[Old]The Cult of Thieves - Sign Ups and OOC

[Gossamer]

[fieldbox=Arthur Carlyle, #ffffff]

Name: Arthur Carlyle

​

Age: 25

Height: 5'10"

Weight: 165

Race: Faledrin Human

Equipment:

Four steel daggers
Steel short sword
Throwing knives
Smoke bombs

Armor

How long they have been in the Cult of Thieves: 7 years


Specialization: Acquisition

A lifetime spent living off the streets has left Arthur with exceptional infiltration capabilities, as well as a variety of tactical abilities such as pick-pocketing, scouting, lock-picking, interrogation and free running.

Writing sample:

Quietly, Arthur sat outside upon a rooftop, sipping coffee, observing and watching as the sun made its way down. It was his pre-infiltration ritual, and one he quiet enjoyed. An orange blaze engulfed the sky and the city, and diminished with every minute, until finally everything was covered in darkness, with the exception of the well lit areas of the city itself. Arthur stood up, adjusted his weaponry, donned his cloak and hood and was off; scaling building after building and leaping between rooftops.

Click. The door was open. Arthur crept throughout the mansion in search of his clients diamond ring, or rather, someone else's diamond ring that was soon to be his clients. With grace, he slid past the door into the master bedroom, brandishing a dagger as he did so and pressing it into a nobleman's neck.

"The ring." He whispered into the mans ear, knowing full well he was fully aware of which ring the man was after. Gently, Arthur gripped the diamond ring in-between two fingers and slid it off of the nobleman's index finger. With that, he sheathed his weapon, sprinted towards the window and launched himself upon the rooftop, sliding downward off the roof, over the wall and into the night.​

​

Appearance History

• 
  
  It's not hard to mistake Arthur to be a few years younger than he really is, the young mans curly pitch black hair does well to conceal his face at times. Arthur's skin remains an eerily pale white, his eyes such a dark brown they seem as black as his hair on occasion. His athletic figure remains lithe and capable of trespassing even the tightest hallways, tunnels, corridors and what have you.
  
  
• 
  
  With a father gone missing and a mother dead at birth, Arthur was destined for an exceptionally problematic life, and spent the entirety of his youth in Faledrin's most poverty stricken orphanages. Living in poverty within the kingdom lead many youths to resort to petty theft and your occasional pickpocket spree, and it was this very world Arthur found himself trapped within.
  
  Even so, he managed to befriend many of his peers, and they worked together to snatch and scrape what they could for the sake of their own personal well-being. They felt little guilt in doing so considering what little effort the kingdom made to help. Arthur did not hesitate to take matters into his own hands.
  
  As he grew older, him and a particular band of misfits he had grown up with moved on from petty thievery and used their skills and connections within the world of poverty to track down a fence. From then on, the band of thieves went out of their way to acquire valuable goods to sell, living a dangerous yet luxurious life off of the wealthy. Or, as luxurious as several poverty stricken orphans could get.
  
  With time, they moved on from several small and relatively safe heists a day to one to two risky yet profitable heists a month. Catching the attention of the city guard after only their first large heist, the group had amassed a bounty, even losing a member in the process, who now remains in the castle dungeon. Still, their true identities remain hidden, yet their presence remains prevalent within their neighborhood and the surrounding areas.
  
  It did not take long for the cries of Faledrin's poorest citizens to catch the attention of the Cult of Thieves. At a young age, Arthur looked up to the Cult with reverence and admiration, and longed to join the cause, as he could not think of any other life he would prefer to live. As the years passed, Arthur underwent his own private and intense training regiment, practicing the art of free running as well as honing his skills as a thief and infiltrator.
  
  As his lust for theft grew over the years, the young man developed thrill seeking tendencies, leading the way towards risky behavior on and off the streets, all for the sake of a little excitable thrill. The young man will go out of his way to maximize his profit, but will never jeopardize the safety of his companions.
  
  Having been a product of a system that revolves around greed and poverty, Arthur never once doubted the honesty of his actions, and considered them to be just and appropriate, despite his run-ins with the law, as there were many. Even so, the art of bribery and persuasion has saved the young man on numerous occasion. Faledrin's greed knows no bounds.
  
