Sounds like fun! ^_^  Count me in!


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[img]https://i.pinimg.com/736x/db/0a/23/db0a2321b13f237e91726c765fc95c34.jpg[/img]

[i]"If there's gold involved, I'm your man."[/i]
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-Name: Hawke the Scoundrel
-Age: 31
-Equipment: Shortsword and dagger, throwing knives, smoke bombs, flask of ale

Biography:

Despised by some and mistrusted by others, Hawke is perfectly at home in the shifting sands of society, whether sordid or civilized.  He is a cunning rogue who gets by in life with his rugged good looks and charming wit, but when his tongue fails him, most find his sword to be sharper.  Though a skilled swordsman, Hawke often prefers a quick (and acrobatic) escape.  He is a creature of pure instinct, unbridled by the common constraints of morality and compassion, the very sort of scoundrel beloved by rich noblewomen aching for the spice of life.  It was this particular endeavor of his that landed him in serious trouble one night.

After being caught in bed with the baron's wife, Hawke fled town with the baron's men hot on his trail.  Eventually, he gave them the slip, thanks to a trusty smoke bomb, and disappeared into the night with a warm kiss on his cheek and a fat sack of gold to boot.

However, between botched card games, many a lovely prostitute, and far too much ale, Hawke found all of his ill-gotten wealth dried up quickly.  He was desperate, hungry for another big score.  It was in the back room of a seedy tavern, an old man told Hawke the grisly tale of Rodos, a land besieged by an undead curse yet brimming with riches.

Hawke wiped the ale from his lips on his arm, revealing an eager smirk.  [i]"Bah!  What's a few dusty, old bone-walkers gonna do?"[/i]  He laughed, and with that, he was off.

Little did he know of the horrors that awaited him.