[hider=Corvo Rathmore]
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[i]"Nothing Sacred, Everything Permitted."[/i]

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[u][sub][h3][color=silver]Name:[/color][/h3][/sub][/u]
	Corvo Rathmore (Woods formerly)

[u][sub][h3][color=silver]Age:[/color][/h3][/sub][/u]
	Twenty Nine

[u][sub][h3][color=SILVER]Titles:[/color][/h3][/sub][/u]
	[i]N/A[/i]

[u][sub][h3][color=SILVER]Origin:[/color][/h3][/sub][/u]
	Unknown; presumed from some slum or likewise of Windkeep.

[u][sub][h3][color=SILVER]Allegiance:[/color][/h3][/sub][/u]
	House Rathmore

[u][sub][h3][color=SILVER]Family:[/color][/h3][/sub][/u]
[indent][hider=Relations]
Adoptive Father - Ar Rathmore
Any biological relations - Unknown
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[u][sub][h3][color=SILVER]Personality:[/color][/h3][/sub][/u]
[indent]Trained and raised a loyal servant of the House of Rathmore, Corvo is a shadowy, mysterious man like his adoptive father before him, enigmatic and hard to read. His stoic and blunt nature lends himself the ability to have a very thick hide against any insults and a stiff upper lip to do whatever is needed in the name of the House. His rare fit of rage however, are said to be hell raising in ways that even demons stir.

"Nothing Sacred, Everything Permitted" are words he often goes and seemingly lives by as he sullies his hands so that the noble lords and ladies need not worry about the dirty, disdainful dealings with less then reputable persons, leaving the "Underlord" to such tasks.

Some say that Corvo is less human than he is a possessed spirit or machine in his work, tirelessly and faithfully carrying out the orders of his superiors with failure not an option. The "Lapdog of Rathmores" is as silent as he is efficient, preferring to stick to himself and keep faceless masks on while in public view. As he goes to parties, he might not be the one dancing but he will certainly be the one watching.[/indent]

[u][sub][h3][color=SILVER]Background:[/color][/h3][/sub][/u]
[indent]Corvo remembers little of his youth, the faintest and oldest of his childhood memories involve him going around asking people what a name scribbled onto a piece of parchment with some faded old emblem on it that he bore since youth, the name of "Corvo". Growing up on the streets, everyday was a game of survival amongst those in a similar state as he was, forced to make hard choices and play in shadows to scrap by another day. Such an environment eventually lead young Corvo down a path begging, then pickpocketing and finally thievery.

Before the boy was even 10 years old, Corvo had a knack of getting into places where he shouldn't have been. Back doors to stores, windows into home, gates into gardens and such. The boy's skill of getting in trouble was only matched by his skill of getting out of it, dashing and weaving his way up and down dark alley ways, tight corridors and even across balconies to escape angry homeowners and guards.

It would be when he had tried to go and break into some big wig's house that he would be caught, and have a change of fate. Gathering up his nerves and supplies, he tried to break into the house of one Alexander "Ar" Rathmore. Being caught upon entry, the spymaster was impressed with Corvo's ability to pick locks and sneak past guards and offered the boy an offer, an offer to stop playing a game of beggars and join a game of nobles.

From that day forth, Corvo was trained as a spymaster's agent, stalking targets, sewing misinformation, remembering names and occasionally, slitting throats or shooting heads. The former orphan had proven himself to be quite the outstanding subject, preforming very well in any of the trial tasks assigned by him. After some more lessons of how a nobleman should conduct himself, Corvo was rebranded a Rathmore and has served both his adopted father and his House dutifully with utmost if not silent loyalty with rumor speaking of him becoming the House's preferred person to contact when they needed some heads to roll in their prison crypts or else where.[/indent]
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