[h1][b][i][color=lightblue][center]Dhyannah D’Amorte[/center][/color][/i][/b][/h1]
[center][img]https://scontent-dft4-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t1.0-9/14731125_10154100288797615_9074432318552103105_n.jpg?oh=3f606c297fb7f74ecb3ca0a313e38332&oe=58A2A9DD[/img][/center]
Race: Human

Gender: Female

Age: 27

Class: Rogue/Swashbuckler 

Stats: 

Strength: 12
Dexterity: 17
Constitution: 10
Intelligence: 12
Wisdom: 12
Charisma: 14

Physical Description: As far as the eyes can deduct, Long layers of chocolate locks frame her face nicely and extend just below her bust. Traces of auburn highlights bring out the color in her eyes which stare into your soul, big pale green swirls that they are. They entice your gaze, daring you to look longer than you should. She stands confidently at 5’6”, with an athletic build sitting on wider hips and amazon thighs. Freckles sparsely spattered, carelessly over her olive complection. Sun kissed skin depicts a well traveled woman, with calloused hands and numerous scars. Odd tattoos cover her shoulders and back, covering most of the more brutal marks left to her. One scar in particular rests over her jawline, down the right side of your face, about 1 ½” in length. Another, one freshly faded, sits upon her chest, just over her heart.

Armor/Attire: Typical attire are of dark, earthy tones. Dhyannah isn’t a very flashy person, enjoying more simplistic and sensible garb. Comfortable trousers, tucked into worn boots fitted to her knees. Plain leather bracers to match a plain leather chest piece. Lastly, she wears a dull grey cloak. Stitched to the hood is the face of a wolf, a mask to cover her features when worn.

Equipment
2 cutlass hang on each side of her hip, nearly identical in appearance 
Carefully hidden within her bracers is a small blade. Placed well enough to be used in a pinch, should she need a sharp flying object or a defense against a creeper.
Dangling around her neck is a large tooth, likely from a dire wolf or bear
A flask, dull in appearance 
Several pouches, varying in size adorn her person. Some hidden within her cloak, others tied to her belt. They hold a vast array of items to include an adventurer's kit and some rations, flint and steel, a few vials of poisons, several types of herbs and a waterskin.

Mental Description/Personality: Dhyannah can be quite arrogant and brash. Bred into the huntress that she is, she has learned patience, but once her temper wears thin, blades often fly off the hook, alongside very colorful words. Dhyannah is blunt and to the point, she doesn't sugar coat things and she doesn't very much like to lie. Only the strong survive, but she does understand that strength comes in many different ways. A lesson she learned the hard way. 

Goals: Whether it was a change of pace or a fresh start that she was looking for when arriving into town, she wasn’t sure. Ultimately, she is looking for a home; somewhere to settle into, somewhere that doesn’t know of her past. 

Background/History:
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Dhyannah is the daughter of wealthy merchants Pavel and Annabella D’Amorte, from Bloomridge City in Baldurs Gate. Born into wealth, Dhyannah was raised to be prim and proper. Her older sister Kendall was a sight to behold. Lovely, thick wavy hair, golden as the sun, with deep blue eyes, and pale skin. Elegant and beautiful in every way, and more importantly, a product of both Pavel and his wife, Annabella. Dhyannah was constantly being criticized, and endlessly compared to her. “Why can’t you be more like your sister?!” Always to be reminded of where she came from and who she wasn't. More specifically, she wasn't Annabella’s daughter by birth and constantly served the well off family as a constant reminder of Pavel’s indiscretions. Dhyannah’s arrogance and strong personality only seemed to make things worse.

She was a thorn in everyone's backside, and no matter her efforts, the young girl just couldn't seem to fit in. As the years passed, their differences became more apparent. Subtleties weren’t as subtle anymore, especially as the arrogant young girl grew into womanhood. Fantasies of a peaceful life were easily traded in for spiteful deeds and scornful looks. Yet she was a child in a woman’s body, wanting nothing more than to be loved by those who called themselves family. Continuous attempts for a ‘happy’ home life got her nothing but disappointment, a void, that was slowly being filled with an eerie darkness. One that threatened to eat her whole. And so she sought the gods for help.

That's when the nightmares began. Within the horrid dreams, a message was relayed - her answer. Each attempt at putting it out of her mind only made things worse. And so the day finally came; the day she would bring Kendall to her death. Perhaps, deep down, a part of her had hoped that this would make her parents acknowledge their only living daughter, at least with something other than apathy and disgust. 

It was strangely easy for her… to kill her sister. The deed was done, and Dhyannah had felt nothing, no compunction, or remorse. Nor had there been any changes. Her parents mourned for their eldest for months, and while things never truly returned to normal, Dhyannah was never recognized for anything more than a dirty bastard, a burden, quickly discarded and easily forgotten. 