  Upon his eighteenth birthday, Arthur and his peers decided to celebrate his coming of age by indulging in a heist to gather party supplies and food in his honor, for the sake of his starving "cousins" in poverty. Coincidentally, a nobleman intended to throw a banquet on the same day, and had his servants prepare the feast.
  
  However, just as the guests had begun to make their arrival, most of the food and drinks had vanished into the night. Word of the robbery spread among the neighborhood like wildfire, and that night Arthur and his closest peers celebrated, sharing their spoils with the orphanage. Such an act caught the attention of The Cult of Thieves, who tracked down Arthur, the leader of the heist. The rest is soon to be history.
  
  

[/fieldbox]

 

[Akashi]

I should have my CS up in a few days. Sorry for the wait.

 

[Effervescent]

I should have my CS up in a few days. Sorry for the wait.

No worries, submissions don't close until Friday! Take your time :)

 

[Rae]

Placing my interest, if you'll have me. I'm not completely sure that I can get something up by Friday, but I will certainly try (hell, I might get a dash of inspiration and complete it tonight...who knows?). Should I succeed and be approved, I will be glad to be on board. Since I'm not familiar with you, I'm assuming you're not familiar with me, so I will be putting up a writing sample, yes?

If I have any questions, I will likely PM you because I hate OOC clutter since my questions can sometimes lead to more questions. *sigh*

 

[Effervescent]

Since I'm not familiar with you, I'm assuming you're not familiar with me, so I will be putting up a writing sample, yes?

Yes! A writing sample using your character you submit in your CS would be fantastic!

 

[Effervescent]

[fieldbox=Arthur Carlyle, #ffffff]

Name: Arthur Carlyle

​

Age: 25

Height: 5'10"

Weight: 165

Race: Human

Weapon(s) of choice:

Four steel daggers
Steel short sword
Throwing knives

Armor

How long they have been in the Cult of Thieves: 7 years


Specialization: Acquisition

A lifetime spent living off the streets has left Arthur with exceptional infiltration capabilities, as well as a variety of tactical abilities such as pick-pocketing, scouting, lock-picking, interrogation and free running.

Writing sample:


Quietly, Arthur sat outside upon a rooftop, sipping coffee, observing and watching as the sun made its way down. It was his pre-infiltration ritual, and one he quiet enjoyed. An orange blaze engulfed the sky and the city, and diminished with every minute, until finally everything was covered in darkness, with the exception of the well lit areas of the city itself. Arthur stood up, adjusted his weaponry, donned his cloak and hood and was off; scaling building after building and leaping between rooftops.

Click. The door was open. Arthur crept throughout the mansion in search of his clients diamond ring, or rather, someone else's diamond ring that was soon to be his clients. With grace, he slid past the door into the master bedroom, brandishing a dagger as he did so and pressing it into a nobleman's neck.

"The ring." He whispered into the mans ear, knowing full well he was fully aware of which ring the man was after. Gently, Arthur gripped the diamond ring in-between two fingers and slid it off of the nobleman's index finger. With that, he sheathed his weapon, sprinted towards the window and launched himself upon the rooftop, sliding downward off the roof, over the wall and into the night.​

​

Appearance History

• 
  
  It's not hard to mistake Arthur to be a few years younger than he really is, the young mans curly pitch black hair does well to conceal his face at times. Sages' skin remains an eerily pale white, his eyes such a dark brown they seem as black as his hair on occasion. His athletic figure remains lithe and capable of trespassing even the tightest hallways, tunnels, corridors and what have you.
  
  
• 
  
  With a father gone missing and a mother dead at birth, Arthur was destined for an exceptionally problematic life, and spent the entirety of his youth in Faledrin's most poverty stricken orphanages. Living in poverty within the kingdom lead many youths to resort to petty theft and your occasional pickpocket spree, and it was this very world Arthur found himself trapped within.
  
  Even so, he managed to befriend many of his peers, and they worked together to snatch and scrape what they could for the sake of their own personal well-being. They felt little guilt in doing so considering what little effort the kingdom made to help. Arthur did not hesitate to take matters into his own hands.
  
