Post by Morphine on Dec 16, 2012 14:38:20 GMT -5
Name: Drasil Yggson
Age: 35
Species: Human (Northerner)
Class: Rogue
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral
Occupation: Thief
Faction: The Thief Guild
Appearance:
Drasil, usually, also carries a large dark coat with a hood stitched on in order to help him blend into any crowd.
Drasil, within the Thief Guild, is infamous for using enchanted items in order to help him with the harder jobs, such as his gloves, enchanted to be sensitive to the clicks in a lock, or his boots, which are muffled to make less noise (except for that stupid creaky wooden plank apparently every home has), and a pair of glasses that allow him to see things far away (especially useful for scouting out a mark or enhanced accuracy with his bow and arrow.)
Drasil's weapons of choice are a bow and arrow, for distance, but isn't against the use of knives as well. As a last resort, he'll use his hands, as he knows certain individuals can track him from the hand marks on the dead/unconscious victims.
Personality:
Drasil is very protective of his identity as a thief, and not one to trust strangers. He prefers to be stealthy, although he doesn't mind being social as a way to make his living. In fact, he has a bit of a longing to be seen and stealing things in plain sight, although he has a sense of self-preservation, which prevents him from getting too close to his victims, though if it's an attractive woman, he wouldn't mind seducing her before robbing her blind, indicating he has a womanizing streak.
Drasil is very vindictive when it comes to being betrayed, able to come up with a variety of painful deaths for whoever wrongs him. He's also very loyal to the Guild and his allies, and he'll make sure everyone gets a fair share.
He's often situated to a desk, helping manage the various contacts and revenue of the Guild, but he's always planning a few jobs on the side, and will often take any excuse to get out of the Waterhole, be it to help with a heist, or to get something to eat.
He is good friends with the thief Garret, the two having preformed many heists together, and both having helped each other out of many a scrap.
History:
Drasil was born to parents he never knew. They abandoned him at a Northern orphanage, a place he escaped come the ripe age of eleven. Hours later, in the middle of the forest, Drasil had come to the realization that he had nowhere to go, no family to go to. He admitted that he had not thought this through properly before passing out in the middle of the forest, plopping right into the snow.
Fun times.
When he came to, he woke up in a hunting cabin, far into the woods. It belonged to the hunter that would become his father. From then on, he was taught to hunt, to fight, to use his environment to aid in his hunt, to remain unseen by his prey, and, most importantly, to know when a hunt was way over his head. This tutelage stopped a few months after Drasil's seventeenth day of birth, when his father was killed by a bandit gang. Drasil, afterwards, cremated his father's remains, took what he needed from the hunting cottage, and locked it up. He would not return for many years.
His destination was due south, to the mountain city of Bardgritoft, hoping to perhaps learn a trade that would perhaps be of use to him, like Smithing, or Fletching.
It did not turn out as he had planned.
He wasn't a very good smith. He could make decent tools, but anything beyond the most basic forge hammers were impossible for him. Fletching was more his speed anyway.
Nope.
The Fletcher kicked him out for making arrows that couldn't fit an arrow head.
So there he was. No job, no pliable trade other than hunting, but there was no game in the nearby forests. It was all either scared away or dead from the pollution the smoke stacks threw into the sky.
So he traversed the city, looking for any way to maintain a sustainable income, but to no avail. He was broke. So, perhaps it was fortunate that he spotted a rich noble with a fat coin purse attached to his belt.
One lifted coin purse and an angry noble later, he was running from the city guard. Of course, he eventually managed to give them the slip by hiding on a rooftop, beyond their point of view.
That rooftop happened to be the roof of the Local Waterhole, home of the Thief Guild. An older thief, noticing the robbery and the slip from the guards, decided to bring him into the guild as an initiate.
Turns out all Drasil needed was a push the right direction. Or the wrong direction, depending on the point of view.
Within the decade, Drasil managed to advance his skills enough, preform enough jobs and con enough marks to become a senior member of the guild. If any young thief needs help planning a heist, then they go to Drasil. If they need help with a heist, then he'll point them in the right direction.
Drasil has been a senior member of the Guild for a few years now, and, while having a desk job in the Waterhole helping to manage various resources at the Guild's disposal, he shall always have an excuse ready to go on a heist. Which is why he's not at his desk a majority of the time anyway.
He's quite happy where he is.
The same can't be said for the initiate doing his paperwork while he's out on a job, though.
Family Tree:
Heimdall Ygg (Father, Deceased)
Fears:
Prison
The Fall of the Guild
Goals:
To make sure the Guild is never compromised
For everyone to get their fair share
Likes:
Money
Women
The Thief Guild
Challenges
Free Drinks
His Shovel
Hates:
The Law
Poorly Planned Jobs
Loot hoarders
Stupid people (Seriously, give him a challenge!)
Bad Deals
Other:
-The Initiate who does his paperwork while he's out ninety-nine percent of the time, his name is Mitch.
-In his office, Drasil hangs up a square shovel. He only takes it off when he deals with a traitor or a rabbit who takes off with the loot.
