Macman253

Wind smiled, took a bite from his apple and tossed it into the air an did a quick spin, a knife struck the apple and pinned it to the wagon. "Do I qualify for the job?" He asked in a cocky antivan accent.

Wind sat near the expedition, he had bribed a local merchant to give him the spot the Expedition is meeting, he also stole a bag of apples and munched them while he waited. He loved apples, sort of a childhood favorite. When he saw the first member approach the site, he could sense that she was a warden, they smelled of darkspawn. He took another bite out of his apple and began walking towards the expedition, pulling back his hood and smirking. "That expedition job still open?" He asked as he approached.

Deuce pulled his bike into a motel parking lot and decided to check in. The clerk was a short fat man with slick black hair and a unkempt beard. Deuce paid in cash and took the closest room to his bike. After he paid he noticed the clerk never took his eyes off the tattoo on his shoulder. He shrugged it off but kept his eye on him. When he got in he put a text to his friend Gizmo, Gizmo had a shop in the area that was special to hunters, he needed info and ammo. Gizmo replied saying that he was in and he had some special information for him. Deuce grabbed a shot of whiskey from the mini-bar and downed it then took off. He got to Gizmos shop, it was a sporting goods store with a very big back room. "Deuce! Your here look man I've got good info for you but I need you to do something for me?" Gizmo said as he came out from behind the counter, a mom and her daughter looked impatient at the clerks sudden abandonment of them. "i'll be right back, can you take care of those two?" Gizmo said as he took off for the back room. Deuce shrugged and approached the woman, "I can I help you ma'am/" He said in his thick irish accent. The woman was attractive, maybe late thirties and her daughter was around fifteen. The woman stared at him for a minute and he just shrugged. "No I don't work here but the owner is a friend of mine." She pointed at the pile of goods on the counter and he rung them up. For about a year Deuce hunkered down here when he got in abit of trouble with the Winchester brothers. The lady paid with cash and as she left she gave him an appreciating eye. He went into the back room and Gizmo was tinkering with a H&K G36 assault rifle. Deuce smiled and came up to the counter, along the wall was an arsenal of guns, from Glock handguns to light machine guns and crossbows, even swords made of damascus steel that has silver inlaid in the blade. Gizmo was a tinkerer and he often tested his ammo in the field with hunters, namely him and a few others. Gizmo smiled and placed two shotgun shell boxes in front of him. He held one shell up and beamed at it. "This is called Dragon's Breath, it fires a timed explosive that ignites the Thermite cap and causes the target to ignite in a thousand degrees. Figured your going to want these in future. But I've got something for you, this something is an old hunter weapon." he said as he pushed the shells to him, he bent under the table and popped up two more cases of silver hollowpoints and a box of silver shotgun slugs then a crossbow with a quiver of arrows, the shafts made of wood and the heads made of silver-inlaid steel. "Your going after a Vampire next mate." He said with a wide smile. Deuce groaned, he hated vampires mostly because they hated him, specially after that whole incident in detroit. "look, I love you Gizmo but vampires?" "A town down in florida is having issues with people dissappearing and then bodies shot up drained of blood, look go down there sniff around with that werewolf nose of yours and bring back the fangs and i'll compensate you with cash and the next location of the pack your looking for." Explained Gizmo, Deuce took the gear and stuffed it into a duffle bag. "Alright, but if I get bit I'm coming back to kick your ass..." He said over his shoulder as he walked out. Deuce hopped on his bike after filling his saddlebags and rode off, heading south east, as he was riding he saw a woman toss her phone to her passenger and they were texting. Deuce smiled and shook his finger and then gunned the engine, the special supercharger in his engine kicking over and he rocketed passed.

Ok now im caught up, Yeah i know I don't have to tell the story but its not really any fun if i don't I'm not writing this for me, I do enjoy writing and coming up with this stuff but I write it for you all to enjoy reading. I created Wind because he's different, he is truely a bad guy and in my last post you got to see a fraction of how far he will go, but hes bad with a good purpose. Winds name is Gal Laev and it means Cursed Wind, but I write the character because I enjoy writing him and hopefully you all enjoy reading about him. And as long as you enjoy reading about him I will enjoy writing his adventures with you and more... I know its one of those 'We want to move the story along' Sounds great to me that's why I moved the story so quickly, that and I had a lot of ground to make up since I joined the RP late, but hopefully Wind can integrate into the group quickly and effectively.

