Jack Elarithon
Helios
Posting Color: Gray (#a9a9a9)
Name: Asher
Race: Human / Kossar
Sex: Male
Age: 120
Hair: Black / Short
Eyes: Blue
Height: 6'1 (185 cm)
Weight: 175 lb (80 kg)
Languages: Kossar, Common, Elven (basic)
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral
Vigor: 75
Arcana: 0
Strength: 35
Melee Warfare: 50
Ranged Warfare: 75
Speed: 30 ft
Asher is a Shadowmelder; able to pass between the physical plane and the Shadow Realm at will.
RIGHT WEAPON
• Steel Shortsword
LEFT WEAPON
•
ADDITIONAL WEAPON
• Light Ornate Crossbow
AMMUNITION
• Steel Bolt x8/10
• Tranquilizer Dart x9/10
• Noise Bolt x9/10
SHORT WEAPONS
• Steel Dagger [Paralyze Rune]
•
HEAD GEAR
• Black Hood
• Dark Tinted Glasses
• Kossar Thieves Guild Emblem
UPPER GEAR
• Master Thief Black Leather Armour
•
LOWER GEAR
• Master Thief Black Leather Armour
•
FOOT GEAR
• Master Thief Black Boots
RIGHT HAND
•
•
•
LEFT HAND
• Ornate Silver Ring
•
•
Asher is currently in possession of his satchel.
• Glass vial (full of ashes of dead Kossars)
• Professional Lockpicking Set
• Poison Dart x11
• Tranquilizer Dart x7
• Noise Dart x9
• Steel Bolt x2
• Forged Royal Succession Document (naming Asher a Kossar prince)
• Morse device and code table
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
• 209 gp
• 8 sp
• 7 cp
Somewhat withheld, Asher doesn’t waste words. His age of experience and staying in the shadows made him very indifferent to the petty squabbles and daily grievances of the people around him. A pretty shallow and empty existence; but when the time would rise to help those in need, the weak and the sick, his will was undeniable. That was until the events at Anapolis, when he became very jaded, although he hides that part well.
Born in the back alleys of Anapolis, a Kossar city-state, and later on found almost dead from hunger in front of an orphanage, his childhood was underwhelmingly pathetic. Forced to scrub the streets of his hometown since he was only six, like the rest of the orphans, he saw the true colours of the honour Kossar wore with such pride. The injustice they forced upon the poor trying to survive molded Asher, back then wearing a different name, into a bitter and resentful young man. When he was the oldest one in the orphanage, and room was needed, he was forced upon the street and turned to thievery. When he was fifteen, he saw an old man being trampled to death by guards, for selling stolen goods which he bought from some of the orphans. Asher attacked them and managed to distract them long enough for the old man to get away. For this action he was sent to jail and was locked up in the Kossar Dungeon.
In the dark, dank sewers known as the city prison, he met a man that introduced himself as a master shadowmelder. For some reason, no one but Asher noticed him, lurking in a corner, like a monstrous statue. The shadowmelder decided to share his knowledge, one last thing before he disappeared into the Shadow Realm completely. Asher accepted and quickly learned the basics, just before the master was gone. He escaped the dungeon soon after, using his shadowmelding skill to easily avoid any and all obstacles. Asher honed his shadowmelding skill using the combination of practice and stealing secret books about the Shadow Realm from eccentric collectionists. Many years followed and he became the leader of the whole of the Kossar thieves guild, due to his exceptional skill, and had hundreds of underlings. He made sure to guide his followers away from authority and harms way, and also secured funding for shelters for the impoverished and sick. For a hundred years all was well, except for the occasional attempted coup by some thief wannabe. It was well, until the demons attacked and the fools decided to burn their cities.
Surprisingly, Asher himself was asked by the city guard to help with the evacuation. He was surprised at first, his guild was well known to the residents of Kossar, but his own identity and location was kept a complete secret. Only those with real power in Kossar could have been able to contact him directly; a sign that the city and it people were indeed in great trouble. Asher helped with the organization and resource management, assigning his own men to help only the weakest and poorest of the citizens. Some of the guard helped the efforts as well, while the rest was escorting those that could walk by themselves. Even with the amount of effort Asher put into the evacuation, the demon army was fast and relentless.
The city was well off and behind the group led by Asher, the smoke and ash slowly dissipating, when they heard the thud of hooves and demons shrieking with excitement. It was only a small group, but it was closing in fast; the rest of the evacuees and armed troops was already well ahead Ashers group, leaving them with only a few guardsmen and thieves to defend themselves. Asher was no warrior. He was a thief, and at times an assassin. He could clear a palace full of unsuspecting guards all by himself, but an heavily armed, already attacking enemy was out of the question. Still, he put up a fight; to protect those that could not protect themselves, like he once was. After felling down three demons, a struck to the head made him lose consciousness, barely escaping to the Shadow Realm as he hit the ground.
He awoke hours later, still in the Shadow Realm, with only luck helping him escape the wraiths. Returning to the world, he found only ashes where once were trees and his people. The fires from the city spread, burning everything in their path, even the corpses of his comrades. Asher left the ashes of Kossar and took a new name, as a remainder of his failure and rage he felt towards not just the sorceress, but the world itself. He had no delusions, he knew that what he built would not last forever, but it still stung like a needle through his heart. The people that relied on him, the weak that looked up to him, he betrayed them all. But it was not his fault, he thought to himself, no. It was this rotten world that brings misery to him. He would take vengeance against the Sorceress first, and if he succeeded - the world would be next.
After three years of investigating the circumstances of Ilhirel's arrival, his discoveries brought him to Alicante, where he hoped to find the missing clues at the heart of the enemy's might.
Lightly built, average height, with a pale skin with firm wrinkles forming on his face. Two blue eyes peer out through his glasses; his pupils unable to narrow properly anymore, due to muscle atrophy. His hair is short and black, combed towards the back of his skull. Wears special light reducing glasses due to his eyes becoming extra sensitive to light after spending almost a lifetime in the shadows.
Last edited by a moderator: