Name: Amara Wolfhart
Age: 25
Gender: Female
Appearance:At first glance, Amara looks like a fragile doll. The woman is a small, seemingly delicate creature with skin fair enough to cause strangers to wonder if she ever sets foot outside of the shadows. Her long hair is equally pale, a shade of blonde so light that it appears white in certain lights. Most days she chooses to leave it unbound and the gentle wave in the strands draw attention to her heart shaped face and dainty nose. To complete this doll-like look she has large doe eyes with pupils dark enough to appear black, which can be construed as unnerving by some people.
There is something that mars her pristine image however; a scar that cuts through the right edge of her full lips and continues all the way down her neck before stopping just beneath her collarbone. It is completely healed over now, it's pink hue faded to white, but instead of hiding it Amara leaves it on display and wears it like a badge of honor.
She is usually the shortest person in any given room and on an average day chooses to cover her slight form in long, gossamer thin dresses in tones of ivory or dove grey. Her style only truly varies when Amara is on assignment, when she favors black and dons form fitting breeches, leather tunics, and dark hoods so she can move quickly and be as silent as a wraith. The only true constant in her wardrobe are gloves that come up to just below her elbows, which are a necessity considering all of the poison she deals with on a daily basis.
Personality:This woman’s unassuming appearance often leads strangers to underestimate her and Amara prefers it that way. After all, it's so much easier to get close to someone when they think you're a sweet little lamb.
When she is working Amara is cunning and manipulative, transforming into whatever character she must to earn a mark’s trust. It doesn't matter to her whether she needs to be the shrinking violet, the sweet but naive girl next door, or the sultry temptress, Amara will play the part to a near flawless level in an attempt to get in their good graces. To her close friends and colleagues this can often be both deeply disturbing and hilarious, seeing as how out of the ordinary these behaviors are for her. But no one can fault her talent or the ruthless persistence she employees when on the job.
In her downtime Amara is more relaxed, with a laid back sort of disposition and a dark sense of humor, thanks to a lifetime spent around corpses. This constant exposure to the dead and dying also means that she isn’t frightened by much and doesn't bat an eyelash at gore or death itself, instead choosing to write it off as an unfortunate inevitability. While no one would ever accuse the pale woman of being warm and cuddly, she will commit small acts of kindness for the people she has affection for. Sometimes this manifests itself as making extra salve for a fellow guildmate after they’ve been wounded on assignment or other times you can see it in the careful way she looks after her friend's family and belongings when they're away.
Weapons: - Primary - Bow
- Secondary - Dagger
Magic User: No.
History:Amara never knew her mother and was primarily raised by her father, Atlas, who was a well known coffin maker and undertaker within the walls of the disk. As there was no one else to look after the young girl she spent an exorbitant amount of time with Atlas while he was working, constantly watching him wash and prepare the bodies or carefully assembling sturdy pine boxes. Whenever they had a hard month and were struggling to pay their dues her father would cut open the corpses to harvest their organs beforing turning around and selling them on the black market to make up the money still owed. While Amara knew that this wasn't strictly legal, it kept them within the safety of the city’s walls and out of the wildlands, so she never resented him for it.
Life continued and all was right in Amara’s world, until one day it wasn't. The year she turned sixteen someone caught wind of Atlas’ meat peddling tendencies and turned him into the city guard, who had her father thrown into prison and his assets seized. Penniless and out on the streets the girl tried her best to stay in the disk, but was ultimately kicked out when she could not pay her dues. She made her way to one of the smaller settlements on the outskirts of the walls but again luck was not on her side and she was picked up by a group of marauders her second night.
Amara tries to block out most of what happened to her while she was in their clutches.
But it was during these dark times that Amara learned to play her parts so well, altering the way she spoke or fluttered her eyelashes to avoid more vicious treatment. She began sticking to the shadows, stepping softer, and trying to make herself as unseen as possible to avoid drawing the attention of these deplorable men. They went on like this for five long years, until one night the abuse became too great and something in Amara snapped. Quiet as the grave she slunk through their rooms, slitting their throats one by one until the captain was the only one left with a pulse. He woke right in the middle of Amara dealing the killing blow and returned the favor by loosing his dagger and carving a line down her face and neck with his last breath.
She managed to stumble out of their encampment and made it to the road before she could go no farther and collapsed. She faded in and out of consciousness all morning, waiting for some beast to come along and finish her off so she could finally rest for a while, but fortune chose to smile on the the dying girl instead. Traveling along the path came a merchant and a full convoy of armored guards. At first Amara feared that she would be enslaved again and did her best to hold up her dagger through blearly eyes and bloody teeth. Eventually the merchant, an older woman named Meng, climbed down from the caravan and stooped down low to survey the girl before her lips slowly twitched up into a manic grin.
"I like your spirit, little monster. I'll show you how to use those claws of yours, if you'll let me."With no better options in sight, Amara naturally said yes.
It turned out Meng called the small settlement of Moora home and as far as cities outside the disk went, it wasn't awful. The merchant was well regarded in her community for the healing ointments she would craft and powerful people from all over would pay her to brew up toxic potions so they could dispose of their enemies without getting their hands dirty. Meng nursed her young ward back to health and then immediatly set about showing her the ropes of her apothecary business.
Amara took to it like a blade to flesh. Posions just made
sense to her and the scarred girl spent much of her time tinkering with recipes, crushing up hemlock and nightshade at her desk for hours on end and mixing it with different snake and scorpion venoms until she got the proportions just right. Getting them perfect became like a game to her. Some clients wanted their victims to suffer and required a toxin that would prolong the agony for days on end, while others desired a quick venom that could be ingested and wouldn't leave a trace so their demise would appear less suspious. Amara gladly filled each and every request, working tirelessly and earning herself and Meng quite a bit of money in the process.
After three years of apprenticing under Meng, Amara had finally saved up enough money to travel back to the disk and pay her dues long enough to find her father. The pair parted on good terms and the young poisoner returned to the safety of the walls only to find that her father had died a few years earlier when a fellow prisioner snapped his neck over a petty argument about food rations.
She took great pleasure in killing that prisoner slowly, bribing a guard to slip increasing amounts of belladonna powder into his food untill his pitiful heart gave out.
Amara spent the next year offering her services to the people of the city. She made poisions and salves indescrimantly and even branched out to murder when the coin was good enough and the buyer could be trusted to be discreet. Eventually she received a letter from Black Lily and after accepting their invitation Amara spends her days due free and doing what she loves most; killing the real monsters of the world.
Bozo
Apollosarcher