Wind moved among the crowds of the Merchant District, his cloak covering him as the Templars and the Guards looked for him. He moved in the crowd like a wraith, the exits were guarded by two Templar Knights looking for apostate mages and the circle mages but he knew that if he got to close they would search him and then things would be bad. "I may have no love for the Chantry but I know killing one of them brings a lot of heat..." He thought to himself as he remembered one of his first assassinations as a freelancer. A group of Apostate mages paid him a considerable sum to rid them of a particularly determined Chantry priest and his Templars, during the course of his investigations he found that the priest loved to torture mages and do many cruel things to them. In the end he didn't charge for killing the priest. He ducked into a shadowed area and watched the checkpoint, a break of luck two guards came over and filled them in on the situation and one of the Templars was brought with them leaving the last one alone. He checked his crossbow and made sure the bolt contained a paralytic poison that wasn't lethal. He walked calmly towards the checkpoint, his heart pounding and just as he got in range the Templar gave him a glance but didn't make to stop him and with that he breathed a sigh of relief after he had turned the corner and gone to Low Town. It wasn't long before he had gotten to the warehouse, He sat on a rooftop watching the guards, two at the door, four patrolling the grounds. He scanned the roof to see a hatch that was used for repairs and with a running leap he made it and was down inside the warehouse. The sound of a busy crew filled the warehouse, men shouting to move crates and barking orders. Wind slipped in behind some crates on the second level and watched as a stocky dwarf managed everything that went on. His red leather jerkin bearing the symbol of the Crimson Oars. He looked around to see the Overseers Office empty and moved quietly along the metal gangplank that made up the walk way on the second level. He quickly picked the lock and slipped inside. He checked the desk and sure enough he found the letters from the Ambassador, detailing the seizures of property at the harbor but there was something else. He mentions the assests held at a special parlor open to rich clients late at night. Flesh Auctions was a word that popped up a lot. The continual mention of merchandise and imported flesh told him that they had brought in a huge shipment of slaves, as he went through the files he found they were all Elves. Wind seeded with hate and decided to shut down this operation. He placed his hand on the floor and felt the thumping of footsteps, someone was coming and with that he slipped noiselessly behind some crates and waited. The dwarf from before entered and then sat down at the desk, his back turned to Wind. Quickly and quietly Wind approached, one of his Crow-Blades drawn. He slid the dagger to the dwarfs throat and the slaver froze. "Tell me where the slaves are, or I take your life..." He threatened in a calm almost sadistic tone, like a cat toying with a mouse. The dwarf gulped and began to sweat heavily. "I....I...I Don't know where they are only L knows fully..." He said, stuttering in fear. Wind thought for a moment, "This L person must be the boss of the whole operation." Wind watched as the burly dwarf shook with terror. "Tell me where the slaves go after they leave here." He said again in his calm tone, his antivan accent throwing in a much larger intimidation factor. "Just so you know, if your after L he was once a Crow, I'll tell you if you won't tell him I told you where to find them AND him." He said, "L and the slaves are never far apart, its a big shipment a special order for a client. Rumors are its Tevinter but I think its got something to do with L and the Ambassador..." He explained, Wind had figured the connection but what with the vanishing elves and this operation he knew that this was a big connection. "Who is the contact, what is the connection between L and the Ambassador?" Wind asked, pressing the blade further against his throat so that a trickle of blood ran down his neck and vanished into his armor. "Look all I know is that the slaves are being held at a secret place underground, there is a chamber in The Deep Roads, L goes there once a month with the slaves and we never see them again, My cousin Torlin is his guide only he and L knows where the chamber is." Wind, drew the blade back and cut the dwarf mercenaries throat, he died quickly and silently and with that Wind was gone, he knew Torlin he had dealt with him many times but he had thought Torlin was just a guide and treasure hunter not a slave smuggler. An hour later Wind arrived at Torlins house, he knocked on the door and smiled, trying to hold back his rage as the door opened and inside were Torlins two girls, Kamila and Lusiva. His wife was cooking dwarven Svorc' a kind of mix all soup and Torlin sat at the door smoking a pipe. Wind held up the badge of his cousin and the letters. "Tell me where the slaves are and I won't kill your family in front of you..." he said quietly but with every seed of malice he could muster. He hated slavers, his own history saw to the reason why. Torlin took a stressful sigh and quickly drew a map to the chamber in the deep roads. Once Torlin handed him the paper Wind drew one of his Crow-Blades with astonishing speed and held it up to the dwarfs throat. "I killed your cousin for being a slaver, when I come back you had better not be in Kirkwall or by the maker I will find you, I will carve 'Elf Slaver' into your and your families skin and throw you into the alienage, where the locals might not like to find out that there friends and family have been vanishing because..of you.." He said slowly and cruelly, Torlin gulped and nodded, with that he closed the door and Wind left, he entered the Hanged Man trying to find those people that were heading for the deep roads. The bartender handed him the advertisment and told them they would be in the Merchant quarter right about now. So without missing a beat Wind left and went to join them in the merchant quarter.

There we go, first post sorry if its rough.

Bray Road, outside of Kansas City Shaemus looked up at the full moon as he road hard, the distinctive roar of his bikes engine piercing the night sky like a demon from the depths of hell. This was strange to him, the moon shown bright and full yet it would not change him he felt no urge. His senses had heightened that is for sure, he smelled them. The pack leader and four wolves and they were closing fast. He glanced over his shoulder and saw the shapes in the distance. The leader was the person he was looking for, a long scar across his chin that ran over his eye. The four wolves bayed at him mockingly, he reached back and grabbed the sawed off stock of his 1887 winchester shotgun and gave it a flip to chamber a silver slug. "This is gonna get dirty..." He said to himself in his thick irish accent just as two of the wolves at his heels sprinted for him. Like a vaquero trick-rider Deuce dodged the first swiping strike by leaning away, the werewolf was a tall burly male with dark brown hair. His eyes transfixed on him. The female werewolf, a small asian looking woman on his right jumped up and swung at him and Shaemus laid back just in time, he sprung up and placed the barrel of the shotgun at the male werewolves chest and fired. The slug buried itself in the wolves heart and he dropped like a stone. Deuce smirked but soon things went alittle fuzzy as he felt his head slam into the handlebars and then he lost control and laid his bike down. He slid to a stop when the four werewolves caught up with him. "Mr O'Malley, I have heard of you. The Wolf that Hunts Wolves.." Said the leader. Shaemus, bloody and bruised pulled himself off the wreck and stood. He levered the next round in his shotgun with a gunslinger like flip and then unzipped his leather jacket, he spat up blood and smiled. "Good to see you again Michael, Last I saw you was what? A year ago in Oregon, That is when I gave you that face lift. He placed his hand on his side like he was injured and smiled. The leader growled in anger and signaled to the two male Werewolves next to him. "Kill him..." Deuce smiled and leveled his shotgun at the first Werewolf to charge and fired, the silver slug embedded itself into the wolfs brain and he dropped, Deuce drew a large .45 pistol and quickly fired four shots, the silver rounds dug into the werewolves face and he went down. Deuce had little time as the third werewolf slammed into him and pinned him to the ground. This female one growled and looked deep into his eyes and opened her jaws. "Wanna see a magic trick?" He flared his hand open to show a small eye-bolt shaped object hanging from the around his middle finger. When she realized that it was a grenade pin her face turned to pure shock, and her mouth opened wide. Deuce stuffed the grenade into her mouth and drove his pocket knife into her chin and through the roof of her mouth trapping the grenade in there, and with all his strength granted to him by the moon and kicked as hard as he could and the werewolf flew back and exploded into pieces of bone and gore. The explosion cracked through the night and was loud enough to wake the dead. Deuce shot up and started cheering, his eye bruised so badly it was swollen shut and blood poured from his mouth "Gotta love the classics..." He said cockily to Michael. There werewolf lost it and charged Deuce. Deuce just rolled his eyes and fired a shot into each of Michael's hands. The werewolf howled in pain and rolled on the ground. Lights in the distance caught his eye and he knew it was the police. "See, they come for us..." Said Michael...Deuce looked over his shoulder and then raised his pistol and fired his last shot into the lycans brain. He decided it was going to be strange enough to have to answer questions about a running gun battle with five naked people so he hopped on his bike and tore out of there. The cops didn't pursue him once they found the corpses. A hour later at a gas station Deuce groaned to himself as he looked down to see he had two broken ribs, luckily the moon and his regeneration had already begun mending but it still hurt like hell he thought as he bought a package of donuts and some coffee and then rode off.

