A half elf rogue, capable of some pretty evil stuff, but always remember the group comes first.


siblings who were raised by our errant rogue of a mother who wandered the world (possibly in the company of pirates and other ne’er-do-wells) living large and happily bedding anyone of remote interest like a Tolkein-trapped James Tiberius Kirk. We’re questionably moral, respectably clever, deeply and unconditionally devoted to one another…


“Lying is a skill like any other, and if you want to maintain a level of excellence you have to practice constantly.”

‘Let this tale be a lesson to you, perhaps the most valuable one I can ever teach you: sentiment is the greatest weakness of all. The dockside streets of Waterdeep have their own sense of justice to them, there’s no concrete feeling behind what they are, no emotion beyond a certain distaste for loose ends and disorder. The People are just interesting creatures to be studied and analyzed. And the places echo of a forgotten history many times reeling from blood and violence.’
‘I began this life failing to understand this properly, but I was a quick study. My sister and I were often times left alone with only a bag of gold as a babysitter and most of the times we found this wanting. Children without parents have no status in society. The situation is most unfortunate, but I don’t make the rules.’
‘I turned to thieving when I was old enough to find a mark, a padfoot cutpurse scraping a living off the unaware. Naturally this money went to things of a practical nature providing a meager subsistence for our small family and offsetting my mother’s absences. Still we had a roof that she owned in its entirety, and though I was never stupid enough to make it my base of operations. It was a place I could go to lay low and keep the rain and weather off my head in a pinch. It was a place to keep my sister when she was too young to partake in the grand adventures to be had dockside. And thus was a sanctuary of sorts, full of the conquests and reminders of a parent who wasn’t there, and the hold of a broken family whose sentiment I could not shake.’
‘I killed my first man at 12. I shot a poisoned arrow though an open window into his back, because killing a man from behind is generally the safest way to do it. It took him a while to die and I was forced to finish the job up close. He was an orc enforcer for a rival gang, with an unsavory appetite for orcish children who sing at markets for pocket money. Yes I did it for my sister, but in my defense she was a brilliant faceman and distraction during market days. In hindsight getting him to the water was problematic, lesson learned; always have a plan and never kill someone on the second story unless you plan on leaving them there. Two of my gang members had to help with the body and in the end I had to lay low for quite some time. The enforcer I killed was a high up in a more prominent gang and his disappearance did not go unnoticed, but he traveled a lot shaking down merchants for protection money and offering his services as a sell sword when able. Ultimately his disappearance was chalked up to a job gone bad. Our line of work is a dangerous one.’
‘By 16 both my sister and I had established ourselves as up and comers. The dockside politics and daily street routine had begun to waver in our opinion as a viable career avenues. I had begun freelancing, planning heists, and sis was playing at inns as frequently as she was helping on a job. Frequently she would entangle us in one infatuation she had with someone. A real thief has no ego, no conscience, no remorse, only a sense of professionalism. And yet for her, I don’t know how to describe it. There was a sense of possession. She had my back and I had hers, so far beyond the honor of thieves. I once killed a partner for skimming on me, an example had to be made. But sis was the only ‘family’ I had. You see what I mean about sentiment. So much of my life was about protecting her and providing for her, now that we were essentially on our own I had to get her out of Waterdeep.’
‘And so here I find myself with a crew who doesn’t understand to most basic lessons in life, and yet they are my crew. As if I could do this job on my own. And now I am in the thick of things exactly where I don’t want to be, doing a job nobody else can do. Trying to stay alive and keep my crew alive despite themselves. How did I end up here?’


Horde of the Dragon Queen damonlee RabidHobbit