Def. Adj.''
|-
| Constitution || '''12''' || ''Sys. Shock: 80%; Res. Surv: 85%''
|-
| Intelligence || '''14''' || ''#Lang: 4''
|-
| Wisdom || '''10''' ||
|-
| Charisma || '''16''' || ''Mx. Hench: 8; Loy. Base: +4; Reac. Adj.: +5''
|-
|}

+10% XP Bonus

== Saving Throws ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Paralyzation/Poison/Death Magic !! Rod, Staff or Wand !! Petrification or Plymorph !! Breath Weapon !! Spell
|-
|| 13 || 14 || 13 || 15 || 12
|}
== Weapon Proficiencies ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Dagger'''
|-
|'''Hand Crossbow'''
|-
|}
== Nonweapon Proficiencies ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Blacksmithing (11)'''
|-
|'''Cooking (14)'''
|-
|'''Reading/Writing (15)'''
|-
|'''Swimming (11)'''
|-
|'''Tumbling (17)'''
|-
|}

== Thieves Abilities ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
| '''Pick Pockets''' || 15% + 5% (DEX) + 5% (no armor) =25% ||
|-
| '''Open Locks''' || 30% + 10% (DEX) = 40% ||
|-
| '''Find/Remove Traps''' || 25% ||
|-
| '''Move Silently''' || 30% + 5% (DEX) + 10% (no armor) = 45% || Movement reduced to 1/3
|-
| '''Hide in Shadows''' || 35% + 5% (DEX) + 5% (no armor) = 45% ||
|-
| '''Detect Noise''' || 15% ||
|-
| '''Climb Walls''' || 60% + 10% (no armor) = 70% ||
|-
| '''Read Languages''' || 0% ||
|-
|}

== Encumbrance ==
{| class="wikitable"
|'''Unencumbered'''
|'''''0-40'''''
|-
|'''Light'''
|'''''41-58'''''
|-
|'''Moderate'''
|'''''59-76'''''
|-
|'''Heavy'''
|'''''77-96'''''
|-
|'''Severe'''
|'''''97-110'''''
|-
|}
== Equipment ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Clothing'''
|'''''5 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Backpack'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Small pouch'''
|'''''0.5 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Hand Crossbow'''
|'''''3 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Dagger (x2)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|-style="color: blue"
|'''Dwarven made Dagger (x2)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Quiver'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Quarrels (20)'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Dry Rations (3 days)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Waterskin'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Thieves Picks'''
|'''''1 lb'''''
|-
|'''Total'''
|'''''19.5 lbs'''''
|-
|}

== Languages ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Common'''
|-
|'''Vox Mercanti'''
|-
|'''Thieves' Cant (She will never openly use this, only note those who do.)'''
|-
|}

== Background ==
[[File:zzDaritheL.jpg]]

She stared at her reflection in the mirror for a long time. The red hair would take some getting used to. The shorn locks of her previously long tresses less so, as that frequently just got in the way of her skills. No sign of her Da's dark hair now, the only part she truly inherited from him. Just as the freckles across her pale features came from her mother. Her hands were near as red as the hair stained from the dye. Somehow that seemed apt. She scrubbed the dye from her hands in the washbasin. At least that stain could be washed away...

Darithe Thorne was her name now. Once she had been Meav Delte, the daughter of a blacksmith in the town of Belies-ar-Weil, located mid-way along the coast of Athervon between Avis Inia, the seat of the Kingdom, to the North, and Avis Armois, the oldest and most far-flung of the Kingdom’s major cities, to the South. Her father was as dumb as the anvil he pounded everyday, but he was kind and had a ready smile, and was gentle with his young daughters Meav and her sister Vari. He did his best to support his two daughters on what little income he could make from shoeing horses and hammering out crude nails to build the rickety buildings in this poor section of town.

Their mother passed from a fever when Vari was five. Meav was three years older and did the best she could for her Da and young sister. She took care of them and when money was short she did what she had to for a few more coins to add to their larder. She helped in the smithy as much as she could and took care of delivering special orders for her Da. She found with a pretty smile she would sometimes even get tips, not much, but everything helped. She was poor but she was bright. She quickly picked up some smithing skills from her father and taught herself to read and write, which was rare for the people from her part of town.

Belis-ar-Weil was neither particularly large nor particularly small; but it held a strategic location at the mouth of the Aumine river, which carried the riches of the Kingdom’s interior to the sea, where it was then sent to either Avis Inia or Avis Armois for final destinations. Due to this vast amount of traffic in lucrative goods, the town had more than its fair share of criminal element, intent on skimming some of the proceeds for themselves. While there were a number of gangs that operated around the town, all paid their respects to the notorious Five Points Brotherhood. The Brotherhood was a huge network of Thieves that had bases over nearly the entire Kingdom – at least, that was what was said. Based out of the Capitol, The Brotherhood controlled virtually all the illegal traffic flowing on the land route between Avis Inia and Tras Veniri, and had a heavy hand in distribution to points beyond inside of Athervon. No one of sane mind crossed The Brotherhood – their operatives and informants were everywhere, and they did not hesitate to deal with problems that threatened their profitable position.

Meav had never planned to join them. To the contrary, she had always steered clear of the young gangs of new recruits, and ignored their catcalls, offers, and sometimes threats as she made her deliveries in town – that she could deal with. What really made her pick up her pace was the way one of the older members – a street captain known as Dregs – looked at her. He didn’t seem to be looking at the pretty young woman with leering eyes and lustful sneers like the others. No, Dregs always seemed to be assessing whether she might be useful to him, whether she could be an asset to his operation. His cold gaze watched her every time she passed, but he never said a thing – just gave a slight touch to his cap in greeting after their eyes met, and then turned back to his business.

She choked back a laugh thinking about it now.

She managed to keep things on an even keel until her 17th year. That was the year her Da passed – walking home at night after the neighborhood innkeeper had rewarded him with a few pints for some emergency repairs to some of his stable equipment, he must’ve never seen the horseman, riding at a full gallop along the dark road. She ran out at the sounds and screams to see him lying in the mud, blood beginning to form a small pool around him. The rider never stopped, disappearing into the darkness.

After Da was in the ground, she assessed the situation, and realized something had to give. She didn't see herself or Vari swinging a hammer to make a living. She retched at the thought of some of the things women did for coin near the docks – she would die before that became her fate. Then the faces of the gang captains came to her – that cold gaze, assessing her. Perhaps she could be of use to them.

She had no idea how to initiate a conversation about this, but her mind was made up. She walked directly up to Dregs through the crowd of his young proteges, the blood that was pounding in her ears drowning out their infantile suggestions and insults.

“I need some work.” She blurted it out without even knowing it. She held her breath waiting for him to speak.

For a moment, he didn’t – just looked at her again with the same cold eyes.

Finally, he spoke. “B’out time. Let’s get ya to Fergasse, see what he has fer ya.” His voice was rough, thin, fitting his grizzled appearance perfectly. She realized it was the first time she had ever heard it.

Fergasse was the local Master of The Brotherhood, overseeing their operations in the town. If he had ever been a working thief, there was no way to tell now – he was a very fat man, who spent more time overseeing account books than picking pockets. But he was the ordained boss for The Brotherhood in town, and he did not need to worry about his girth – there were plenty of fit gang members who would take care of any of Fergasse’s problems.

Dregs brought her to a warehouse by the docks, one she had always been warned to stay away from by Ma & Da. She had to pass by room after room of intimidating looking men, and one even patted her down and felt her up making sure she didn’t have a weapon. Finally she was in Fergasse’s “office”, a large room filled with boxes, bags, sacks, barrels, crates, chests, and every manner of thing used to transport goods – as well as piles and piles of leather-bound books: ship’s journals, logs, account books, inventory scrolls. Fergasse supervised a small army of men moving things in and out while another army was copying and modifying books, writing so fast they were sweating. Fergasse’s eye flicked to her after Dreg was able to whisper something in his ear, and he spat something back she didn’t hear, before he turned back to conducting the mayhem in the room.

Dreg took her back to her place and told her how it would work. She would start just doing "special deliveries" and watching for the town guard who's eyes were easily distracted by a lithe darkhaired lass. It was easy work for the most part, and she was good at it – folks knew her Da was gone, and men circled her like buzzards if she gave them the chance, wanting to be there when her finances or her will finally broke.

But those tasks weren't enough to support her and Vari; soon, she was pestering Dreg for bigger opportunity. Happy with her performance, he graduated her to more advanced work for the guild.

She took to the tasks like a bird to the air. It excited her. It gave her freedom from the drudgery of the smithy. And the coins to be had (earned?) were greater than she had ever seen. Though just eighteen by then, she quickly became a rising star in the guild. Soon enough, Dregs re-introduced her to Fergasse at the Bosses’ request. Fergasse wanted to have a look at this new recruit who was making him so much money.

As Fergasse spoke about the impression she had made, and that if she played her cards right she could have a bright future in The Brotherhood, she noticed a young man lounging back on a pile of grain sacks, staring at her with dark, hooded eyes. She had seen that stare before, but she was not that person anymore. She ignored the look, her lip curling into a mild sneer to express her disinterest.

After the meeting was over, she asked Dregs about the man. “Eh? On the sacks? Ach, thas Dany – Fergasse’s boyo. What ye’want wit him? Oh ya? Fancy’s ya does he? Well, ya be careful lass – that boyo’s got more problems than the Emperor of Jhon, he does – and he’ll make’em your problems if ya let ‘im. Best steer clear of ‘im, stay focused on yer work. He’s trouble if you like ‘im – but he’s also trouble if ya don’t, if ya take my meaning. Don’t make Fergasse choose between yas.”

She learned from others that Dany was an addict – he smoked the seeds from the Jhonian mazak plant, which generated the dark circles around his eyes and the vacant stare.

She heeded Dregs advice and made every attempt to avoid Dany. But to her dismay, Dany had other ideas. Apparently infatuated by her, he began hanging out in her neighborhood, repeatedly offering to buy her dinner, drinks, or to join him in a harmless smoke. She rebuffed him – gently, carefully, always saying that she had something to get done for his father. More than once she had to signal Dregs to intercept them and provide an escape. She began to stay away from the house more – Vari had enough money and was getting old enough to take care of herself and most of the chores at home while Meav earned their keep.

She used the time to hone her skills every day and the exciting life on the edge became like a drug to her. What started as a tactic to avoid Dany soon became a need to spend more and more time finding ways to complete the jobs allotted to her in the most impressive way possible. Vari was left to fend for herself as Meav was gone more and more, but Meav told herself Vari would have to learn to manage the home at some point, which assuaged her guilt at not being home with her sister.

One night, exhausted from nearly two solid days of casing a new ship that had arrived, she came home and found Vari in her bed – with Dany lying next to her. From the look of it, they had apparently been celebrating for days – there were clothes and half-eaten meals everywhere. The bitter-sweet smell of mazak hit her nostrils, and she noticed several pipes were strewn about, full of the dark tarry residue the drug leaves.

Meav was incensed – Vari had ruined everything! Now what was she going to do?

She carefully stepped over Dany and shook Vari, whispering for her to get up. But the girl remained prone, motionless. She shook harder, finally pulling her hard and flipping her over – to recoil in horror as the wide, sightless eyes of her sister stared back at her from dark hooded sockets, the open lips tinged blue.

Meav stumbled back against the wall, her heart pounding. She couldn’t think. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

She started as Dany mumbled something and rolled over onto one arm, lifting himself up on his elbow. His heavy-lidded eyes revealed he was still in the throes of the drug. He reached out to Vari, touching the dead girls arm. A minute later, a giggle erupted from him.

“I told…told you. You got to…to work up to…to it. Can’t be doing what I do. Sil…silly…girl.”

He flopped down, finally noticing Meav. “Oh…hey. You’re here. That’s great – I really was interested in you more anyway.” His eyes fluttered closed again, and he resumed gently snoring.

That day Meav picked up her Da's hammer for the last time in doing so ended her time in the guild, and guildmaster's son's life.

She looked once more in the mirror. Meav was dead, and Darithe reborn from her ashes. A dark phoenix for sure. She gathered her meager belongs and wrapped herself in her father oversized cloak and started outside. She glanced once more back at the smithy and then was gone. She walked on leaving the past behind.

A new town then, one where she is unknown. A place to disappear. The further from The Brotherhood, the better. Getting on a ship was too dangerous – The Brotherhood controlled the river and sea trade, she would be seen and her suspicious departure noted, if not prevented altogether. No, she had to leave by land.

In the dark of night, she stole down the South Road, which followed the coast all the way to Avis Armois. Far from the Capitol, perhaps there she could shake pursuit long enough to come up with a more long-term plan. The Mire Queen now beckoned to her which seemed appropriate somehow having become mired herself. As she walked she whispered a soft prayer (to whom she did not know) for forgiveness. But in her heart she knew forgiveness was reserved for those who deserved it.

The best steel doesn't always shine the brightest. Her da had taught her that and she thought of him as she walked south towards Avis Armois, the greatcloak wrapped around her due to the cool of the morn. She could still faintly smell him on it and those smells were comforting, almost as if he still embraced her in the folds of that big cloak. She breathed them in and smiled thinking of him, the pungent smell of the corrosive oils he used to clean his tools were there, and the pleasant smokey aroma of the coals of his forge still clung to the threads, and the musky smell of sweat after a good hard day of honest... She stopped abruptly and bit her lower lip. She sighed, the past is written. She could not change it no matter how much she wished to. But the future is a blank page. And that she could write.

She spotted a small family going in the opposite direction approaching, a young man, his pretty wife and two small girls tugging at their parent's cloaks. She smiled and nodded to them as their paths crossed. Her mind calling back memories of her own youth and her sister Vari. She turned and caught back up to the family offering them most of her fruit. It wouldn't last long and she knew she couldn't eat it all before it went bad. She kept a stem of grapes for herself and waved to them as they continued their journey farther away from her. She returned to the path she had chosen and walked on alone.

Landsoftheblacksea:Main Page/players/danithe thorne

2020-12-06T23:58:46Z

Darithe: /* Equipment */

[[ Landsoftheblacksea:Main_Page#Player_Characters | '''Return to the Main Page''']]

A woman running from her past and perhaps seeking redemption.

[[File:zzDaritheC.jpg | thumb]]

== Basics ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Character Name !! Player Name !! Race !! Class !! Alignment !! AC !! Experience !! Hit Points
|-
| Darithe Thorne (Meav Delte) || Desconocida || Human || Thief 2 || Chaotic Good || 7 (With Dex Adj) || 1250|| 8
|-
|}
== Physical ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Age !! Height !! Weight !! Eye Colour !! Hair Colour
|-
| 19 || 5'6" || 110 lbs || Light Green || Red (Natural color Black)
|}
== Stats ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:left"
|-
| Strength || '''11''' || ''Wt. Allowance: 40#; Max Press: 115#; Open Doors: 6; Bend Bars: 2%''
|-
| Dexterity || '''17''' || ''+2 React. Adj; +2 Missile Att. Adj.; -3 Def. Adj.''
|-
| Constitution || '''12''' || ''Sys. Shock: 80%; Res. Surv: 85%''
|-
| Intelligence || '''14''' || ''#Lang: 4''
|-
| Wisdom || '''10''' ||
|-
| Charisma || '''16''' || ''Mx. Hench: 8; Loy. Base: +4; Reac. Adj.: +5''
|-
|}

+10% XP Bonus

== Saving Throws ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Paralyzation/Poison/Death Magic !! Rod, Staff or Wand !! Petrification or Plymorph !! Breath Weapon !! Spell
|-
|| 13 || 14 || 13 || 15 || 12
|}
== Weapon Proficiencies ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Dagger'''
|-
|'''Hand Crossbow'''
|-
|}
== Nonweapon Proficiencies ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Blacksmithing (11)'''
|-
|'''Cooking (14)'''
|-
|'''Reading/Writing (15)'''
|-
|'''Swimming (11)'''
|-
|'''Tumbling (17)'''
|-
|}

== Thieves Abilities ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
| '''Pick Pockets''' || 15% + 5% (DEX) + 5% (no armor) =25% ||
|-
| '''Open Locks''' || 30% + 10% (DEX) = 40% ||
|-
| '''Find/Remove Traps''' || 25% ||
|-
| '''Move Silently''' || 30% + 5% (DEX) + 10% (no armor) = 45% || Movement reduced to 1/3
|-
| '''Hide in Shadows''' || 35% + 5% (DEX) + 5% (no armor) = 45% ||
|-
| '''Detect Noise''' || 15% ||
|-
| '''Climb Walls''' || 60% + 10% (no armor) = 70% ||
|-
| '''Read Languages''' || 0% ||
|-
|}

== Encumbrance ==
{| class="wikitable"
|'''Unencumbered'''
|'''''0-40'''''
|-
|'''Light'''
|'''''41-58'''''
|-
|'''Moderate'''
|'''''59-76'''''
|-
|'''Heavy'''
|'''''77-96'''''
|-
|'''Severe'''
|'''''97-110'''''
|-
|}
== Equipment ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Clothing'''
|'''''5 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Backpack'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Small pouch'''
|'''''0.5 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Hand Crossbow'''
|'''''3 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Dagger (x2)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Dwarven made Dagger (x2)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Quiver'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Quarrels (20)'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Dry Rations (3 days)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Waterskin'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Thieves Picks'''
|'''''1 lb'''''
|-
|'''Total'''
|'''''19.5 lbs'''''
|-
|}

== Languages ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Common'''
|-
|'''Vox Mercanti'''
|-
|'''Anidan'''
|-
|'''Athernian'''
|-
|'''Thieves' Cant (She will never openly use this, only note those who do.)'''
|-
|}

== Background ==
[[File:zzDaritheL.jpg]]

She stared at her reflection in the mirror for a long time. The red hair would take some getting used to. The shorn locks of her previously long tresses less so, as that frequently just got in the way of her skills. No sign of her Da's dark hair now, the only part she truly inherited from him. Just as the freckles across her pale features came from her mother. Her hands were near as red as the hair stained from the dye. Somehow that seemed apt. She scrubbed the dye from her hands in the washbasin. At least that stain could be washed away...

Darithe Thorne was her name now. Once she had been Meav Delte, the daughter of a blacksmith in the town of Belies-ar-Weil, located mid-way along the coast of Athervon between Avis Inia, the seat of the Kingdom, to the North, and Avis Armois, the oldest and most far-flung of the Kingdom’s major cities, to the South. Her father was as dumb as the anvil he pounded everyday, but he was kind and had a ready smile, and was gentle with his young daughters Meav and her sister Vari. He did his best to support his two daughters on what little income he could make from shoeing horses and hammering out crude nails to build the rickety buildings in this poor section of town.

Their mother passed from a fever when Vari was five. Meav was three years older and did the best she could for her Da and young sister. She took care of them and when money was short she did what she had to for a few more coins to add to their larder. She helped in the smithy as much as she could and took care of delivering special orders for her Da. She found with a pretty smile she would sometimes even get tips, not much, but everything helped. She was poor but she was bright. She quickly picked up some smithing skills from her father and taught herself to read and write, which was rare for the people from her part of town.

Belis-ar-Weil was neither particularly large nor particularly small; but it held a strategic location at the mouth of the Aumine river, which carried the riches of the Kingdom’s interior to the sea, where it was then sent to either Avis Inia or Avis Armois for final destinations. Due to this vast amount of traffic in lucrative goods, the town had more than its fair share of criminal element, intent on skimming some of the proceeds for themselves. While there were a number of gangs that operated around the town, all paid their respects to the notorious Five Points Brotherhood. The Brotherhood was a huge network of Thieves that had bases over nearly the entire Kingdom – at least, that was what was said. Based out of the Capitol, The Brotherhood controlled virtually all the illegal traffic flowing on the land route between Avis Inia and Tras Veniri, and had a heavy hand in distribution to points beyond inside of Athervon. No one of sane mind crossed The Brotherhood – their operatives and informants were everywhere, and they did not hesitate to deal with problems that threatened their profitable position.

Meav had never planned to join them. To the contrary, she had always steered clear of the young gangs of new recruits, and ignored their catcalls, offers, and sometimes threats as she made her deliveries in town – that she could deal with. What really made her pick up her pace was the way one of the older members – a street captain known as Dregs – looked at her. He didn’t seem to be looking at the pretty young woman with leering eyes and lustful sneers like the others. No, Dregs always seemed to be assessing whether she might be useful to him, whether she could be an asset to his operation. His cold gaze watched her every time she passed, but he never said a thing – just gave a slight touch to his cap in greeting after their eyes met, and then turned back to his business.

She choked back a laugh thinking about it now.

