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

Very true but even then I have a bad case or writers block. Plus I'm having a few... Well not problems but I can happily say I'm engaged now.

Congrats! :-)
 
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Very true but even then I have a bad case or writers block. Plus I'm having a few... Well not problems but I can happily say I'm engaged now.
Awesome, man! Congrats!
 
Very true but even then I have a bad case or writers block. Plus I'm having a few... Well not problems but I can happily say I'm engaged now.
I'm always happy to give a little push if you're struggling with creativity! Just let me know when you're not feeling it.
 
I'm always happy to give a little push if you're struggling with creativity! Just let me know when you're not feeling it.

Effie threatens to push players off cliff... Confirmed.
 
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M I E S ∙ M A R E K

[Meez Mah-rick]

Age
20


Race
Half-Elf (Sur)


Height | Weight

5'0"
105 lbs

Magic
Ice, though she is a novice.

Appearance
Were it not for the layers of dark leather and cloth clothes; tattered, torn and overused though likely stolen, one might never guess the particular woman of lithe, stringy build and lean muscle, be no more than a thieving street urchin. Long, waved champagne blonde hair hung in lanks to her elbows from the crown of her head, framing her sweet angular face and rounded cheeks to give her quite the look of youthful innocence that was echoed in her overly large, slightly protuberant black-brown eyes. Hiding beneath the layers of hair, always pulled forward over her shoulders to protect her, were her slightly pointed ears that gave her away as a half-elf.​
The overall effect gave the immediate impression that she was surprised to find herself where she was. Though somewhat androgynous, she did appear to possess at least some femininity, gentle curvature of her chest and hips were never hidden by the stolen items she wore and for someone who was used to petty crime she was awfully well kept; a point of pride of her’s. She wore small amounts of make up, often drawing to the features of her long face though never overly done. If she removed her gloves, one would notice that her nails were painted all different colors in a meticulous fashion.


Clare-Bowen-clare-bowen-35866324-682-1023.jpg


History
The product of a one-night stand between her Sur mother, Liir (Pron.: Lee-yer), and a Thall merchant, whose name she never knew. Raised in the city of Emalnahar among the Sur elves, Liir saw her daughter was gifted with ice and sought to tutor her, herself; though her education was secondary to their survival needs and so, Liir also bestowed her daughter with the knowledge of dye making.​

Where the first decade of her life was filled with close, fond memories of learning at her mother’s hand, the beginning of the second was marked by tragedy. A mistaken plant brought about Liir’s death by accidental poisoning; leaving Mies suddenly and hopelessly alone at the age of 11.

Through the first year of her solitude, she attempted to continue the trade learned from Liir. However, eventually Mies was forced to realize her half-knowledge meant a disappointingly small amount of actual skill and while she knew she could be cared for by the rest of the elves, she left Emalnahar, driven by pride in search of the father she had never met with only the stories she’d been told of his charm and splendor, a man of great wealth and skill in Rosenfall.

She set forth first to Syth, stowing away in a caravan cart and then continued onward towards Thall on foot managing the trek by following the river North until she found herself lost and hungry somewhere within Thallas when she was picked up by a Cult of Thieves member, a fact unknown to her, called Caleb whom offered to bring her to Rosenthall where she arrived in time for the Harvest Market to be in full bloom. There, she could ask merchants about the man her mother had once described. At last, a tip from a woman a few days later, gave her the name of man who she had said had eyes like her’s, she found herself face-to-face with a roguish, dark haired human by the name of Helmut Kleij (Pron.: Hel-moot Kly), of whom she was nearly a spitting image of, only to be rejected and driven away to Faledrin’s city of fools, Windfeld where she was unceremoniously dumped to either die, or survive a show of “mercy” to his half-elf bastard child.

In her eight years there, she was found by Caleb again and after explaining her what her father had done, learned by his instruction, quickly, that she would have no choice but to fall in with the criminals or else suffer at the hands of them. Throughout her life, she never knew he was a Cult member. He taught her everything she needed to know, stealing from pockets or carts to pay for meals or hawk items for coin, a skill that would eventually lead to the joining mysterious Cult some six months ago.

