Faint 1.1a patch notes: Added some stuff in the likes/dislikes section. Changed the quote. Changed the questionnaire (might be more depressing than before since the questions she had avoided needed an answer, actually)

[hider=Faint]
[hr][hr][h1][b][i][color=876051][center]Faint[/center][/color][/i][/b][/h1]
[center][img] https://i.pinimg.com/474x/fb/13/4f/fb134f0c6702bfe26fb8f437840b15a0.jpg[/img][/center]
[hr][hr][h3][b][i][color=876051][center]ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪[/center][/color][/i][/b][/h3]
[b][color=876051]ℕ𝕒𝕞𝕖:[/color][/b] Beryl Shev (She has not used the name in a decade)
[b][color=876051]𝔸𝕝𝕚𝕒𝕤𝕖𝕤:[/color][/b] Faint
[b][color=876051]𝔸𝕘𝕖:[/color][/b] 22
[b][color=876051]𝕊𝕡𝕖𝕔𝕚𝕖𝕤:[/color][/b] Human
[b][color=876051]𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣:[/color][/b] Female
[b][color=876051]𝕆𝕔𝕔𝕦𝕡𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟:[/color][/b] Former professional thief (with training more in-line to that of an assassin)
[b][color=876051]𝔸𝕝𝕚𝕘𝕟𝕞𝕖𝕟𝕥:[/color][/b] Neutral Good

[hr][hr][h3][b][i][color=876051][center]𝔸𝕡𝕡𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕒𝕟𝕔𝕖[/center][/color][/i][/b][/h3]
[b][color=876051]ℍ𝕖𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥:[/color][/b] 5’7”
[b][color=876051]𝔹𝕦𝕚𝕝𝕕:[/color][/b] Lithe and athletic
[b][color=876051]𝔼𝕪𝕖𝕤:[/color][/b] Jade
[b][color=876051]ℍ𝕒𝕚𝕣:[/color][/b] Long, auburn. Usually tied in a ponytail for convenience.
[b][color=876051]𝕊𝕜𝕚𝕟 𝕋𝕠𝕟𝕖:[/color][/b] Very light, almost pale.
[b][color=876051]𝕋𝕒𝕥𝕥𝕠𝕠𝕤/𝕊𝕔𝕒𝕣𝕤/ℙ𝕚𝕖𝕣𝕔𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤:[/color][/b] Faint has a few scars, mostly old cuts, strewn haphazardly over her body. She usually hides them under her clothing, except for the few on her hands.
[b][color=876051]ℙ𝕖𝕣𝕤𝕠𝕟𝕒𝕝 𝕊𝕥𝕪𝕝𝕖:[/color][/b] Faint’s preferred clothing is utilitarian, though perhaps a touch masculine. She often wears a brown, pocketed leather vest over a loose burgundy tunic, form-fitting brown pants held in place by a sturdy black belt, and black boots reaching just under her knees. Occasionally a gray travelling cloak falling down to her knees completes her attire. It is rare to see her show skin aside of her face and hands.

[hr][center][/center][hr][h3][b][i][color=876051][center]ℙ𝕖𝕣𝕤𝕠𝕟𝕒𝕝𝕚𝕥𝕪:[/center][/color][/i][/b][/h3]
[i][color=876051][center]Sensible * Diligent * Supportive * Melancholic * Wry * Cautious[/center][/color][/i]

[b][color=876051]ℝ𝕖𝕝𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕡 𝕊𝕥𝕒𝕥𝕦𝕤:[/color][/b] Single
[b][color=876051]ℚ𝕦𝕖𝕤𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟𝕟𝕒𝕚𝕣𝕖:[/color][/b] 

[b][color=876051]What first impression do you make?[/color][/b]
I usually try to be polite. At least in more casual settings, people feel more at ease when you smile, a well-timed comment offering some levity or showing a bit of an interest is often enough to get someone talking about themselves. A ‘charming young lady’ is well-received most anywhere, even if there is a slight despondent air about her. Since the least said about my past, the better, some people must also think me somewhat mysterious. To my chagrin, that combination sometimes attracts a kind of interest I don’t care for.
 