She managed to keep things on an even keel until her 17th year. That was the year her Da passed – walking home at night after the neighborhood innkeeper had rewarded him with a few pints for some emergency repairs to some of his stable equipment, he must’ve never seen the horseman, riding at a full gallop along the dark road. She ran out at the sounds and screams to see him lying in the mud, blood beginning to form a small pool around him. The rider never stopped, disappearing into the darkness.

After Da was in the ground, she assessed the situation, and realized something had to give. She didn't see herself or Vari swinging a hammer to make a living. She retched at the thought of some of the things women did for coin near the docks – she would die before that became her fate. Then the faces of the gang captains came to her – that cold gaze, assessing her. Perhaps she could be of use to them.

She had no idea how to initiate a conversation about this, but her mind was made up. She walked directly up to Dregs through the crowd of his young proteges, the blood that was pounding in her ears drowning out their infantile suggestions and insults.

“I need some work.” She blurted it out without even knowing it. She held her breath waiting for him to speak.

For a moment, he didn’t – just looked at her again with the same cold eyes.

Finally, he spoke. “B’out time. Let’s get ya to Fergasse, see what he has fer ya.” His voice was rough, thin, fitting his grizzled appearance perfectly. She realized it was the first time she had ever heard it.

Fergasse was the local Master of The Brotherhood, overseeing their operations in the town. If he had ever been a working thief, there was no way to tell now – he was a very fat man, who spent more time overseeing account books than picking pockets. But he was the ordained boss for The Brotherhood in town, and he did not need to worry about his girth – there were plenty of fit gang members who would take care of any of Fergasse’s problems.

Dregs brought her to a warehouse by the docks, one she had always been warned to stay away from by Ma & Da. She had to pass by room after room of intimidating looking men, and one even patted her down and felt her up making sure she didn’t have a weapon. Finally she was in Fergasse’s “office”, a large room filled with boxes, bags, sacks, barrels, crates, chests, and every manner of thing used to transport goods – as well as piles and piles of leather-bound books: ship’s journals, logs, account books, inventory scrolls. Fergasse supervised a small army of men moving things in and out while another army was copying and modifying books, writing so fast they were sweating. Fergasse’s eye flicked to her after Dreg was able to whisper something in his ear, and he spat something back she didn’t hear, before he turned back to conducting the mayhem in the room.

Dreg took her back to her place and told her how it would work. She would start just doing "special deliveries" and watching for the town guard who's eyes were easily distracted by a lithe darkhaired lass. It was easy work for the most part, and she was good at it – folks knew her Da was gone, and men circled her like buzzards if she gave them the chance, wanting to be there when her finances or her will finally broke.

But those tasks weren't enough to support her and Vari; soon, she was pestering Dreg for bigger opportunity. Happy with her performance, he graduated her to more advanced work for the guild.

She took to the tasks like a bird to the air. It excited her. It gave her freedom from the drudgery of the smithy. And the coins to be had (earned?) were greater than she had ever seen. Though just eighteen by then, she quickly became a rising star in the guild. Soon enough, Dregs re-introduced her to Fergasse at the Bosses’ request. Fergasse wanted to have a look at this new recruit who was making him so much money.

As Fergasse spoke about the impression she had made, and that if she played her cards right she could have a bright future in The Brotherhood, she noticed a young man lounging back on a pile of grain sacks, staring at her with dark, hooded eyes. She had seen that stare before, but she was not that person anymore. She ignored the look, her lip curling into a mild sneer to express her disinterest.

After the meeting was over, she asked Dregs about the man. “Eh? On the sacks? Ach, thas Dany – Fergasse’s boyo. What ye’want wit him? Oh ya? Fancy’s ya does he? Well, ya be careful lass – that boyo’s got more problems than the Emperor of Jhon, he does – and he’ll make’em your problems if ya let ‘im. Best steer clear of ‘im, stay focused on yer work. He’s trouble if you like ‘im – but he’s also trouble if ya don’t, if ya take my meaning. Don’t make Fergasse choose between yas.”

She learned from others that Dany was an addict – he smoked the seeds from the Jhonian mazak plant, which generated the dark circles around his eyes and the vacant stare.

She heeded Dregs advice and made every attempt to avoid Dany. But to her dismay, Dany had other ideas. Apparently infatuated by her, he began hanging out in her neighborhood, repeatedly offering to buy her dinner, drinks, or to join him in a harmless smoke. She rebuffed him – gently, carefully, always saying that she had something to get done for his father. More than once she had to signal Dregs to intercept them and provide an escape. She began to stay away from the house more – Vari had enough money and was getting old enough to take care of herself and most of the chores at home while Meav earned their keep.

She used the time to hone her skills every day and the exciting life on the edge became like a drug to her. What started as a tactic to avoid Dany soon became a need to spend more and more time finding ways to complete the jobs allotted to her in the most impressive way possible. Vari was left to fend for herself as Meav was gone more and more, but Meav told herself Vari would have to learn to manage the home at some point, which assuaged her guilt at not being home with her sister.

One night, exhausted from nearly two solid days of casing a new ship that had arrived, she came home and found Vari in her bed – with Dany lying next to her. From the look of it, they had apparently been celebrating for days – there were clothes and half-eaten meals everywhere. The bitter-sweet smell of mazak hit her nostrils, and she noticed several pipes were strewn about, full of the dark tarry residue the drug leaves.

Meav was incensed – Vari had ruined everything! Now what was she going to do?

She carefully stepped over Dany and shook Vari, whispering for her to get up. But the girl remained prone, motionless. She shook harder, finally pulling her hard and flipping her over – to recoil in horror as the wide, sightless eyes of her sister stared back at her from dark hooded sockets, the open lips tinged blue.

Meav stumbled back against the wall, her heart pounding. She couldn’t think. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

She started as Dany mumbled something and rolled over onto one arm, lifting himself up on his elbow. His heavy-lidded eyes revealed he was still in the throes of the drug. He reached out to Vari, touching the dead girls arm. A minute later, a giggle erupted from him.

“I told…told you. You got to…to work up to…to it. Can’t be doing what I do. Sil…silly…girl.”

He flopped down, finally noticing Meav. “Oh…hey. You’re here. That’s great – I really was interested in you more anyway.” His eyes fluttered closed again, and he resumed gently snoring.

That day Meav picked up her Da's hammer for the last time in doing so ended her time in the guild, and guildmaster's son's life.

She looked once more in the mirror. Meav was dead, and Darithe reborn from her ashes. A dark phoenix for sure. She gathered her meager belongs and wrapped herself in her father oversized cloak and started outside. She glanced once more back at the smithy and then was gone. She walked on leaving the past behind.

A new town then, one where she is unknown. A place to disappear. The further from The Brotherhood, the better. Getting on a ship was too dangerous – The Brotherhood controlled the river and sea trade, she would be seen and her suspicious departure noted, if not prevented altogether. No, she had to leave by land.

In the dark of night, she stole down the South Road, which followed the coast all the way to Avis Armois. Far from the Capitol, perhaps there she could shake pursuit long enough to come up with a more long-term plan. The Mire Queen now beckoned to her which seemed appropriate somehow having become mired herself. As she walked she whispered a soft prayer (to whom she did not know) for forgiveness. But in her heart she knew forgiveness was reserved for those who deserved it.

The best steel doesn't always shine the brightest. Her da had taught her that and she thought of him as she walked south towards Avis Armois, the greatcloak wrapped around her due to the cool of the morn. She could still faintly smell him on it and those smells were comforting, almost as if he still embraced her in the folds of that big cloak. She breathed them in and smiled thinking of him, the pungent smell of the corrosive oils he used to clean his tools were there, and the pleasant smokey aroma of the coals of his forge still clung to the threads, and the musky smell of sweat after a good hard day of honest... She stopped abruptly and bit her lower lip. She sighed, the past is written. She could not change it no matter how much she wished to. But the future is a blank page. And that she could write.

She spotted a small family going in the opposite direction approaching, a young man, his pretty wife and two small girls tugging at their parent's cloaks. She smiled and nodded to them as their paths crossed. Her mind calling back memories of her own youth and her sister Vari. She turned and caught back up to the family offering them most of her fruit. It wouldn't last long and she knew she couldn't eat it all before it went bad. She kept a stem of grapes for herself and waved to them as they continued their journey farther away from her. She returned to the path she had chosen and walked on alone.

Supernatural Law:PlayerCharacters

2020-11-14T00:38:58Z

Darithe: /* Tristesse "Tess" LeCrux */

[[Supernatural_Law:_Main_Page|Back to the main page ]]

All the player characters created for the campaign. (And their players.)

==Jin-hee "Jin" Hayes (Ilya) ==

[[File:Jin-hee_portrait.png|245px|thumb|left|]]
===Background===
When the Occult Crimes Division first heard about Jin-hee, they didn't imagine she'd end joining their ranks. A petty thief who used magic in her break ins, she was like an apparition, barefooted and vanishing in thin air after stealing mostly food. When the detectives managed to corner and bring her to the headquarters for questioning they were astonished to discover the girl understood Enochian, but not English, and seemed confused by her whereabouts, for she had just arrived to Boston from the Other Side.

Born in the Russian Far East during harsh times, Jin was barely six when her family was dispossessed from their lands. Their situation became desperate once they got stranded by winter in the countryside with three small children and little food. One evening she came across an eerie stone circle while gathering wood alone. Standing in the middle of it was a woman with an unsettling face and strange clothes. Like most children, Jin knew the tales about the fair folk. She called out to the woman, begging for her help. The woman set a price on it: she'd save Jin's family if the girl were to serve her on her own realm. Jin would be free to go once she completed a challenge of the fae's choosing. Jin-hee's parents never saw her again. They only found baskets with grain, exotic fruits and bread still warm from the oven. Underneath the bundle there was a handful of gold coins, more than enough to see them through the country. Unbeknownst to them, Jin took up the fae's offer.

She was twelve when she won her freedom through illusions and trickery. The fae's challenge was impossible, but something within Jin had changed--she was no longer ungifted, picking up spells from the fair folk themselves. True to their reputation, the fae fulfilled their end of the bargain, safely returning the girl to the human world. Where exactly, of course, was never specified in their original agreement. And that's how the OCD found themselves in a pinch: what to do with an underage mage with too much power and so little wisdom?

Because the girl spoke a little Russian a Fenris agent was called over to piece girl's story together. She had been missing for decades, presumed dead, and her parents were gone. Time moved differently on the human's side, and her sisters grew old and moved from Russia. They couldn't simply show up with the girl on their doors, she never met her father's family in Korea, and no pure blooded family back at Russia would want to take her in. She seemed more trouble than worth, a socially stunted teenager that would stick out wherever she was. In the end they decided to place her under the US government tutelage, where she could be taught and watched so she wouldn't end up in a victim in a ritual or worse. She received a new identity, a cover story and an invitation to return to Russia once she came of age. What the Fenris agent failed to notice was that under her listlessness, Jin-hee was clever and resourceful. She overcame the initial learning curve and exceeded any expectations graduating in time, enrolling at the Police Academy and going on to join the OCD as an officer to repay those she feels saved her life.

===Stats===
----
{|

| width="10%" valign="top" |
{| class="wikitable"
|+
|-
|'''Bloodline'''
|'''''Pure-Blooded'''''
|-
|'''Archetype'''
|'''''Warlock'''''
|-
|'''Arcana'''
|'''''The Hanged Man'''''
|-
|'''Scene Points'''
|'''''3'''''
|-
|(+) '''XP earned'''
|'''''10'''''
|-
|(+)'''(remaining)'''
|'''''2 XP'''''
|-
|'''Parents'''
|'''''Both dead'''''
|-
|'''Siblings'''
|'''''2, both women'''''
|-
|'''Childhood'''
|'''''Protector'''''
|-
|'''Adolescence'''
|'''''Run in with the Law'''''
|-
|'''Adulthood'''
|'''''Studied Hard'''''
|-
|'''Occupation'''
|'''''OCD rookie officer'''''
|-
|'''Status/Wealth'''
|'''''Low Class, $1250 monthly/$5000 starting'''''
|-
|'''Complication'''
|'''''Indebted to Arclight'''''
|-
|}
| width="10%" valign="top" |
{| class="wikitable"
|+Talents
|-
|'''Esoteric Knowledge (Warlock)'''
|'''''Can pick spells from 2 additional Archetypes'''''
|-
|'''Spellslinger (Warlock)'''
|'''''Can cast 2 spells simultaneously without penalties per session'''''
|-
|}
| width="10%" valign="top" |
{| class="wikitable"
|+Languages
|-
|'''Enochian'''
|'''''4'''''
|-
|'''Fey'''
|'''''4'''''
|-
|'''English'''
|'''''4'''''
|-
|'''Latin'''
|'''''3'''''
|-
|'''Russian'''
|'''''3'''''
|-
|'''Korean'''
|'''''2'''''
|-
|}
| width="10%" valign="top" |
{| class="wikitable"
|+Attributes
|-
|'''STR'''
|'''''2'''''
|-
|'''HLT'''
|'''''3'''''
|-
|'''REF'''
|'''''5'''''
|-
|'''WLP'''
|'''''4'''''
|-
|'''CHR'''
|'''''2'''''
|-
|'''INT'''
|'''''5'''''
|-
|'''HP'''
|'''''24'''''
|-
|'''MP'''
|'''''50'''''
|-
|'''Heal Rate'''
|'''''6 HP/day'''''
|-
|'''Magic Rec.'''
|'''''4 MP/hour'''''
|-
|'''Initiative'''
|'''''1d8+5'''''
|-
|'''Movement'''
|'''''12'''''
|-
|'''Dmg. Mod.'''
|'''''-'''''
|-
|}
| width="10%" valign="top" |
{| class="wikitable"
|+Skills
|-
|'''Athletics'''
|'''''2d10'''''
|-
|'''Brawling'''
|'''''2d10'''''
|-
|'''Stealth'''
|'''''3d8'''''
|-
|'''Dodge'''
|'''''1d6'''''
|-
|'''Police Sciences'''
|'''''1d6'''''
|-
|'''Pistols'''
|'''''3d10'''''
|-
|'''Blades'''
|'''''2d8'''''
|-
|'''Observation'''
|'''''2d6'''''
|-
|(+) '''Occultism'''
|'''''1d6'''''
|-
|'''First Aid'''
|'''''1d6'''''
|-
|'''Magic Lore: Warlock'''
|'''''3d10'''''
|-
|'''Magic Lore: General'''
|'''''1d6'''''
|-
|'''Magic Lore: Shadow'''
|'''''2d8'''''
|-
|'''Magic Lore: Enchanter'''
|'''''3d6'''''
|-
|}
| width="10%" valign="top" |
{| class="wikitable"
|+Spells
|-
|'''Warlock'''
|''''' '''''
|-
|'''Barrier Ward'''
|'''''1d6'''''
|-
|'''Dragon's Fire (+1 bloodline)'''
|'''''2d6'''''
|-
|'''Illusion'''
|'''''2d8'''''
|-
|'''Cloud of Confusion'''
|'''''1d10'''''
|-
|'''Enchanter'''
|''''' '''''
|-
|'''Structural Manipulation'''
|'''''2d6'''''
|-
|'''Arcane Attunement'''
|'''''3d6'''''
|-
|'''Shadow'''
|''''' '''''
|-
|'''Shadow Meld'''
|'''''1d6'''''
|-
|'''Walk on Walls'''
|'''''1d6'''''
|-
|'''Fleeting Shadow'''
|'''''1d6'''''
|-
|'''Combat Teleport'''
|'''''2d8'''''
|-
|'''General'''
|''''' '''''
|-
|'''Night Sight'''
|'''''1d6'''''
|-
|'''Blade of the Damned'''
|'''''1d6'''''
|-
|}

|}

===Equipment===

{| cellpadding=5 style="width: 48%; min-width: 500px; max-width: 650px; display: inline-table; vertical-align:top; border:1px solid #BBB; margin: 1em 1em 0 0; line-height: 1em;"
|+ style="text-align: left; padding-bottom: .1em; line-height: 1.6em;" | '''Currently Equipped'''
|- bgcolor="#f2f6f7"
| Item || qt. || Type || Cost
|-
| Messenger bag || - || - || -
|-
| Debt Card + $50 cash || - || - || -
|-
| CharlieCard || - || - || -
|-
| Driver's License || - || - || -
|-
| Keys || - || - || -
|-
| Smartphone || - || - || style="font-size: .8em" | $200
|-
| Flashlight || - || - || style="font-size: .8em" | $5
|-
| Glow stick || x1 || - || style="font-size: .8em" | $5
|-
| First Aid Kit || - || || - style="font-size: .8em" | $20
|-
| Chalk || x5 || - || -
|-
| colspan=4 style="color: #717882; font-size: .75em; text-transform: uppercase" bgcolor="#f5f8f9" |
|-
| Motorcycle (old, refurbished) || - || - || style="font-size: .8em" | $1000
|-
| colspan=4 style="color: #717882; font-size: .75em; text-transform: uppercase" bgcolor="#f5f8f9" | [Department Issued]
|-
| Officer badge (nº 1204) || - || - || -
|-
| Cellphone || - ||- || -
|-
| Radio || - || - || -
|-
| Handcuffs || x1 || - || -
|-
| colspan=4 style="color: #717882; font-size: .75em; text-transform: uppercase" bgcolor="#f5f8f9" | [Consumables]
|-
| Lilian's Card (Queen of Diamonds) || x1 || style="font-size: .8em" | ''magical (attuned?)'' || -
|-
| colspan=5 style="color: #717882; font-size: .75em; padding-top:0" | → Burn to summon her help in case of a demon attack
|-
| Round glass vial of sand || x1 || style="font-size: .8em" | ''magical (attuned)'' || -
|-
| colspan=4 style="color: #717882; font-size: .75em; padding-top:0" | → '''Spell:''' Barrier Ward; '''Dice:''' 1d6+5; '''TN*:''' 10; '''Trigger:''' release the sand 
The barrier lasts for '''1 month''', and has an exception for people carrying '''officer badges'''
|-
| style="padding-bottom:0;" | Healing Potion || x2 || style="padding-bottom:0;font-size: .8em" | ''magical (potion)'' || style="padding-bottom:0;font-size: .8em" | $360
|-
| colspan=4 style="color: #717882; font-size: .75em; padding-top:0" | → Heals 2d8 HP, any dice that comes up 1 can be rerolled once
|-
| (-) Power Elixir || <s>x3</s> x1 || style="font-size: .8em" | ''magical (potion)'' || style="font-size: .8em" | $540
|-
| colspan=4 style="color: #717882; font-size: .75em; padding-top:0" | → Recovers 2d10 MP
|-
| colspan=4 style="color: #717882; font-size: .75em; text-transform: uppercase" bgcolor="#f5f8f9" | [Desk drawer at HQ]
|-
| Pendant, Frog || - || style="font-size: .8em" | ''magical (attuned)'' || -
|-
| colspan=4 style="color: #717882; font-size: .75em; padding-top:0" | → '''Spell:''' Illusion; '''Dice:''' 2d8+5; '''TN*:''' 12; '''Trigger:''' rub between fingers
|-
| colspan=4 style="color: #717882; font-size: .75em; text-transform: uppercase" bgcolor="#f5f8f9" | [At vehicle (usually department car)]
|-
| Misc Essentials || - || - || -
|-
| colspan=4 style="color: #717882; font-size: .75em; padding-top:0" | → change of clothes, toiletry kit, medicine, water bottle, snacks
|-
| Binoculars || - || - || style="font-size: .8em" | $20
|-
| Evidence Collection Kit || - || - || -
|-
| Zip ties || x10 || - || -
|-
| Laptop (refurbished) || - || - || style="font-size: .8em" | $300
|-
| Chalk x5, notepad and pen || - || - || -
|- bgcolor="#f2f6f7"
| style="text-align: right" colspan=2 | '''Remaining Money'''
| colspan=2 | $1,955
|}

