The following are recorded as Sybil's personal NPC's.
Margaret Shaw
Name: Margaret 'Shank' Shaw
DoB: 42nd Ashan, 693 (26)
Summary: A woman belonging to a broken family attempting to right the wrongs of her father. Mired in debt reaped from his tavern tabs and gambling habits, when he disappeared from their working class home in Rharne, she was forced to take up work or start losing limbs.
She claims to deal in contract work, and has a minor reputation with an axe when it come to monster hunting. Unbeknownst to her contractors, such renown is a farce, she poisons her quarry and mutilates them with an axe for better pay.
One could only imagine the collective sigh of relief when she doubled her father's dose of painkillers when he was dropped into her family's hands once again in some sort of coma.
Ms. Shaw is a woman defined by trials and tribulations. Rather than becoming a slave, she is notably resistant against her fate and is intent on carving her own path no matter the costs. Her abilities with underground negotiation for contracts and information is professional, but nothing particularly something to write home about.
NPC type: -300 PBP, 250 XP, 10 MIN, 40 MAX.
Skills:
Deception: 40/100 Poisoning: 40/100 Intelligence: 30/100
Negotiation: 30/100 Intimidation: 40/100 Hunting: 30/100
Chemistry: 40/100
Race: Human
Features: Folklore protective ward tattoos on the forearms (Useless), black hair, 5'11", slightly deformed ribcage from blunt force trauma, hazel eyes.
Personality: No nonsense, predatory, profit-minded.
Her connection to Sybil is one of a business arrangement. After learning that the student had performed an exorcism on her good for nothing father, the first thing she saw after she poisoned him to death was the potential profit to be made. She intends to ply her trade, and attempt to make something of her life. Knowing nothing other than freelance work, she fully intends on letting others handle the actual logistics side of things.
viewtopic.php?f=369&t=18928
DoB: 42nd Ashan, 693 (26)
Summary: A woman belonging to a broken family attempting to right the wrongs of her father. Mired in debt reaped from his tavern tabs and gambling habits, when he disappeared from their working class home in Rharne, she was forced to take up work or start losing limbs.
She claims to deal in contract work, and has a minor reputation with an axe when it come to monster hunting. Unbeknownst to her contractors, such renown is a farce, she poisons her quarry and mutilates them with an axe for better pay.
One could only imagine the collective sigh of relief when she doubled her father's dose of painkillers when he was dropped into her family's hands once again in some sort of coma.
Ms. Shaw is a woman defined by trials and tribulations. Rather than becoming a slave, she is notably resistant against her fate and is intent on carving her own path no matter the costs. Her abilities with underground negotiation for contracts and information is professional, but nothing particularly something to write home about.
"To sleep, to work. To work, perchance to profit." -Margaret 'Shank' Shaw
NPC type: -300 PBP, 250 XP, 10 MIN, 40 MAX.
Skills:
Deception: 40/100 Poisoning: 40/100 Intelligence: 30/100
Negotiation: 30/100 Intimidation: 40/100 Hunting: 30/100
Chemistry: 40/100
Race: Human
Features: Folklore protective ward tattoos on the forearms (Useless), black hair, 5'11", slightly deformed ribcage from blunt force trauma, hazel eyes.
Personality: No nonsense, predatory, profit-minded.
Her connection to Sybil is one of a business arrangement. After learning that the student had performed an exorcism on her good for nothing father, the first thing she saw after she poisoned him to death was the potential profit to be made. She intends to ply her trade, and attempt to make something of her life. Knowing nothing other than freelance work, she fully intends on letting others handle the actual logistics side of things.
viewtopic.php?f=369&t=18928
John Karlsson
Name: John 'Old Man Karl' Karlsson
DoB: 21st Cylus, 674 (45)
Summary: John lived among the dregs of society. Held down by the ankles until he nearly starved to death. It was in his starvation riddled youth that he discovered his uncanny talent for telling people what they wanted to hear. Beginning as a snitch, he made sure quite a number of criminals ended up in lockup, when persuaded with a few nell.
But that was short lived, when he found out just how much it paid to work against the constables. He then discovered the true price of information.
He crawled his way, for over twenty arcs, to be where he his now. Now in his forties, he has more skeletons in his closet than most mortuaries. There is very little his silver tongue can't help him with. And even in his 'retirement', crime still pays after all. Though, now he prefers the grey market to the black market, he still has some connections lingering around. If not, he knows just what strings to pull to make one appear.