  As he grew older, him and a particular band of misfits he had grown up with moved on from petty thievery and used their skills and connections within the world of poverty to track down a fence. From then on, the band of thieves went out of their way to acquire valuable goods to sell, living a dangerous yet luxurious life off of the wealthy. Or, as luxurious as several poverty stricken orphans could get.
  
  With time, they moved on from several small and relatively safe heists a day to one to two risky yet profitable heists a month. Catching the attention of the city guard after only their first large heist, the group had amassed a bounty, even losing a member in the process, who now remains in the castle dungeon. Still, their true identities remain hidden, yet their presence remains prevalent within their neighborhood and the surrounding areas.
  
  It did not take long for the cries of Faledrin's poorest citizens to catch the attention of the Cult of Thieves. At a young age, Arthur looked up to the Cult with reverence and admiration, and longed to join the cause, as he could not think of any other life he would prefer to live. As the years passed, Arthur underwent his own private and intense training regiment, practicing the art of free running as well as honing his skills as a thief and infiltrator.
  
  As his lust for theft grew over the years, the young man developed thrill seeking tendencies, leading the way towards risky behavior on and off the streets, all for the sake of a little excitable thrill. The young man will go out of his way to maximize his profit, but will never jeopardize the safety of his companions.
  
  Having been a product of a system that revolves around greed and poverty, Arthur never once doubted the honesty of his actions, and considered them to be just and appropriate, despite his run-ins with the law, as there were many. Even so, the art of bribery and persuasion has saved the young man on numerous occasion. Faledrin's greed knows no bounds.
  
  Upon his eighteenth birthday, Arthur and his peers decided to celebrate his coming of age by indulging in a heist to gather party supplies and food in his honor, for the sake of his starving "cousins" in poverty. Coincidentally, a nobleman intended to throw a banquet on the same day, and had his servants prepare the feast.
  
  However, just as the guests had begun to make their arrival, most of the food and drinks had vanished into the night. Word of the robbery spread among the neighborhood like wildfire, and that night Arthur and his closest peers celebrated, sharing their spoils with the orphanage. Such an act caught the attention of The Cult of Thieves, who tracked down Arthur, the leader of the heist. The rest is soon to be history.
  
  

[/fieldbox]

Approved! Welcome to the Cult of Thieves! I'll have a discord server or a group PM put together this weekend so that approved players can start planning minor history together. For now, acclimate yourself with the approved characters and feel free to peruse the clan for additional lore!

 

[yvi.]

Olympia has a very lean and curvy figure of alabaster skin. She stands at a graceful five foot seven with confident posture and walks with one foot in front of the other. She obtains the gentle face of a 'fair maiden' with her big round eyes, cute nose, and defined brows. She has a thinly elongated heart shaped face that ends in a soft point. There are small bags underneath her eyes that seem to naturally form, the puffiness furthering to make her eyes bigger and smile more despite her usual expression being blank. Olympia is also blessed with relatively clear and healthy skin because of her keen scrutiny towards personal hygiene adopted from her parents.

She sports peculiarly long and wavy eggplant-colored hair that cascades down her small back, ending neatly despite it's tendency to knot and tangle after being blown about in the wind. Since the assassin has a connection to her locks, she refuses to cut it short to avoid it getting in her way when performing. Because of this, Olympia has become a master of tight updos and braids, expertly tucking her hair into her clothing to abstain from any issues. Her bangs curl closely into her face over her brows and against her temples, cheeks, and chin. Her eyes are a rich royal blue, round and capable of cutting off all apparent emotions with little difficulty. Her cheeks are often rosy and her lips are a bright berry red, pouting and petite.