Name: Shaemus "Deuce" O'Malley Age: 22 Appearance: Sort of short, always wears a leather jacket and jeans with a belt buckle that has a shamrock on it and his signature fedora with a ace of clubs playing card tucked in the band. Clothing: Black leather jacket, black motorcycle boots and black fedora. His shamrock belt buckle is special as it gives him extreme luck but at a cost of in certain moments his luck takes and equal turn for the worse. Also wears a tattoo on his bicep to protect him from demonic possession. Weapons: Sawed off 12 gauge shotgun, twin .45 pistols and on occassion a crossbow. During the full moon or a change cycle he prefers his natural fangs and claws. His harley-davidson, a customized motorcycle that he got from his adopted father. Background: Born in ireland, he grew up wild. An orphan and spent most of his time in one juvenile detention facility after another. When he was about 15 he got adopted by his parole officer and went straight, his parole officer was secretly a Hunter and one night a clan of werewolves came calling and killed his adopted family. He was infected but due to a genetic abnormality he changes but he cannot pass the disease off to others and during the cycles of the full moon he can fight the animal aggression but he still retains no memories of the night before he just knows that during that time he has control, albeit he mostly goes by his impulses. Personality: Brash and Cocky, Deuce has shown to be charismatic and a loner much of the time. He does possess infoulable luck but when it does backfire it tends to hit him hard, never really financially secure he spends his life drifting around the world, he tends to walk into a high priced casino and hit it big and then just travel on the money he earns. Cursed with lycanthropy he turns on the full moon but because he is a half feral personality he doesn't tend to completely give in and wont attack innocents but he has been known to hunt game much like a wolf would. Just before the change he tends to get aggressive and often he expends that aggression by pounding on the towns local thugs or getting into street brawls and then leaving town to go deep into the countryside to change. He holds himself to a high set of morals that at sometimes can seem flawed but they are what he calls His Code. He generally boils it down to a set of rules. Even though he's a loner most of the time he can be very sociable. He earned the nickname Deuce because he had a trick two-headed silver dollar which he uses in his plethora of magic tricks he knows, likes to say he learned them from another kid when he was locked up and mastered them with his over-abundance of time. Even though hes spent the last decade in america he still speaks with a heavy irish accent which usually lends well to his sex life. His main goal is to track the members of the pack that killed his adoptive parents and by doing so he is a constant drifter, he wears his parents wedding rings on a chain around his neck as a keepsake.