[b][color=876051]What are you like in a high stress situation?[/color][/b]
We make do with what we have. I’m used to dealing with problems as they come along, and losing my calm has never helped with that. Bear with it. You can always find time for screaming and crying once the worst has passed.

[b][color=876051]What are your best and worst qualities?[/color][/b]
I think I’m a diligent person. I don’t know what would have been of myself if I hadn’t been able to apply myself fully to a task. As for a worst quality… I have spent a good amount of my life working for the sake of others because it felt natural to do so. I’m not the scared little girl I used to be. Or, at least, I’m scared of different things nowadays. I should have the strength to stand on my own two feet, but I fear I’ll wind up being taken advantage of simply because I felt it was easier than thinking for myself. 

[b][color=876051]What is something about yourself that you would never admit to anyone?[/color][/b]
I’m free to live my own life for what feels like the first time ever, but the thought terrifies me. It feels like there’s a bottomless abyss yawning right there in front of me and I’m just about ready to fall. The fact that I feel this way when I once fantasized about this kind of opportunity makes me so intensely ashamed of myself it hurts. 

[b][color=876051]What are your dreams?[/color][/b]
I have no dreams to speak of. Until recently I didn’t even think about it. Sometimes I wish I’d been born to a different family and led a banal, routine, exceedingly boring life, but it’s a guilty thought. It’s not just unrealistic, it’s disrespectful.

[b][color=876051]How do you want to be seen by others?[/color][/b]
I’d rather be seen as useful, and inoffensive. Valuable. That said, I don’t want to be taken advantage of, but, on my own, the only way I can ensure that happens is to show that pushing me is dangerous.

[b][color=876051]How do you see [i]yourself?[/i][/color][/b]
A victim of extenuating circumstances. It sounds like an excuse, because it is one. I rarely like what I see when I examine myself too closely.

[b][color=876051]Do you tend to make snap judgements, or stop and think about things?[/color][/b]
It depends. If it were up to me, I’d always like to think things through where possible, but life doesn’t always wait on you. A sharp instinct will serve you well in those times.

[b][color=876051]What haunts you?[/color][/b]
Gods, where to start? The past sometimes feels surreal to me, like it happened to someone else, until I remember something specific enough to remind me I was there. Like when my sick mother finally passed, and relief mixed in with the grief as I realized I wouldn’t have to see her deteriorate day by day anymore. Or the time news reached me that one of my marks had flung himself off a balcony after a crew I was in made off with his riches. I didn’t even draw a knife, but found myself responsible for the death of another. Or the fact that I never saw my brother again once I left our home, strained as our relationship was, to the point that only years later I learned that the young man living alone in that hovel in the slums had one day marched off god knows where. There are things I wish I could put to rest, and others I’m afraid to. What kind of person would I be if I did? 

[b][color=876051]What is your philosophy on life?[/color][/b]
I don’t have a philosophy per se. I spent a lot of my life trying to keep other people happy, so, as long as they were, and we were all still alive, it was enough for me. I want to think giving your all for someone else is a good thing, but sometimes I wonder if by the end it wasn’t something I did out of habit. Now that I’m on my own, it feels as though I’m coasting on nothing but momentum.