{| style="width: 49%; min-width: 500px; max-width: 800px; display: inline-table; vertical-align:top; margin: 1em 1em 0 0;"
|-
| style="padding: 0" |
{| cellpadding=5 style="width: 100%; display: inline-table; vertical-align:top; border:1px solid #BBB; line-height: 1em;"
|+ style="text-align: left; padding-bottom: .1em; line-height: 1.6em;" | '''Weapons, Attack & Damage'''
|- bgcolor="#f2f6f7"
| || style="font-size: .75em;" | cost || Type || Range || Attack || Damage
|-
| '''Pocketknife''' || $5 || blade || - || '''2d8+5''' || '''1d4+1'''
|-
| colspan=6 style="color: #717882; font-size: .75em; text-transform: uppercase" bgcolor="#f5f8f9" | [Department Issued]
|-
| style="padding-bottom: 0" | '''Pistol, Medium (Capacity: 8)''' || || colspan=2 style="padding-bottom: 0" | ''magical (attuned)'' || style="padding-bottom: 0" | '''3d10+5''' || style="padding-bottom: 0" | '''2d6'''
|-
| colspan=6 style="color: #c3c3c3; font-size: .75em; padding-top: 0; padding-bottom: 0;" | '''Spell:''' Dragon's Flame; '''Dice:''' 2d6+6; '''TN*:''' 9; '''Trigger:''' shoot
|- style="color: #717882; font-size: .85em; padding-top: 0; padding-bottom: 0;"
| colspan=6 style="color: #717882; font-size: .85em; padding-top: 0" | → '''Ammo:''' 50 standard, (+) 16 hollow points
|- style="padding-bottom: 0"
| style="padding-bottom: 0" | '''Pistol, Light''' (Capacity: 10) || || colspan=2 style="padding-bottom: 0" | ''magical (attuned)'' || style="padding-bottom: 0" | '''3d10+5''' || style="padding-bottom: 0" | '''2d4'''
|-
| colspan=6 style="color: #c3c3c3; font-size: .75em; padding-top: 0; padding-bottom: 0;" | '''Spell:''' Cloud of Confusion; '''Dice:''' 1d10+5; '''TN*:''' 9; '''Trigger:''' shoot
|-
| colspan=6 style="color: #717882; font-size: .85em; padding-top: 0" | → '''Ammo:''' 20 rubber
|-
| colspan=6 style="color: #717882; font-size: .75em; text-transform: uppercase" bgcolor="#f5f8f9" | [Unarmed Attacks]
|-
| ''Punch'' || || colspan=2 | ''melee'' || '''''2d10+5''''' || '''''1d4'''''
|-
| ''Kick'' || || colspan=2 | ''melee'' || '''''2d10+5''''' || '''''1d6'''''
|}
|-
| style="padding: 0" |
{| cellpadding=5 style="width: 100%; display: inline-table; vertical-align:top; border:1px solid #BBB; margin-top: .5em; line-height: 1em;"
|+ style="text-align: left; padding-bottom: .1em; line-height: 1.6em;" | '''Clothing and Protection'''
|- bgcolor="#f2f6f7"
| Item || Cost || Type || Location || Effect / Desc
|-
| '''Talisman, Shield''' || $1000 || ''magical'' || style="font-size: .75em" | carabiner belt clip || style="width: 30%; min-width: 100px;" | '''+2 protection to all locations'''; Spend 1MP for extra TN after that
|-
| '''Talisman, Magic Sight''' || $500 || ''magical'' || style="font-size: .75em" | glass orb on necklace || style="width: 30%; min-width: 100px;" | Spend 1MP to see magic currents and residues for a turn
|-
| '''Pendant, Bird''' || - || ''magical (attuned)'' || style="font-size: .75em" | carabiner belt clip || style="font-size: .75em;width: 30%; min-width: 100px;" | '''Spell:''' Shadow Meld; '''Dice:''' 1d6+5; '''TN*:''' 11; '''Trigger:''' rub between fingers
|-
| '''Pendant, Leaf''' || - || ''magical (attuned)'' || style="font-size: .75em" | wrist bracelet || style="font-size: .75em;width: 30%; min-width: 100px;" | '''Spell:''' Combat Teleport; '''Dice:''' 2d8+5; '''TN*:''' 10; '''Trigger:''' breath on it
|-
| '''Pendant, Bell''' || - || ''magical (attuned)'' || style="font-size: .75em" | wrist bracelet || style="font-size: .75em;width: 30%; min-width: 100px;" | '''Spell:''' Illusion; '''Dice:''' 2d8+5; '''TN*:''' 11; '''Trigger:''' rub between fingers
|-
| '''Pendant, Sword''' || - || ''magical (attuned)'' || style="font-size: .75em" | wrist bracelet || style="font-size: .75em;width: 30%; min-width: 100px;" | '''Spell:''' Blade of the Damned; '''Dice:''' 1d6+5; '''TN*:''' 10; '''Trigger:''' rub between fingers
|-
| colspan=5 style="color: #717882; font-size: .75em; text-transform: uppercase" bgcolor="#f5f8f9" | [Department Issued]
|-
| '''Kevlar Vest''' || - || - || Torso || '''+6 protection to torso'''
|}
|-
| colspan=4 style="color: #717882; font-size: .8em; padding-top: .5em" | * '''TN''' to '''disenchant''' item with ''Arcane Attunement'' spell
|}

===Apartment===

Jin lives modestly to save money. Her one room apartment is sparingly furnished, with a bed in a corner, a coffee table as a general purpose desk and floor pillows for chairs. The only decoration is a coat of white paint on the walls. Her essential kitchen appliances are broken secondhands she fixed herself. She complements her rookie income with money from her Enchanter services. Her most prized possession is her collection of books.

All points of entry are protected by Barrier Wards.

{| cellpadding=5 style="width: 100%; max-width: 1300px; display: inline-table; vertical-align:top; border:1px solid #BBB; margin-top: .5em; line-height: 1em;"
|+ style="text-align: left; padding-bottom: .1em; line-height: 1.6em;" | '''Apartment Barrier Wards'''
|- bgcolor="#f2f6f7"
| || Location || Starting || Duration || Ward TN* || Special Condition
|-
| '''Barrier Ward #1''' || Front door, hidden by a rug || Day 2 of game || One month || '''16''' || Only people led by hand by Jin can cross
|-
| '''Barrier Ward #2''' || Wall under both windows at living room || Day 2 of game || One month || '''21''' || Only people led by hand by Jin can cross
|-
| colspan=6 style="color: #717882; font-size: .8em; padding-top: 1em" | * Anyone who tries to cross the Ward must roll a '''Willpower Saving Throw'''. If they roll over the '''TN''', they can cross, but Jin will be alerted to the breach. If they make the roll over 5+, she won't be alerted. To '''destroy''' the Ward they must smudge the writing from inside.
|}

==Mardocheus "Mort" Jones (Cale Knight) ==

===Background===

Mardocheus "Mort" Jones has been with the OCD for his entire career. He was something of a risk-taker in his younger days, running high off of youthful energy and the anger of an ill-spent and ill-fated childhood. But that was years ago. Now he's got a wife, two kids, and a home in Brookline. Pushing 50, he spends more time at his desk than in the field. When he does go, it's to examine crime scenes and interrogate the dead. His family understands that he works in some kind of special crimes division, but they don't understand the true nature of what he does, and he does his very best to keep it that way. In this case, ignorance is truly bliss. When his wife visits the precinct, the last thing she needs to see is her husband casually asking a murder victim if they had a personal relationship with their killer.

And so Mort is looking ahead to his retirement. He goes to his kids' piano recitals and soccer games, barbecues on the weekends, watches his cholesterol, drives a sensible sedan, bugs his coworkers with photos of his vacations, and occasionally shuts down a demon cult. When he told his half-brother Angelo that he'd put in a good word with the Boston OCD, he had no idea that they'd end up working side by side.

===Stats===
----
{|

| width="10%" valign="top" |
{| class="wikitable"
|+
|-
|'''Age'''
|'''''49'''''
|-
|'''Bloodline'''
|'''''Devil-Blooded'''''
|-
|'''Archetype'''
|'''''Scribe'''''
|-
|'''Arcana'''
|'''''The Hermit'''''
|-
|'''Scene Points'''
|'''''3'''''
|-
|'''Wife'''
|'''''Dr. Samantha Jones'''''
|-
|'''Children'''
|'''''Amanda and Benjamin Jones'''''
|-
|'''Siblings'''
|'''''Angelo'''''
|-
|'''Status/Wealth'''
|'''''Very Well Off, $7500 monthly/$250.000 starting'''''
|-
|'''Complication'''
|'''''Slow Runner'''''
|-
|}
| width="10%" valign="top" |
{| class="wikitable"
|+Talents
|-
|'''Petty Magic'''
|''''' '''''
|-
|'''Apprentice'''
|''''' '''''
|-
|'''Scribe Scrolls'''
|''''' '''''
|-
|'''Higher Education'''
|''''' '''''
|-
|}
| width="10%" valign="top" |
{| class="wikitable"
|+Languages
|-
|'''English'''
|'''''4'''''
|-
|'''Enochian'''
|'''''3'''''
|-
|'''Latin'''
|'''''3'''''
|-
|'''Aramaic'''
|'''''3'''''
|-
|'''Spanish'''
|'''''2'''''
|-
|'''Chinese'''
|'''''2'''''
|-
|'''German'''
|'''''2'''''
|-
|'''Ancient Greek'''
|'''''1'''''
|-
|}
| width="10%" valign="top" |
{| class="wikitable"
|+Attributes
|-
|'''STR'''
|'''''2'''''
|-
|'''HLT'''
|'''''3'''''
|-
|'''REF'''
|'''''4'''''
|-
|'''WLP'''
|'''''5'''''
|-
|'''CHR'''
|'''''1'''''
|-
|'''INT'''
|'''''5'''''
|-
|'''HP'''
|'''''24'''''
|-
|'''MP'''
|'''''45'''''
|-
|'''Heal Rate'''
|'''''6 HP/day'''''
|-
|'''Magic Rec.'''
|'''''5 MP/hour'''''
|-
|'''Initiative'''
|'''''1d8+4'''''
|-
|'''Movement'''
|'''''7'''''
|-
|'''Dmg. Mod.'''
|'''''-'''''
|-
|'''Dmg. Res.'''
|'''''5/9'''''
|-
|}
| width="10%" valign="top" |
{| class="wikitable"
|+Skills
|-
|'''History'''
|'''''1d6'''''
|-
|'''Occult'''
|'''''2d6'''''
|-
|'''Augury'''
|'''''2d6'''''
|-
|'''Dodge'''
|'''''2d6'''''
|-
|'''Observation'''
|'''''2d10'''''
|-
|'''Police Sciences'''
|'''''2d10'''''
|-
|'''Blades'''
|'''''2d10'''''
|-
|'''Pistols'''
|'''''3d10'''''
|-
|'''Magic Lore: General'''
|'''''2d10'''''
|-
|'''Magic Lore: Petty'''
|'''''2d6'''''
|-
|'''Magic Lore: Enchanting'''
|'''''2d6'''''
|-
|'''Magic Lore: Necromancy'''
|'''''2d10'''''
|-
|'''Magic Lore: Seer'''
|'''''2d10'''''
|-
|}
| width="10%" valign="top" |
{| class="wikitable"
|+Spells
|-
|'''Petty Magic'''
|'''''2d6'''''
|-
|'''Enchanter'''
|''''' '''''
|-
|'''Smite'''
|'''''2d6'''''
|-
|'''Armor Up'''
|'''''2d6'''''
|-
|'''True Aim'''
|'''''2d6'''''
|-
|'''Necromancer'''
|''''' '''''
|-
|'''Speak with Dead'''
|'''''2d8'''''
|-
|'''Resurrection'''
|'''''2d8'''''
|-
|'''Summon Ghost'''
|'''''2d10'''''
|-
|'''Seer'''
|''''' '''''
|-
|'''Calculated Teleport'''
|'''''2d8'''''
|-
|'''Recall Past Event'''
|'''''2d10'''''
|-
|'''General'''
|''''' '''''
|-
|'''Aegis'''
|'''''2d6'''''
|-
|'''Revealing Eye'''
|'''''2d6'''''
|-
|'''Lock'''
|'''''2d6'''''
|-
|'''Blade of the Damned'''
|'''''2d6'''''
|-

|}

|}

===Equipment===

Remaining money: $1125

*Shield Talisman
*Guardian Ring
*Personalized Ward
*Potion, Healing x2
*Potion, Armor x1
*Potion, Power Elixer x1
*Frogs' Eggs x5
*Frogs' Feet x5

==Angelo Sanctis (Jive Professor) ==

===Background===

===Stats===
----
{|

| width="10%" valign="top" |
{| class="wikitable"
|+
|-
|'''Bloodline'''
|'''''Angel-Blooded'''''
|-
|'''Archetype'''
|'''''Devil Hunter'''''
|-
|'''Arcana'''
|'''''The Hierophant'''''
|-
|'''Scene Points'''
|'''''3'''''
|-
|'''Mother'''
|'''''Elena Sanctis (deceased)'''''
|-
|'''Siblings'''
|'''''Mort'''''
|-
|'''Status/Wealth'''
|'''''Middle Class, $1750 monthly/$7500 starting'''''
|-
|'''Complication'''
|'''''Vendetta (Velderax the Hungering, mother's suspected killer)'''''
|-
|}
| width="10%" valign="top" |
{| class="wikitable"
|+Talents
|-
|'''Angelic Blade'''
|''''' '''''
|-
|'''Angelic Aegis'''
|''''' '''''
|-
|'''Fine Looks'''
|''''' '''''
|-
|'''Badass (Blades)'''
|''''' '''''
|-
|}
| width="10%" valign="top" |
{| class="wikitable"
|+Languages
|-
|'''English'''
|'''''4'''''
|-
|'''Italian'''
|'''''4'''''
|-
|}
| width="10%" valign="top" |
{| class="wikitable"
|+Attributes
|-
|'''STR'''
|'''''5'''''
|-
|'''HLT'''
|'''''5'''''
|-
|'''REF'''
|'''''5'''''
|-
|'''WLP'''
|'''''2'''''
|-
|'''CHR'''
|'''''3'''''
|-
|'''INT'''
|'''''2'''''
|-
|'''HP'''
|'''''89'''''
|-
|'''MP'''
|'''''15'''''
|-
|'''Heal Rate'''
|'''''10 HP/day'''''
|-
|'''Magic Rec.'''
|'''''2 MP/hour'''''
|-
|'''Initiative'''
|'''''1d8+5'''''
|-
|'''Movement'''
|'''''15'''''
|-
|'''Dmg. Mod.'''
|'''''+1d8'''''
|-
|'''Experience Points'''
|'''''+3'''''
|-
|}
| width="10%" valign="top" |
{| class="wikitable"
|+Skills
|-
|'''Athletics'''
|'''''3d10'''''
|-
|'''Augury'''
|'''''3d10'''''
|-
|'''Blades'''
|'''''3d10'''''
|-
|'''Brawling'''
|'''''3d10'''''
|-
|'''Dodge'''
|'''''3d10'''''
|-
|'''First Aid'''
|'''''3d10'''''
|-
|'''Improvised Weapons'''
|'''''3d10'''''
|-
|'''Occultism'''
|'''''3d10'''''
|-
|'''Pistols'''
|'''''3d10'''''
|-
|'''Resist Torture/Interrogation'''
|'''''3d10'''''
|-
|'''Magic Lore: Devil Hunter'''
|'''''3d10'''''
|-
|'''Observation'''
|'''''1d6'''''
|-
|}
| width="10%" valign="top" |
{| class="wikitable"
|+Spells
|-
|'''Devil Hunter'''
|''''' '''''
|-
|'''Divine Aura'''
|'''''3d10'''''
|-
|'''Track Prey'''
|'''''3d10'''''
|-
|'''Quick Pursuit'''
|'''''3d10'''''
|-
|}

|}

===Equipment===

==Nikita "Nikki" Orlov (Dudley Do-Right) ==

===Background===

Nikita was born and raised in a suburb of Kursk in Russia. Her father owned a liquor store and her mother worked at a flower shop. Nikki loved school as a child and did well in nearly every subject. In her early teens, she became involved with a local gang at the urging of a boy she had a crush on. He was a couple of years older than she was and to her, he seemed very worldly and smart about everything you didn’t learn in school. The crimes she helped commit were pretty minor, some shoplifting, purse snatching, pickpocketing, stealing credit cards, and similar deeds. It wasn’t long before she learned the gang was part of a bigger criminal organization that was involved in identity theft. Stolen information was either sold or used to create fake identifications for people to use to travel to other countries or immigrate to America. Nikki was concerned about this until she saw how much money she was making working for the gang. She got bolder, walking into restaurants and stealing credit cards off the tables of diners and running away.

One day during her 16th year of age Nikki got caught. She was brought to the local police station and interrogated for hours. The police asked over and over again for names and locations of the people the gang reported to. Nikki cried and kept telling them over and over that she knew nothing. She asked to see her parents and her request was refused. Nikki was scared. She thought the police would send her far away and that she would never see her parents, sister, brother, or friends again.

Eventually a woman came in to see her. The woman was older, probably about her parents’ age, in her 40’s or so. She was very nice, much nicer than the other police officers. She gave Nikki a sandwich and some water to drink. She told Nikki that her name was Natalya Petrov and she asked a few questions, mostly the same as the other officers. She asked Nikki if she had ever seen anything strange. The woman asked if she had ever seen anything that looked like witchcraft or like demons or other strange creatures. Nikki shook her head no. She answered that she had never seen anything like that. That stuff wasn’t real, was it? That was just stuff they told you in church to make you behave.

The woman told Nikki that she was special and that she needed to go away to a special school. Nikki cried about leaving her friends and family. Natalya assured her that her family would be moving as well so they could be near her. Nikki asked where they were moving to and was told America. A couple of minutes later Nikki’s mother arrived. She sat next to Nikki and calmed her down. Nikki told her about the bad things she had been doing. Her mother said that she knew something was going on since Nikki had been buying so many nice things lately. Nikki apologized to her mother and swore never to do that kind of stuff again. Her mother leaned over and whispered in her ear that everything was going to be all right. That there were a lot of things that she didn’t know about her parents. Her mother told Nikki that she was a Witch and that there was a good chance that she had inherited some magic ability. Her mother assured her that everything was going to be okay and that she wasn’t going to jail or be sent to a labor camp. There was a school for special children like her in Florida in America. There she would meet others like her and learn how to harness her talents. She would need to learn these things to protect herself.

Soon the family relocated to a town near Miami, Florida. Nikki attended a special school for gifted children. There were many children there of all ages and nationalities. Nikki was a reluctant student at first, having a difficult with the different languages she was expected to learn. In time, she settled down and studied hard. Nikki learned she had a natural inclination towards enchantment. Some of the other students were better at brute magic, some at divinations, some at blasting stuff, and a few at being sneaky.

When Nikki was 19, she was summoned from class by the Headmaster. She was told there had been a terrible accident at her home. Nikki rushed there and discovered police officers all over the place. She ran to the door and was grabbed by one of the officers. She was told she couldn’t go in there. It was too horrifying. Nikki demanded to go in and broke free. As soon as she entered the living room, her heart sank. There were 2 bodies on the floor covered with sheets. One was clearly female while the other looked more animalistic. Did some wild animal break into her home? Where was her family? Another officer came in and escorted her outside where her father was waiting. He told her that her mother was dead, killed by a creature of some sort. He came home to find them fighting. He grabbed his gun and killed the creature but her mother had been too badly wounded and died shortly after.

Nikki stayed out of school for a couple of weeks. When she returned, she poured all her energy into her studies, determined to be prepared in case more creatures come to attack her family. A couple of years later, she was approached by a man named Walter Gomes. He said he was a police officer in a special unit that investigated strange things. He had heard about her mother’s death and offered Nikki a chance to enroll in the Police Academy. Nikki agreed and after graduation, went to work for the Miami Police Department. She soon discovered she had a knack for talking to people and getting them to answer questions. She was assigned the task of talking to witnesses, especially those that may be reluctant to talk to regular police officers.

After a few years of experience doing this, she was offered a similar position in the city of Boston. Her sister had attended University up there and stayed after graduating with a law degree. Nikki felt it would be nice to be near her older sister and accepted the position. She found a small apartment in the Allston area. It was an easy commute to work using the public transit system and there were other Russians in the area to make her feel at home.