So I had been in L.A. for about a year, my friend Dawson and ex-bodyguard for the president found me after the whole kennedy assassination and low and behold I became a consultant. And no I'm not telling you guys anything about that. Lets just say I'm sworn to secrecy. Dawson had set himself up as the, quote 'Booking Agent For Bodyguards' in L.A. and he wanted me to come out there. Mind you this was during the eighties so things were...strange. I was mostly living out of a dirty loft apartment over a popular nightclub that I sometimes to take care of my free time worked as a bouncer at. Nothing special but the guy gave me a discount on rent and free beer so I never complained. Well Dawson called me one morning after a night working with a job offer...needless to say I very unhappy with my agent. I awoke when the phone started ringing, my head was pounding heavily to the beat of last nights music and the many many beers but I managed to shake it off and answered the phone. It was Dawson saying he had a job for me but he wanted to talk to me personally and i was to swing by his office. I hung up the phone without saying anything and rubbed the sleep and hangover from my eyes, I spent the next ten minutes looking for my pants when I found my fat black cat Rico laying on them while he slept. I walked over and grabbed him and lifted him off and set him on the floor. "Cat." I said, "You need to loose weight." Rico replied with a scorned look and a defiant meow and then leaped up onto my bed and landed on the t.v. remote. He sat down and swished his tail as he watched some kids show with transforming robots. I collected my gear, a laminated piece of ritual parchment, a pack of cigarettes. My silver flask with holy water, my lucky lighter Lucky and Jenny my .45 M1911 colt. I racked the slide on the pistol and checked to make sure the silver flakes and garlic cloves in the hollowpoints were still waxed in good and then tucked the pistol into my holster under my arm and threw on my leather jacket and boots. As I walked out I said "Don't watch it all day it'll rot your brain" to Rico as I walked out, he replied with a distinctive Get Out like meow and with that I left. My car which I love is a '71 dodge charger which back in 71' I bought fresh off the line and with that it wasn't long before I arrived at the lavish and over decorated office of my old friend Dawson. Dawson might have been an old man but his useless layabout son took over the family business. Dawson was once a Templar Knight but noone but him and myself knew of it. After he retired and began to grey he stopped hunting bad wizards and demons and started to guard politicians and socialites. His firm handled various types of booking agents from Actors to Bodyguards and Stuntmen, pretty much everything having to do with hollywood but sometimes Dawson would hand me special files that were done in blue, these were Supernatural cases. Events fed to him through some means, the list of contacts Dawson has is something I never wanted to get into, in this such case I got fed one of these files. "McCourt, get your ass in here." Said the burly grey haired african-american man as he opened the door to see me chatting with the cute little blonde at the reception desk, her name is Stacie by the way. I came in and he smiled that kind of smile you'd see on an english bulldog. "McCourt, ive got two pieces of work for you. Both are blue files but one is a walk in the park and the second is a trip through hell." He said with a emotionless tone. I just smiled and said "Which one pays better?" Dawson wasn't happy with the snarky remark so he just tossed me the 'Trip Through Hell' file. He stood up and closed the door as I opened the file and skimmed it. "The client is a woman by the name of Lenore Dupree, also known as Susan Rhodes. The actress, recently she's been plagued by a Poltergeist, since its something dead I naturally called you first." He explained as I looked over the file, It had a floorplan of her house and the pictures of various items like tables and chairs thrown about and shattered, writing on the wall in blood and pictures of various cuts in the shape of runes on peoples skin. All trade marks of a class five Geist. "Blood writing, vandalism and runing. All trademarks of a Poltergeist infestation." He added as I read, but then he sat down and leaned in closer like he wanted to say something especially strange and secret. "The strangest thing these things only happen during the New Moon." These words put me off the job for a second by made me very interested. I thought for a long hard moment then decided to take it since I needed the money and I was bored mostly, nothing to shake up a stale life like a exorcism of a poltergeist. I grabbed the file and the check for half the payment per my rules of half up front and half on completion. When I left the first thing I did was go out to her estate in beverly hills, when I got there this slab of muscle and meat stopped me, he wore a cheap black polyester suit and gawdy tie with crappy sunglasses. "Miss Rhodes does not take walk-ins or autographs at home sir." He said impassively. I just smiled and pulled out my laminate piece of parchment. A nice little item I recovered from a troll stash under the brooklyn bridge on a past job. It looks like anything the viewer wants to see or the holder wants them to see, downside is anyone that knows of this special parchment knows what it is and to them it just looks like parchment. For this guy I wanted him to see my Dawson Security Consultant I.D. The security guard looked it over and then waved me in. As I got to the house I could hear the music blasting loudly and I noticed she was throwing a pool party. The assortment of children and the clown told me it was a childs birthday party. I walked inside and the place was full of people, the adults mostly as the children were all outside and these people were all talking to one another. The room was fairly loud and active but I looked around and finally asked one of the women next to the door talking with other women, for some reason they all had champagne glasses and cocktail dresses. The two blondes and the brunette which were in their early thirties looked at me oddly but the brunette winked at me when her friends weren't looking. "Can you tell me who is Susan Rhodes?" I asked while trying to keep my place in the overly crowded home filled with rich and snotty people. The blonde to my right just smiled and pointed to the woman wearing a red sun dress and sunglasses by the kitchen table. I waved her over and showed her my 'badge', she came with me into the back room where we could be alone to chat. "So Dawson told me of you, said you specialize in these things..." I smiled and couldn't help but think that Dawson set me up for this. "Sort of, what can you tell me of encounters." I asked, she went on to tell me about how it always happens during the new moon and it seems that they target her specifically but whenever she brings a man home that she had interest in the ghost would scare him off. I thought pretty heavily on this, it sounded like it was a jealous ghost or a dead husband but her ex-husband was alive. "Have you ever had any dead boyfriends?" I asked and she looked at me appallingly like I just kicked a box full of kittens into a dog kennel. Then she looked at me and glared for a minute as if she was trying to make my brain explode by pure thought. "No but what are you, some kind of psychic or something?" I just smiled and said "Sort of." I decided that I'd come back tommorow and left, I got a burger on the way home and when I arrived back at my loft the house was trashed, my furniture was thrown around and every paper and file I had was strewn across the room. Someone searched my house. Rico laid on my bed undisturbed and still watching T.V. like it never happened. I rolled my eyes and took off my jacket, spending the next four hours fixing my place. Rico now more interested in me then MTV began following me as I worked. "Some guard cat you are, your four thousand years old and yet all you do is sit on my bed and do nothing." With that Rico yawned and then spoke. "I may be thousands of years old Liam but I know more about the supernatural world then you ever will. So whats the case that brought in the knights?" He explained in a very thick egyptian accent. See my cat is actually possessed by an ancient egyptian pharoh that bound himself to the body of a cat to escape execution by his subjects, but when it came to supernatural things he was a library that on occassion coughed up hairballs, really powerful magical hairballs that have a bad habit of exploding like nitro glycerin that had just been smashed with a hammer. I just laughed but then the thought donned on me. I explained all I knew and Rico just absorbed it. "Well, this is a powerful geist but I wouldn't look for an external source, poltergeists are spawned from children on the verge of puberty lashing out, specially if they have supernatural abilities. Class Fives mean they have a lot of anger towards the intended target." Rico said expertly and then yawned, his large fangs exposed to look like swords. I thought pretty heavily on that and then decided sleep was better so I crashed. As I slept I kept having dreams about a young boy dressed up like beaver cleaver from that old television show as he played at a park while loud adult voices could be heard in the house behind him. I awoke when the kid started screaming in anger at the house but no noise came through. Rico just sat in my chair and swished his tail. "You're weird." The cat said as he jumped off the chair and strolled into the bathroom to his food dish. I couldn't help bu say "That statement coming from a cat that talks is more than alittle ironic!" As I wiped the sweat from my body, looking around I realized it was daylight so I got ready and went over to the clients house. As I got there Susan was freaking out and cops were everywhere, Right about now I should probably tell you that most of the police force likes me when I recovered about four million dollars worth of cocaine that had been stolen from their evidence but there was this one cop, Detective Sam Lenville, a tall redheaded woman that was all by the book. She was under the impression I was in on the caper but I never was. Just so happens she was working this case so It made a tough job even tougher. As I approached Detective Lenville stopped me and smiled, for an outright *censored* she had beautiful eyes I will admit. "Mr. McCourt, I remember our last conversation. You had just gotten a hefty paycheck for stealing from us?" I just smiled and shrugged. "Prove it and I'll sign that paycheck over to you..." I flashed my badge and walked inside with total impunity when she realized I was the Security Consultant that had been floating around the investigation. Susan pulled me into the bedroom, tears in her eyes and her face red from crying. "Mr. McCourt look my son is missing and I can't find him anywhere!" She explained desperately. She told me that she had been running her lines with her friend and looked over to see the boy sitting on the couch playing, Oh yeah I forgot. The boy is named Trent and he's about seven. Blonde hair like his mom and hes small for his age. But when she had looked back a few minutes later he was gone. I told her to take me to the room she last saw him in and she did, we cleared out the cops and i told her to leave and then locked the door. I reached into my pocket and pulled out Lucky, my silver and ivory zippo that had a shamrock painted on it and firmly grasped it in my hand and concentrated. The room turned black and sitting on the floor in front of me was Trent, sitting next to him was the boy in my dream and they were talking but I couldn't understand them. The other boy placed his hand on Trents shoulder and pointed up then they vanished and I was thrown back into Mundus. When I awoke with a migraine like a circus pounding in my head i realized the pounding was the cops at the door. I opened it and was greeted by a .357 revolver to my face. All I could say to the little surprise from Detective Lenville was "Honey I'm home?" In probably the snarkiest sarcastic tone I had. She turned be around and placed me in hand-cuffs and read my Mirandas. I didn't try to do anything I needed time to think on what I had saw but then as they walked me towards the door it hit me. I quickly phased the cuffs off my hand and made a break for the back room, Sam right behind me but she was too slow cause when I got in there I looked up and saw the hatch. There was a attic over the room she had been practicing in. I grabbed the fireplace poker and pushed it open and just as they tackled me Trents voice could be heard. "Mom!" Much to Lenville's amazement Trent stuck his head through the hole and a pair of uniformed officers helped him down. Much to say my little stunt landed me 24 in the local jail but I needed the time to think anyway. While sitting next to a fat guy named Bubba and a drunk african-american guy named Charlie I pondered the Boy and the poltergeist and my dream. After getting nowhere I was released and had to catch the bus home. On the bus I saw a woman yelling at her son for being bad and the look on his face matched that of Trent in my little vision at the clients house. It hit me like a ton of bricks and when I finally got to her place I kicked in the door, as I did a chair whipped at me and all was black. For the record, that is the seventh time i've been knocked out in my many years of living. When I awoke it was nightfall and the house was torn apart, Susan was bound by extension cord and Trent was crying on the floor. Next to him stood the glowing figure of the boy I saw in my dream. Fighting off the headache I realized what the boy really was. "Hello Marcus..." I said to the boy, the boy abruptly turned and glared at me. "Liam McCourt, last I saw of you you had killed me!" Marcus Blacke was a powerful wizard, he went rogue and became a serial killer by using accidents. I hunted him down and he died in an accidental fall off a balcony. I laughed when I realized he wasn't just targeting this boys mom but he was targeting me when I found my house trashed, he tipped off the Wardens and they just sent me a 'stay the hell out of the way' party but without booze and women they just trashed my house like any decent party, which is why I had none. That and it's kinda hard to explain a talking cat to a room full of normal people. 'So Marcus, you trapped your spirit back into your childhood as a way to keep from passing on?" I told him, See when you die a violent death due to external influences, aka Suicide, Accidental or Murder. Known as S.A.M. by most. You have to go through a series of personal trials as a spirit before you can pass on, most complete these as they come to terms with things in their life that they regretted but some spirits hold onto this and regress into Geists. Geists come in six classifications, one through six. One being the average spirit. Mostly harmless little interaction with Mundus, then there are Fives and Sixes, Fives are powerful poltergeists that are very capable of interacting with Mundus but mostly harmless then there is Sixes. Sixes are spirits so malevolent that they are capable and most of the time will injure or even kill the living. "You performed these things during the New Moon because that is the best time to draw energy from the living, you masked them as Poltergeist modus operandi so the investigator would see them as accidents or explainable. But you failed in one regard. You were doing things Sixes do not Fives that is why the Wardens took interest and that brought in me...which was the last thing you wanted wasn't it?" I said as I waited for the inevitable array of monologging that these dark wizards love to do. Marcus smiled "Yes I did, very clever but you were the only one to ever best me. You Half-Dead are just another obstruction in my path to mortality again." With that Marcus just laughed, Trent cried harder trying to waken his mother. "Listen to me Trent, you have to stand up to him. He's formed a link with you and the more you fear him the more powerful he becomes!" Trent looked up at me and then nodded. Marcus laughed harder as his body slowly began to materialize and finally he became solid. "Now crybaby to deal with you" Marcus said as he turned only to take a fist to the cheek that sent him flying, a large door materialized and opened, inside it was a swirling black vortex that sucked Marcus inside and closed, it then vanished and Susan awoke. Relieved this was over I helped her up. She went on to ask what happened and I told her she passed out from stress and That I solved the poltergeist problem. When I left with the second check I headed for the bar and a very tall glass of scotch. I will admit in closing this little journal entry that Susan had a nice ass...