Olympia's voice can be described as a voice that makes itself known just by how soft it is, like a whisper of winds within a chattering crowd. Her twinkling tonal quality pairs fittingly with her choice to be a woman of very few words. She often goes to wearing simple and fitting clothes of a dark nature that blend with her inky hair and overshadows her facial features. She has a great affinity towards the color purple but disdains people to acknowledge her when she happens to adorn the beloved pigment anywhere else but her locks hidden underneath a hood. The maiden prefers to disappear into her surroundings, to not exist at all. She does not take a liking towards any clothing overly baggy and swallowing onto her figure, as she finds that it struggles to move with her swift motions efficiently. Wearing colors or anything outside of gear makes her considerably shy.

Olympia couldn't recall a single instance that she ever crawled into her bed hungry. She cannot remember her stomach twisting and eating what was not there. From a baby, the girl was praised for simply breathing because she was the only child. Her parents fawned over her and her imaginative mind that reached the stars while her teachers scowled at her unladylike behavior. Her beautiful, graceful mother would reason with them that she was only a child. Her strong, steadfast father would grin at how his tales of fiction would excite the young girl into rambunctious behavior.

Her days were filled with adventures of a young warrior and dreams of being wed in the garden where she rested with the flora. Her room was her playground where she modeled the things she loved within. Her mother adorned beautiful violet hair, so most of her toys were purple. Her father enjoyed alcohol, so she'd sneak bottles of it into her room. Sadly, she had to settle for books of fantastic journeys her father would frequently peruse since he wasn't pleased with his spirits residing in her room. At morning, her mother would comb her hair and sing her songs. At night, her father would tell her stories that no ordinary noble would have usually experienced first hand.

Olympia lived a sheltered life, one rich with love and rich with money. Because of this, she held no understanding of ones that took on the role of a peasant until she came home one faithful afternoon six years later.

She had just had a fantastic day at school, mind brighter and body itching to have a new adventure that her Father promised to bring her on. Lately, her parents have been increasingly stressed and able to only spend very little time with her. As a thirteen-year-old, her interests have changed from dreams to actions, and the absence of her mother and father was weakening her will to pursue said actions. Olympia raised a brow as the front door was clearly damaged.

She was greeted with a torn apart home, familiar decorations ripped in half or broken and shoved over. Currency littered the floor haphazardly, prized items and family heirlooms completely missing. Signs of struggle lay on every pore of her surroundings, sheaths of fabric fallen forgotten to the floor strewn with jewels and broken accessories. Olympia watched in complete shock as her home as she once knew was now replaced with a pilfered hell hole. She looked down and saw a tuft of violet hair, bone straight and glinting within the dim light scanning through the windows eerily. Next to it was droplets of blood in a series of patterns, looping. Some were smeared and some, perfect circles spotting the ground where the noble daughter stood. Olympia immediately recognized this hair as her mothers, one of her favorite features about her, and scooped up the tuft with trembling hands. Fear overtook her with unending waves, her blood cold and gut turning with bile. She tread forward nonetheless into her darkened, desolate domicile with nothing but terrible sights to see ahead.

Her parents lay captured and shivering against the looted lobby wall, a pile of butlers and maids also bounded across from them. The only few sounds were the bubbling gulps of tilted alcohol cases and insults with stained damp breath, chuckling and jingling because of their newly found riches. Their burlap sacks were pointed and plump with stolen goods and newborn opulence. Olympia could only stare as her Father was slumped over. Her Mother wept softly to him by his limp side. She seemed going through an uncomfortably disturbing case of hysteria, blanched to a ghastly white as her daughter could only make out the words 'Keep your eyes open'. Her father only responded with freshly shredded tears slipping down his bruised face that dropped down. He clutched his hand loosely, bleeding from the orifice. There were streaks of dark veins lining the puncture through his sticky palm, an arrow laying next to him adorning a black slime.

"Oi. Who goes there?" One terrible voice sounded near Olympia's still body.
Olympia immediately bristled and hunched over onto her burning ankles and stiff feet, vomiting onto the floor as the movements of all the men stilled. She continued to expel bile from her gut, sour muscles aching. A tall figure loomed near Olympia's convulsing body. He stank of tobacco and her father's sweet wine that she would smell on his lips when he kissed her forehead goodnight. A grim covered boot poked her face, forcibly lifting her white chin as he scanned her deadened blue hues. He hummed with approval. "A girl! Quite the looker, eh?" This man had the worst grammar and scratchy voice she's ever heard.