Age: 35
Species: Human (Northerner)
Class: Rogue
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral
Occupation: Thief
Faction: The Thief Guild
Appearance:
Drasil, usually, also carries a large dark coat with a hood stitched on in order to help him blend into any crowd.
Drasil, within the Thief Guild, is infamous for using enchanted items in order to help him with the harder jobs, such as his gloves, enchanted to be sensitive to the clicks in a lock, or his boots, which are muffled to make less noise (except for that stupid creaky wooden plank apparently every home has), and a pair of glasses that allow him to see things far away (especially useful for scouting out a mark or enhanced accuracy with his bow and arrow.)
Drasil's weapons of choice are a bow and arrow, for distance, but isn't against the use of knives as well. As a last resort, he'll use his hands, as he knows certain individuals can track him from the hand marks on the dead/unconscious victims.
Personality:
Drasil is very protective of his identity as a thief, and not one to trust strangers. He prefers to be stealthy, although he doesn't mind being social as a way to make his living. In fact, he has a bit of a longing to be seen and stealing things in plain sight, although he has a sense of self-preservation, which prevents him from getting too close to his victims, though if it's an attractive woman, he wouldn't mind seducing her before robbing her blind, indicating he has a womanizing streak.
Drasil is very vindictive when it comes to being betrayed, able to come up with a variety of painful deaths for whoever wrongs him. He's also very loyal to the Guild and his allies, and he'll make sure everyone gets a fair share.
He's often situated to a desk, helping manage the various contacts and revenue of the Guild, but he's always planning a few jobs on the side, and will often take any excuse to get out of the Waterhole, be it to help with a heist, or to get something to eat.
He is good friends with the thief Garret, the two having preformed many heists together, and both having helped each other out of many a scrap.
History:
Drasil was born to parents he never knew. They abandoned him at a Northern orphanage, a place he escaped come the ripe age of eleven. Hours later, in the middle of the forest, Drasil had come to the realization that he had nowhere to go, no family to go to. He admitted that he had not thought this through properly before passing out in the middle of the forest, plopping right into the snow.
Fun times.
When he came to, he woke up in a hunting cabin, far into the woods. It belonged to the hunter that would become his father. From then on, he was taught to hunt, to fight, to use his environment to aid in his hunt, to remain unseen by his prey, and, most importantly, to know when a hunt was way over his head. This tutelage stopped a few months after Drasil's seventeenth day of birth, when his father was killed by a bandit gang. Drasil, afterwards, cremated his father's remains, took what he needed from the hunting cottage, and locked it up. He would not return for many years.
His destination was due south, to the mountain city of Bardgritoft, hoping to perhaps learn a trade that would perhaps be of use to him, like Smithing, or Fletching.
It did not turn out as he had planned.
He wasn't a very good smith. He could make decent tools, but anything beyond the most basic forge hammers were impossible for him. Fletching was more his speed anyway.
Nope.
The Fletcher kicked him out for making arrows that couldn't fit an arrow head.
So there he was. No job, no pliable trade other than hunting, but there was no game in the nearby forests. It was all either scared away or dead from the pollution the smoke stacks threw into the sky.
So he traversed the city, looking for any way to maintain a sustainable income, but to no avail. He was broke. So, perhaps it was fortunate that he spotted a rich noble with a fat coin purse attached to his belt.
One lifted coin purse and an angry noble later, he was running from the city guard. Of course, he eventually managed to give them the slip by hiding on a rooftop, beyond their point of view.
That rooftop happened to be the roof of the Local Waterhole, home of the Thief Guild. An older thief, noticing the robbery and the slip from the guards, decided to bring him into the guild as an initiate.
Turns out all Drasil needed was a push the right direction. Or the wrong direction, depending on the point of view.
Within the decade, Drasil managed to advance his skills enough, preform enough jobs and con enough marks to become a senior member of the guild. If any young thief needs help planning a heist, then they go to Drasil. If they need help with a heist, then he'll point them in the right direction.
Drasil has been a senior member of the Guild for a few years now, and, while having a desk job in the Waterhole helping to manage various resources at the Guild's disposal, he shall always have an excuse ready to go on a heist. Which is why he's not at his desk a majority of the time anyway.
He's quite happy where he is.
The same can't be said for the initiate doing his paperwork while he's out on a job, though.
Family Tree:
Heimdall Ygg (Father, Deceased)
Fears:
Prison
The Fall of the Guild
Goals:
To make sure the Guild is never compromised
For everyone to get their fair share
Likes:
Money
Women
The Thief Guild
Challenges
Free Drinks
His Shovel
Hates:
The Law
Poorly Planned Jobs
Loot hoarders
Stupid people (Seriously, give him a challenge!)
Bad Deals
Other:
-The Initiate who does his paperwork while he's out ninety-nine percent of the time, his name is Mitch.
-In his office, Drasil hangs up a square shovel. He only takes it off when he deals with a traitor or a rabbit who takes off with the loot.