My name is Liam McCourt, I have a...special talent. I can speak to the dead where as most people can't. No I'm not some freaky fake psychic but in reality I am sort of Psychic. In 1863 I died, I was a soldier in the St. Patricks Brigade during the civil war but the real thing you should know that is right now while you read this there are creatures that look and talk like humans but they aren't. There are certainly things that go bump in the night boys and girls and they all have plans for everyone. Wizards, vampires, werewolves and faeries plus countless others are present and real. Not like you see in crappy horror films or play as in a game of dungeons and dragons but there is a funny story to that but i'll get to that another time. See, during the war I...sort of misplaced my soul. I had brokered a deal with The Dark One, I know sounds corny but I made the deal, i lost my sole in exchange for a few powers and abilities that i'd need to help save my family. In the end, my family died and I lost my soul so you can guess who got the better end of that deal. Now I live in Los Angeles, trust me folks it's not all glamour. Mostly I just drift from job to job working as...whatever because I've learned a variety of skills. Let's just say when you have lived as long as I have you find yourself with a plethora of abilities but none so much as a rather interesting ability as Phasing. See since I don't have a soul I don't technically exist in this plane of existence but I do, breaks every law in the rulebook and more then not astounds most Theologists and Wizards. I once had a friend explain it all to me but I fell asleep so i'll give you the abridged version. I am dead, but I am also alive being so I have the ability to enter Mundus, which is the plane of existence that you and your mother live on, and Terminus; the plane that your great great great grandmother live on. But here's the thing, unlike grandma I can come back to Mundus anytime I want but it does have side effects, when the vomiting and migraines stop I'm normal but in the plane of Terminus i can interact with things in Mundus. Real freaking useful when I lock myself out of my house. Now your asking "hell yes that is what I want! Fort Knox here I come." Firstly, i'm not into doing that, because i'm different i'm on every paranormal watchlist there is, just being what I am has made me enemies. Secondly, I've done the whole Fort Knox thing, nothing there... But needless to say I also have other abilities, Firstly I can read minds...comes in useful but it doesn't seem to work on faeries never could figure out why...Secondly I can talk with the dead, yeah I admit i've used it for seances and palm readings in the past, let me tell you in the forties I made a...oh yeah keep it PG. Well despite taking money from rich widows and socialites. It does give me a few unique perks, mostly what I really do is act as a supernatural bodyguard. Sometimes I even get 'mundane' bodyguard jobs. Regardless of my brief tell-all about myself you came to read about an adventure so here it is, New Moon Blues.