[b][color=876051]ℍ𝕒𝕓𝕚𝕥𝕤:[/color][/b]
[list][*]Putting her needs second to those of others
[/list]
[b][color=876051]ℍ𝕠𝕓𝕓𝕚𝕖𝕤:[/color][/b]
[list][*]Reading
[*]Woodcarving
[/list]
[b][color=876051]𝔽𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕤:[/color][/b]
[list][*]Disappointing others 
[/list]
[b][color=876051]𝕃𝕚𝕜𝕖𝕤:[/color][/b]
[list][*]Books
[*]Honest folk
[*]Cats (small, soft and fluffy things, really)
[*]Staying busy
[*]Feeling useful or being depended on
[/list]
[b][color=876051]𝔻𝕚𝕤𝕝𝕚𝕜𝕖𝕤:[/color][/b]
[list][*]Shows of wealth
[*]Idling
[*]Comments about her appearance, particularly her scars
[*]Being a burden
[*]Herself
[/list]
[hr][hr][h3][b][i][color=876051][center]𝕀𝕟𝕗𝕠𝕣𝕞𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟:[/center][/color][/i][/b][/h3]
[b][color=876051]𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕖𝕣𝕒𝕝 𝕊𝕜𝕚𝕝𝕝𝕤:[/color][/b]
[list]
[*][b]Athletic skill:[/b] Faint has a finely-trained body, with great stamina and strength for her size. Her flexibility and balance leave little to be desired.
[*][b]Nursing:[/b] A holdover from a previous life. Faint is used to taking care of ill or injured people. This is aided by some practical knowledge of medicinal plants, though, suspiciously, most pain killing herbs she is familiar with can just as easily be used to make poison.
[/list]
[b][color=876051]𝕄𝕒𝕘𝕚𝕔𝕒𝕝/𝕊𝕡𝕖𝕔𝕚𝕒𝕝𝕥𝕪 𝕊𝕜𝕚𝕝𝕝𝕤:[/color][/b]
[list]
[*][b]Presence Concealment:[/b] The skill that earned Faint her name was her eerie ability to conceal her presence even in plain sight, becoming bland and uninteresting to the eye to such a degree that people may not realize she is in the room. The effectiveness of this ability is reminiscent—and might even be an instinctive use—of magic. Even lacking this skill, Faint’s training has made her adept at moving lithely and silently, avoiding notice.
[*] [b]Lockpicking:[/b] Faint is a skilled lockpick, always equipped to break her way into places she shouldn’t.
[*] [b]Knife Nut:[/b] Faint is frighteningly effective with her chosen weapons. She wields her long knives with a deadly grace almost reminiscent of a martial dance. Even should she find herself without these, she is rarely without several spare throwing knives and short daggers.
[*] [b]Unarmed combatant:[/b] While not as deadly as with her knives, her mentor would not allow for her to be defenseless while unarmed. Faint is a flexible and able combatant, trained in techniques to incapacitate opponents as practically and quickly as possible. These typically revolve around striking the body’s weak points, such as the solar plexus, crotch or throat, or using holds that don’t require her to leverage using a lot of weight.
[*] [b]Inner Focus:[/b] Aided by breathing and meditative techniques, Faint can sharpen her senses of hearing and smell, and even control her body’s temperature to a degree. This latter ability was gained in training meant to aid survival in harsh environments, but she has found it useful to avoid security measures that detect a person’s body heat.
[/list]
[b][color=876051]𝕀𝕟𝕧𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕪:[/color][/b]
[list]
[*] [b]Satchel:[/b] Usually tied to her waist. Contains her coin purse and her lockpicking tools.
[*] [b]Lockpicking tools:[/b] As expected, tools used to open locked doors and containers. 
[*] [b]Long knives:[/b] A set of thin, curved knives almost long enough to be sabers. She often carries these sheathed at her hips when traveling or otherwise expecting trouble.
[*] [b]Spare/Throwing knives:[/b] A number of knives hidden on her person. If one pays close enough attention, they may see a handle peeking from under her boot, or subtle bumps under loose sleeves.
[/list]

[hr][center][img][/img][/center][hr][h3][b][i][color=876051][center]ℍ𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕪:[/center][/color][/i][/b][/h3]

[hider=Long version]
Faint—though she did not go by that name at the time—was born in a port town, the third child of a skilled carpenter and his wife. Unfortunately, tragedy struck early in her life, and a virulent plague streaked from overseas. Her father fell victim to the disease, as did her oldest sibling. Her mother also contracted the plague, and though she survived, it left her crippled and bedridden. 