Weapon(s) of Choice
Daggers or throwing knives, sometimes coated in poison or the occasional use of magic, though she rarely displays such talent.

Membership
Six months.

Specialization in the Cult of Thieves
Acquisitions; though a knowledge of poisons and use of plants does help, she is more apt in the art of actual thievery.

 
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M I E S ∙ M A R E K
[Meez Mah-rick]


Age
20

Race
Half-Elf (Sur)

Magic

Ice, though she is a novice.

Appearance

Were it not for the layers of dark leather and cloth clothes; tattered, torn and overused though likely stolen, one might never guess the particular woman of lithe, stringy build and lean muscle, be no more than a thieving street urchin. Long, waved champagne blonde hair hung in lanks to her elbows from the crown of her head, framing her sweet angular face and rounded cheeks to give her quite the look of youthful innocence that was echoed in her overly large, slightly protuberant blue eyes. Hiding beneath the layers of hair, always pulled forward over her shoulders to protect her, were her slightly pointed ears that gave her away as a half-elf.

The overall effect gave the immediate impression that she was surprised to find herself where she was. Though somewhat androgynous, she did appear to possess at least some femininity, gentle curvature of her chest and hips were never hidden by the stolen items she wore and for someone who was used to petty crime she was awfully well kept; a point of pride of her’s. She wore small amounts of make up, often drawing to the features of her long face though never overly done. If she removed her gloves, one would notice that her nails were painted all different colors in a meticulous fashion.

Clare-Bowen-clare-bowen-35866324-682-1023.jpg




History


The product of a one-night stand between her Sur mother, Liir (Pron.: Lee-yer), and a Thall merchant, whose name she never knew. Raised in the city of Emalnahar among the Sur elves, Liir saw her daughter was gifted with ice and sought to tutor her, herself; though her education was secondary to their survival needs and so, Liir also bestowed her daughter with the knowledge of dye making.


Where the first decade of her life was filled with close, fond memories of learning at her mother’s hand, the beginning of the second was marked by tragedy. A mistaken plant brought about Liir’s death by accidental poisoning; leaving Mies suddenly and hopelessly alone at the age of 11.

Through the first year of her solitude, she attempted to continue the trade learned from Liir. However, eventually Mies was forced to realize her half-knowledge meant a disappointingly small amount of actual skill and while she knew she could be cared for by the rest of the elves, she left Emalnahar, driven by pride in search of the father she had never met with only the stories she’d been told of his charm and splendor, a man of great wealth and skill in Rosenfall.

She set forth first to Syth, stowing away in a caravan cart and then continued onward towards Thall on foot managing the trek by following the river North until she found herself lost and hungry somewhere within Thallas when she was picked up by a Cult of Thieves member, a fact unknown to her, called Caleb whom offered to bring her to Rosenthall where she arrived in time for the Harvest Market to be in full bloom. There, she could ask merchants about the man her mother had once described. At last, a tip from a woman a few days later, gave her the name of man who she had said had eyes like her’s, she found herself face-to-face with a roguish, dark haired human by the name of Helmut Kleij (Pron.: Hel-moot Kly), of whom she was nearly a spitting image of, only to be rejected and driven away to Faledrin’s city of fools, Windfeld where she was unceremoniously dumped to either die, or survive a show of “mercy” to his half-elf bastard child.

In her eight years there, she was found by Caleb again and after explaining her what her father had done, learned by his instruction, quickly, that she would have no choice but to fall in with the criminals or else suffer at the hands of them. Throughout her life, she never knew he was a Cult member. He taught her everything she needed to know, stealing from pockets or carts to pay for meals or hawk items for coin, a skill that would eventually lead to the joining mysterious Cult some six months ago.


Weapon(s) of Choice
Daggers or throwing knives, sometimes coated in poison or the occasional use of magic, though she rarely displays such talent.

Membership
Six months.

Specialization in the Cult of Thieves

Acquisitions; though a knowledge of poisons and use of plants does help, she is more apt in the art of actual thievery.



Approved! Writing example not required as we have been roleplaying together for years.
 
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