It wasn't long before he had scaled the side of the Tower Of Kirkwall and made his way into the Ambassadors level. Here were the embassy's of all the recognized factions and here was the Elven Ambassador, ironically it was a human named Gelt Harlowe. He had gotten this position for the perks and it gave him the power he needed to perform certain black back alley duties for much more powerful people. Everyone knew he was as bent as a corkscrew but noone could pin it on him. He dug his climbing hook into the notch and glanced through the window, noone inside but he knew that since he watched the Ambassador leave earlier. He pulled the dagger free from its sheath at his lower back and used it while holding on with his other to pop the lock on the window and he rocked back and forth and he levered himself inside and landed quietly on the stone floor. He immediately glanced around the room, a large heating crystal sat in the center of the room aswell as pottery and other valuable items littered the room in special spots like shelves and on top of stands. A valuable collection of dwarven artifacts and Qunari Crystals. Sitting on the wall was a oddly placed framed painting of the Ambassador wielding a large blade and fighting off a horde of darkspawn during the battle of Lothering. "Seriously, who would be that foolish to hide a safe behind a painting of themselves?" In reality he was never there, during the Darkspawn attack on Lothering he was in Denerim. Wind knew this because the Amaranthinian Apple, one of ten that are known to exist sat on a pedestal nearby and that was auctioned off for fifty thousand sovereigns in Denerim during the attack at Lothering. After close inspection he found the latch and the frame which turned out to be a door to reveal the safe. Quickly and almost effortlessly he cracked the safe and opened it to find a series of letters from a man named L and it bore the seal of the Crimson Oars mercenary band. The letters spoke of contracts that had been completed and other various activities but these all looked to be in order as Ambassador Harlowe was known for using mercenary companies to complete his goals and those of much wealthier people. He dug deeper into the safe but all the papers he saw were legit but as he rummaged he thumped the back of the safe and it made a thick hollow sound like the side of a empty wooden box. He pushed on it and it spun up to show it was on a hinge and there was a strange crystal like device surrounded by what looked to be dwarven metal, also inside were more letters from L but these talked of the requested shipments being seized at the port. Wind knew that if he was to reveal this he needed the partners to the letters, luckily he found a transcript showing the location of the warehouse. As he shut the panel and made sure everything was in place a tall man wearing a white robe entered and drew his sword. "Thief! Thief! Guards!" Yelled the man and then he charged, Wind drew one of his daggers and parried the strike, as the stranger stumbled forward Wind let out a sharp kick that struck the man in the face and put him out cold. he heard the familiar clanking of plate boots and he could tell it was the two door guards at the end of the hall. Wind locked in a pair of bolts that were coated in the venom of the Sand-Drake, a powerful paralytic poison. The guards burst into the room and he fired his arm-mounted crossbow, both bolts hit home into the chest of the guards and they both toppled over stiff like wooden planks. By the time the he got to the window the white-robed man had awoken and with a face of pure hate he flung a spell at the intruder. The wall of kinetic energy knocked out the window and the wall sending it careening down the side of the tower towards the earth. Wind took a flat run for the opening and fashioned his arm-bow with the grapple bolt and tied the rope around his waist. Just as a Frost Whip spell lashed out at his feet he dove through the hole. As he dove out he turned around and raised up his fist and extended his middle finger at the mage as he fell. Smiling at his little act of defiance Wind turned over and he flung out his cloak and his rapid descent abruptly changed to a slow gliding fall. Just as he got to the end of the enchantments period of life and fired the bolt and it pierced the side of the tower just as the enchantment let up and he started falling but this time he wouldn't fall to his death but the end ride was scary enough as he swung wild towards the side of the tower. He stopped himself with his feet and looked down, he was maybe eight feet off the ground so he unlatched himself and flew down. He looked up to see three templar guards running after him, Wind took off at a run and launched off a merchants table and vaulted over the small dividing wall and vanishing over the side.

After the events ive got planned hes going to need to go on the expedition. Trust me, this will be interesting. Im having a hardtime not writing a huge post to cover all of it but that would take about a full day in RP terms

Gonna have to rush the connection between the group and the Crimson Oars so for a few long posts I wont be totally present so just bare with me lol

Wind decided it was time to head to bed and he headed upstairs and crawled into bed next to the girl, as he pulled the blankets up he noticed she wasn't wearing anything but those blankets and he beckoned him over with a smile and as he slipped in a warm hug and a thank you kiss. They spent the rest of the night together, enjoying each others company multiple times. Wind awoke the next morning to find her sitting upright and wrapped in the bearskin blanket that acted as the second blanket on the bed. Wind arose from the bed to find his jerkin and gear sitting on the table and when he came into the light she saw his array of tattoos, mostly those of Antivan make but one on his neck interested her as it was the Dalish symbol for Wind that was combined with the symbol for Cursed. "What is your name?" She asked, Wind just smiled and stretched. "That is a long story but call me Wind..." He said as he poured a bowl of fresh water and rubbed down his hands and washed his face. The girl smiled and stood, he thought what was her angle in these questions. "Why do they call you Wind?" she asked as she moved closer to him. A ping of caution ran up his spine but soon settled when she stopped. He replied by saying "I move like the wind, silently and gracefully but I strike like a storm, quickly and effectively." She took his words in and smiled "Do you have a real name?" She asked curiously. "Just Wind miss." He said as he washed his neck and rubbed down his bare chest. "I'm Selean, I'm an...assistant to the ambassador to the Dalish clans living outside Kirkwall." she said with a pause, Wind picked up on her unwillingness to tell him her real position but he decided not to push it. "So why did you save me?" She asked, Wind could tell she was wanting to ask him something but wanted to work her way towards it. "Those men are known for not treating women very well, specially elven women..." He explained as he washed his hair. She sat back down on the bed as she realized something. He looked at her curiously and when he finished washing grabbed his gear and set them on the table near the window, a pair of exquisite antivan crow-blades and various other weapons and tools. She watched as she began sharpening his daggers and he general lack of speech about himself. She remembered him being cocky and brash and now he's calm and reserved. He seemed strange but intriguing to her and she wondered what type of man he was. She had known many men in her life, brutish to sensitive men men who could barely compare to the leavings of a pig and others that she had loved at one time but he...he was different. "So your some kind of assassin right?" She asked, noticing his daggers and noticing the symbol of the House Of Crows tattooed on his forearm. The only tattoo he had that connected him to the infamous guild of assassins. Wind thought for a moment then said "Was, sometimes I am again but I'm sorta not aswell..." as he sheathed one of his daggers after he'd finished with it and drew another blade. Selean smiled and looked at him curiously. "Are you always this aloof Mr. Wind?" Wind chuckled and put the blade away. "Only when it comes to my history or my name..." He said with a quick smile, Selean admitted to herself that he was attractive but she didn't really know him but what made her curious was the fact that he wouldn't tell her his real name. She decided that it was something she wanted to know more about. "So why are you not telling me your real name..." she asked as he sat back in his chair drinking tea. It was then she realized what his name was, the dalish word for Wind was Gal and the word for Cursed was Laev as she realized this but Gal was common for a dalish man to be named but why did he not want to use his real name she thought. Wind broke her from her thoughts when he asked "Why were those men after you..." As he cleaned his daggers. Selean thought for a moment then realized why they followed her into the alley. She went on to explain that the Ambassador got word that Dwarven and Dalish artifacts were uncovered in Ferelden that linked them to the Kirkwall tribe, she went down there to witness the Crimson Oar mercenaries offloading the ship after butchering the crew. She followed them and found they stashed the cargo in a warehouse on the otherside of Low Town. Wind sat and digested the story, realizing the chance encounter and the bar fight were only a piece of the puzzle. He picked up his gear and strapped on his leather jerkin. "What was in those crates?" he asked as he hooked on his rig. She thought for a moment and then said "I don't know, only the ambassador knew the exact details of what was in them." He decided after he visited the Ambassadors office he was going to see where this warehouse was. He figured the ambassador and the mercenaries were connected but he needed proof. He threw on his cloak and kissed her deeply just before he slipped out the window and took a run to the edge and flipped off. "He really does move like the Wind." She thought as he vanished from her view.

