Name: Ama Maria [More infamously known as: Ethereal Assassin]
Age: 17
Race/Species-Demons and Angels only/Class-humans only: Assassin Human
Hometown: Tunarcya
Parent(s): Arya and Urimer Irim. Adoptive Father, Ludice "Thresher" Maria
Weapons: Blessed dual short swords, Blessed bow and arrows, and a generic dagger
A Blessed Talisman that allows her to sense the presence of Ethereal beings, whether good or evil
Special Abilities: Minor Magic and High Stealth
Shadow Kill-Disappears completely in shadows, a spell
Silent Step-Can run without making any noise, a spell
High takedown-Regardless of range, can drop on someone and kill them instantly.
Melee-Highly trained in the arts of self defense

Keplin, A hawk used for scouting ahead. When he's not on her shoulder he rests in her pouch, asleep. It may seem odd for a sleeping place but he enjoys the ride.
Personality: Demure, sarcastic, and overall just damn 'peachy,' Ama has long learned not to take life very seriously and enjoys her work. Though she has no direct hatred for the Angels or Demons, she has no problem assassinating them, or their fellow rascist humans. She doesn't let people get too close to her usually, but she does have a weakness for extremely attractive targets. Her nasty habit is seducing a few especially charming targets before taking their life. She is very fond of her Hawk Keplin and treats him as a prince, often regarding him as her 'little prince' and jokingly regarding him as the only man she needs in her life. She is also a massive Daddys girl.
Years been in hiding(Angels and Demons)/Years been hunting(Humans) and circumstances/reasons why: 10. Her name has grown in scale over the past few years and both demon and angel generals alike pay her under the table to wipe out each others biggest enemies. Neither of them know that she is a 'double agent,' but all she sees is that shes being paid either way.
Written as a poem because why not
One gloomy summer night
With home glown alight
By a lone candles flick
Is a woman sporting a bay
with a decorated and blessed man on her hip.
Though the smiles were shared by the two
When the wick was cut
It was shared by one
and then none.
The blood riddled the home
Formally glown alight.
But before the assassin could flee into the night
There was a cry, full of pain, full of fright.
A shudder of the truth of what behest
Ludice, the assassin, held the child close to his chest
Swaddled in his strong arms
It was as though her mother was not at rest.
Grim faces and tears decorating the assassin
He fled to his Coven
Of which shadow warriors trained and blankets woven.
They cried,
"You bring a Plague!"
Yet he remained silent.
He remained Vague.
With a silent plea his leader would sigh.
"Give the child her rest," He said
"And with it rest our Pride."
Alas as the assassin grew his adopted child grew,
for once found joy in raising life
and making it new.
Ludice bestowed upon her a name
After her twinkling eye
"Ama."
She begged
and she prodded,
Until her 'fathers' head nearly blew
"Fine," He said in exasperation,
"I shall teach you."
For years under his eye,
She knew pain,
She knew thrill
She knew the ways of the shadows kill.
With her new found skill
And talent for death,
The Leader himself in sparring
found himself gasping for breath.
She was given a contract
At the age of red.
Given Blessed Weapons,
Proved most effective to the dead.
Golden Blood Was Spilled.
As was Black.
And now Several years later
Ama is still on the Attack.