===Stats===
----
{|

| width="10%" valign="top" |
{| class="wikitable"
|+
|-
|'''Age'''
|'''''30'''''
|-
|'''Hair'''
|'''''Brown'''''
|-
|'''Eyes'''
|'''''Hazel'''''
|-
|'''Height'''
|'''''5' 7"'''''
|-
|'''Bloodline'''
|'''''Half-Blooded'''''
|-
|'''Archetype'''
|'''''Enchanter'''''
|-
|'''Arcana'''
|'''''The Empress'''''
|-
|'''Scene Points'''
|'''''4'''''
|-
|'''Mother'''
|'''''Deceased'''''
|-
|'''Father'''
|'''''Mikhail Orlov'''''
|-
|'''Brother'''
|'''''Andrei Orlov'''''
|-
|'''Sister'''
|'''''Lidia Sorkov'''''
|-
|'''Childhood'''
|'''''Teacher's Pet'''''
|-
|'''Adolescence'''
|'''''Caught up in criminal activity'''''
|-
|'''Adulthood'''
|'''''Studied Hard'''''
|-
|'''Occupation'''
|'''''Police Interrogator and Witness Interviewer'''''
|-
|'''Status/Wealth'''
|'''''Middle Class, $1750 monthly/$7500 starting'''''
|-
|'''Complication'''
|'''''Marked'''''
|-
|}
| width="10%" valign="top" |
{| class="wikitable"
|+Talents
|-
|'''Enchanted Ranged Weapon (Enchanter)'''
|'''''Ring does 2d6+2 damage, extra: deals 2 AP'''''
|-
|'''Alchemy Stone (Enchanter)'''
|'''''Stores 15 magic points (looks like carved wood bracelet)'''''
|-
|'''Fine Looks'''
|'''''-2 TN on social skills'''''
|-
|'''Silent Caster'''
|''''' '''''
|-
|}
| width="10%" valign="top" |
{| class="wikitable"
|+Languages
|-
|'''English'''
|'''''3'''''
|-
|'''Russian'''
|'''''4'''''
|-
|'''Italian'''
|'''''3'''''
|-
|'''Latin'''
|'''''3'''''
|-
|'''Ancient Greek'''
|'''''3'''''
|-
|}
| width="10%" valign="top" |
{| class="wikitable"
|+Attributes
|-
|'''STR'''
|'''''2'''''
|-
|'''HLT'''
|'''''4'''''
|-
|'''REF'''
|'''''3'''''
|-
|'''WLP'''
|'''''4'''''
|-
|'''CHR'''
|'''''3'''''
|-
|'''INT'''
|'''''4'''''
|-
|'''HP'''
|'''''41'''''
|-
|'''MP'''
|'''''30'''''
|-
|'''Heal Rate'''
|'''''8 HP/day'''''
|-
|'''Magic Rec.'''
|'''''4 MP/hour'''''
|-
|'''Initiative'''
|'''''1d8+3'''''
|-
|'''Movement'''
|'''''8'''''
|-
|'''Dmg. Mod.'''
|'''''-'''''
|-
|}
| width="10%" valign="top" |
{| class="wikitable"
|+Skills
|-
|'''Alchemy'''
|'''''2d10'''''
|-
|'''Athletics'''
|'''''1d8'''''
|-
|'''Botany'''
|'''''2d8'''''
|-
|'''Crafting'''
|'''''2d10'''''
|-
|'''Fast Talk'''
|'''''2d8'''''
|-
|'''Improvised Weapons'''
|'''''1d8'''''
|-
|'''Interrogation'''
|'''''2d10'''''
|-
|'''Law'''
|'''''1d8'''''
|-
|'''Lock Picking'''
|'''''2d8'''''
|-
|'''Observation'''
|'''''1d8'''''
|-
|'''Persuade'''
|'''''2d8'''''
|-
|'''Pistols'''
|'''''2d8'''''
|-
|'''Police Science'''
|'''''1d6'''''
|-
|'''Seduction'''
|'''''1d8'''''
|-
|'''Streetwise'''
|'''''1d8'''''
|-
|'''Magic Lore: General'''
|'''''2d8'''''
|-
|'''Magic Lore: Enchanter'''
|'''''2d10'''''
|-
|}
| width="10%" valign="top" |
{| class="wikitable"
|+Spells
|-
|'''Enchanter'''
|''''' '''''
|-
|'''Armor Up'''
|'''''2d8'''''
|-
|'''Assume Appearance'''
|'''''2d8'''''
|-
|'''Smite'''
|'''''1d8'''''
|-
|'''Structural Manipulation'''
|'''''2d8'''''
|-
|'''General'''
|''''' '''''
|-
|'''Arcane Bolt'''
|'''''1d8'''''
|-
|'''Cure Wound'''
|'''''1d8'''''
|-
|'''Lock'''
|'''''2d8'''''
|-
|}

|}

===Equipment===

Remaining money: $5805

Cellphone (dept issue)
Light Pistol $200 (2d4 dmg, recoil 0, capacity 10, rate of fire 1, burst 2)
Med Pistol (dept issue) (2d6 dmg, recoil +1, capacity 8, rate of fire 1, burst 2)
Flashlight $5
Laptop $300
Lockpicks $50
Zip ties $20 (10)
Hunting knife $40 (1d6+1 dmg)
Personal Ward (tattoo on back) $500 (-1 TN on saving throws vs spells)
Talisman-warning (Cross pendant) $400 (Cannot be ambushed)

==Ebenezer "Ben" Falken (Cerulean Lion)==

===Background===

Ebenezer Falken grew up in the poorest part of a small Massachusetts town that was itself on the edge of poverty. His family were poorly thought of even in his own neighborhood: his father was too sickly to keep a steady job for long and mother was either mentally ill or just weird. (In fact she was an untrained Seer who didn't know what she was.)

Ben had a hard time in school partly because of his family's reputation, partly because his desire to learn got him labelled as a nerd. He actually wanted to learn Latin!
On the other hand he made some friendships among the Algonquin children and actually learned to speak their language adequately.
Ben didn't do well in the schoolyard fights though he tried hard. Eventually he learned to be a sneaky fighter. Of course the other boys despised him for "fighting dirty" but they began to leave him alone.

Ben's magical potential was noticed by a Grunt attached to a local criminal gang/cult. They recruited him and began his training. It didn't take long for Ben to realize these were not good people.
It did take a while to find out there were better choices available. When he did, he bolted. Now he works for Boston OCD, and his parents finally got the help they needed. His father is in good health and making a decent living. His mother's visions are under control and actually do the family some good now.

Ebenezer is a Half-Blood: his mother had the Gift but never got any training till Ben hooked up with the people who got him some training and then a place with the OCD.
He has two brothers, one older and one younger. Two sisters; one is his twin, the other younger. His parents and little brother Samuel still live in Loadabar Crossing: they make a decent living now. The others moved to Boston.

===Stats===
----
{|

| width="10%" valign="top" |
{| class="wikitable"
|+
|-
|'''Bloodline'''
|'''''Half-Blooded'''''
|-
|'''Archetype'''
|'''''Shadow'''''
|-
|'''Arcana'''
|'''''The Wheel of Fortune'''''
|-
|'''Scene Points'''
|'''''4'''''
|-
|'''Father'''
|'''''Ezekiel Falken. Occupation Carpenter/Handyman.'''''
|-
|'''Mother'''
|'''''Rosetta Falken (born Rosetta Stone). Occupation Homemaker'''''
|-
|'''Brother'''
|'''''Older brother Elijah. Occupation Electrician.'''''
|-
|'''Brother'''
|'''''Younger brother Samuel. Occupation Carpenter.'''''
|-
|'''Sister'''
|'''''Twin sister Ruth. Occupation Security Guard. '''''
|-
|'''Sister'''
|'''''Younger sister Esther. Occupation Student. Senior year of High School. '''''
|-
|'''Status/Wealth'''
|'''''Middle Class, $1750 monthly/$7500 starting'''''
|-
|'''Complication'''
|'''''Glass Jaw'''''
|-
|}
| width="10%" valign="top" |
{| class="wikitable"
|+Talents
|-
|'''Shadow Walk'''
|''''' '''''
|-
|'''Striking Shadow'''
|''''' '''''
|-
|'''Silent Caster'''
|''''' '''''
|-
|}
| width="10%" valign="top" |
{| class="wikitable"
|+Languages
|-
|'''English'''
|'''''4'''''
|-
|'''Enochian'''
|'''''2'''''
|-
|'''Massachusetts/Algonquian'''
|'''''3'''''
|-
|'''Spanish'''
|'''''2'''''
|-
|'''Aramaic'''
|'''''2'''''
|-
|'''Latin'''
|'''''3'''''
|-
|}
| width="10%" valign="top" |
{| class="wikitable"
|+Attributes
|-
|'''STR'''
|'''''3'''''
|-
|'''HLT'''
|'''''4'''''
|-
|'''REF'''
|'''''5'''''
|-
|'''WLP'''
|'''''3'''''
|-
|'''CHR'''
|'''''2'''''
|-
|'''INT'''
|'''''4'''''
|-
|'''HP'''
|'''''53'''''
|-
|'''MP'''
|'''''25'''''
|-
|'''Heal Rate'''
|'''''8 HP/day'''''
|-
|'''Magic Rec.'''
|'''''3 MP/hour'''''
|-
|'''Initiative'''
|'''''1d8+5'''''
|-
|'''Movement'''
|'''''13'''''
|-
|'''Dmg. Mod.'''
|'''''+1d3'''''
|-
|}
| width="10%" valign="top" |
{| class="wikitable"
|+Skills
|-
|'''Augury'''
|'''''3d6'''''
|-
|'''Brawl'''
|'''''2d8'''''
|-
|'''Computer Operation'''
|'''''2d6'''''
|-
|'''Drive Car'''
|'''''2d6'''''
|-
|'''Stealth'''
|'''''3d10'''''
|-
|'''Lock Picking'''
|'''''2d8'''''
|-
|'''Observation'''
|'''''2d8'''''
|-
|'''Pistol'''
|'''''2d8'''''
|-
|'''Police Sciences'''
|'''''3d8'''''
|-
|'''Security'''
|'''''3d8'''''
|-
|'''Magic Lore: General'''
|'''''2d8'''''
|-
|'''Magic Lore: Shadow'''
|'''''3d8'''''
|-
|}
| width="10%" valign="top" |
{| class="wikitable"
|+Spells
|-
|'''Shadow'''
|''''' '''''
|-
|'''Combat Teleport'''
|'''''3d8'''''
|-
|'''Create Door'''
|'''''2d8'''''
|-
|'''Invisibility'''
|'''''3d8'''''
|-
|'''Silence'''
|'''''3d8'''''
|-
|'''Fleeting Shadow'''
|'''''3d8'''''
|-
|'''Walk on Walls'''
|'''''3d8'''''
|-
|'''General'''
|''''' '''''
|-
|'''Arcane Bolt'''
|'''''1d6'''''
|-
|'''Cure Wounds'''
|'''''2d8'''''
|}

|}

===Equipment===

Magical Equipment:
Talismans, two.
Heal Accelerant. Boosts any healing received by +2 regardless of source.
Magic Sight. Spend 1 magic point to see "magic currents and residue" for one turn.

Mundane Equipment:

Small apartment in the same neighborhood as Seventh Heaven and Ninth Hell. Ben patronizes both places, Heaven much more than Hell. (Notes in post # 114 of this thread.)
No personal car. Ben uses a department car when needed for work and the bus lines for personal transport.

High-performance laptop at home. Tablet and smartphone for use away from home.
No TV set.
A small collection of movies on DVD. A larger collection of books, both paper and DVD.

==Devin Brandt (Chronicler)==

[[Devin_Brandt|To Devin's Page ]]

===Background===

In the eternal war between Heaven and Hell, there are a handful of bloodlines being fostered by Angels for their own purposes. Devin, through his mother's side, belongs to one such angelic lineage. And as a distant branch of the Merovingian[1] dynasty, he has inherited the talents and power of a Seer.

Born to an unassuming middle-class family in the small town of Carlisle just northwest of Boston, with a deputy sheriff for a father (Michael), an elementary school teacher for a mother (Diane), and a teenage sister (Margaret) still in high school, Devin has led a relatively normal life, aside from being trained in the ways of magic. With plans to follow in his father's footsteps in law enforcement, he moved to Boston to attend college and subsequently enrolled in the Police Academy upon graduation.

After joining the Occult Crimes Division of the Massachusetts State Police, where his Seer abilities have proven to be particularly useful, Devin now finds himself embroiled in the political machinations of Heaven and Hell. However, determined not to merely be a pawn in the grand scheme of things, he is ambitiously attempting to make a name for himself among the Celestial Host. The Angels have need of unbound human agents and he is willing to cooperate if the terms are right.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[1] In truth, the Merovingians have no direct ties to Jesus of Nazareth, but the widespread fiction has served as a convenient cover for Angels to coopt the bloodline.

===Stats===
----
{|

| width="10%" valign="top" |
{| class="wikitable"
|+
|-
|'''Bloodline'''
|'''''Angel-Blooded'''''
|-
|'''Archetype'''
|'''''Seer'''''
|-
|'''Arcana'''
|'''''The Sun'''''
|-
|'''Scene Points'''
|'''''3'''''
|-
|'''Father'''
|'''''Michael. Occupation Deputy Sheriff.'''''
|-
|'''Mother'''
|'''''Diane. Occupation Elementary School Teacher.'''''
|-
|'''Sister'''
|'''''Younger sister Margaret. Occupation High School Student.'''''
|-
|'''Status/Wealth'''
|'''''Middle Class, $1750 monthly/$7500 starting'''''
|-
|'''Complication'''
|'''''Marked'''''
|-
|}
| width="10%" valign="top" |
{| class="wikitable"
|+Talents
|-
|'''Danger Sense (Seer)'''
|'''''You can't be ambushed. And you get a +2 bonus to Initiative.'''''
|-
|'''Third Eye (Seer)'''
|'''''You can view someone's aura and get a strong sense of what motivates them. (3/Session)'''''
|-
|'''Fine Looks'''
|'''''You get a -2 TN bonus to all social Skill rolls where the other party can see you.'''''
|-
|'''Petty Magic'''
|'''''You have access to all the Spells on the Petty Magic List.'''''
|-
|'''Strong-Willed'''
|'''''You get a -2 TN bonus to all Willpower Saving Throws.'''''
|-
|}
| width="10%" valign="top" |
{| class="wikitable"
|+Languages
|-
|'''English'''
|'''''4'''''
|-
|'''Enochian'''
|'''''4'''''
|-
|'''French'''
|'''''4'''''
|-
|'''Latin'''
|'''''4'''''
|-
|}
| width="10%" valign="top" |
{| class="wikitable"
|+Attributes
|-
|'''STR'''
|'''''3'''''
|-
|'''HLT'''
|'''''3'''''
|-
|'''REF'''
|'''''3'''''
|-
|'''WLP'''
|'''''4'''''
|-
|'''CHR'''
|'''''3'''''
|-
|'''INT'''
|'''''4'''''
|-
|'''HP'''
|'''''32'''''
|-
|'''MP'''
|'''''35'''''
|-
|'''Heal Rate'''
|'''''6 HP/day'''''
|-
|'''Magic Rec.'''
|'''''4 MP/hour'''''
|-
|'''Initiative'''
|'''''1d8+5'''''
|-
|'''Movement'''
|'''''9'''''
|-
|'''Dmg. Mod.'''
|'''''+1d3'''''
|-
|}
| width="10%" valign="top" |
{| class="wikitable"
|+Skills
|-
|'''Athletics'''
|'''''2d8'''''
|-
|'''Augury'''
|'''''2d10'''''
|-
|'''Brawling'''
|'''''2d8'''''
|-
|'''Dodge'''
|'''''2d8'''''
|-
|'''Observation'''
|'''''2d8'''''
|-
|'''Occultism'''
|'''''2d10'''''
|-
|'''Persuasion'''
|'''''2d8'''''
|-
|'''Pistols'''
|'''''2d8'''''
|-
|'''Police Sciences'''
|'''''2d8'''''
|-
|'''Streetwise'''
|'''''2d8'''''
|-
|'''Magic Lore: General'''
|'''''2d10'''''
|-
|'''Magic Lore: Petty'''
|'''''2d8'''''
|-
|'''Magic Lore: Seer'''
|'''''2d10'''''
|-
|}
| width="10%" valign="top" |
{| class="wikitable"
|+Spells
|-
|'''Petty'''
|'''''2d8'''''
|-
|'''Seer'''
|''''' '''''
|-
|'''Mind Shield'''
|'''''2d8'''''
|-
|'''Recall Past Events'''
|'''''2d10'''''
|-
|'''Telekinesis'''
|'''''2d10'''''
|-
|'''Telepathy'''
|'''''2d10'''''
|-
|'''General'''
|''''' '''''
|-
|'''Cure Wounds'''
|'''''2d8'''''
|-
|'''Revealing Eye'''
|'''''2d8'''''
|-
|'''Sunlight'''
|'''''2d10'''''
|-
|}

|}

===Equipment===

MAGIC ITEMS
Healing Potion
Power Elixir
Ruby Dust
Shield Talisman (+2 Protection to all Hit Locations)

EQUIPMENT (PERSONAL)
CharlieCard (Bus & Subway Fare)
Debit Card
Driver's License
Keyring w/ Keys
Laptop Computer
Light Pistol
Messenger Bag
MMA Gym Membership Card
Petty Cash
Smartphone
Wallet
Wristwatch

EQUIPMENT (WORK-ISSUED)
Basic Evidence Collection Kit
Cell Phone
Collapsible Baton
Extra Ammunition
Field Radio
Handcuffs
Kevlar Vest
Laptop Computer
Medium Pistol
Multi-Tool Pocket Knife
Police Badge
Security Pass w/ Photo ID
Shoulder Holster

==Jack Leland (Jacob Farnham)==

[https://drive.google.com/file/d/1x2ohHbDximakr0gqhCWUsSOa8a0JuWe9/view Picture]

===Background===

Jacob Farnham was born to Veronica Stadtler, herself the daughter of a woman who was the illegitimate daughter of one of the bad old mob leader members of the Laskowski family. In fact she worked her way back into the family as a servant after her father’s death as a method of getting close to exact revenge about how she had been neglected, and was instrumental in passing on information that helped to lead to the downfall of that part of the family.

Ironically, her daughter kept her relationship with the remnant of the family for her personal interest, using old contacts to make a good side gig as a supplier of illegal magical supplies (even though neither her nor her mother had any magical ability of their own). Her son was raised with children of that Laskowski branch, and got particularly close to their oldest daughter, Tatiana; this closeness exposed him to magical activities and ended up revealing that unlike his mother and grandmother he was a latent mage.

And then it came apart.

Because of course the OCD had kept an occasional eye on the Laskowskis just in case, and they finally figured out the connection between Veronica Stadtler-Farnham and certain illegal materials working their way into town. Jacob’s parents were killed in an accident during the attempt to arrest her that involved certain highly volatile alchemical materials cooking off during gunfire. In his mid teens at this time, Jacob fled and went to ground, and then when he came to his senses, realized that he’d likely find himself under all the wrong scrutiny based on his mother and his magical abilities. For a couple of years he moved from town to town elsewhere, using his magic and knowledge from his mother of the occult underworld to keep himself alive.

But over time, he came to detest a lot of what he saw around him. He wanted to do something about it, but knew with his background he’d be fighting an uphill fight to become involved in law enforcement. So using his contacts, he constructed a new identity: Jack Leland, abandoned on doorstep at a young age and kited from foster home to foster home. He joined the Boston Police Academy, and graduated without anyone detecting his false identity, soon moving into undercover work (because his background made it easy for him to fit in), and then quietly brought himself to the attention of the OCD, who snapped up the young undercover mage.

