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maximum spells increased to 12 from rewards
WEAPON(S):Twin daggers - one that lives in an ankle sheath tucked in a boot and the other in a wrist sheath. A smaller dagger that can be kept between her breasts incase she gets disarmed of the other two.
CLOTHING:Anything black or that makes her blend into an environment. Usually pants and boots and shirts. Loathes dresses.
MOUNT(S):Her own two feet or any horse left unattended long enough for her to nab.
OTHER:A fancy signet ring with a family crest on it that she keeps hidden on a long chain tucked in her shirts at all times. She doesn’t know what fancy family it’s from just knows it belonged to whomever her mother was.
Has a birthmark on her left inner thigh
Wind has a fire cracker personality and isn’t afraid to show it. What most people don’t realize is that all that attitude and bluster she puts forth is just a way to keep people from getting too close to her. She’s used to people leaving her, be it on purpose or by death, so rather than continue to let herself get hurt she keeps people at arm’s length this way.
She’s definitely one of those people that will only offer help if it benefits her in some way. If it comes to a fire fight she’s going to run rather than stay and fight and she will trip someone to give her the upper hand. You know, so long as she doesn’t need that person to get what she wants.
Wind would never know her birth name nor would she know who her real birth parents really are. She’ll never know that two years after her birth she was stolen from her bed and take away to be raised as someone else.
Her father called her Wind because she seemed to have appeared to him on a cold Winter wind. He liked to tell her that she had simply appeared on the cold night, bundled and sleeping as if the cold didn’t touch her, that some spirit had dropped the little girl in his lap when he needed her most. He was not a rich man by monetary means but he had a modest farm and did well enough for himself after his wife’s death; which he lead Wind to believe was as she gave birth to the dark haired child. He would talk of her mother often, even had the ring she always wore before her family disowned her which he eventually gave to Wind as a gift on her seventh birthday. They were together for eight blissful years before their small homestead was attacked.
Her father hid her away before the ruffians could find her and when it was all said and done their home burned around her, her father lay in a pool of blood and she had very little time to grab what little gold they had and a change of cloths before fleeing as the fire reached their house. She ran crying into the night and learned just how rough life could be for someone who had no one to care for them.
She fought to stay alive alone on the streets, the pitiful amount of gold she had managed to take from her home having been stolen her second night now. She learned how to fight for any scraps kind hearted souls would toss at the urchins she learned to follow, she learned to fight for whatever she managed to steal and she learned how to steal without being caught.
She actually had no idea she was magically inclined until she realized people were...listening to her. She could ask for something, seem to easily convince a shopkeeper to give her some food without paying, simply by suggesting it. She was almost eleven when she started honing this skill, unaware for a while that it was magic, until a woman realized what she was doing and rather than chastising the girl took her in and trained her. Melinda was a good teacher but not so much a good caretaker. She was quick to dispatch discipline when Wind didn’t listen or seemed to take too long to nail down a new spell. Wind learned fast under Melinda’s tutelage and masted a few spells in the year she was with the woman, and began a few others, before the woman simply vanished one day.
Once again Wind was on the streets but now she was armed better. She knew things that could keep her alive, keep her safe, and she became the best damned pick pocket around, that’s her opinion of course. She even started her own little gang and they were, for their kind, rather successful. At this point she was fifteen and felt like the queen of the streets only, once again, the people in her life left her. Her gang decided they didn’t want her in charge anymore and kicked her out, rather forcefully, leaving her bloody and pissed off as she prowled the streets that had once been hers.
She started traveling over the next year, never lingering in one spot too long, never again trusting people to try and build a home with. She continued to pick pockets for bits and baubles as well as gold to buy new clothing when she outgrew what she had and put food in her belly - though she was okay with stealing that as needed as well if she didn’t have the gold. One day she picked the wrong pocket that also turned out to be the right pocket when it came right down to things.
The older man looked like an easy mark and she had fully intended of slyly slipping up to him and emptying his pockets into hers. Instead he caught her red handed but, just like Melinda, he didn’t turn her into authorities. Instead she got roped into whatever he was involved in and somehow...stuck around. He did too, even taught her to read and write and even pays her to stick around and help him with whatever job’s he’s planning. She’s learned more under him than, well, from anyone else ever she feels. He just might be the only person she wouldn’t leave behind if they were being chased by dragons or the like. Maybe.
|LOCAL TIME:||Feb 21 2018, 06:18 PM|
|POSTS PER DAY:||1.7|
|YEARS RPING:||5+ Years|
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