"Enough. Villalon failed to let it be known that they had a younger daughter." There were another voice and a waft of smoke that made Olympia's glassy eyes water. "Additional recompensation should be in order, then." The man is shoved away into another wall with a loud crash before a pale face came into view. He was smoking and seemed incredibly bored at first before meeting eyes with the noble daughter. There was a splatter of blood spread across his nose. He had kind, downturned dark eyes with a black pigment placed carefully to the brow bone of his eyebrow and long below the undereye. His hair was long and jet black, ending in sharp upturns. Despite being the obvious leader of this attack, he smiled down at her like she had bumped into him by accident on the street. Olympia could see no malicious intent within his eyes, which furthered the nauseous feeling that she was currently abstaining.

"Hello there, little one. I am Oboros."
His features were strong, body heavily geared. He kept a long, winding bow across his back, his quiver empty. Olympia could only stare at his friendly expression with shock and in fear. "You are talented to have not made a sound, you appeared out of thin air. I presume these are your parents, yes?" He gestured towards the shivering duo. "Oh dear. I am afraid to say that the wretched spouses have quite the promising daughter." He whispered under her breath. "Come." He held out a gloved hand. Olympia was paused. "If you come with me, little one, I will save your parents."

At the words, Olympia immediately sprouted to hold his hand. He was not evil or mean or held her too tight. He wasn't searching for anything remotely sexual as well. He spoke to her softly as he ordered his men to tend to the parents and staff as he swept little Olympia off. Oboros then revealed who Olympia's parents really were. Evil nobles with an inane greed for coin. Her mother was a whore who slept with many men and loved to reach deep into her husband's pockets whenever she could. Her Father was a swindler, a fake, and fraud, who turned up his nose to issues concerning the lower class for fear that he would lose this life he's painted for himself. Oboros felt pained seeing Olympia's face, watching her go into watery, angry denial. Her parents had many charges that were dropped against them due to their wealth and were planning to marry her off towards another wealthy family for more currency. He laid down the letter of proof and read it to her as Olympia collapsed to the floor with pained screams of betrayal. They promised her the wedding of her dreams with the man she loved when she was much older, but all along they knew that they were ready to ship her off to some old lecherous man for increased currency. Deep sorrow overtook the young adult. Everything had been a lie. Her childhood was built for money, and her childhood was going to end with money. They would do anything to step on the lives of others just for their own, including their own daughter's.

Oboros scanned at the looted surroundings. "I was commissioned by a certain organization to take down the Ostrogotho ruin that your mother and father were about to assist unfold on countless people. They did not tell me they had a daughter." His pause felt heavy. "Your parents will be apprehended for all of their crimes, meaning you will have no guardian to watch over you." He folded the envelope with creases heavily set into his troubled face, Olympia now a sobbing mess on the floor, heart shattered into pieces. "But, I do not plan to have you be an orphan. I will take you in."

Olympia only cried harder.

From then on, she was under the care and watch of a gentle, very patient Oboros. A setting of opulence, prosperity and hidden betrayal was traded for a life of quiet humble serenity. Life was completely different now that her parents now refused to contact her, the gesture opening old wounds they have imprinted on her. It took years and years to take place, but Oboros became the only one she could trust to the fullest. Oboros was a widow and lost a family just as Olympia has. The reason he had such a heart to take her under his wing was that Olympia reminded him of his dead daughter. Oboros was a talented assassin with a fist of justice that Olympia wanted to follow. Despite the danger of having the career of a hitman, Oboros always vowed to keep her safe, if she'd allow him to train her. And train she did, for nine long years.

The Ostrogotho orphan showed much skill and natural talent for self-defense, soon progressing towards techniques that Oboros hesitated first to teach. Oboros did not want Olympia to follow in the path of an assassin, one bloody and unpleasant, even if it was geared towards the corrupted and dangerous. However, the growing girl would beg and plead, dreaming again of a day that she would not be married, no, but to be a woman of the night that took names of the people who planned demise on innocent people. It was her calling, he realized, the way her blood moves with the winds to strike and incapacitate. She, on the steady rise of her new skill, was expected to surpass the level of himself. Finally, he gave her his blessing for a prosperous assassin career. They worked alongside each other, their teamwork flawless as they've trained together those many years.