===Stats===
----
{|

| width="10%" valign="top" |
{| class="wikitable"
|+
|-
|'''Bloodline'''
|'''''Half-Blooded'''''
|-
|'''Archetype'''
|'''''Grunt'''''
|-
|'''Arcana'''
|'''''Death'''''
|-
|'''Scene Points'''
|'''''4'''''
|-
|'''Parents'''
|'''''Both deceased'''''
|-
|'''Siblings'''
|'''''None'''''
|-
|'''Childhood'''
|'''''Life Long Friend'''''
|-
|'''Adolescence'''
|'''''Caught Up in Criminal Activity'''''
|-
|'''Occupation'''
|'''''Undercover Policeman'''''
|-
|'''Status/Wealth'''
|'''''Criminal Family (2500/12500)'''''
|-
|'''Complication'''
|'''''Secret (True Identity)'''''
|-
|}
| width="10%" valign="top" |
{| class="wikitable"
|+Talents
|-
|'''Combat Sense'''
|''''' '''''
|-
|'''Alternate ID'''
|''''' '''''
|-
|'''Silent Caster'''
|''''' '''''
|-
|}
| width="10%" valign="top" |
{| class="wikitable"
|+Languages
|-
|'''English'''
|'''''4'''''
|-
|'''Russian'''
|'''''3'''''
|-
|'''Spanish'''
|'''''3'''''
|-
|'''Cantonese'''
|'''''2'''''
|-
|}
| width="10%" valign="top" |
{| class="wikitable"
|+Attributes
|-
|'''STR'''
|'''''3'''''
|-
|'''HLT'''
|'''''4'''''
|-
|'''REF'''
|'''''4'''''
|-
|'''WLP'''
|'''''4'''''
|-
|'''CHR'''
|'''''3'''''
|-
|'''INT'''
|'''''3'''''
|-
|'''HP'''
|'''''48'''''
|-
|'''MP'''
|'''''25'''''
|-
|'''Heal Rate'''
|'''''8 HP/day'''''
|-
|'''Magic Rec.'''
|'''''4 MP/hour'''''
|-
|'''Initiative'''
|'''''1d8+9'''''
|-
|'''Movement'''
|'''''11''''
|-
|'''Dmg. Mod.'''
|'''''+1d3'''''
|-
|}
| width="10%" valign="top" |
{| class="wikitable"
|+Skills
|-
|'''Athletics'''
|'''''2D6'''''
|-
|'''Blades'''
|'''''2D6'''''
|-
|'''Brawling'''
|'''''1D6'''''
|-
|'''Disguise'''
|'''''2D6'''''
|-
|'''Dodge'''
|'''''1D6'''''
|-
|'''Drive'''
|'''''1D6'''''
|-
|'''Escape'''
|'''''1D6'''''
|-
|'''Fast Talk'''
|'''''2D8'''''
|-
|'''Improvised Weapons'''
|'''''1D6'''''
|-
|'''Intimidation'''
|'''''1D6'''''
|-
|'''Magic Lore: Grunt'''
|'''''2D6'''''
|-
|'''Magic Lore: General'''
|'''''2D6'''''
|-
|'''Observation'''
|'''''2D6'''''
|-
|'''Pistols'''
|'''''1D6'''''
|-
|'''Police Science'''
|'''''1D6'''''
|-
|'''Security Systems'''
|'''''2D6'''''
|-
|'''Sleight of Hand'''
|'''''2D6'''''
|-
|'''Stealth'''
|'''''2D6'''''
|-
|'''Streetwise'''
|'''''D8'''''
|-
|}
| width="10%" valign="top" |
{| class="wikitable"
|+Spells
|-
|'''Speed of Hermes'''
|'''''2D6'''''
|-
|'''Super Leap'''
|'''''2D6'''''
|-
|'''Titan’s Strength'''
|'''''2D6'''''
|-
|'''Arcane Bolt'''
|'''''2D6'''''
|-
|'''Blade of the Damned'''
|'''''2D6'''''
|-
|'''Darkness'''
|'''''2D6'''''
|-
|'''Hardened Skin'''
|'''''2D6'''''
|-
|'''Lesser Presence'''
|'''''2D6'''''
|-
|'''Lock'''
|'''''2D6'''''
|-
|'''Night Sight'''
|'''''2D6'''''
|-
|'''Reduce Size'''
|'''''2D6'''''
|}

|}

===Equipment===

$1920 remaining:

[While Jack has been issued a vest, service weapon and the usual OCD equipment, because of his operating procedure and habit he rarely has them on him or in a vehicle with him).

Light Pistol (hideout)
(Box of ammo elsewhere)
Brass Knuckles
Bugs
Zip Ties
Extra Energy Ring
Shield Talisman
Ley Line Handler Talisman
Magic Sight Talismen
5 Doses of Power Elixir
5 Doses of Healing Elixir

==Riley Foster==

===Background===
Riley Foster seemed to have a charmed life. Her parents were scions of 2 wealthy families – a nouveau-riche tech millionaire (paternal grandfather with her father set up to take over the business) and a well-heeled Boston institution (her mother's family). Her mother was a socialite, dragging her daughter to her weekly visits to her psychic's magic shop.

When she was young, the psychic revealed to Riley’s mother portents of doom and death for her only child. Angry and afraid, Riley’s mother found a new psychic – it’s never financially wise to give bad news, but the strength of her visions could not be denied.

And the psychic, Ms. Gloria, could not forget the future she’d foreseen. She later befriended Riley when the girl hit her teens and lost her mother to cancer. Ms. Gloria became her surrogate mother, and the psychic never shared the doom she’d seen for the girl.

Riley went to college, and years passed as she bounced around between majors. And then her doom struck.

It’s a classic of a sort – there was a cult, and a demon who demanded a sacrifice in pain and blood. Through some quirk of the genetic dice Riley had magic in her blood that attracted the demon’s interest.

As the knife was plunging down to carve out Riley’s heart, the OCD broke into the room and stopped the ritual. The demon was feeding on Riley’s soul just as the demon's hold on Riley shattered.

Riley didn’t want to die, and once free she instinctively grabbed at the magic in her blood and pulled. The demon was driven away by the OCD when Riley pulled – not only did the Demon lose its hold on Riley, but Riley also pulled some of the demon’s power into herself in the chaos.

The angels in the joint venture to disperse the cult were appalled by the demon-touched Riley. While she was still weak they tried to finish what the cult had started. Luckily, Ms. Gloria was a part of the raid – she’d been the SI the OCD was using to find Riley. The OCD stopped their angelic compatriots before anything further was done to Riley, but Riley never forgot that on that day both the demon _and_ the angels had tried to kill her.

Once the ordeal was over and the local media had forgotten her, Riley went back to college to study criminal justice. She also turned down a few overtures from the demon's minions -- he wants his power back by either killing or converting Riley. So far, she's managed to keep him at bay.

Once graduating college, she joined the local police academy. A few years later she was still keeping her head down and being a reliable cop until she heard of an opening in a special division that investigated cult-related crimes. She applied and got in. She is ready to be the one who stops the bad guys... and the angels should they over-step again.

===Stats===
----
{|

| width="10%" valign="top" |
{| class="wikitable"
|+
|-
|'''Concept'''
|'''''Determined Cult Survivor'''''
|-
|'''Bloodline'''
|'''''Devil Blood'''''
|-
|'''Archetype'''
|'''''Angel Slayer'''''
|-
|'''Arcana'''
|'''''The Moon'''''
|-
|'''Scene Points'''
|'''''3'''''
|-
|'''Parents'''
|'''''Father living'''''
|-
|'''Siblings'''
|'''''None'''''
|-
|'''Childhood'''
|'''''Foretold Doom'''''
|-
|'''Adolescence'''
|'''''Connection Made (Ms. Gloria)'''''
|-
|'''Occupation'''
|'''''Cop'''''
|-
|'''Status/Wealth'''
|'''''Well-to-do Family ties ($3K/$25K)'''''
|-
|'''Complication'''
|'''''Enemy'''''
|-
|}
| width="10%" valign="top" |
{| class="wikitable"
|+Talents
|-
|'''Demon Blood'''
|''''' '''''
|-
|'''Demon's Sense'''
|''''' '''''
|-
|'''Strong-Willed'''
|''''' '''''
|-
|}
| width="10%" valign="top" |
{| class="wikitable"
|+Languages
|-
|'''English'''
|'''''4'''''
|-
|'''Spanish'''
|'''''4'''''
|-
|'''Haitian Creole'''
|'''''4'''''
|-
|'''Enochian'''
|'''''4'''''
|-
|}
| width="10%" valign="top" |
{| class="wikitable"
|+Attributes
|-
|'''STR'''
|'''''4'''''
|-
|'''HLT'''
|'''''4'''''
|-
|'''REF'''
|'''''3'''''
|-
|'''WLP'''
|'''''3'''''
|-
|'''CHR'''
|'''''2'''''
|-
|'''INT'''
|'''''4'''''
|-
|'''HP'''
|'''''60'''''
|-
|'''MP'''
|'''''30'''''
|-
|'''Heal Rate'''
|'''''8 HP/day'''''
|-
|'''Magic Rec.'''
|'''''3 MP/hour'''''
|-
|'''Initiative'''
|'''''1d8+3'''''
|-
|'''Movement'''
|'''''10'''''
|-
|'''Dmg. Mod.'''
|'''''+1d6'''''
|-
|}
| width="10%" valign="top" |
{| class="wikitable"
|+Skills
|-
|'''Athletics'''
|'''''2d8'''''
|-
|'''Brawling'''
|'''''3d8'''''
|-
|'''Dodge'''
|'''''2d8'''''
|-
|'''Magic Lore (Angel Slayer)'''
|'''''3d10'''''
|-
|'''Magic Lore (General)'''
|'''''3d10'''''
|-
|'''Observation'''
|'''''2d10'''''
|-
|'''Occultism'''
|'''''2d8'''''
|-
|'''Persuade'''
|'''''2d8'''''
|-
|'''Pistols'''
|'''''2d8'''''
|-
|'''Police Sciences'''
|'''''2d10'''''
|-
|'''Resist Torture/Interrogation'''
|'''''1d10'''''
|-
|'''Rifle'''
|'''''1d8'''''
|-
|'''Streetwise'''
|'''''2d8'''''
|-
|}
| width="10%" valign="top" |
{| class="wikitable"
|+Spells
|-
|'''Furious Fists of Hades'''
|'''''2d10'''''
|-
|'''Steal Spell'''
|'''''2d10'''''
|-
|'''Vigor of the Beast'''
|'''''3d10'''''
|-
|'''Aegis'''
|'''''2d10'''''
|-
|'''Cure Wound'''
|'''''2d8'''''
|-
|'''Hardened Skin'''
|'''''2d10'''''
|-
|'''Revealing Eye'''
|'''''2d8'''''
|}

|}

===Equipment===

Magical Equipment:
Jaunt Ring
Shield Talisman
Caster's Aid Wand
Heal Potion X 5
Power Elixir X 5
Fire Resistance Potion X 2
Faery Mushrooms X 5
Gryphon Eggs X 2
Ruby Dust X 5

Mundane Equipment (service issued):
Medium Pistol w/ ammo
Tactical Shotgun w/ammo (in trunk of car)
Basic first aid kit (in car)
Evidence Collection Kit (in car)
Binoculars (in car)
Flashlight
Glow Sticks (in car)
Handcuffs
Kevlar Vest

Mundane Equipment (personal):
Light Pistol
Flashlight
Laptop
Glow Stick

==Tristesse "Tess" LeCrux==
[[File:Tess.jpg|245px|thumb|left|]]
===Background===

Anne Frank once wrote in her diary that, "I can shake off everything as I write, my sorrows disappear, my courage is reborn." I do not write (at least not until now), but I read, and so it is the same with me when I hold a book and my mind is filled with the images the author's words draw in my mind. My sorrow and this life I lead is gone, and I live another one that the author whispers to me through the dark bold strikes of letters on crisp white paper. Their book takes my hands and leads me to the world the author has created. But like Anne Frank I know, no matter how much we wish it were not so, that mere words cannot keep the monsters at bay.

Hezekiah told me I needed to write down who I am, before I can truly know myself. I guess if it was good enough for Samuel Pepys, it is good enough for Tess LeCrux, though I promise not be as detailed as Mr. Pepys. I guess I should introduce myself and if I may steal from Mr. Melville...Call me Tess. If there is a white whale in my words it is my family...and that path is likewise riddled with pursuits and obsessions. And perhaps I will speak more of them later, but for now lets speak of my birth. I was born with my face hidden. They call it a caul, a black veil covered my newborn face when I entered this world and in some ways I have worn it ever since. Some say to be born with a caul is a sign of luck. However, unlike ice cream, luck only has two flavors and I'm not yet sure which one the caul brought to me. My parents named me Tristesse but I chose to go by the name Tess. In Greek, Tess means harvester or reaper and somehow it seemed appropriate given present circumstances.

For you see, I am a harvester of books and knowledge and a reaper of well...other things. If you were to come to my little studio apartment in the Arborville Estates Apartments on Telegraph Hill, which will never happen, as I do not invite visitors, you'd find it overflowing with books on all manner of subjects. Yes little Tess of the Arborville's (apologies to Mr. Hardy) shares her place only with the dead. The only furniture you will find, besides my large comfy bed, are bookshelves after bookshelves, crammed and creaking in protestation under the weight of many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore, but alas no raven, evermore...and more books.

How I wish I could cradle grieving Edgar Allan's hand in my own. I wish I could have been in the Villa Diodati with Lord Byron, the Shelleys, and Dr. Polidori and heard their ghost stories. I wish I could have given a sisterly embrace to dear Emily Bronte and told her how much she means to me. But while I can do none of these things, I can let their words touch my heart. I can see the shadows beyond their words and the truths they have hidden behind the guise of fiction. I am a pathfinder amongst the whispers of the dead.

I look in the mirror before me and the one in the pages that I write. I see a young woman of 23, my hair is already gray. We LeCrux women go gray early, my family says. My sister colors her hair, but I refuse to. The gray in my hair reflects the world I live in and I cannot hide the truth of it. My family...my family tree that grows on the blood of those who use the drugs my family traffics in. Salem is their home and my birthplace. I left that place for Boston, thinking I could grow out from under the shadows of that tree. But the roots grow deep.

My father once had an associate called Alciste the Corsican. He made trouble disappear for my father and for that reason my father looked away from his...peculiarities. The week after my fourteenth birthday, by force he took my innocence. The week after my eighteenth birthday, by force majeure I took his life. It was not a fair exchange. His bones are in a suitcase in my closet. I wonder if someday I will make use of them. I light a cigarette, my mother calls them my coffin nails which seems appropriate. Alciste's skull sits atop one of my bookcases. I blow smoke in what would have been his face and it also clouds the mirror obscuring my face. Sometimes life is good. Sometimes death is better.

===Stats===
----
{|

| width="10%" valign="top" |
{| class="wikitable"
|+
|-
|'''Bloodline'''
|'''''Half-Blooded'''''
|-
|'''Archetype'''
|'''''Necromancer'''''
|-
|'''Arcana'''
|'''''The High Priestess'''''
|-
|'''Scene Points'''
|'''''4'''''
|-
|'''Father'''
|'''''Gerard "Lord of Salem" LeCrux (Associate of the Boston Mafia and drug lord of Salem)'''''
|-
|'''Mother'''
|'''''Amelie LeCrux (not in the family business)'''''
|-
|'''Sister'''
|'''''Angelique "Angel" LeCrux (heir apparent to the family business)'''''
|-
|'''Status/Wealth'''
|'''''Middle Class, $2,500 monthly'''''
|-
|}
| width="10%" valign="top" |
{| class="wikitable"
|+Talents
|-
|'''Haunting Presence'''
|''''' '''''
|-
|'''Skilled Raiser'''
|''''' '''''
|-
|'''Silent Caster'''
|''''' '''''
|-
|}
| width="10%" valign="top" |
{| class="wikitable"
|+Languages
|-
|'''English'''
|'''''4'''''
|-
|'''French'''
|'''''4'''''
|-
|'''Latin'''
|'''''4'''''
|-
|}
| width="10%" valign="top" |
{| class="wikitable"
|+Attributes
|-
|'''STR'''
|'''''3'''''
|-
|'''HLT'''
|'''''4'''''
|-
|'''REF'''
|'''''3'''''
|-
|'''WLP'''
|'''''4'''''
|-
|'''CHR'''
|'''''4'''''
|-
|'''INT'''
|'''''3'''''
|-
|'''HP'''
|'''''53'''''
|-
|'''MP'''
|'''''25'''''
|-
|'''Heal Rate'''
|'''''8 HP/day'''''
|-
|'''Magic Rec.'''
|'''''4 MP/hour'''''
|-
|'''Initiative'''
|'''''1d8+3'''''
|-
|'''Movement'''
|'''''9'''''
|-
|'''Dmg. Mod.'''
|'''''+1d3'''''
|-
|}
| width="10%" valign="top" |
{| class="wikitable"
|+Skills
|-
|'''Alchemy'''
|'''''1d10'''''
|-
|'''Athletics'''
|'''''2d6'''''
|-
|'''Augury'''
|'''''2d6'''''
|-
|'''Blades'''
|'''''1d8'''''
|-
|'''Crafting'''
|'''''1d6'''''
|-
|'''Escape'''
|'''''1d6'''''
|-
|'''Fast Talk'''
|'''''1d6'''''
|-
|'''First Aid'''
|'''''1d6'''''
|-
|'''History'''
|'''''2d10'''''
|-
|'''Intimidation'''
|'''''2d10'''''
|-
|'''Law'''
|'''''1d6'''''
|-
|'''Magic Lore: Necromancy'''
|'''''3d10'''''
|-
|'''Occultism'''
|'''''1d10'''''
|-
|'''Persuade'''
|'''''1d8'''''
|-
|'''Poison'''
|'''''1d6'''''
|-
|'''Streetwise'''
|'''''1d6'''''
|-
|}
| width="10%" valign="top" |
{| class="wikitable"
|+Spells
|-
|'''Necromancy'''
|''''' '''''
|-
|'''Control the Dead'''
|'''''2d10'''''
|-
|'''Feign Death'''
|'''''1d10'''''
|-
|'''Raise the Dead'''
|'''''2d10'''''
|-
|'''Rotting Flesh'''
|'''''2d10'''''
|-
|'''Soul Blast'''
|'''''1d10'''''
|-
|'''Speak to the Dead'''
|'''''2d10'''''
|-
|'''Steal Spirits'''
|'''''1d10'''''
|-
|'''Summon Ghost'''
|'''''2d6'''''
|}

|}

===Equipment===

Hunting Knife (1d6+1) (Etched onto the blade is the name Letumferre.)
Service Weapon & Bulletproof Vest
Ring of Extra Energy (Attuned)
Potion - Armor (10 doses)
Potion - Charm (10 doses)
Potion - Heal (10 doses)
Potion - Power Elixir (10 doses)
Talisman - Shield
Wand - Ice (Attuned)
Ashen Remains from a Corpse (2 Packets)
Morning Dew (5 Vials)
Basic First Aid Kit
Handcuffs
Evidence Collection Kit
Flashlight
$19,665 cash in bank

==Russell Johansen==

===Background===

Growing up in Zealand, North Dakota, Russell dreamed of owning a farm, raising corn, and having a family. At 9 years old, Russell joined the Junior Future Farmers of America, and, urged on by his long-widowed mother, did his best to raise a young lamb for sale at the county fair. Despite Russell's loving attention and constant care, the lamb died of mysterious causes within a week. Distraught, young Russell was given a second chance with another slightly older lamb. This time, Russell stayed home from school for the better part of a week to ensure the lamb's comfort and safety. Alas, the lamb died on the third night that Russell spent in its pen. Broken-hearted, Russell called out into the night for help, hoping his mother hadn't gone to bed yet. Instead of his mother's voice calling back to him, Russell heard a different, darker, voice answer him. The voice offered Russell a gift, of sorts. In exchange for the power to "save" the lamb, Russell just needed to pursue his true talents in the classroom. Russell agreed, and felt a surge of power, and the lamb opened its bloodshot eyes. The lamb never drew another breath, but months later it walked under its own power to the horrified judge's table at the county fair, in more or less the same shape it had been on that fateful night.
Russell kept his end of the bargain. He begged his mother to enroll him in the Gifted and Talented program, promising to keep up with the extra work. Russell spent long hours studying, eschewing sports and social time to spend more time buried in books and papers. Russell remained head of the class throughout his schooling, though he did end up having to be homeschooled during most of high school. The other kids had taken to calling him creepy, making zombie jokes, and pushing him around until his mother elected to keep him home. Russell studied on, and it was during those long home schooling days that Russell discovered the occult, and started to make the connection as to what had happened to him that night, and why.
On the night of his high-school graduation, Russell received a strange invitation to journey to Boston and continue his education as a lawyer under the tutelage of conniving demons and mages alike. The letter offered room and board, full scholarship, and endless mysteries. He couldn't help but accept, and Russell was caught...

Now Russell is finishing his last semester at his devilish law school. All he needs to do to graduate with full honors is to complete his internship as a Junior Field Attorney advising the Boston OCD...