She was always a very vibrant woman, ready to bathe in her passion, with a wild and carefree streak. But there was something different in her as she struck the match that night. And as her childhood home was set aflame, she had neither care nor concern for the lives of those within. The fire was little more than a message, and if it just so happened to devour her parents along with her past, all the better. 

She never spoke of 'home' again, and after leaving it, she enlisted in the local mercenary guild. Life became a quick and harsh lesson. It wasn't all dresses and dance lessons, though, they did treat her with more care than she had ever received, so her complaints swiftly diminished. Dhyannah picked up on things quickly, and would take to anything anyone would teach her. Her days were full of sword lessons, sparring matches, games of subtlety and deception, even the occasional tavern stop between jobs and patrols. She was content.

It wasn’t long before she had bet Colin. Love was not very high on her list of priorities, and was often only seen as a liability, so her feelings were at first more of an inconvenience for her, which she tried her best to ignore. But as she settled into the group, interactions became more frequent, and eventually, more intentional. Colin held no special rank, no particular power or influence, but there was an undeniable connection between the two. A spark so electrifying, everyone else seemed to know about it, even before they could admit it to themselves. 

They became a power couple within the organization, quickly earning themselves favor and riches. The spark either served as a jump start for some or simply rubbed others the wrong way. That one other being Gavin, a lieutenant to their leader. Despite being married, he never hid his interest for her, it was just never reciprocated. Which of course angered him more. She picked up on a few other things too, including how Gavin looked at his wife, and every other woman who passed him by, the look of disgust and scorn his wife would give her upon passing. The tension was so thick, it began to infiltrate and corrupt their operations. One of them would have to challenge Gavin for matters to be settled. 

It was as if the gods had cursed them, or perhaps their spark had just run dry. The challenge was already set. But a job came in that would send them to a set of islands not far from the mountains edge, a job of which Colin was tasked to go, alone. Betrayal, blackmail, manipulation … one thing led to another. The only way she was leaving was with more blood on her hands.

Dhyannah would have to face Gavin in combat. Yes, she was afraid for her life, but she had hoped that her speed and dexterity would take her to victor. She was painfully and brutally mistaken. She was quick enough to avoid his sword splitting her face in two, but not quick enough where it missed her altogether. His blade managed to slice through her skin, sat just below her ear. He kept her alive, however her deeds did not go unpunished. If one caught a glimpse of her back, they would notice the many lashes and burn marks he left her. And Colin, well … he completed his mission, just to be stabbed through the back, one dark night as he traveled back to headquarters.

She was down there for three days, you could see the pride and pleasure that sparkled in his eyes as he took to maiming the young girl. 

By the end of the third evening, the beatings had ended. This night, she was met with kind hands instead of the cruel, bloody tongue of his whip. He took such care in releasing her from her bonds.  She thought this to be her death, her end at last. Her comrades watched in silence as he carried the near lifeless, and battered body to his room. It was then that she realized this was far from her freedom. He made her an offer, which only made her stomach turn. He would keep her alive, if and only if she would agree to be his, body and soul. With as much command and strength as she could muster, she declined. She would rather welcome death with open arms than be his. 

She fought, long and hard. Her eyes scanned the area frantically for anything she could use as a weapon. Her body flailed violently, her teeth snapped, she growled ferociously and howled for help as he pinned her down. No help came, and her valiant efforts were for not. After an exhausting and futile struggle, she laid quite still, the look of defeat embedded in her eyes as he entered her over and over. For the first time in her life, she had felt utterly useless. The love of her life had been murdered, and she was sold out to this monster. 

After all was said and done, he walked across the room, a carefree and cold step as he looked at her before leaving. “Tomorrow will be better, you’ll see.”, he said to her, leaving the broken girl clinging to the silk sheets as if for her life. 

It took a while for her to come to her senses, to regain even a tiny bit of herself. But the anger and rage that had built up with each thrust had finally surfaced. And when she did, she marched to her quarters with intention. She needed to ready herself. She always had certain materials on hand in case of emergencies. She slipped something into his flask, which he carelessly left behind. She knew tonight would be her only chance. Armed with a dagger also coated with the poison, she hid in the shadows and waited for his return. It wasn’t until almost morning when he finally re-entered the room. Tiredly, he undressed and slowly moved towards his bed. Gavin reached for his flask, and took a sip. Something was wrong. He paused a moment, moving the rim to his nose. A low growl emanated as he slowly looked around his quarters. She frowned, an all out attack will just have to do. She leaped from the shadows, her dagger in hand ready to kill.

Dawn finally came about them, and as his life slipped from his body, she gazed upon him, an eerie sense of satisfaction and contentment came over her. She was 20, no longer the girl padding on their doors for entrance, but a woman, covered in the blood of victory. And with that, she slipped into the shadows, the fog of the Moonshae Isles hiding her presence, and she was never seen from again.
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