Too true, I like the idea but it is missing something...I'll think of something.

Wind leaped over the rampart of the walled estate, he watched closely as the guard that walked the walls was silenced by his partner. The guard went down quietly and effectively. He had admired Lorenzo for his skill with a dagger. Wind moved along the the path quietly as he made for the tower at the end of the wall. The guard inside wore the surcoat of Nazim, a recently defeated Trade Prince. The efforts of the Trade Princes to defeat one another was never the concern of Wind but he knew that they paid well for their executioners and assassins. Wind flicked his hand and a throwing knife imbedded itself in the guards throat and he dropped with a loud clatter. Wind ducked into the shadows and waited. The guard in the second room came through the door and Wind drove the dagger deep into the mans chest and he turned the blade and ripped it free. The unsuspecting guard looked down and collapsed. Wind dove out the window and swung himself using the wooden frame of the window up to the roof and moved along the covered part of the wall to the main estate, the three story estate was lightly guarded but he knew the interior was heavily covered. Lorenzo was heading to deal with his target, the General that defected to Nazim's side during the conflict. The Crows have sent two of their top assassins and both have come back dead, that is why they sent Wind and Lorenzo, this was a matter of revenge. The call of vendetta had to be answered. Wind bare hand climbed the wall and came to a window on the second floor. He peered through to see a group of women bathing, most of them wearing veils over their faces. He counted four women total and two guards, the room was lit by a fireplace and a pot of boiling water over it. "Too bad I don't have an extra little while, a man could be very well entertained in there.." He thought as he used his dagger to jiggle the lock and open the window. As he came through he flung a knife at the pot and it turned over extinguishing the fireplace and bringing total darkness to the room. The room was filled with screams of alarm and the moonlight shown through the windows, but Wind was a master at moving in the shadow. "Havi! you there?" One of the guards called out, unsheathing his scimitar. he heard a moan and a loud thump come from the area he last saw Havi and he approached, as he walked in total darkness he spread out his hands and used them to find his way. He nearly tripped when he ran into a large lump of flesh on the floor and he reached down, setting his scimitar aside to find it was Havi's face. Blood pooled around the floor and across his chest as it flowed from what was his neck. The guard stood as he heard the door open and close and he bolted for the door, scaring the harem girls as he collided with the extremely large door and pounded on it. Only to find it was locked and the assassin was heading for Nazim's room. Wind thought that using the guard Havi's scimitar to lock his friend and the women in the other room was quite ingenious but now came his one hundredth assassination, a feat few assassins get. As he entered the room a gout of fire filled the doorway and Wind barely dodged the lethal flame, he grabbed the small black orb hanging from his bandolier and smacked it on the ground and the room nearly instantly filled with black smoke and Wind faded into the darkness. Nazim's heart beat like a war drum when the assassin walked around his spell and then the room went black. "you 'ave come for meh' 'ave you not throat-slitter!" Yelled Nazim as he scanned the thick black smoke, he noticed the smoke was disturbed a few feet in front of him and launched a fireball that struck the bed and it instantly ignited. He felt a sharp slash across his back as the assassin ran behind him and slashed him, his blade mere inches from his spine. Nazim flung a fireball in that direction in retaliation but to no avail. Nazim looked around and noticed the smoke was fading but as soon as it faded enough to get a clear view he felt the hard cold steel of a blade at his throat. Wind could smell the stench of the Trade Prince, he held his dagger to the mages throat and smiled. "The Antivan Crows send their regards!" But just as Wind sank his dagger into the mages flesh he burst into a mist of blood, the room was filled with a sinister laugh and the mage appeared in front of him holding two of the finest Antivan Crow-Blades. "So Throat-Slitter you come for Nazim, you think your petty blades are a match for the might of blood magic!" Said Nazim forcefully, Wind leveled his arm-mounted crossbow at Nazim and fired, the bolt struck him in the chest. Shocked at first but he just smiled and pulled the bolt free and tossed it aside. "Now I will teach you true POWER!" Nazim yelled as he flung a fireball at Wind, Wind dove aside as the fireball passed through the window behind them and lit up the night. Wind flung a pair of shuriken that hit home and dug into the blood mages chest, the mage roared in anger and gathered flames at his fingertips but stopped, and started gasping for air. His dark skin turning white and his eyes rolled into the back of his head as he fought like a demon for air. Wind smiled and sheathed his blades. Calmly walking up to the blood mage. "That mi' amigo is the poison of La Serpenta Cacciatore. The Hunter-Snake, it stops your lungs from taking in air and lets you suffocate to death. Nasty stuff, hard to process but a valuable tool in my trade." Wind said as he smiled and watched Nazim finally expire. Lorenzo burst in just as Nazim struck the floor and smiled. "Come Compadre we must leave." He said as he glanced down at Nazim's body and they fled the estate.

my thinking is there is a connection between the girl and the mercenary group and maybe Winds past, but if i go on the expedition I think it would be interesting to have the Crimson Oars pursue him.