Oboros, sadly, soon fell prey to a dangerous mission he refused Olympia to accompany him on. He never came home. Olympia was then sent a letter, and as she opened it up, a strand of familiar long black hair fell out. Olympia then knew, as her eyes welled with tears, that she was destined to carry on the legend that was her mentor and real Father, Oboros. She was not safe here or anywhere. Without Oboros, she felt like she was reverted back to that little thirteen-year-old girl, defenseless and weak.

Olympia gathered minimal things and ran from her comfortable life that she thought would never end. She ran far away, farther than she'd ever ventured before. She found herself weak and hungry. She took herself to the isolation of some catacombs where she would die in peace, holding the envelope of hair to her chest. Olympia laid down on the ground when she could not stand the throbbing behind her eyes and the twisting in her belly, falling asleep with tears staining her cheeks before the sound of quiet steps came her way.

Without the blessing of Oboros and his connection to the Cult of Thieves, they would have killed her where she lay sleeping. Now, she is a part of them and thrives on as Oboros's prized pupil and daughter.

.
.

Olympia is an assassin, so she uses a good range of weapons to handle her missions. She uses a bow and arrow for longer range, daggers for close combat and concealed kills and a short sword in case of any battle taking place.

She has been in the Cult of Thieves for a small handful of months. She's known as quite a silent type there and does not engage in much social interaction. She's still reeling from Oboros's untimely death and being in the place that he identified with never allows him to leave her thoughts. Despite that she doesn't have much of a connection to anyone there yet because she occupies herself heavily with work to do, making her social life within the guild nonexistent.

Olympia obviously takes up the assassin class within the Cult of Thieves, taking after Oboros. She doesn't plan to change specialization, feeling that she's most comfortable with it despite it not being a job most people like or would want to do. It's her best skill.

.

"You have done nothing but lied to me, lied to me, lied to me, Ana! You filthy fucking harlot!" He spat with fury. Ana, a once beautiful woman of immense beauty, was reduced to a trembling pathetic sobbing mess as she clutched satin sheets to herself, draped coldly over her nude form. She reached out to him, but with a rough hand, the male only brushed her off. "Harold, it is not what you assume! Harold, Harold please..." Whimpering, she stepped back as he turned with a wave of a huff. The tension was thick within the room. It almost convinced the adulterer that her husband would strangle her with the sheets she lay on. The man she was in a heated embrace with was long gone now. He was thrown through the broken window and was now laying on a pile of glass on the concrete outside. He hasn't twitched a muscle since. "It better not be so, dear one, because I just killed me a man!" Harold snarled. "Give me the most eloquent, correct answer to convince me not to propel you through the window to meet the same fate as your new fucking dead lover!"

A shadowy figure waited on the roof of the wing opposite of the scene taking place behind the thin, now broken window as the couple continuing to increasingly argue at the top of their lungs. Harold, as Olympia heard, was increasingly becoming more and more venomous. Just as expected. She reached a gloved hand to pull down her hood lower over her head, her heartbeat in her ears next to the acrimonious yelling not far off into the distance. The roof tiles were hard and cold and uncomfortable, a dull pain increasing in her lower back and buttocks as the seconds crawled on. She tried to focus on the vapor that would rise from her mouth as she breathed like she wasn't even there.

Harold and Ana Janson, high ranking official. Though, due to Harold being busy up to sucking the life out of the lower class, Ana has found herself new company for the last few weeks. There have been whispers of suspicions and tendrils of doubt in the marriage before. Harold has now caught Ana in the act of coupling with the butler overseer. It was fairly easy to get her 'caught up' since Harold had just come back from a canceled meeting. Olympia went to the host's home and sprinkled some special ingredient into a pie a chambermaid left to cool on the window sill. The pie gave the host food poisoning and the meeting was dropped, ultimately making Harold go straight back home to walk in on Ana. All fell accordingly into place after such. Harold threw into a fit of rage at all his suspicions being right and fought the butler overseer, they stumbled and the butler overseer went through the window. Ana was still in shock, and by the tone, fearful for her life.

