I was part of a rather prominent family of aerial humans. For the early
half of my life, I enjoyed quite a luxurious existence. Then the Gods,
deemed our kind to be stricken down with the sickness, susceptible to
disease now, we were wiped out. Almost down to a person, I am one of a
handful left out of a once prosperous gathering. I was still young when my
people began to die. Scared, I ran and I ended up in the city of Seringale.
With no coin, and a growing appetite, I began stealing for what I needed. A
loaf of bread here, an apple there. Never more than what I needed to
survive, and never off of anyone who wouldn't miss it. One day I was
lifting my evening meal, and I was made by a Justice. Being as I was still
just a kid, I was spared the normal penalty of death and was imprisoned
until I was old enough to stand for my crime. During my incarceration I
tried to keep to myself, and mostly succeeded for the first while. When I
was fourteen, I was in line waiting for my turn at the wash basin, when I
was accosted by two burly and scarred humans. I believe they wanted their
way with me, but a solemn looking storm giant came between us, and saved me.
That encounter changed my life, he changed me. It started with self
defense, I needed to be able to take care of myself as he wouldn't be able
to protect me forever. Hand to hand, defensive drills, parrying with
sticks, dodging, counter balance. Weapons weren't allowed in prison so my
training was limited. We managed though. During the hours of darkness he
taught me Righteousness, and goodness. How to give, and to feel. What was
right, and wrong, and mostly of an organization known as the Knights. He
spoke with such passion and from the heart. Nearing my seventeenth
birthday, I was awakened by growls and hisses as my friend was dragged from
his cell. I watched as he was dragged to the executioner and placed on the
breaking wheel, and listened as the gears were turned, and the popping of
his joints as he was torn apart. Change. It is unavoidable sometimes, like
our first encounter, sometimes change is forced upon us, and not by our own
doing. I vowed that day that I would never follow a law made up by this
false organization known as the Justice. Slight of hand, and good with a
pick, I broke out. I left with one purpose, I was to move to Valour, and
seek out the Knights.
Description:
Massive and sleek wings that when stretched fully measure at least nine hands each. That and again as long as he is tall. Ibaot has medium length brown curly locks, that bounce with the subtle rhythm of the beating wings. His eyes are a shade of dark blue, sharp and penetrating. A fitting nose and lips, curved smoothly and symmetrically grown give him a very handsome Presence. He has very well muscled arms and shoulders, protruding veins depict a low fat content. His chest is quite broad, that tapers off to a slim waist. His legs look withered from lack of use. Not obsolete, but not what they should be for the mass that they carry.
To be honest, I really just dont like rogues, im terrible with them, I didnt get a single kill at 50, or won a single duel, kind of disheartening, and knights really inhibits alot of nefarious tactics that make thieves thieves. Surprise attacks are out of the question unless its on an anathema or something equiv like a legion, except I never seen a single anathema, and only ran into one legion since gaelyns HGOD and that necro kicked my ass and I ran :S so, I believe this was my last rogue, I give up on this section of the game hahaha. Already enthralled in a new character
[reply to Nadrin]
[reply to tayyah]
[reply to asudan]