Faint does not remember any of this, aside from small tidbits recounted by her mother and her older brother, who, like her, had recovered from the affliction. Her earliest, most tender memories of her life are those of being held in her mother’s frail arms. Soon, however, she took it upon herself to tend to her mother’s every need, however a small girl barely half a decade old could. At first, by taking the coin proffered by her bedridden mother to buy kindling for the hearth. Later, as the coin began to dry, by gathering dung from stables near the city’s edge. Later still, when the charity from friends pitying the poor widow and her children turned to annoyance, she begged or took food off stalls to bring it home. She would occasionally change her clothes and clean her bed sores. She helped support the woman’s meager weight once they lost the rights to their home and had to move to a hovel in the slums. Most of all, she avoided her brother as best she could.

Her brother did not take their misfortune in stride the same way Faint had. He remembered the time before their father had passed, and missed them deeply. The sight of his weakened mother terrified and angered him, to the point where he avoided her as much as he could. He fell into a kind of resigned indolence, idling his days away until he found his way to questionable circles. Soon, he began to resent his little sister’s earnest efforts to sustain the nightmare he lived with. It started as an accident. He may have even regretted it, at first, but it did not take long for beatings to become the norm.

Faint did not understand why the change had happened, but she knew from then on that the house had become dangerous. She moved quietly at all times. Eyes cast down, a presence once lively turned mute and silent. She learned to go unnoticed. Her mother noticed the welts and bruises, and worried, but Faint had no words to explain her situation, and her mother, though she suspected, did not have the strength to pursue the cause. 

Faint still had not reached her tenth birthday before that strength failed. One day, she woke to find her mother had passed. Panicked, she set out to find her brother herself for the first time in years, hoping for him to tell her what to do. He had nothing to tell her. The next day, he took his mother’s remains and buried them. The beatings stopped, not to resume. 

Faint continued to go out to the streets to find what the family might need to survive, but without her patient, she found herself with time left over to grieve. There was a hope there, however, that now that her mother had gone things might be different between her and her brother. 

This hope died one night, when she overheard her brother speaking with some friends of his. One of the topics was the fact that the siblings’ parents had left them nothing to live off of after they passed. A frightful suggestion was passed along by one of the men speaking. Slavery as it were was not a lawful practice within the kingdom, but the port was frequented by people of many different cultures and walks of life, some of which might even avoid the eyes of the port authorities. A young, healthy girl might fetch a fine price to the right person.

The words extinguished the young Faint’s last ember of hope, and that she quitted their home that day, taking residence in the city’s streets. Only a few days later, however, her life took another turn.

One day, with the little food and coin she had kept for herself completely exhausted, she set her sights on a passerby’s coin pouch. She did not misjudge her mark and took the purse without difficulty. However, immediately after snatching her prize, a man rushed out and grabbed her by the wrist. Not the passerby, not a guard, but rather a stranger, an old, bear of a man that had seen the robbery take place and she had carelessly ignored. Still too close to her victim, a stolen purse on hand and afraid to make a real commotion lest the man was replaced by a real guard, she only dared struggling and ineffectually kicking at the man’s shins. Before she could gather her wits and reevaluate the danger she was truly in, she was dragged into an empty alley and knocked unconscious. 

She awoke in an unfamiliar bedroom and was greeted by the one who had carried her away. Though as far as she could tell nothing had been done to her while she slept, her first thought came back to that night before she abandoned her home, and the talk of oversea slavers. Despite the kidnapping, the man denied that accusation, though only in part. Rather, he had simply chosen someone to pass on his skillset, and added that she would simply vanish if she proved uncooperative, at which point he would go back to looking for candidates. In that regard, she could think of herself as a slave. That said, he would not be unkind. She would be provided with food and a room of her own while she remained under his care, though, of course, she would not be allowed to leave until he was convinced that she would not try to flee. 