John is a man defined by his resolve to survive and his unsavory, yet debonair solutions to problems. He enjoys the sound of his own voice and practices his speeches often. He knows how to deliver what people want to hear, and has a practiced intimidating air, to make others do the same. He lacks the energy for most menial labor though, and would much rather prefer to smoke his pipe in his lounge these days.
NPC type: -400 PBP, 350 XP, 10 MIN, 50 MAX.
Skills:
Intimidation: 50/100 Intelligence: 50/100 Negotiation: 35/100
Persuasion: 50/100 Discipline: 35/100 Psychology: 40/100
Deception: 30/100 Logistics: 30/100 Business Management: 30/100
Race: Human
Features: Salt and pepper hair, scarred knuckles, 6'3", swarthy skin, wide shouldered build.
Personality: Confident, withdrawn, picky loyalty, and domineering.
His connection with Sybil is odd. He can detect the fragments of the student that are brutally shattered, but cannot yet make full sense of them. He sees them as a contact for discreet matters, and perhaps someone to trust. There's an unspoken kinship between the two, namely fostered through Sybil's rather placid demeanor. One used to the grit of the streets enjoys the company of something new, after all. And if he has his hands on a service that very few can offer, well... Sybil will be kept in close company indeed.
viewtopic.php?f=369&t=18928
DoB: 21st Cylus, 674 (45)
Summary: John lived among the dregs of society. Held down by the ankles until he nearly starved to death. It was in his starvation riddled youth that he discovered his uncanny talent for telling people what they wanted to hear. Beginning as a snitch, he made sure quite a number of criminals ended up in lockup, when persuaded with a few nell.
But that was short lived, when he found out just how much it paid to work against the constables. He then discovered the true price of information.
He crawled his way, for over twenty arcs, to be where he his now. Now in his forties, he has more skeletons in his closet than most mortuaries. There is very little his silver tongue can't help him with. And even in his 'retirement', crime still pays after all. Though, now he prefers the grey market to the black market, he still has some connections lingering around. If not, he knows just what strings to pull to make one appear.
John is a man defined by his resolve to survive and his unsavory, yet debonair solutions to problems. He enjoys the sound of his own voice and practices his speeches often. He knows how to deliver what people want to hear, and has a practiced intimidating air, to make others do the same. He lacks the energy for most menial labor though, and would much rather prefer to smoke his pipe in his lounge these days.
"Two can keep a secret, sure. If you whisper sweet nothings to a corpse."
- John 'Old Man Karl' Karlsson
- John 'Old Man Karl' Karlsson
NPC type: -400 PBP, 350 XP, 10 MIN, 50 MAX.
Skills:
Intimidation: 50/100 Intelligence: 50/100 Negotiation: 35/100
Persuasion: 50/100 Discipline: 35/100 Psychology: 40/100
Deception: 30/100 Logistics: 30/100 Business Management: 30/100
Race: Human
Features: Salt and pepper hair, scarred knuckles, 6'3", swarthy skin, wide shouldered build.
Personality: Confident, withdrawn, picky loyalty, and domineering.
His connection with Sybil is odd. He can detect the fragments of the student that are brutally shattered, but cannot yet make full sense of them. He sees them as a contact for discreet matters, and perhaps someone to trust. There's an unspoken kinship between the two, namely fostered through Sybil's rather placid demeanor. One used to the grit of the streets enjoys the company of something new, after all. And if he has his hands on a service that very few can offer, well... Sybil will be kept in close company indeed.
viewtopic.php?f=369&t=18928
Slate Abbot
Name: Slate Abbot
DoB: 14th Ashan, 680 (39)
Summary: Slate was born to a family of Precariat workers within the Citadel of Viden. His childhood life is a tale of poverty, deprivation, and squalor. Having lost his mother to fever, and his brother to drink, the caste in which he belonged to, the 'Precariat' proved to be a precarious existence indeed.
During his time in the Academy, it was discovered that he had a distinct aptitude for legalism. It was no coincidence that he was groomed for the life of a ranking officer within the Rangers once he reached his teens, burying his mind in righteous convictions and matters that favored the Directorate.
It came as no surprise that he excelled at his role among the apprentices within the Rangers. Specializing in Urban law enforcement, by the time he had reached adulthood, he was entrusted with the duties that came with becoming a Ranger. He spent his final years of his career as a high ranking liaison between the Rangers and Mariners, with a stark reputation as a particularly hard to please leader.
