Improved background, but changed it to Tiefling Shadowalker (Rogue 3 or Ninja 3 or Rogue/Ninja)
... familiar or not, the damned raven previously belonging to the fat dastard fencer is staying.
[sblock=Background]At the age of two he was given in "tutelage" to a mage without the prejudice his noble parents had. Yet they didn't want to lose total contact, so every now and then he received missives along with gold to pay for his "safekeeping".
The intent was just to keep him away from the family, but said mage had other plans in store for him, an ongoing observation of the awakening of magic in someone with The Art latent within. Success showed up soon enough; at the age of ten he could already bring forth his will to shape magic to his service... to his tutor this hadn't been possible until the age of seventeen, at least not with such control. The *only* flaw would be that he would not progress further than clouding out the light from a room... which soon made any real interest from his tutor to fall to nothingness.
But he didn't lose time, gradually he started learning about what was that that had brough him here, what was that which allowed his though to sculpt reality. He learned about the reason for his sharp teeth being unusually black and the back of his hands being covered with hard black scales. He wasn't surprised, nor scared, nor bothered by it... but was bored.
At the age of fifteen, when he only worked as a cadet for the old grey-bearded man, he departed without warning but not without forethought. Not to his household, serious doubts about how he would be received were present, he went to the city. Cloth wrappings around his hands, and smiling as little as possible should do the trick.
There I adapted fast enough, and learnt to adapt others to work towards my ends. I learnt to make friends and to get myself out of whatever trouble I got because of *uncustomary* works, I quickly found my way into hiring my talents... to people such as you master... your previous fat damned master.
But that kind of work sometimes gets one into serious trouble in a city, especially if you murder someone...
Hey! don't look at me that way, I was only doing justice, the fat dastard was going to give me in to the city guard; he seemed offended because I changed my ideas about what my share should be... and I started selling the stuff on my own.
Justice or not, it still meant that before morning being outta there would be good for my health. But you! Damned dead fencer's bird kept following me, even spat one or two insults, fine... as long as you don't peck out my eyes...
So here we are, just entered the *grandiose* carreer of adventuring, or at least I intend us to... But for the last week all we achieved has been waiting in this damned damp hole the innkeeper calls a room. Throwing daggers at the wall, waiting for the guy to call us out when Arakk comes searching for... how did the paper say? Need of some qualified folk? that's it.
He should pay better than the fat dastard... I mean, your master sold stuff to him, surely he made some profit out of it.[/sblock]
[sblock=Description [unfinished]]Normal height if a bit taller than most humans and of wiry complexion. Whenever he removes his cloak's hood, his untamable grey hair comes into view along with a pair of eyes of the same steely colour. Pale skin and sharp factions hint at some non-human heritage, maybe elven.
Dressed in normal travel clothes under his cloak, the only curious facts about his clothing are the loose cloth "scarf" he has wrapped around the lower half of his face, and the bandages covering the back of his hands, made of the same material.
[/sblock]