The pleased turn to the man’s expression told her that her interest was writ plain on her face. A place to sleep sheltered from the weather and consistent meals would be enticing for anyone in her circumstances, but most of all, she realized that she would not be found by her brother or his friends while she was under this man’s keeping. It was the kind of offer she might accept even if she was not being forced. It was too good to be true, in fact, and a part of her dreaded what the old man might choose to make her do. It was in timid tones that she finally asked what would be required of her.

As it turned out, the man identified himself as a professional thief and racketeer, and true to his word, he set out to teach her everything he knew. A large breadth of disciplines was covered, from reading and writing, to rhetoric and arithmetic, down to physical, survival, infiltration and weapons training. The latter training was hellish for a young girl of her disposition, stretching her body and mind to its limits, and her teacher was always quick to remind her that, if she could not do what he expected of her, he would find another. It was due to this, rather than because of any kind of overt mistreatment, that she ever entertained the notion of escaping, but the idea that she might be once again thrust defenseless into the streets was always quick to cure her from rebellious thoughts. Fortunately, her progress seemed to satisfy her mentor, who never did good on his threats to do away with her. 

Another might have questioned the nature of the skills being imparted as excessive, but, as the matter stood, the young girl could only be amazed by the skills of a professional criminal, as opposed to a street rat like her. Only later, as her training progressed, and her mentor pushed her to put her skills into practice with his contacts among the city’s underbelly—among which she earned her name—did she begin to realize that her teacher was showing her things outside of the norm for their apparent profession. When asked, her mentor’s only explanation for this incongruity was that he had once been a soldier in the army, and that training had served him well after he had left it. This time she doubted the skills she had been taught could have come from the kingdom’s army, but chose against pressing further. It had already been many years since she had begun her training, after all, so the distinction made little difference in the practical sense.

One day, her mentor caught wind of caravan bringing goods for a powerful noble of their city. He gathered some of his connections, adamantly claiming that the goods being brought into the city included priceless artifacts and riches that could set some of them for life, and began to draft a plan to take over the caravan before it reached the walls. The plan succeeded, but Faint soon learned that the noble had ties to the city’s Assassin’s guild, which usually served as royal spies and killers, and that part of the shipment was, in fact, meant for the shadowy cabal’s head. 

It was quickly made apparent that she was not the only one to learn about this detail. One day, while returning to her lodgings, she caught wind that their house had been visited by a complement of guards, and that her mentor had been seized by the authorities. Within the house, in one of her mentor’s hidden compartments, she found a letter folded around a single boat ticket. It seemed her mentor had anticipated such a thing, and had begun preparations to leave the city. Unfortunately, he had counted with having more time before someone sought him out. Later, she learned that one of his contacts, fearing a cull of the city’s criminal elements by the assassins, had revealed the location of the plan’s mastermind. Her mentor was sent to a cell to await trial, but by the next sunrise, news arrived telling of a prisoner that had ended his own life within the prison holding cells. All involved in the debacle caught a glimpse of the strings moving to silence the man.

Only at this point did Faint finally decide to leave behind the city where she was raised.

[/hider]


[b][color=876051]𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪:[/color][/b] Faint was born into an impoverished family and lived with her mother and brother. Her mother was crippled by illness and her brother was abusive. Soon after her mother passed away, Faint fled to the streets, where she was picked up and kidnapped by a mysterious man.

This man claimed to be a professional thief looking for a successor. Under him, Faint underwent training that was more fitting for a highly skilled assassin than any kind of thief, though she was never employed in that specific capacity. Over a decade later her mentor was caught and executed after a suspicious job. 

Finding a letter and a ticket for a boat at her mentor’s house, Faint finally abandoned the city where she was raised, likely for good.


[hr][center][img][/img][/center][hr][h3][b][i][color=876051][center]𝔼𝕩𝕥𝕣𝕒𝕤[/center][/color][/i][/b][/h3]
[b][color=876051]ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕥𝕖𝕣 ℚ𝕦𝕠𝕥𝕖:[/color][/b] “There are things I wish I could put to rest, and others I’m afraid to. What kind of person would I be if I did?”
[/hider]