However, he stumbled across a case that had gone cold, and just so happened to ask the wrong questions. When his questions went unanswered, he began looking deeply into the cavernous hole that was the Videnese reality.
It wasn't long before Slate was ousted from his position.
They say that he had convicted the wrong man of murder. In truth, he witnessed the act take place right in front of him. The issue? Suddenly, the witnesses had different testimonies. Suddenly they saw nothing. Stripped of his rank, gaslit by the country he once served, he took to drink and frontier justice on the very rim of the Videnese border.
TOTAL: -400 + -300 = -700 (350 + 60 XP over cap)
Skills:
Combat: Axes & Bludgeons: Cudgel: 80/100 Combat: Blades: Rapier: 50/100
Endurance: 30/100 Intimidation: 50/100 Investigation: 30/100
Leadership: 50/100 Politics: 30/100 Strength: 30/100
Tactics: 30/100 Discipline: 30/100
Race: Human
Features: Fastidious cleanliness, straight posture, burn-scarred face, authoritative accent, 6'5".
Personality: Just, unwavering, zealous, and confident.
He was tracking a murder case in an outlying town. It was a contract job rather than something the authorities were directly invested in, allowing him some legal leeway. By the time that he came across the necromantic hovel that bore the disgusting fruits of human experimentation and loss, he had found only charred remains and zealous locals. Impressed by the sheer power behind the villager's convictions, he tracked down this 'Malach' figure.
Confused at his findings, a 21 arc old that barely had any academic merits, he sat down and had a conversation with Sybil. A conversation that changed him. His desire for retribution focused towards... Something else. A brighter future, perhaps? He doesn't know what to think of Sybil and their company, but the beginnings of a fruitful business relationship has taken hold by mutual belief in morality.
viewtopic.php?f=369&p=131565#p131565
DoB: 14th Ashan, 680 (39)
Summary: Slate was born to a family of Precariat workers within the Citadel of Viden. His childhood life is a tale of poverty, deprivation, and squalor. Having lost his mother to fever, and his brother to drink, the caste in which he belonged to, the 'Precariat' proved to be a precarious existence indeed.
During his time in the Academy, it was discovered that he had a distinct aptitude for legalism. It was no coincidence that he was groomed for the life of a ranking officer within the Rangers once he reached his teens, burying his mind in righteous convictions and matters that favored the Directorate.
It came as no surprise that he excelled at his role among the apprentices within the Rangers. Specializing in Urban law enforcement, by the time he had reached adulthood, he was entrusted with the duties that came with becoming a Ranger. He spent his final years of his career as a high ranking liaison between the Rangers and Mariners, with a stark reputation as a particularly hard to please leader.
However, he stumbled across a case that had gone cold, and just so happened to ask the wrong questions. When his questions went unanswered, he began looking deeply into the cavernous hole that was the Videnese reality.
It wasn't long before Slate was ousted from his position.
They say that he had convicted the wrong man of murder. In truth, he witnessed the act take place right in front of him. The issue? Suddenly, the witnesses had different testimonies. Suddenly they saw nothing. Stripped of his rank, gaslit by the country he once served, he took to drink and frontier justice on the very rim of the Videnese border.
"I saw what I saw. I don't need your validation, son."
-Slate Abbot
NPC type: -400 PBP, 350 XP, 10 MIN, 50 MAX. (-300 pbp = 60 XP)-Slate Abbot
TOTAL: -400 + -300 = -700 (350 + 60 XP over cap)
Skills:
Combat: Axes & Bludgeons: Cudgel: 80/100 Combat: Blades: Rapier: 50/100
Endurance: 30/100 Intimidation: 50/100 Investigation: 30/100
Leadership: 50/100 Politics: 30/100 Strength: 30/100
Tactics: 30/100 Discipline: 30/100
Race: Human
Features: Fastidious cleanliness, straight posture, burn-scarred face, authoritative accent, 6'5".
Personality: Just, unwavering, zealous, and confident.
He was tracking a murder case in an outlying town. It was a contract job rather than something the authorities were directly invested in, allowing him some legal leeway. By the time that he came across the necromantic hovel that bore the disgusting fruits of human experimentation and loss, he had found only charred remains and zealous locals. Impressed by the sheer power behind the villager's convictions, he tracked down this 'Malach' figure.