"The woman I swore my life to was rolling away in bed with another man, Ana! Ana, listen to me!" He roared at her, cutting off her stupid blubbering. "You are not my wife, Ana. Get. Out." The last words were sharp, final, crystal clear. Olympia slowly peeked her head around the brick wall to see through the window. Harold's gaze down into the shorter woman was detrimental. She could feel the sting of pain and shock of being told to leave. After a short pause, the back of Ana's head shuddered and she exploded into tears. She ducked away from him and ran out the room, undoubtedly fleeing from the estate. Now was the time.

Harold glared at nothing as she ran past him, not moving as the door shut. Olympia already had her bow and arrow lined up in a crisp stance from where she crouched, body unforgivingly trained into such a stance from years of practice. She lined up the thin spade head with Harold's angry narrowed eye before releasing the bowstring with a swift movement. She watched as the arrow pierced his eye and through the head of his head with a gush of blood before he crumbled to the floor out of sight. Olympia, at the crack of a whip, slid down the shutters and jumped down towards the vines. She descended with a few agile movements before landing on the grass and fleeing into the night with a gentle sprint. Behind her a familiar woman's scream sounded of Harold's name, Ana audibly crying a sad song for the heavens.​

 

[yvi.]

so yeah i finished!!! i dont even know if it looks okay because my laptop charger broke and.... i had to suck it up and post it on mobile. hopefully its okay.!

 

[Elle Joyner]

so yeah i finished!!! i dont even know if it looks okay because my laptop charger broke and.... i had to suck it up and post it on mobile. hopefully its okay.!

I'm having trouble reading the specialization/home section, cause the font color is super dark on that black background <3 (and I'm old)

 

[Rae]

On further deliberation, I'm afraid I won't be able to commit. Alas, I'm trying to limit myself to manageable number of roleplays, but I keep failing. xD Have fun, guys! You have quite a good group here as it is.

 

[Effervescent]

I'm having trouble reading the specialization/home section, cause the font color is super dark on that black background <3 (and I'm old)

Yeah I had to read it all by clicking reply

On further deliberation, I'm afraid I won't be able to commit. Alas, I'm trying to limit myself to manageable number of roleplays, but I keep failing. xD Have fun, guys! You have quite a good group here as it is.

Aw I'm sorry to hear but it's good you're managing your roleplays! Thank you for letting me know!

 

[Dovahkiin]

If I manage to get luck on my side, I should be able to get a CS up tomorrow night. (: fingers crossed, ha.

 

[Akashi]

If I manage to get luck on my side, I should be able to get a CS up tomorrow night. (: fingers crossed, ha.

Me too <3

 

[Effervescent]

Awesome!

 

[Effervescent]

Everyone ready? I've also began a thread for pertinent Cult of Thieves lore that can be read here.

 

[RiddL]

Spoiler

Name: Kylar

Age: 21

Race: Human

Appearance: Kylar has the fit, lithe body of a dancer that is suitable to his work and stands at 5"11'. He has cold brown eyes that virtually radiate coldness when he looks directly at someone. He has a thin lipped, downturned mouth with small dimples, giving him the look of innocence that is at odds with his cold eyes. His long blond hair is kept tied behind his head and only let down when he is relaxing. He wears dark red pants, a black shirt with a mottled grey and black cloak, concealing his weaponry and a small bag full of various poisons (Generally prepared before any job).

History: Kylar grew up as the son of a herbalist who specialized in providing exotic herbs, flowers and poisons. As he grew older to run his fathers business he grew more familiar with all the properties and reactions that his father used.

When he turned 17 his father was sentenced to death after an unfortunate accident involving the death of a nobleman after he overdosed on a concoction that had been provided to him from Kylar' father. Forcing Kylar out on to the street with little else but his clothes and a few vials he was able to scavenge before his fathers shop was permanently closed down.

Kylar waited for weeks, trading some of his herbs for a leather tanners garb and some bottled leather oil, dressing himself up and rubbing the oil over his arms to assume the identity of an apprentice tanner to infiltrate the nobleman family mansion.

Kylar bluffed his way into the mansion and methodically began poisoning the family to avenge his father and left after poisoning the noblemans wife. He was sought by the thieves to join them and has been there since. Maintaining a front as a herbalist to launder any gold or jewellery from any thefts.

He is a stoic and stone faced man, seldom showing a smile and the closest he gets to happiness is grim satisfaction at a job well done. He is a brilliant actor but regards his work with a very cold nature.. He trained himself in the use of the Shuang Gho, which he keeps on him at all times and practices with constantly.

He is utterly loyal to a fault to the Cult and its members, both his biggest strength and weakness.

Weapon(s) of choice: Various poisons, 4 throwing knives, Stilletto Dagger, Shuang Gho (Rope spear)

How long they have been in the Cult of Thieves: 3 and half years.

Specialization in the Cult of Thieves: Assassination, his intimate knowledge of plants and herbs help him discreetly kill people in ways that seem either natural or accidental. He is a master of infiltration and disguising himself and has can identify and about targets relatively quickly, allowing him to sneak in, kill and sneak out again.

A writing sample: Kylar stalked his target, garbed like that of a eunuch as he walked through a garden covered in a soft blanket of snow, he walked with his head bowed and his arms hidden within the sleeves of his robe, concealing his small blade in the palm of his hand, careful not to scratch himself, else the essence of wolfsbane he had secreted on the blade enter his blood stream.

He made his way towards his target, a minor noble who had had men hunted for sport, and carefully readied the dagger, walking past the man and darting out with the blade, cutting his ribs and chest before running for the doorway he had chosen.

He heard shouts of confusion followed quickly by the scream of a woman as the deadly poison took quick effect. Kylar didn't pause and began sprinting to the kitchens. Slowing only to conserve his energy as he manoeuvred down the twisted, narrow passages.

Kylar moved like a wraith through the villa, narrowly avoiding search parties until he heard a shout of alarm followed by the deep thrum of a bow releasing its deadly package, a sharp whistling shooting past his ear as he ran through the kitchen doors, the archers deadly song continuing as he sent arrow after arrow towards Kylar.

Kylar slammed the kitchen doors shut and dived for the garbage chute, sliding down the filth of rotten meat and previous meals. He emerged from the chute into the slums where the food waste was dumped for the pigs and the poor to eat, children fighting each other for scraps of meat. He rose to his feet, pushing away those closest to him as he made his way to the closest entrance to the underground, shedding his outfit as he crawled into the Underbelly, his job done with and the streets a little safer for those who lived in them.

 

[Akashi]

@Effervescent - I sincerely apologize about my lack of commitment to the deadline you had for this friday. It seems that I have too much on my plate right now, and with the holidays right around the corner, I will only get that much busy. I was wondering if I could return at some point in the future and make a character for this roleplay, though only if you'll have me then, that is. Again, I do apologize about this, since I'll drop out for now.

 

[Effervescent]

@Effervescent - I sincerely apologize about my lack of commitment to the deadline you had for this friday. It seems that I have too much on my plate right now, and with the holidays right around the corner, I will only get that much busy. I was wondering if I could return at some point in the future and make a character for this roleplay, though only if you'll have me then, that is. Again, I do apologize about this, since I'll drop out for now.

I'm sorry to hear but it's good you are managing your priorities! At this time I don't plan on opening this roleplay up for new players, but if we lose too many players as time moves on I may. If that is the case I will be sure to tag you!

For the rest: I'll be able to read all the CSs tonight once I get home! There will be a discord server available for approved players to do some preplanning before the roleplay starts and to continue OOC interactions.

 

[Sail]

It's depressing, but I learned about this RP far too late. This was the perfect RP that I have been looking for. But I hope the RP goes well for you all :)

 

[Tyrannosaurus Rekt]

Oh-snap. I clicked on the advertisement today to learn that the CS's were closed.
Well, if you have any openings, I would love to join. ^_^

HAve a great RP!