Post by skeyti on May 7, 2014 6:08:37 GMT
[attr="class","icoco"] | [attr="class","icoco"] | [attr="class","icoco"] |
[attr="class","qty"]"why don't you close your eyes and reinvent me"
[attr="class","bxy"]
There isn't an art to violence. There's just efficient brutality. Streamlined. Metal digging through meat and scraping against bone. That's the point of the knife. That's all it is.
That's what they told you. They put the blade in your fist. First they said kill for our god and you killed. Later, they came to you with different faces and said kill for our principles and you killed. You didn't care what it was for. You only knew the gleaming chrome of orders. You were nothing. You were no one. You were a tool. You were the knife and that was all you were.
But before that, although it is a time lost to you now, you were a street urchin in Val Royeaux. Orphaned and feral, with a mouth too smart for how skinny you were. You had a friend, someone you loved above your own life, someone you took punches to the face for, again and again. And you rolled to your feet, spitting blood, again and again, vibrating with anger and refusing to back down. You stole food from the market stalls, fresh fruits and delicate pastries never sold in the alienage. You smuggled them to her, effervescent with joy, with friendship, with being young and alive.
And then you died. Or you were supposed to die. If you could think, you might have chosen death, all those years ago. If you were aware, you might have preferred it to what came after.
But you aren't, so it doesn't matter. You drowned a decade ago, although death never came for you. Only the soft-booted footsteps of a Chantry mother with eyes of fire. They found you instead. They needed a body no one would miss. They didn't need whomever was inside of it. They rebuilt you. They improved you. They sharpened the edge of their sword. They made you exactly what they needed.
You have no objections to the matter. The axe doesn't question the executioner. It only kills.
LIST OF TALENTS: heartseeker, ghost, weak points, flicker, mark of death, exploit weakness, lacerate, feast of the fallen, shadow form, decoy, shadow striking, pandemonium, precision, dual-weapon training, dual-weapon finesse, dual-weapon expert, twin strikes, find vitals, low blow, unending flurry, dual striking, riposte, cripple, punisher, bursting arrow, pinning shot.
LIST OF SKILLS: improved trap-making, expert combat training, improved vitality.
SPECIALIZATION: shadow, assassin.
[attr="class","jigs"]TWENTY-EIGHT • ASSASSIN • ORLAIS • HUMAN
[attr="class","noccio"]SKEYTI
[attr="class","bb"]There isn't an art to violence. There's just efficient brutality. Streamlined. Metal digging through meat and scraping against bone. That's the point of the knife. That's all it is.
That's what they told you. They put the blade in your fist. First they said kill for our god and you killed. Later, they came to you with different faces and said kill for our principles and you killed. You didn't care what it was for. You only knew the gleaming chrome of orders. You were nothing. You were no one. You were a tool. You were the knife and that was all you were.
But before that, although it is a time lost to you now, you were a street urchin in Val Royeaux. Orphaned and feral, with a mouth too smart for how skinny you were. You had a friend, someone you loved above your own life, someone you took punches to the face for, again and again. And you rolled to your feet, spitting blood, again and again, vibrating with anger and refusing to back down. You stole food from the market stalls, fresh fruits and delicate pastries never sold in the alienage. You smuggled them to her, effervescent with joy, with friendship, with being young and alive.
And then you died. Or you were supposed to die. If you could think, you might have chosen death, all those years ago. If you were aware, you might have preferred it to what came after.
But you aren't, so it doesn't matter. You drowned a decade ago, although death never came for you. Only the soft-booted footsteps of a Chantry mother with eyes of fire. They found you instead. They needed a body no one would miss. They didn't need whomever was inside of it. They rebuilt you. They improved you. They sharpened the edge of their sword. They made you exactly what they needed.
You have no objections to the matter. The axe doesn't question the executioner. It only kills.
LIST OF TALENTS: heartseeker, ghost, weak points, flicker, mark of death, exploit weakness, lacerate, feast of the fallen, shadow form, decoy, shadow striking, pandemonium, precision, dual-weapon training, dual-weapon finesse, dual-weapon expert, twin strikes, find vitals, low blow, unending flurry, dual striking, riposte, cripple, punisher, bursting arrow, pinning shot.
LIST OF SKILLS: improved trap-making, expert combat training, improved vitality.
SPECIALIZATION: shadow, assassin.
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