A M Y A S - D A L ' M O R I A N
Details
Full Name: Amyas Dal'Morian
Race: Sil'Norai
Sex: Male
Age: 20
Height: 6'2"
Weight: 192.5 lbs
Birthdate: 56th of Searing, Year 4601
Birthplace: Silfanore
Profession: Thief
Housing: Outskirts of Ríoven, Courounne
Partners:
Titles: N/A
Factions: N/A
Fluencies: Common, Silvain
Conversationals: None
Ineptitudes: None
Appearance
Amyas is on the shorter side of the Sil'norai, with the kind of build developed from slipping through crowds and running through streets, balanced like most of his race. His tattoo-like patterns stretch across his body, curling across his limbs and torso. He tends to keep them covered up, especially when getting to work, to try and avoid showing anything identifying. His pale blond hair is cut rough and short, usually dishevelled and not particularly well-kept with the characteristically pointy ears of his race helping to frame the rest of his face.
Like most Sil'Norai, Amyas has been affected by arcane mutations. From time to time, glass-like scabs form on his body, made of a flexible and durable material, which can be carefully removed. (Tyrnac's Heritage). Furthermore, his fingers are made of ivory, having grown around and replaced the flesh as he matured. Slightly more durable, they can slowly regrow from damage. (Ivory Grip).
His appearance is a contradiction of sorts, the characteristic skin of his heritage contrasting his perpetual state of grubbiness. He wears the typical kind of clothes you'd see Daravin commoners wear, also sporting a hooded cloak he uses to obscure his identity. He finds it's also useful for hiding the fruits of his pickpocketing.
Personality
A lack of formal education means Amyas is not the most learned of people, not having read many books in his life. He's mistrustful — even fearful — of true magic, truth and fiction blurring to make mages seem practically untouchable. He's learned to keep his head down and away from whatever thing has the nobles' attentions this time, the stories that get passed around in hushed whispers enough to satisfy his curiosity.
Still, it's not like he's ignorant about the world. The life of a commoner in Daravin means he doesn't really have time for charity, holding a mainly selfish mentality. He's willing to do a lot of things for his family, and while that's not to say he prefers to, he'll push other people down if it helps the people he cares for.
Amyas tends to be sceptical about charity, but that derives more from who's giving it than anything. Since the rich in Daravin tend to be mages, he's wary of accidentally being sucked into their games, though his fear of their magic means he won't out and out decline them. It's one of the reasons he tends to book it when he sees people who look like noblility; he'll gain in the short-term, but what does he sign up for in the process?
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History
Like many Sil'Norai, Amyas' family first dwelled in the homeland of Sil-Elaine, though while he was born in the capital of Silfanore, remembers very little of it. They were tired of the way the Court of Dusk ruled with rotting, iron fists, how the monsters supped on the souls of their subjects. So, his parents fled to the neighbouring nation of Daravin, mercifully able to escape to their new life. Though the borders of their home were tightly guarded, an underground train overseen by the Black Remedy gave them a way of escape.
But out of the frying pan, and into the fire as they say. They ran from one ruling class to another, from monsters who preyed upon the common folk to sorcerers who preyed upon the common folk. The rift was so wide, the gilded luxuries of the nobility belying the ramshackle existences of those below them. His parents thought it was better, though — at least marginally. They were safer, or perhaps simply so disheartened to see such similarities to Silfanore that they abandoned their ideals of freedom and settled down.
It was here that Amyas was raised, his family struggling to make ends meet. And failing, really — less keeping themselves afloat so much as bailing out water to try and stop themselves from sinking. They survived, at least, scraping together enough to put dinner on the table and being fortunate enough to avoid the kind of strife that would ruin them. Amyas took to work when he could, a few more coins added into their purse.
At first, Amyas earned a living the honest way, but as he grew up the strain on the family purse grew further. It wasn't enough anymore. In the end, it was sink or swim. If a few families went under to keep him and his family up, then he'd pay that price for a few more coins. It wasn't much, but it was a living, and that was what mattered. The whims of the nobility went over the man's head, or rather he scurried underneath them. If he just kept his head down and minded his own business, he'd eke out another day.