===Stats===
----
{|

| width="10%" valign="top" |
{| class="wikitable"
|+
|-
|'''Bloodline'''
|'''''Demon-Blooded'''''
|-
|'''Archetype'''
|'''''Necromancer'''''
|-
|'''Arcana'''
|'''''-'''''
|-
|'''Scene Points'''
|'''''3'''''
|-
|'''Mother'''
|''''' '''''
|-
|'''Status/Wealth'''
|'''''Lower Class, $1250 monthly'''''
|-
|}
| width="10%" valign="top" |
{| class="wikitable"
|+Talents
|-
|'''Astral Sight'''
|''''' '''''
|-
|'''Shady Contacts'''
|''''' '''''
|-
|'''Silent Caster'''
|''''' '''''
|-
|}
| width="10%" valign="top" |
{| class="wikitable"
|+Languages
|-
|'''English'''
|'''''4'''''
|-
|'''Spanish'''
|'''''3'''''
|-
|'''Latin'''
|'''''3'''''
|-
|'''Aramaic'''
|'''''2'''''
|-
|'''Enochian'''
|'''''2'''''
|-
|'''Quechua'''
|'''''2'''''
|-
|}
| width="10%" valign="top" |
{| class="wikitable"
|+Attributes
|-
|'''STR'''
|'''''2'''''
|-
|'''HLT'''
|'''''3'''''
|-
|'''REF'''
|'''''1'''''
|-
|'''WLP'''
|'''''5'''''
|-
|'''CHR'''
|'''''4'''''
|-
|'''INT'''
|'''''4'''''
|-
|'''HP'''
|'''''24'''''
|-
|'''MP'''
|'''''40'''''
|-
|'''Heal Rate'''
|'''''6 HP/day'''''
|-
|'''Magic Rec.'''
|'''''5 MP/hour'''''
|-
|'''Initiative'''
|'''''1d8+1'''''
|-
|'''Movement'''
|'''''4'''''
|-
|'''Dmg. Mod.'''
|'''''-'''''
|-
|}
| width="10%" valign="top" |
{| class="wikitable"
|+Skills
|-
|'''Improvised Weapons'''
|'''''3d8'''''
|-
|'''Law'''
|'''''3d10'''''
|-
|'''Fast Talk'''
|'''''2d6'''''
|-
|'''Observation'''
|'''''3d10'''''
|-
|'''Persuade'''
|'''''2d6'''''
|-
|'''Sleight of Hand'''
|'''''2d6'''''
|-
|'''Occultism'''
|'''''3d10'''''
|-
|'''History'''
|'''''3d8'''''
|-
|'''Drive (Car)'''
|'''''2d6'''''
|-
|'''Magic Lore: General'''
|'''''3d10'''''
|-
|'''Magic Lore: Necromancy'''
|'''''3d10'''''
|-
|}
| width="10%" valign="top" |
{| class="wikitable"
|+Spells
|-
|'''Necromancy'''
|''''' '''''
|-
|'''Raise the Dead'''
|'''''3d10'''''
|-
|'''Feign Death'''
|'''''2d6'''''
|-
|'''Steal Spirits'''
|'''''3d10'''''
|-
|'''Speak to the Dead'''
|'''''2d6'''''
|-
|'''Resurrection'''
|'''''3d10'''''
|-
|'''Control the Dead'''
|'''''3d10'''''
|-
|'''General'''
|''''' '''''
|-
|'''Arcane Bolt'''
|'''''3d8'''''
|-
|'''Zephyr Winds'''
|'''''3d8'''''
|}

|}

===Equipment===

File:Tess.jpg

2020-11-14T00:36:57Z

Darithe:

File:Tess (2).jpg

2020-11-14T00:25:34Z

Darithe:

Landsoftheblacksea:Main Page/players/danithe thorne

2020-11-14T00:06:23Z

Darithe: /* Equipment */

[[ Landsoftheblacksea:Main_Page#Player_Characters | '''Return to the Main Page''']]

A woman running from her past and perhaps seeking redemption.

[[File:zzDaritheC.jpg | thumb]]

== Basics ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Character Name !! Player Name !! Race !! Class !! Alignment !! AC !! Experience !! Hit Points
|-
| Darithe Thorne (Meav Delte) || Desconocida || Human || Thief 2 || Chaotic Good || 7 (With Dex Adj) || 1250|| 8
|-
|}
== Physical ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Age !! Height !! Weight !! Eye Colour !! Hair Colour
|-
| 19 || 5'6" || 110 lbs || Light Green || Red (Natural color Black)
|}
== Stats ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:left"
|-
| Strength || '''11''' || ''Wt. Allowance: 40#; Max Press: 115#; Open Doors: 6; Bend Bars: 2%''
|-
| Dexterity || '''17''' || ''+2 React. Adj; +2 Missile Att. Adj.; -3 Def. Adj.''
|-
| Constitution || '''12''' || ''Sys. Shock: 80%; Res. Surv: 85%''
|-
| Intelligence || '''14''' || ''#Lang: 4''
|-
| Wisdom || '''10''' ||
|-
| Charisma || '''16''' || ''Mx. Hench: 8; Loy. Base: +4; Reac. Adj.: +5''
|-
|}

+10% XP Bonus

== Saving Throws ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Paralyzation/Poison/Death Magic !! Rod, Staff or Wand !! Petrification or Plymorph !! Breath Weapon !! Spell
|-
|| 13 || 14 || 13 || 15 || 12
|}
== Weapon Proficiencies ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Dagger'''
|-
|'''Hand Crossbow'''
|-
|}
== Nonweapon Proficiencies ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Blacksmithing (11)'''
|-
|'''Cooking (14)'''
|-
|'''Reading/Writing (15)'''
|-
|'''Swimming (11)'''
|-
|'''Tumbling (17)'''
|-
|}

== Thieves Abilities ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
| '''Pick Pockets''' || 15% + 5% (DEX) + 5% (no armor) =25% ||
|-
| '''Open Locks''' || 30% + 10% (DEX) = 40% ||
|-
| '''Find/Remove Traps''' || 25% ||
|-
| '''Move Silently''' || 30% + 5% (DEX) + 10% (no armor) = 45% || Movement reduced to 1/3
|-
| '''Hide in Shadows''' || 35% + 5% (DEX) + 5% (no armor) = 45% ||
|-
| '''Detect Noise''' || 15% ||
|-
| '''Climb Walls''' || 60% + 10% (no armor) = 70% ||
|-
| '''Read Languages''' || 0% ||
|-
|}

== Encumbrance ==
{| class="wikitable"
|'''Unencumbered'''
|'''''0-40'''''
|-
|'''Light'''
|'''''41-58'''''
|-
|'''Moderate'''
|'''''59-76'''''
|-
|'''Heavy'''
|'''''77-96'''''
|-
|'''Severe'''
|'''''97-110'''''
|-
|}
== Equipment ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Clothing'''
|'''''5 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Backpack'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Small pouch'''
|'''''0.5 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Hand Crossbow'''
|'''''3 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Dagger (x2)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Quiver'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Quarrels (20)'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Dry Rations (3 days)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Waterskin'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Thieves Picks'''
|'''''1 lb'''''
|-
|'''Total'''
|'''''19.5 lbs'''''
|-
|}

== Languages ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Common'''
|-
|'''Vox Mercanti'''
|-
|'''Anidan'''
|-
|'''Athernian'''
|-
|'''Thieves' Cant (She will never openly use this, only note those who do.)'''
|-
|}

== Background ==
[[File:zzDaritheL.jpg]]

She stared at her reflection in the mirror for a long time. The red hair would take some getting used to. The shorn locks of her previously long tresses less so, as that frequently just got in the way of her skills. No sign of her Da's dark hair now, the only part she truly inherited from him. Just as the freckles across her pale features came from her mother. Her hands were near as red as the hair stained from the dye. Somehow that seemed apt. She scrubbed the dye from her hands in the washbasin. At least that stain could be washed away...

Darithe Thorne was her name now. Once she had been Meav Delte, the daughter of a blacksmith in the town of Belies-ar-Weil, located mid-way along the coast of Athervon between Avis Inia, the seat of the Kingdom, to the North, and Avis Armois, the oldest and most far-flung of the Kingdom’s major cities, to the South. Her father was as dumb as the anvil he pounded everyday, but he was kind and had a ready smile, and was gentle with his young daughters Meav and her sister Vari. He did his best to support his two daughters on what little income he could make from shoeing horses and hammering out crude nails to build the rickety buildings in this poor section of town.

Their mother passed from a fever when Vari was five. Meav was three years older and did the best she could for her Da and young sister. She took care of them and when money was short she did what she had to for a few more coins to add to their larder. She helped in the smithy as much as she could and took care of delivering special orders for her Da. She found with a pretty smile she would sometimes even get tips, not much, but everything helped. She was poor but she was bright. She quickly picked up some smithing skills from her father and taught herself to read and write, which was rare for the people from her part of town.

Belis-ar-Weil was neither particularly large nor particularly small; but it held a strategic location at the mouth of the Aumine river, which carried the riches of the Kingdom’s interior to the sea, where it was then sent to either Avis Inia or Avis Armois for final destinations. Due to this vast amount of traffic in lucrative goods, the town had more than its fair share of criminal element, intent on skimming some of the proceeds for themselves. While there were a number of gangs that operated around the town, all paid their respects to the notorious Five Points Brotherhood. The Brotherhood was a huge network of Thieves that had bases over nearly the entire Kingdom – at least, that was what was said. Based out of the Capitol, The Brotherhood controlled virtually all the illegal traffic flowing on the land route between Avis Inia and Tras Veniri, and had a heavy hand in distribution to points beyond inside of Athervon. No one of sane mind crossed The Brotherhood – their operatives and informants were everywhere, and they did not hesitate to deal with problems that threatened their profitable position.

Meav had never planned to join them. To the contrary, she had always steered clear of the young gangs of new recruits, and ignored their catcalls, offers, and sometimes threats as she made her deliveries in town – that she could deal with. What really made her pick up her pace was the way one of the older members – a street captain known as Dregs – looked at her. He didn’t seem to be looking at the pretty young woman with leering eyes and lustful sneers like the others. No, Dregs always seemed to be assessing whether she might be useful to him, whether she could be an asset to his operation. His cold gaze watched her every time she passed, but he never said a thing – just gave a slight touch to his cap in greeting after their eyes met, and then turned back to his business.

She choked back a laugh thinking about it now.

She managed to keep things on an even keel until her 17th year. That was the year her Da passed – walking home at night after the neighborhood innkeeper had rewarded him with a few pints for some emergency repairs to some of his stable equipment, he must’ve never seen the horseman, riding at a full gallop along the dark road. She ran out at the sounds and screams to see him lying in the mud, blood beginning to form a small pool around him. The rider never stopped, disappearing into the darkness.

After Da was in the ground, she assessed the situation, and realized something had to give. She didn't see herself or Vari swinging a hammer to make a living. She retched at the thought of some of the things women did for coin near the docks – she would die before that became her fate. Then the faces of the gang captains came to her – that cold gaze, assessing her. Perhaps she could be of use to them.

She had no idea how to initiate a conversation about this, but her mind was made up. She walked directly up to Dregs through the crowd of his young proteges, the blood that was pounding in her ears drowning out their infantile suggestions and insults.

“I need some work.” She blurted it out without even knowing it. She held her breath waiting for him to speak.

For a moment, he didn’t – just looked at her again with the same cold eyes.

Finally, he spoke. “B’out time. Let’s get ya to Fergasse, see what he has fer ya.” His voice was rough, thin, fitting his grizzled appearance perfectly. She realized it was the first time she had ever heard it.

Fergasse was the local Master of The Brotherhood, overseeing their operations in the town. If he had ever been a working thief, there was no way to tell now – he was a very fat man, who spent more time overseeing account books than picking pockets. But he was the ordained boss for The Brotherhood in town, and he did not need to worry about his girth – there were plenty of fit gang members who would take care of any of Fergasse’s problems.

Dregs brought her to a warehouse by the docks, one she had always been warned to stay away from by Ma & Da. She had to pass by room after room of intimidating looking men, and one even patted her down and felt her up making sure she didn’t have a weapon. Finally she was in Fergasse’s “office”, a large room filled with boxes, bags, sacks, barrels, crates, chests, and every manner of thing used to transport goods – as well as piles and piles of leather-bound books: ship’s journals, logs, account books, inventory scrolls. Fergasse supervised a small army of men moving things in and out while another army was copying and modifying books, writing so fast they were sweating. Fergasse’s eye flicked to her after Dreg was able to whisper something in his ear, and he spat something back she didn’t hear, before he turned back to conducting the mayhem in the room.

Dreg took her back to her place and told her how it would work. She would start just doing "special deliveries" and watching for the town guard who's eyes were easily distracted by a lithe darkhaired lass. It was easy work for the most part, and she was good at it – folks knew her Da was gone, and men circled her like buzzards if she gave them the chance, wanting to be there when her finances or her will finally broke.

But those tasks weren't enough to support her and Vari; soon, she was pestering Dreg for bigger opportunity. Happy with her performance, he graduated her to more advanced work for the guild.

She took to the tasks like a bird to the air. It excited her. It gave her freedom from the drudgery of the smithy. And the coins to be had (earned?) were greater than she had ever seen. Though just eighteen by then, she quickly became a rising star in the guild. Soon enough, Dregs re-introduced her to Fergasse at the Bosses’ request. Fergasse wanted to have a look at this new recruit who was making him so much money.

As Fergasse spoke about the impression she had made, and that if she played her cards right she could have a bright future in The Brotherhood, she noticed a young man lounging back on a pile of grain sacks, staring at her with dark, hooded eyes. She had seen that stare before, but she was not that person anymore. She ignored the look, her lip curling into a mild sneer to express her disinterest.

After the meeting was over, she asked Dregs about the man. “Eh? On the sacks? Ach, thas Dany – Fergasse’s boyo. What ye’want wit him? Oh ya? Fancy’s ya does he? Well, ya be careful lass – that boyo’s got more problems than the Emperor of Jhon, he does – and he’ll make’em your problems if ya let ‘im. Best steer clear of ‘im, stay focused on yer work. He’s trouble if you like ‘im – but he’s also trouble if ya don’t, if ya take my meaning. Don’t make Fergasse choose between yas.”

She learned from others that Dany was an addict – he smoked the seeds from the Jhonian mazak plant, which generated the dark circles around his eyes and the vacant stare.

She heeded Dregs advice and made every attempt to avoid Dany. But to her dismay, Dany had other ideas. Apparently infatuated by her, he began hanging out in her neighborhood, repeatedly offering to buy her dinner, drinks, or to join him in a harmless smoke. She rebuffed him – gently, carefully, always saying that she had something to get done for his father. More than once she had to signal Dregs to intercept them and provide an escape. She began to stay away from the house more – Vari had enough money and was getting old enough to take care of herself and most of the chores at home while Meav earned their keep.

She used the time to hone her skills every day and the exciting life on the edge became like a drug to her. What started as a tactic to avoid Dany soon became a need to spend more and more time finding ways to complete the jobs allotted to her in the most impressive way possible. Vari was left to fend for herself as Meav was gone more and more, but Meav told herself Vari would have to learn to manage the home at some point, which assuaged her guilt at not being home with her sister.

One night, exhausted from nearly two solid days of casing a new ship that had arrived, she came home and found Vari in her bed – with Dany lying next to her. From the look of it, they had apparently been celebrating for days – there were clothes and half-eaten meals everywhere. The bitter-sweet smell of mazak hit her nostrils, and she noticed several pipes were strewn about, full of the dark tarry residue the drug leaves.

Meav was incensed – Vari had ruined everything! Now what was she going to do?

She carefully stepped over Dany and shook Vari, whispering for her to get up. But the girl remained prone, motionless. She shook harder, finally pulling her hard and flipping her over – to recoil in horror as the wide, sightless eyes of her sister stared back at her from dark hooded sockets, the open lips tinged blue.

Meav stumbled back against the wall, her heart pounding. She couldn’t think. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

She started as Dany mumbled something and rolled over onto one arm, lifting himself up on his elbow. His heavy-lidded eyes revealed he was still in the throes of the drug. He reached out to Vari, touching the dead girls arm. A minute later, a giggle erupted from him.

“I told…told you. You got to…to work up to…to it. Can’t be doing what I do. Sil…silly…girl.”

He flopped down, finally noticing Meav. “Oh…hey. You’re here. That’s great – I really was interested in you more anyway.” His eyes fluttered closed again, and he resumed gently snoring.

That day Meav picked up her Da's hammer for the last time in doing so ended her time in the guild, and guildmaster's son's life.

She looked once more in the mirror. Meav was dead, and Darithe reborn from her ashes. A dark phoenix for sure. She gathered her meager belongs and wrapped herself in her father oversized cloak and started outside. She glanced once more back at the smithy and then was gone. She walked on leaving the past behind.

A new town then, one where she is unknown. A place to disappear. The further from The Brotherhood, the better. Getting on a ship was too dangerous – The Brotherhood controlled the river and sea trade, she would be seen and her suspicious departure noted, if not prevented altogether. No, she had to leave by land.

In the dark of night, she stole down the South Road, which followed the coast all the way to Avis Armois. Far from the Capitol, perhaps there she could shake pursuit long enough to come up with a more long-term plan. The Mire Queen now beckoned to her which seemed appropriate somehow having become mired herself. As she walked she whispered a soft prayer (to whom she did not know) for forgiveness. But in her heart she knew forgiveness was reserved for those who deserved it.

The best steel doesn't always shine the brightest. Her da had taught her that and she thought of him as she walked south towards Avis Armois, the greatcloak wrapped around her due to the cool of the morn. She could still faintly smell him on it and those smells were comforting, almost as if he still embraced her in the folds of that big cloak. She breathed them in and smiled thinking of him, the pungent smell of the corrosive oils he used to clean his tools were there, and the pleasant smokey aroma of the coals of his forge still clung to the threads, and the musky smell of sweat after a good hard day of honest... She stopped abruptly and bit her lower lip. She sighed, the past is written. She could not change it no matter how much she wished to. But the future is a blank page. And that she could write.

She spotted a small family going in the opposite direction approaching, a young man, his pretty wife and two small girls tugging at their parent's cloaks. She smiled and nodded to them as their paths crossed. Her mind calling back memories of her own youth and her sister Vari. She turned and caught back up to the family offering them most of her fruit. It wouldn't last long and she knew she couldn't eat it all before it went bad. She kept a stem of grapes for herself and waved to them as they continued their journey farther away from her. She returned to the path she had chosen and walked on alone.

Landsoftheblacksea:Main Page/players/danithe thorne

2020-11-14T00:04:30Z

Darithe: /* Equipment */

[[ Landsoftheblacksea:Main_Page#Player_Characters | '''Return to the Main Page''']]

A woman running from her past and perhaps seeking redemption.

[[File:zzDaritheC.jpg | thumb]]

== Basics ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Character Name !! Player Name !! Race !! Class !! Alignment !! AC !! Experience !! Hit Points
|-
| Darithe Thorne (Meav Delte) || Desconocida || Human || Thief 2 || Chaotic Good || 7 (With Dex Adj) || 1250|| 8
|-
|}
== Physical ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Age !! Height !! Weight !! Eye Colour !! Hair Colour
|-
| 19 || 5'6" || 110 lbs || Light Green || Red (Natural color Black)
|}
== Stats ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:left"
|-
| Strength || '''11''' || ''Wt. Allowance: 40#; Max Press: 115#; Open Doors: 6; Bend Bars: 2%''
|-
| Dexterity || '''17''' || ''+2 React. Adj; +2 Missile Att. Adj.; -3 Def. Adj.''
|-
| Constitution || '''12''' || ''Sys. Shock: 80%; Res. Surv: 85%''
|-
| Intelligence || '''14''' || ''#Lang: 4''
|-
| Wisdom || '''10''' ||
|-
| Charisma || '''16''' || ''Mx. Hench: 8; Loy. Base: +4; Reac. Adj.: +5''
|-
|}

+10% XP Bonus

== Saving Throws ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Paralyzation/Poison/Death Magic !! Rod, Staff or Wand !! Petrification or Plymorph !! Breath Weapon !! Spell
|-
|| 13 || 14 || 13 || 15 || 12
|}
== Weapon Proficiencies ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Dagger'''
|-
|'''Hand Crossbow'''
|-
|}
== Nonweapon Proficiencies ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Blacksmithing (11)'''
|-
|'''Cooking (14)'''
|-
|'''Reading/Writing (15)'''
|-
|'''Swimming (11)'''
|-
|'''Tumbling (17)'''
|-
|}

== Thieves Abilities ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
| '''Pick Pockets''' || 15% + 5% (DEX) + 5% (no armor) =25% ||
|-
| '''Open Locks''' || 30% + 10% (DEX) = 40% ||
|-
| '''Find/Remove Traps''' || 25% ||
|-
| '''Move Silently''' || 30% + 5% (DEX) + 10% (no armor) = 45% || Movement reduced to 1/3
|-
| '''Hide in Shadows''' || 35% + 5% (DEX) + 5% (no armor) = 45% ||
|-
| '''Detect Noise''' || 15% ||
|-
| '''Climb Walls''' || 60% + 10% (no armor) = 70% ||
|-
| '''Read Languages''' || 0% ||
|-
|}

== Encumbrance ==
{| class="wikitable"
|'''Unencumbered'''
|'''''0-40'''''
|-
|'''Light'''
|'''''41-58'''''
|-
|'''Moderate'''
|'''''59-76'''''
|-
|'''Heavy'''
|'''''77-96'''''
|-
|'''Severe'''
|'''''97-110'''''
|-
|}
== Equipment ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Clothing'''
|'''''5 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Backpack'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Small pouch'''
|'''''0.5 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Hand Crossbow'''
|'''''3 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Dagger (x2)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Quiver'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Quarrels (20)'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Dry Rations (5 days)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Waterskin'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Thieves Picks'''
|'''''1 lb'''''
|-
|'''Total'''
|'''''19.5 lbs'''''
|-
|}

== Languages ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Common'''
|-
|'''Vox Mercanti'''
|-
|'''Anidan'''
|-
|'''Athernian'''
|-
|'''Thieves' Cant (She will never openly use this, only note those who do.)'''
|-
|}

== Background ==
[[File:zzDaritheL.jpg]]

She stared at her reflection in the mirror for a long time. The red hair would take some getting used to. The shorn locks of her previously long tresses less so, as that frequently just got in the way of her skills. No sign of her Da's dark hair now, the only part she truly inherited from him. Just as the freckles across her pale features came from her mother. Her hands were near as red as the hair stained from the dye. Somehow that seemed apt. She scrubbed the dye from her hands in the washbasin. At least that stain could be washed away...