Confused at his findings, a 21 arc old that barely had any academic merits, he sat down and had a conversation with Sybil. A conversation that changed him. His desire for retribution focused towards... Something else. A brighter future, perhaps? He doesn't know what to think of Sybil and their company, but the beginnings of a fruitful business relationship has taken hold by mutual belief in morality.
viewtopic.php?f=369&p=131565#p131565
Warrick Bowman
Name: Warrick Bowman
DoB: 29h Ashan, 682 (37)
Summary: Warrick was left horrifically maimed after a bandit attack claimed the life of his uncle. He was a child back in those days. Yet at the age of ten, he was sold off into slavery rather than killed. Used as a farmhand, he spent many of his days in listless toil. He barely speaks common, and is illiterate.
The owner of the estate that owned him called him into his chambers once he turned eighteen arcs of age. She promised him fortune and power, if we was willing to murder her husband. It would be simple. She, a Becomer, would ambush them both as a wolf and only kill her husband. He would have to lead him into a trap. She then promised an initiation into the realm of magic.
Dumbly, Warrick asked for the longsword on the wall as a gift beforehand.
Unable to see the harm, seeing him as little more than a simpleton, she let him have her husband's shoddy, war-broken longsword.
What she didn't see coming was a blade coming down to split her skull into two through brute strength. Cleaved asunder, he wandered over to the husband's den, to tell him the bad news. Overjoyed that he had finally inherited the estate, and that he just escaped death, Warrick was given his freedom, training with the sword, and sent on his way with a purse of coin.
With his face hideously deformed, his body strong, and his mind uneducated, Warrick found himself wandering the countryside. He gained a reputation for brutal murders on behalf of local governments. Warrick has a fond distaste for mages and bandits, and it shows, given the type of contracts he accepts.
TOTAL: -400 + -150 = -550 (350 + 30 XP over cap)
Skills:
Combat: Blades: Longsword: 80
Discipline: 50
Endurance: 50
Intimidation: 50
Stealth: 30
Strength: 50
Tactics: 20
Resistance: 50
Race: Human
Features: Disfigured face, bulky frame, tally marks on his shoulders, bald.
Personality: Sadistic, simple, hardheaded.
Warrick was under the employ of Slate when he discovered the ruined, burnt to a crisp necromantic camp. He liked what he saw. When the two met Sybil, he heard about their incident with bandits. He liked what he heard.
He's a simple man. He agrees with someone, he follows them.
viewtopic.php?f=369&p=131565#p131565
DoB: 29h Ashan, 682 (37)
Summary: Warrick was left horrifically maimed after a bandit attack claimed the life of his uncle. He was a child back in those days. Yet at the age of ten, he was sold off into slavery rather than killed. Used as a farmhand, he spent many of his days in listless toil. He barely speaks common, and is illiterate.
The owner of the estate that owned him called him into his chambers once he turned eighteen arcs of age. She promised him fortune and power, if we was willing to murder her husband. It would be simple. She, a Becomer, would ambush them both as a wolf and only kill her husband. He would have to lead him into a trap. She then promised an initiation into the realm of magic.
Dumbly, Warrick asked for the longsword on the wall as a gift beforehand.
Unable to see the harm, seeing him as little more than a simpleton, she let him have her husband's shoddy, war-broken longsword.
What she didn't see coming was a blade coming down to split her skull into two through brute strength. Cleaved asunder, he wandered over to the husband's den, to tell him the bad news. Overjoyed that he had finally inherited the estate, and that he just escaped death, Warrick was given his freedom, training with the sword, and sent on his way with a purse of coin.
With his face hideously deformed, his body strong, and his mind uneducated, Warrick found himself wandering the countryside. He gained a reputation for brutal murders on behalf of local governments. Warrick has a fond distaste for mages and bandits, and it shows, given the type of contracts he accepts.
"..."
-Warrick Bowman
NPC type: -400 PBP, 350 XP, 10 MIN, 50 MAX. (-150 pbp = 30 XP)-Warrick Bowman
TOTAL: -400 + -150 = -550 (350 + 30 XP over cap)
Skills:
Combat: Blades: Longsword: 80
Discipline: 50
Endurance: 50
Intimidation: 50
Stealth: 30
Strength: 50
Tactics: 20
Resistance: 50
Race: Human
Features: Disfigured face, bulky frame, tally marks on his shoulders, bald.
Personality: Sadistic, simple, hardheaded.
Warrick was under the employ of Slate when he discovered the ruined, burnt to a crisp necromantic camp. He liked what he saw. When the two met Sybil, he heard about their incident with bandits. He liked what he heard.
He's a simple man. He agrees with someone, he follows them.
viewtopic.php?f=369&p=131565#p131565