[hider=Annalynne Winry James] [center] [color=Darkseagreen][b]Annalynne Winry James[/b][/color] [img]https://scontent-atl3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-xtp1/v/t1.0-9/11207323_10153059091812615_8245347283034204349_n.jpg?oh=c61a652403707a40f51b798bd0bcc728&oe=57434A0C[/img] [color=darkseagreen][b]Name[/b][/color] Annalynne Winry James (Though she’s gone by many in her lifetime) [color=darkseagreen][b]Age[/b][/color] 30 [color=darkseagreen][b]Appearance[/b][/color] Annalynne is quite small in stature, standing at about 5’. She has a bit more weight on her than she should, considering how active she is, but her curves suit her quite well. Not overly muscular, though her body is tone. Her dark auburn hair is usually tied up in braided bun, several pieces, refusing to be bound, frame her face, complementing an olive skin tone. When it is not up, her curly locks reach just below her shoulder. Her eyes are an unusual thing of note; one brown, and one green. [color=darkseagreen][b]Birthplace[/b][/color] Azra - Cirella [color=darkseagreen][b]Magic[/b][/color] Yes [color=darkseagreen][b]Armor[/b][/color] [hider] [img]https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/236x/46/5b/f2/465bf27b04d0fc951fc416ebf68ccb23.jpg[/img] [/hider] Her feminine figure is usually hidden beneath layers of leather and cloth. A brown leather duster conceals her form and a large cowl reaches over to hide most of her face. Dark brown leather boots extend up just past her knees, straps and buckles secure padding where would be needed. Plain cloth pants are held up by a thick black belt, lined with a few pouches and oddities. [color=darkseagreen][b]Stamina Rating[/b][/color] 8/8 [color=darkseagreen][b]Weapons[/b][/color] [color=saddlebrown]Main[/color] Twin daggers hang at her hip, they aren’t extravagant by any means, with the exception of a single purple gem embedded in each hilt. The gems are enchanted, one to deal extra damage to her enemy, and the other is coated in a deadly poison, one that would slowly eat away at the target. [color=saddlebrown]Secondary[/color] Throwing knives line her thigh, each tethered with a red cord. [color=darkseagreen][b]Personality[/b][/color] Annalynne is a private person. She likes to eat, but she’ll often eat alone. She likes to drink, but there will usually be only one glass on her table. She likes to read, and well, reading is usually a solitary activity anyway. She is not a woman of many words. To her, actions speak much louder, and hold much more weight in the grand scheme of things. Intentions speak upon a person’s mind, their actions however, will tell you precisely what sort of person they are. Her profession, for many years, was to study people, by their actions, their habits, their desires and how they went about obtaining them. So it’s no small wonder why she usually just observes. While she may not say much, she is quite outspoken if there is something she feels strongly about. She mostly keeps to herself, but that is not to say that she is a loner. She understands the value of group effort, just as long as they stay out of her way. “Only the strong survive” was something she grew up hearing constantly. There are always many obstacles when you are the smallest in the group. She had to become creative until eventually, her size became her strength. Determined, headstrong, deadly. [color=darkseagreen][b]History[/b][/color] Annalynne’s parents were among the wealthier merchants in Cirella. Their business started quite small, her mother was a seamstress and her father was skilled in using magic for small enchantments. Together they had built their empire on fine silks and extraordinary wares. In the height of their success, their business was put under when an unfortunate incident sent Camilla and Joseph James to their graves. An act that, after investigation, was found to be orchestrated by one of their competitors. Coin and blackmail had kept officials from serving any type of justice. However Annalynne and her brother Edmund would never forget the blood, the butchery, or the sight of their parents being strung up like cattle. Edmund was only 12 at the time, he rushed Annalynne into the cupboard without anyone realizing, explaining to her that he was going to run for help. Upon being unable to find the two children, their attackers decided they would tie up their loose ends by setting the cottage aflame. The fumes of death forced her from hiding and when she emerged, she saw them. Her parents had been strung up in the center of the room, the flames licking at their feet, daring to devour them whole. The frightened five year old ran, afraid of what her own fate would be if she lingered any longer. But before she made it out of the house, she had bumped into Edmund. Shock stricken and dumbfounded, he stood, frozen by fear and loss, his mouth gaping wide as he stared at his parents. There was something else in his eyes that Annalynne read that day. Perhaps it was guilt? Or perhaps it was the blame that she had placed on him that she was reading. Either way, it would never be something she would forgive him for. She had no idea where he ran to, or what he had actually done when he said he was going to get help. But there he was, and there was no help beside him. No help for days. They stayed with each other for the next day or so. She did owe him her life, not that a five year old truly understood that concept. They had barely spoken during that time, and Edmund grew distant. And then he just disappeared. No word, no letter, no goodbye or apology. He left his five year old sister to fend for herself. A daughter of a dead wealthy merchant, in a dangerous city, during deadly times. Not long after, she was picked up by a friend of the family, who had just so happened to have ties with a large underground guild who had agreed that her experiences could prove quite valuable to their cause. And so she was trained, honed into a deadly weapon. She used what knowledge her parents had bestowed upon her, anything she could take from her past, allowing it to forge her into something unique. Someone to be feared. She had vowed to be better; to be stronger, and more importantly, to live. Unfortunately, her life, at this moment, had come with a price. To live meant to serve, to serve meant to do the dirty work that others wouldn’t soil their hands with. Her skills brought her many jobs, some as a spy, others an assassin. She had tried to use her connections to track down her brother, but to no avail, he was never found. [color=darkseagreen][b]EXTRAS[/b][/color] [color=saddlebrown]Motivation[/color] Freedom. When the ICC contracted her for her services, she figured if she was able to find what they were looking for, she would be eligible to gain her freedom. Live out a quiet life in the middle of nowhere, away from everything she despised so much. Even if they wouldn’t grant it to her willingly, with the power they had described, she would at least do her best to take it. [color=saddlebrown]Relationships[/color] She has cordial business relations with several of the guilds of each city, but nothing intimate or truly favorable. [color=saddlebrown]Other[/color] What is a rogue without her tools? - a small strip of rope, lock picking tools, a pocket knife and a few other small oddities [/center] [/hider]