Darithe Thorne was her name now. Once she had been Meav Delte, the daughter of a blacksmith in the town of Belies-ar-Weil, located mid-way along the coast of Athervon between Avis Inia, the seat of the Kingdom, to the North, and Avis Armois, the oldest and most far-flung of the Kingdom’s major cities, to the South. Her father was as dumb as the anvil he pounded everyday, but he was kind and had a ready smile, and was gentle with his young daughters Meav and her sister Vari. He did his best to support his two daughters on what little income he could make from shoeing horses and hammering out crude nails to build the rickety buildings in this poor section of town.

Their mother passed from a fever when Vari was five. Meav was three years older and did the best she could for her Da and young sister. She took care of them and when money was short she did what she had to for a few more coins to add to their larder. She helped in the smithy as much as she could and took care of delivering special orders for her Da. She found with a pretty smile she would sometimes even get tips, not much, but everything helped. She was poor but she was bright. She quickly picked up some smithing skills from her father and taught herself to read and write, which was rare for the people from her part of town.

Belis-ar-Weil was neither particularly large nor particularly small; but it held a strategic location at the mouth of the Aumine river, which carried the riches of the Kingdom’s interior to the sea, where it was then sent to either Avis Inia or Avis Armois for final destinations. Due to this vast amount of traffic in lucrative goods, the town had more than its fair share of criminal element, intent on skimming some of the proceeds for themselves. While there were a number of gangs that operated around the town, all paid their respects to the notorious Five Points Brotherhood. The Brotherhood was a huge network of Thieves that had bases over nearly the entire Kingdom – at least, that was what was said. Based out of the Capitol, The Brotherhood controlled virtually all the illegal traffic flowing on the land route between Avis Inia and Tras Veniri, and had a heavy hand in distribution to points beyond inside of Athervon. No one of sane mind crossed The Brotherhood – their operatives and informants were everywhere, and they did not hesitate to deal with problems that threatened their profitable position.

Meav had never planned to join them. To the contrary, she had always steered clear of the young gangs of new recruits, and ignored their catcalls, offers, and sometimes threats as she made her deliveries in town – that she could deal with. What really made her pick up her pace was the way one of the older members – a street captain known as Dregs – looked at her. He didn’t seem to be looking at the pretty young woman with leering eyes and lustful sneers like the others. No, Dregs always seemed to be assessing whether she might be useful to him, whether she could be an asset to his operation. His cold gaze watched her every time she passed, but he never said a thing – just gave a slight touch to his cap in greeting after their eyes met, and then turned back to his business.

She choked back a laugh thinking about it now.

She managed to keep things on an even keel until her 17th year. That was the year her Da passed – walking home at night after the neighborhood innkeeper had rewarded him with a few pints for some emergency repairs to some of his stable equipment, he must’ve never seen the horseman, riding at a full gallop along the dark road. She ran out at the sounds and screams to see him lying in the mud, blood beginning to form a small pool around him. The rider never stopped, disappearing into the darkness.

After Da was in the ground, she assessed the situation, and realized something had to give. She didn't see herself or Vari swinging a hammer to make a living. She retched at the thought of some of the things women did for coin near the docks – she would die before that became her fate. Then the faces of the gang captains came to her – that cold gaze, assessing her. Perhaps she could be of use to them.

She had no idea how to initiate a conversation about this, but her mind was made up. She walked directly up to Dregs through the crowd of his young proteges, the blood that was pounding in her ears drowning out their infantile suggestions and insults.

“I need some work.” She blurted it out without even knowing it. She held her breath waiting for him to speak.

For a moment, he didn’t – just looked at her again with the same cold eyes.

Finally, he spoke. “B’out time. Let’s get ya to Fergasse, see what he has fer ya.” His voice was rough, thin, fitting his grizzled appearance perfectly. She realized it was the first time she had ever heard it.

Fergasse was the local Master of The Brotherhood, overseeing their operations in the town. If he had ever been a working thief, there was no way to tell now – he was a very fat man, who spent more time overseeing account books than picking pockets. But he was the ordained boss for The Brotherhood in town, and he did not need to worry about his girth – there were plenty of fit gang members who would take care of any of Fergasse’s problems.

Dregs brought her to a warehouse by the docks, one she had always been warned to stay away from by Ma & Da. She had to pass by room after room of intimidating looking men, and one even patted her down and felt her up making sure she didn’t have a weapon. Finally she was in Fergasse’s “office”, a large room filled with boxes, bags, sacks, barrels, crates, chests, and every manner of thing used to transport goods – as well as piles and piles of leather-bound books: ship’s journals, logs, account books, inventory scrolls. Fergasse supervised a small army of men moving things in and out while another army was copying and modifying books, writing so fast they were sweating. Fergasse’s eye flicked to her after Dreg was able to whisper something in his ear, and he spat something back she didn’t hear, before he turned back to conducting the mayhem in the room.

Dreg took her back to her place and told her how it would work. She would start just doing "special deliveries" and watching for the town guard who's eyes were easily distracted by a lithe darkhaired lass. It was easy work for the most part, and she was good at it – folks knew her Da was gone, and men circled her like buzzards if she gave them the chance, wanting to be there when her finances or her will finally broke.

But those tasks weren't enough to support her and Vari; soon, she was pestering Dreg for bigger opportunity. Happy with her performance, he graduated her to more advanced work for the guild.

She took to the tasks like a bird to the air. It excited her. It gave her freedom from the drudgery of the smithy. And the coins to be had (earned?) were greater than she had ever seen. Though just eighteen by then, she quickly became a rising star in the guild. Soon enough, Dregs re-introduced her to Fergasse at the Bosses’ request. Fergasse wanted to have a look at this new recruit who was making him so much money.

As Fergasse spoke about the impression she had made, and that if she played her cards right she could have a bright future in The Brotherhood, she noticed a young man lounging back on a pile of grain sacks, staring at her with dark, hooded eyes. She had seen that stare before, but she was not that person anymore. She ignored the look, her lip curling into a mild sneer to express her disinterest.

After the meeting was over, she asked Dregs about the man. “Eh? On the sacks? Ach, thas Dany – Fergasse’s boyo. What ye’want wit him? Oh ya? Fancy’s ya does he? Well, ya be careful lass – that boyo’s got more problems than the Emperor of Jhon, he does – and he’ll make’em your problems if ya let ‘im. Best steer clear of ‘im, stay focused on yer work. He’s trouble if you like ‘im – but he’s also trouble if ya don’t, if ya take my meaning. Don’t make Fergasse choose between yas.”

She learned from others that Dany was an addict – he smoked the seeds from the Jhonian mazak plant, which generated the dark circles around his eyes and the vacant stare.

She heeded Dregs advice and made every attempt to avoid Dany. But to her dismay, Dany had other ideas. Apparently infatuated by her, he began hanging out in her neighborhood, repeatedly offering to buy her dinner, drinks, or to join him in a harmless smoke. She rebuffed him – gently, carefully, always saying that she had something to get done for his father. More than once she had to signal Dregs to intercept them and provide an escape. She began to stay away from the house more – Vari had enough money and was getting old enough to take care of herself and most of the chores at home while Meav earned their keep.

She used the time to hone her skills every day and the exciting life on the edge became like a drug to her. What started as a tactic to avoid Dany soon became a need to spend more and more time finding ways to complete the jobs allotted to her in the most impressive way possible. Vari was left to fend for herself as Meav was gone more and more, but Meav told herself Vari would have to learn to manage the home at some point, which assuaged her guilt at not being home with her sister.

One night, exhausted from nearly two solid days of casing a new ship that had arrived, she came home and found Vari in her bed – with Dany lying next to her. From the look of it, they had apparently been celebrating for days – there were clothes and half-eaten meals everywhere. The bitter-sweet smell of mazak hit her nostrils, and she noticed several pipes were strewn about, full of the dark tarry residue the drug leaves.

Meav was incensed – Vari had ruined everything! Now what was she going to do?

She carefully stepped over Dany and shook Vari, whispering for her to get up. But the girl remained prone, motionless. She shook harder, finally pulling her hard and flipping her over – to recoil in horror as the wide, sightless eyes of her sister stared back at her from dark hooded sockets, the open lips tinged blue.

Meav stumbled back against the wall, her heart pounding. She couldn’t think. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

She started as Dany mumbled something and rolled over onto one arm, lifting himself up on his elbow. His heavy-lidded eyes revealed he was still in the throes of the drug. He reached out to Vari, touching the dead girls arm. A minute later, a giggle erupted from him.

“I told…told you. You got to…to work up to…to it. Can’t be doing what I do. Sil…silly…girl.”

He flopped down, finally noticing Meav. “Oh…hey. You’re here. That’s great – I really was interested in you more anyway.” His eyes fluttered closed again, and he resumed gently snoring.

That day Meav picked up her Da's hammer for the last time in doing so ended her time in the guild, and guildmaster's son's life.

She looked once more in the mirror. Meav was dead, and Darithe reborn from her ashes. A dark phoenix for sure. She gathered her meager belongs and wrapped herself in her father oversized cloak and started outside. She glanced once more back at the smithy and then was gone. She walked on leaving the past behind.

A new town then, one where she is unknown. A place to disappear. The further from The Brotherhood, the better. Getting on a ship was too dangerous – The Brotherhood controlled the river and sea trade, she would be seen and her suspicious departure noted, if not prevented altogether. No, she had to leave by land.

In the dark of night, she stole down the South Road, which followed the coast all the way to Avis Armois. Far from the Capitol, perhaps there she could shake pursuit long enough to come up with a more long-term plan. The Mire Queen now beckoned to her which seemed appropriate somehow having become mired herself. As she walked she whispered a soft prayer (to whom she did not know) for forgiveness. But in her heart she knew forgiveness was reserved for those who deserved it.

The best steel doesn't always shine the brightest. Her da had taught her that and she thought of him as she walked south towards Avis Armois, the greatcloak wrapped around her due to the cool of the morn. She could still faintly smell him on it and those smells were comforting, almost as if he still embraced her in the folds of that big cloak. She breathed them in and smiled thinking of him, the pungent smell of the corrosive oils he used to clean his tools were there, and the pleasant smokey aroma of the coals of his forge still clung to the threads, and the musky smell of sweat after a good hard day of honest... She stopped abruptly and bit her lower lip. She sighed, the past is written. She could not change it no matter how much she wished to. But the future is a blank page. And that she could write.

She spotted a small family going in the opposite direction approaching, a young man, his pretty wife and two small girls tugging at their parent's cloaks. She smiled and nodded to them as their paths crossed. Her mind calling back memories of her own youth and her sister Vari. She turned and caught back up to the family offering them most of her fruit. It wouldn't last long and she knew she couldn't eat it all before it went bad. She kept a stem of grapes for herself and waved to them as they continued their journey farther away from her. She returned to the path she had chosen and walked on alone.

Landsoftheblacksea:Main Page/players/danithe thorne

2020-10-11T15:21:56Z

Darithe: /* Equipment */

[[ Landsoftheblacksea:Main_Page#Player_Characters | '''Return to the Main Page''']]

A woman running from her past and perhaps seeking redemption.

[[File:zzDaritheC.jpg | thumb]]

== Basics ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Character Name !! Player Name !! Race !! Class !! Alignment !! AC !! Experience !! Hit Points
|-
| Darithe Thorne (Meav Delte) || Desconocida || Human || Thief 2 || Chaotic Good || 7 (With Dex Adj) || 1250|| 8
|-
|}
== Physical ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Age !! Height !! Weight !! Eye Colour !! Hair Colour
|-
| 19 || 5'6" || 110 lbs || Light Green || Red (Natural color Black)
|}
== Stats ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:left"
|-
| Strength || '''11''' || ''Wt. Allowance: 40#; Max Press: 115#; Open Doors: 6; Bend Bars: 2%''
|-
| Dexterity || '''17''' || ''+2 React. Adj; +2 Missile Att. Adj.; -3 Def. Adj.''
|-
| Constitution || '''12''' || ''Sys. Shock: 80%; Res. Surv: 85%''
|-
| Intelligence || '''14''' || ''#Lang: 4''
|-
| Wisdom || '''10''' ||
|-
| Charisma || '''16''' || ''Mx. Hench: 8; Loy. Base: +4; Reac. Adj.: +5''
|-
|}

+10% XP Bonus

== Saving Throws ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Paralyzation/Poison/Death Magic !! Rod, Staff or Wand !! Petrification or Plymorph !! Breath Weapon !! Spell
|-
|| 13 || 14 || 13 || 15 || 12
|}
== Weapon Proficiencies ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Dagger'''
|-
|'''Hand Crossbow'''
|-
|}
== Nonweapon Proficiencies ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Blacksmithing (11)'''
|-
|'''Cooking (14)'''
|-
|'''Reading/Writing (15)'''
|-
|'''Swimming (11)'''
|-
|'''Tumbling (17)'''
|-
|}

== Thieves Abilities ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
| '''Pick Pockets''' || 15% + 5% (DEX) + 5% (no armor) =25% ||
|-
| '''Open Locks''' || 30% + 10% (DEX) = 40% ||
|-
| '''Find/Remove Traps''' || 25% ||
|-
| '''Move Silently''' || 30% + 5% (DEX) + 10% (no armor) = 45% || Movement reduced to 1/3
|-
| '''Hide in Shadows''' || 35% + 5% (DEX) + 5% (no armor) = 45% ||
|-
| '''Detect Noise''' || 15% ||
|-
| '''Climb Walls''' || 60% + 10% (no armor) = 70% ||
|-
| '''Read Languages''' || 0% ||
|-
|}

== Encumbrance ==
{| class="wikitable"
|'''Unencumbered'''
|'''''0-40'''''
|-
|'''Light'''
|'''''41-58'''''
|-
|'''Moderate'''
|'''''59-76'''''
|-
|'''Heavy'''
|'''''77-96'''''
|-
|'''Severe'''
|'''''97-110'''''
|-
|}
== Equipment ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Clothing'''
|'''''5 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Backpack'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Small pouch'''
|'''''0.5 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Hand Crossbow'''
|'''''3 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Dagger (x2)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Quiver'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Quarrels (20)'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Dry Rations (5 days)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Waterskin'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Thieves Picks'''
|'''''1 lb'''''
|-
|'''Hair Dye, '''
|'''''-'''''
|-
|'''Jasmine Perfume'''
|'''''-'''''
|-
|'''Total'''
|'''''19.5 lbs'''''
|-
|}

== Languages ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Common'''
|-
|'''Vox Mercanti'''
|-
|'''Anidan'''
|-
|'''Athernian'''
|-
|'''Thieves' Cant (She will never openly use this, only note those who do.)'''
|-
|}

== Background ==
[[File:zzDaritheL.jpg]]

She stared at her reflection in the mirror for a long time. The red hair would take some getting used to. The shorn locks of her previously long tresses less so, as that frequently just got in the way of her skills. No sign of her Da's dark hair now, the only part she truly inherited from him. Just as the freckles across her pale features came from her mother. Her hands were near as red as the hair stained from the dye. Somehow that seemed apt. She scrubbed the dye from her hands in the washbasin. At least that stain could be washed away...

Darithe Thorne was her name now. Once she had been Meav Delte, the daughter of a blacksmith in the town of Belies-ar-Weil, located mid-way along the coast of Athervon between Avis Inia, the seat of the Kingdom, to the North, and Avis Armois, the oldest and most far-flung of the Kingdom’s major cities, to the South. Her father was as dumb as the anvil he pounded everyday, but he was kind and had a ready smile, and was gentle with his young daughters Meav and her sister Vari. He did his best to support his two daughters on what little income he could make from shoeing horses and hammering out crude nails to build the rickety buildings in this poor section of town.

Their mother passed from a fever when Vari was five. Meav was three years older and did the best she could for her Da and young sister. She took care of them and when money was short she did what she had to for a few more coins to add to their larder. She helped in the smithy as much as she could and took care of delivering special orders for her Da. She found with a pretty smile she would sometimes even get tips, not much, but everything helped. She was poor but she was bright. She quickly picked up some smithing skills from her father and taught herself to read and write, which was rare for the people from her part of town.

Belis-ar-Weil was neither particularly large nor particularly small; but it held a strategic location at the mouth of the Aumine river, which carried the riches of the Kingdom’s interior to the sea, where it was then sent to either Avis Inia or Avis Armois for final destinations. Due to this vast amount of traffic in lucrative goods, the town had more than its fair share of criminal element, intent on skimming some of the proceeds for themselves. While there were a number of gangs that operated around the town, all paid their respects to the notorious Five Points Brotherhood. The Brotherhood was a huge network of Thieves that had bases over nearly the entire Kingdom – at least, that was what was said. Based out of the Capitol, The Brotherhood controlled virtually all the illegal traffic flowing on the land route between Avis Inia and Tras Veniri, and had a heavy hand in distribution to points beyond inside of Athervon. No one of sane mind crossed The Brotherhood – their operatives and informants were everywhere, and they did not hesitate to deal with problems that threatened their profitable position.

Meav had never planned to join them. To the contrary, she had always steered clear of the young gangs of new recruits, and ignored their catcalls, offers, and sometimes threats as she made her deliveries in town – that she could deal with. What really made her pick up her pace was the way one of the older members – a street captain known as Dregs – looked at her. He didn’t seem to be looking at the pretty young woman with leering eyes and lustful sneers like the others. No, Dregs always seemed to be assessing whether she might be useful to him, whether she could be an asset to his operation. His cold gaze watched her every time she passed, but he never said a thing – just gave a slight touch to his cap in greeting after their eyes met, and then turned back to his business.

She choked back a laugh thinking about it now.

She managed to keep things on an even keel until her 17th year. That was the year her Da passed – walking home at night after the neighborhood innkeeper had rewarded him with a few pints for some emergency repairs to some of his stable equipment, he must’ve never seen the horseman, riding at a full gallop along the dark road. She ran out at the sounds and screams to see him lying in the mud, blood beginning to form a small pool around him. The rider never stopped, disappearing into the darkness.

After Da was in the ground, she assessed the situation, and realized something had to give. She didn't see herself or Vari swinging a hammer to make a living. She retched at the thought of some of the things women did for coin near the docks – she would die before that became her fate. Then the faces of the gang captains came to her – that cold gaze, assessing her. Perhaps she could be of use to them.

She had no idea how to initiate a conversation about this, but her mind was made up. She walked directly up to Dregs through the crowd of his young proteges, the blood that was pounding in her ears drowning out their infantile suggestions and insults.

“I need some work.” She blurted it out without even knowing it. She held her breath waiting for him to speak.

For a moment, he didn’t – just looked at her again with the same cold eyes.

Finally, he spoke. “B’out time. Let’s get ya to Fergasse, see what he has fer ya.” His voice was rough, thin, fitting his grizzled appearance perfectly. She realized it was the first time she had ever heard it.

Fergasse was the local Master of The Brotherhood, overseeing their operations in the town. If he had ever been a working thief, there was no way to tell now – he was a very fat man, who spent more time overseeing account books than picking pockets. But he was the ordained boss for The Brotherhood in town, and he did not need to worry about his girth – there were plenty of fit gang members who would take care of any of Fergasse’s problems.

Dregs brought her to a warehouse by the docks, one she had always been warned to stay away from by Ma & Da. She had to pass by room after room of intimidating looking men, and one even patted her down and felt her up making sure she didn’t have a weapon. Finally she was in Fergasse’s “office”, a large room filled with boxes, bags, sacks, barrels, crates, chests, and every manner of thing used to transport goods – as well as piles and piles of leather-bound books: ship’s journals, logs, account books, inventory scrolls. Fergasse supervised a small army of men moving things in and out while another army was copying and modifying books, writing so fast they were sweating. Fergasse’s eye flicked to her after Dreg was able to whisper something in his ear, and he spat something back she didn’t hear, before he turned back to conducting the mayhem in the room.

Dreg took her back to her place and told her how it would work. She would start just doing "special deliveries" and watching for the town guard who's eyes were easily distracted by a lithe darkhaired lass. It was easy work for the most part, and she was good at it – folks knew her Da was gone, and men circled her like buzzards if she gave them the chance, wanting to be there when her finances or her will finally broke.

But those tasks weren't enough to support her and Vari; soon, she was pestering Dreg for bigger opportunity. Happy with her performance, he graduated her to more advanced work for the guild.

She took to the tasks like a bird to the air. It excited her. It gave her freedom from the drudgery of the smithy. And the coins to be had (earned?) were greater than she had ever seen. Though just eighteen by then, she quickly became a rising star in the guild. Soon enough, Dregs re-introduced her to Fergasse at the Bosses’ request. Fergasse wanted to have a look at this new recruit who was making him so much money.

As Fergasse spoke about the impression she had made, and that if she played her cards right she could have a bright future in The Brotherhood, she noticed a young man lounging back on a pile of grain sacks, staring at her with dark, hooded eyes. She had seen that stare before, but she was not that person anymore. She ignored the look, her lip curling into a mild sneer to express her disinterest.

After the meeting was over, she asked Dregs about the man. “Eh? On the sacks? Ach, thas Dany – Fergasse’s boyo. What ye’want wit him? Oh ya? Fancy’s ya does he? Well, ya be careful lass – that boyo’s got more problems than the Emperor of Jhon, he does – and he’ll make’em your problems if ya let ‘im. Best steer clear of ‘im, stay focused on yer work. He’s trouble if you like ‘im – but he’s also trouble if ya don’t, if ya take my meaning. Don’t make Fergasse choose between yas.”

She learned from others that Dany was an addict – he smoked the seeds from the Jhonian mazak plant, which generated the dark circles around his eyes and the vacant stare.

She heeded Dregs advice and made every attempt to avoid Dany. But to her dismay, Dany had other ideas. Apparently infatuated by her, he began hanging out in her neighborhood, repeatedly offering to buy her dinner, drinks, or to join him in a harmless smoke. She rebuffed him – gently, carefully, always saying that she had something to get done for his father. More than once she had to signal Dregs to intercept them and provide an escape. She began to stay away from the house more – Vari had enough money and was getting old enough to take care of herself and most of the chores at home while Meav earned their keep.

She used the time to hone her skills every day and the exciting life on the edge became like a drug to her. What started as a tactic to avoid Dany soon became a need to spend more and more time finding ways to complete the jobs allotted to her in the most impressive way possible. Vari was left to fend for herself as Meav was gone more and more, but Meav told herself Vari would have to learn to manage the home at some point, which assuaged her guilt at not being home with her sister.

One night, exhausted from nearly two solid days of casing a new ship that had arrived, she came home and found Vari in her bed – with Dany lying next to her. From the look of it, they had apparently been celebrating for days – there were clothes and half-eaten meals everywhere. The bitter-sweet smell of mazak hit her nostrils, and she noticed several pipes were strewn about, full of the dark tarry residue the drug leaves.

Meav was incensed – Vari had ruined everything! Now what was she going to do?

She carefully stepped over Dany and shook Vari, whispering for her to get up. But the girl remained prone, motionless. She shook harder, finally pulling her hard and flipping her over – to recoil in horror as the wide, sightless eyes of her sister stared back at her from dark hooded sockets, the open lips tinged blue.

Meav stumbled back against the wall, her heart pounding. She couldn’t think. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

She started as Dany mumbled something and rolled over onto one arm, lifting himself up on his elbow. His heavy-lidded eyes revealed he was still in the throes of the drug. He reached out to Vari, touching the dead girls arm. A minute later, a giggle erupted from him.

“I told…told you. You got to…to work up to…to it. Can’t be doing what I do. Sil…silly…girl.”

He flopped down, finally noticing Meav. “Oh…hey. You’re here. That’s great – I really was interested in you more anyway.” His eyes fluttered closed again, and he resumed gently snoring.

That day Meav picked up her Da's hammer for the last time in doing so ended her time in the guild, and guildmaster's son's life.

She looked once more in the mirror. Meav was dead, and Darithe reborn from her ashes. A dark phoenix for sure. She gathered her meager belongs and wrapped herself in her father oversized cloak and started outside. She glanced once more back at the smithy and then was gone. She walked on leaving the past behind.

A new town then, one where she is unknown. A place to disappear. The further from The Brotherhood, the better. Getting on a ship was too dangerous – The Brotherhood controlled the river and sea trade, she would be seen and her suspicious departure noted, if not prevented altogether. No, she had to leave by land.

In the dark of night, she stole down the South Road, which followed the coast all the way to Avis Armois. Far from the Capitol, perhaps there she could shake pursuit long enough to come up with a more long-term plan. The Mire Queen now beckoned to her which seemed appropriate somehow having become mired herself. As she walked she whispered a soft prayer (to whom she did not know) for forgiveness. But in her heart she knew forgiveness was reserved for those who deserved it.

The best steel doesn't always shine the brightest. Her da had taught her that and she thought of him as she walked south towards Avis Armois, the greatcloak wrapped around her due to the cool of the morn. She could still faintly smell him on it and those smells were comforting, almost as if he still embraced her in the folds of that big cloak. She breathed them in and smiled thinking of him, the pungent smell of the corrosive oils he used to clean his tools were there, and the pleasant smokey aroma of the coals of his forge still clung to the threads, and the musky smell of sweat after a good hard day of honest... She stopped abruptly and bit her lower lip. She sighed, the past is written. She could not change it no matter how much she wished to. But the future is a blank page. And that she could write.

She spotted a small family going in the opposite direction approaching, a young man, his pretty wife and two small girls tugging at their parent's cloaks. She smiled and nodded to them as their paths crossed. Her mind calling back memories of her own youth and her sister Vari. She turned and caught back up to the family offering them most of her fruit. It wouldn't last long and she knew she couldn't eat it all before it went bad. She kept a stem of grapes for herself and waved to them as they continued their journey farther away from her. She returned to the path she had chosen and walked on alone.

Landsoftheblacksea:Main Page/players/danithe thorne

2020-10-10T15:35:02Z

Darithe:

[[ Landsoftheblacksea:Main_Page#Player_Characters | '''Return to the Main Page''']]

A woman running from her past and perhaps seeking redemption.

[[File:zzDaritheC.jpg | thumb]]

== Basics ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Character Name !! Player Name !! Race !! Class !! Alignment !! AC !! Experience !! Hit Points
|-
| Darithe Thorne (Meav Delte) || Desconocida || Human || Thief 2 || Chaotic Good || 7 (With Dex Adj) || 1250|| 8
|-
|}
== Physical ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Age !! Height !! Weight !! Eye Colour !! Hair Colour
|-
| 19 || 5'6" || 110 lbs || Light Green || Red (Natural color Black)
|}
== Stats ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:left"
|-
| Strength || '''11''' || ''Wt. Allowance: 40#; Max Press: 115#; Open Doors: 6; Bend Bars: 2%''
|-
| Dexterity || '''17''' || ''+2 React. Adj; +2 Missile Att. Adj.; -3 Def. Adj.''
|-
| Constitution || '''12''' || ''Sys. Shock: 80%; Res. Surv: 85%''
|-
| Intelligence || '''14''' || ''#Lang: 4''
|-
| Wisdom || '''10''' ||
|-
| Charisma || '''16''' || ''Mx. Hench: 8; Loy. Base: +4; Reac. Adj.: +5''
|-
|}

+10% XP Bonus

== Saving Throws ==
{| class="wikitable" border="0" style="text-align:center"
! Paralyzation/Poison/Death Magic !! Rod, Staff or Wand !! Petrification or Plymorph !! Breath Weapon !! Spell
|-
|| 13 || 14 || 13 || 15 || 12
|}
== Weapon Proficiencies ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Dagger'''
|-
|'''Hand Crossbow'''
|-
|}
== Nonweapon Proficiencies ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Blacksmithing (11)'''
|-
|'''Cooking (14)'''
|-
|'''Reading/Writing (15)'''
|-
|'''Swimming (11)'''
|-
|'''Tumbling (17)'''
|-
|}

== Thieves Abilities ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
| '''Pick Pockets''' || 15% + 5% (DEX) + 5% (no armor) =25% ||
|-
| '''Open Locks''' || 30% + 10% (DEX) = 40% ||
|-
| '''Find/Remove Traps''' || 25% ||
|-
| '''Move Silently''' || 30% + 5% (DEX) + 10% (no armor) = 45% || Movement reduced to 1/3
|-
| '''Hide in Shadows''' || 35% + 5% (DEX) + 5% (no armor) = 45% ||
|-
| '''Detect Noise''' || 15% ||
|-
| '''Climb Walls''' || 60% + 10% (no armor) = 70% ||
|-
| '''Read Languages''' || 0% ||
|-
|}

== Encumbrance ==
{| class="wikitable"
|'''Unencumbered'''
|'''''0-40'''''
|-
|'''Light'''
|'''''41-58'''''
|-
|'''Moderate'''
|'''''59-76'''''
|-
|'''Heavy'''
|'''''77-96'''''
|-
|'''Severe'''
|'''''97-110'''''
|-
|}
== Equipment ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Clothing'''
|'''''5 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Backpack'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Small pouch'''
|'''''0.5 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Fruit'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Hand Crossbow'''
|'''''3 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Dagger (x2)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Quiver'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Quarrels (20)'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Dry Rations (5 days)'''
|'''''2 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Waterskin'''
|'''''1 lbs'''''
|-
|'''Thieves Picks'''
|'''''1 lb'''''
|-
|'''Hair Dye, '''
|'''''-'''''
|-
|'''Jasmine Perfume'''
|'''''-'''''
|-
|'''Total'''
|'''''19.5 lbs'''''
|-
|}

== Languages ==
{| class="wikitable"
|-
|'''Common'''
|-
|'''Vox Mercanti'''
|-
|'''Anidan'''
|-
|'''Athernian'''
|-
|'''Thieves' Cant (She will never openly use this, only note those who do.)'''
|-
|}

== Background ==
[[File:zzDaritheL.jpg]]

She stared at her reflection in the mirror for a long time. The red hair would take some getting used to. The shorn locks of her previously long tresses less so, as that frequently just got in the way of her skills. No sign of her Da's dark hair now, the only part she truly inherited from him. Just as the freckles across her pale features came from her mother. Her hands were near as red as the hair stained from the dye. Somehow that seemed apt. She scrubbed the dye from her hands in the washbasin. At least that stain could be washed away...

Darithe Thorne was her name now. Once she had been Meav Delte, the daughter of a blacksmith in the town of Belies-ar-Weil, located mid-way along the coast of Athervon between Avis Inia, the seat of the Kingdom, to the North, and Avis Armois, the oldest and most far-flung of the Kingdom’s major cities, to the South. Her father was as dumb as the anvil he pounded everyday, but he was kind and had a ready smile, and was gentle with his young daughters Meav and her sister Vari. He did his best to support his two daughters on what little income he could make from shoeing horses and hammering out crude nails to build the rickety buildings in this poor section of town.

Their mother passed from a fever when Vari was five. Meav was three years older and did the best she could for her Da and young sister. She took care of them and when money was short she did what she had to for a few more coins to add to their larder. She helped in the smithy as much as she could and took care of delivering special orders for her Da. She found with a pretty smile she would sometimes even get tips, not much, but everything helped. She was poor but she was bright. She quickly picked up some smithing skills from her father and taught herself to read and write, which was rare for the people from her part of town.

Belis-ar-Weil was neither particularly large nor particularly small; but it held a strategic location at the mouth of the Aumine river, which carried the riches of the Kingdom’s interior to the sea, where it was then sent to either Avis Inia or Avis Armois for final destinations. Due to this vast amount of traffic in lucrative goods, the town had more than its fair share of criminal element, intent on skimming some of the proceeds for themselves. While there were a number of gangs that operated around the town, all paid their respects to the notorious Five Points Brotherhood. The Brotherhood was a huge network of Thieves that had bases over nearly the entire Kingdom – at least, that was what was said. Based out of the Capitol, The Brotherhood controlled virtually all the illegal traffic flowing on the land route between Avis Inia and Tras Veniri, and had a heavy hand in distribution to points beyond inside of Athervon. No one of sane mind crossed The Brotherhood – their operatives and informants were everywhere, and they did not hesitate to deal with problems that threatened their profitable position.

Meav had never planned to join them. To the contrary, she had always steered clear of the young gangs of new recruits, and ignored their catcalls, offers, and sometimes threats as she made her deliveries in town – that she could deal with. What really made her pick up her pace was the way one of the older members – a street captain known as Dregs – looked at her. He didn’t seem to be looking at the pretty young woman with leering eyes and lustful sneers like the others. No, Dregs always seemed to be assessing whether she might be useful to him, whether she could be an asset to his operation. His cold gaze watched her every time she passed, but he never said a thing – just gave a slight touch to his cap in greeting after their eyes met, and then turned back to his business.

She choked back a laugh thinking about it now.

She managed to keep things on an even keel until her 17th year. That was the year her Da passed – walking home at night after the neighborhood innkeeper had rewarded him with a few pints for some emergency repairs to some of his stable equipment, he must’ve never seen the horseman, riding at a full gallop along the dark road. She ran out at the sounds and screams to see him lying in the mud, blood beginning to form a small pool around him. The rider never stopped, disappearing into the darkness.

After Da was in the ground, she assessed the situation, and realized something had to give. She didn't see herself or Vari swinging a hammer to make a living. She retched at the thought of some of the things women did for coin near the docks – she would die before that became her fate. Then the faces of the gang captains came to her – that cold gaze, assessing her. Perhaps she could be of use to them.

She had no idea how to initiate a conversation about this, but her mind was made up. She walked directly up to Dregs through the crowd of his young proteges, the blood that was pounding in her ears drowning out their infantile suggestions and insults.

“I need some work.” She blurted it out without even knowing it. She held her breath waiting for him to speak.

For a moment, he didn’t – just looked at her again with the same cold eyes.

Finally, he spoke. “B’out time. Let’s get ya to Fergasse, see what he has fer ya.” His voice was rough, thin, fitting his grizzled appearance perfectly. She realized it was the first time she had ever heard it.

Fergasse was the local Master of The Brotherhood, overseeing their operations in the town. If he had ever been a working thief, there was no way to tell now – he was a very fat man, who spent more time overseeing account books than picking pockets. But he was the ordained boss for The Brotherhood in town, and he did not need to worry about his girth – there were plenty of fit gang members who would take care of any of Fergasse’s problems.

Dregs brought her to a warehouse by the docks, one she had always been warned to stay away from by Ma & Da. She had to pass by room after room of intimidating looking men, and one even patted her down and felt her up making sure she didn’t have a weapon. Finally she was in Fergasse’s “office”, a large room filled with boxes, bags, sacks, barrels, crates, chests, and every manner of thing used to transport goods – as well as piles and piles of leather-bound books: ship’s journals, logs, account books, inventory scrolls. Fergasse supervised a small army of men moving things in and out while another army was copying and modifying books, writing so fast they were sweating. Fergasse’s eye flicked to her after Dreg was able to whisper something in his ear, and he spat something back she didn’t hear, before he turned back to conducting the mayhem in the room.

Dreg took her back to her place and told her how it would work. She would start just doing "special deliveries" and watching for the town guard who's eyes were easily distracted by a lithe darkhaired lass. It was easy work for the most part, and she was good at it – folks knew her Da was gone, and men circled her like buzzards if she gave them the chance, wanting to be there when her finances or her will finally broke.

But those tasks weren't enough to support her and Vari; soon, she was pestering Dreg for bigger opportunity. Happy with her performance, he graduated her to more advanced work for the guild.

She took to the tasks like a bird to the air. It excited her. It gave her freedom from the drudgery of the smithy. And the coins to be had (earned?) were greater than she had ever seen. Though just eighteen by then, she quickly became a rising star in the guild. Soon enough, Dregs re-introduced her to Fergasse at the Bosses’ request. Fergasse wanted to have a look at this new recruit who was making him so much money.

As Fergasse spoke about the impression she had made, and that if she played her cards right she could have a bright future in The Brotherhood, she noticed a young man lounging back on a pile of grain sacks, staring at her with dark, hooded eyes. She had seen that stare before, but she was not that person anymore. She ignored the look, her lip curling into a mild sneer to express her disinterest.

After the meeting was over, she asked Dregs about the man. “Eh? On the sacks? Ach, thas Dany – Fergasse’s boyo. What ye’want wit him? Oh ya? Fancy’s ya does he? Well, ya be careful lass – that boyo’s got more problems than the Emperor of Jhon, he does – and he’ll make’em your problems if ya let ‘im. Best steer clear of ‘im, stay focused on yer work. He’s trouble if you like ‘im – but he’s also trouble if ya don’t, if ya take my meaning. Don’t make Fergasse choose between yas.”

She learned from others that Dany was an addict – he smoked the seeds from the Jhonian mazak plant, which generated the dark circles around his eyes and the vacant stare.

She heeded Dregs advice and made every attempt to avoid Dany. But to her dismay, Dany had other ideas. Apparently infatuated by her, he began hanging out in her neighborhood, repeatedly offering to buy her dinner, drinks, or to join him in a harmless smoke. She rebuffed him – gently, carefully, always saying that she had something to get done for his father. More than once she had to signal Dregs to intercept them and provide an escape. She began to stay away from the house more – Vari had enough money and was getting old enough to take care of herself and most of the chores at home while Meav earned their keep.

She used the time to hone her skills every day and the exciting life on the edge became like a drug to her. What started as a tactic to avoid Dany soon became a need to spend more and more time finding ways to complete the jobs allotted to her in the most impressive way possible. Vari was left to fend for herself as Meav was gone more and more, but Meav told herself Vari would have to learn to manage the home at some point, which assuaged her guilt at not being home with her sister.

One night, exhausted from nearly two solid days of casing a new ship that had arrived, she came home and found Vari in her bed – with Dany lying next to her. From the look of it, they had apparently been celebrating for days – there were clothes and half-eaten meals everywhere. The bitter-sweet smell of mazak hit her nostrils, and she noticed several pipes were strewn about, full of the dark tarry residue the drug leaves.

Meav was incensed – Vari had ruined everything! Now what was she going to do?

She carefully stepped over Dany and shook Vari, whispering for her to get up. But the girl remained prone, motionless. She shook harder, finally pulling her hard and flipping her over – to recoil in horror as the wide, sightless eyes of her sister stared back at her from dark hooded sockets, the open lips tinged blue.

Meav stumbled back against the wall, her heart pounding. She couldn’t think. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

She started as Dany mumbled something and rolled over onto one arm, lifting himself up on his elbow. His heavy-lidded eyes revealed he was still in the throes of the drug. He reached out to Vari, touching the dead girls arm. A minute later, a giggle erupted from him.

“I told…told you. You got to…to work up to…to it. Can’t be doing what I do. Sil…silly…girl.”

He flopped down, finally noticing Meav. “Oh…hey. You’re here. That’s great – I really was interested in you more anyway.” His eyes fluttered closed again, and he resumed gently snoring.

That day Meav picked up her Da's hammer for the last time in doing so ended her time in the guild, and guildmaster's son's life.

She looked once more in the mirror. Meav was dead, and Darithe reborn from her ashes. A dark phoenix for sure. She gathered her meager belongs and wrapped herself in her father oversized cloak and started outside. She glanced once more back at the smithy and then was gone. She walked on leaving the past behind.

A new town then, one where she is unknown. A place to disappear. The further from The Brotherhood, the better. Getting on a ship was too dangerous – The Brotherhood controlled the river and sea trade, she would be seen and her suspicious departure noted, if not prevented altogether. No, she had to leave by land.

In the dark of night, she stole down the South Road, which followed the coast all the way to Avis Armois. Far from the Capitol, perhaps there she could shake pursuit long enough to come up with a more long-term plan. The Mire Queen now beckoned to her which seemed appropriate somehow having become mired herself. As she walked she whispered a soft prayer (to whom she did not know) for forgiveness. But in her heart she knew forgiveness was reserved for those who deserved it.

The best steel doesn't always shine the brightest. Her da had taught her that and she thought of him as she walked south towards Avis Armois, the greatcloak wrapped around her due to the cool of the morn. She could still faintly smell him on it and those smells were comforting, almost as if he still embraced her in the folds of that big cloak. She breathed them in and smiled thinking of him, the pungent smell of the corrosive oils he used to clean his tools were there, and the pleasant smokey aroma of the coals of his forge still clung to the threads, and the musky smell of sweat after a good hard day of honest... She stopped abruptly and bit her lower lip. She sighed, the past is written. She could not change it no matter how much she wished to. But the future is a blank page. And that she could write.

She spotted a small family going in the opposite direction approaching, a young man, his pretty wife and two small girls tugging at their parent's cloaks. She smiled and nodded to them as their paths crossed. Her mind calling back memories of her own youth and her sister Vari. She turned and caught back up to the family offering them most of her fruit. It wouldn't last long and she knew she couldn't eat it all before it went bad. She kept a stem of grapes for herself and waved to them as they continued their journey farther away from her. She returned to the path she had chosen and walked on alone.