I had originally created this character during my highschool creative writing class as a way to practice my writing. I had eventually lost my mind in writing and ended up writing near two dozen stories and just fell in love with writing. I did not submit any of these stories to my teacher of course I wasn't that stupid lol But i wrote myself during that time and even now into the character. I chose the elf because i was short and slender back then, and I wasn't very creative so I just stole my physical shape to solve that part of the character process. I participated in school sports like soccer quite heavily and I practiced parkour which is why there is a heavy element of parkour in the characters fighting style. I had a friend of mine who takes extreme interest in nearly everything I write about dragon-age because hes a hardcore fanatic and he has taken special interest in Wind. As so when I debuted the character to the world in the RP Age Of The Dragon he immediately called me and started telling me everything I would need to know about elves, assassins and antiva because that's the kind of pain in my arse he can be. Mind you this bit will reveal things about the character he would never reveal in the RP so consider this a individual storyline that leads up to the RP. Mostly covering his time in The Crows and his adventures abroad and in Kirkwall. So for your reading pleasure I give you The Wind At The Hanged Man.

im sorta lost as to where this RP is going, so i'm just gonna skirt the storyline until I can get a grasp of what is going to happen. Was thinking of taking this Crimson Oar thing alittle further.

Wind applauded the strange man, he bent over and took the apple off the floor and rubbed it off on his leather jacket as he leaned against the frame of the door to the backrooms. He took a bite and watched the stranger. "Not many men will jump in to aid a random person, let alone an elf..." Wind had met quite a lot of stigma in Kirkwall and many places in his travels, the alienage in Denerim was one of the worst hes seen during his time abroad. "But then again, I've always believed why people hate us elves so much is because they can't have pointy ears..." He said with a cocky smile. The Mercenary he had taken down a second ago spat up blood and looked up. "Frell you Knife-" He said defiantly just before Wind silenced him with his foot as he walked by, the strike was loud enough to be heard across the tavern and it put the mercenary out. Wind smiled and approached the Stranger. He picked up another apple and tossed it towards the Stranger, he scanned the room to catch eyes with a young looking girl with bright red hair. "Mi' amore." He said to himself in Antivan.

Wind awoke as the dog attacked the leader, a stranger hopped into the fight and engaged the merc he had haymakered earlier, the last mercenary still gripped onto him but Wind had a mind to change that. With a quick push off the ground Wind grabbed the mercs wrist and twisted as he flipped back and drove both heels into the mans face that sent him falling, Wind pushed off the merc as he fell and landed deftly on his feet, a pair of knives in his hand as if they just appeared there. "I'm sorry amigo but i prefer the embrace of the fairer sex..." Snipped Wind with a cocky attitude. He glanced over to see the third mercenary draw his knife as the stranger charged him, Wind whipped a shuriken that struck the man in the hand as he drew the blade. He jerked his hand aside and dropped the blade just as the Stranger was upon him.

since im new to this RP i just wanna know where everyone is so could you please reply to this with your charecters location so im not blundering my way through and ruining everything. Wind: Kirkwall, Low-Town District at The Hanged Man

A light scratching noise awoke Wind, the door opened slightly and he sprang up, the edge of one of his daggers to the throat of the intruder. A young woman froze in fright as Wind walked around the corner and realized it was Sarah the waitress. He removed the blade and sheathed it expertly. "Thank you ser, A man was looking for you. One of the Crimson Oars mercenaries. They are downstairs." She explained and then vanished behind the door. Wind sighed and took off his cloak and hood to reveal personalized leather armor and his various tools of the trade attached to bandoliers. Wind looked over his shoulder at the sleeping girl and stepped through. In the front room three men stood, one wielding an axe and the others having swords on their hips. Wind smiled and walked closer. The lead man glared at him. "Ye' killed 'tree of meh' men!" Yelled the leader, the other two drew their blades. Wind smiled wider and picked up an apple from a nearby bowl and took a large bite out of it, the crunch of the apple filling the now quiet room. He chewed and watched the men intently. "Why does it matter to you amigo? They tried to harm a young girl and I stopped them?" Replied Wind, he took another bite of the juicy apple. The leader festered with anger at the elves defiance. "We wull' make yu' pay knife-ear! noone messes wit' teh' crimson whurrs'!" Yelled the human in his heavily accented voice. Wind just broke into laughter at the threat. "Buddy, with your accent you shouldn't be saying that..." Replied Wind between laughs. The leader growled in anger and charged Wind, Wind smiled and whipped the apple into the lead guys face and gave a sharp heel-kick to the mans groin that doubled him over. The second mercenary swiped at him with his sword and it grazed the top of Winds hair just as he managed to duck, Wind countered with a sharp fist to the mans solar plexus that sent him reeling and gasping for air. The third sell-sword thrusted his sword, Wind sidestepped the attack and haymakered the raider in the face with the back of his knuckles. The bandit dropped his sword and as Wind turned he flung a throwing knife into the mans foot that pinned him to the floor just as the second bandit now recovered bashed Wind across the face with the hilt of his blade. "Hold 'im down!" Yelled the first guy, one hand on his groin the other holding his eye, The bulky mercenary restrained the Elf as the leader pounded his meaty fists into Winds ribs. Each strike felt like a kick from a mule and it wasn't long before Wind fell into blackness.

Wind leaped off the roof to fly like a crow from rooftop to rooftop his cloak spreading like massive wings, something he enjoyed at night was these runs around the roofs of the alienage. He landed and rolled on the roof of The Hanged Man and slid down onto the sign where he came to rest. The quiet silence of the night air was shattered by a womans scream and with that Wind took off like his namesake. Bounding around the rooftops like a thief on a mission he came to a stop over an alley. There he saw three humans and a young elf woman. She was attractive, young maybe only twenty winters and she had dalish tattoos aswell as sleek red hair and bright blue eyes. "Well well well, she is a pretty thing indeed." Wind thought as he planned out his move. "Hey Bruno, we got ourselves a pretty little knife-ear here? Who wants the first turn?" Said the leader as he clung on to the wide eyed girl. The group of would be ravishers all laughed, he could smell the booze on them, but as he watched he saw three very fat gold pouches and decided to investigate them aswell as the woman. carefully he lowered himself onto a window frame and then leapt across to the opposite side of the alley, as he flew he pulled his twin crow daggers from his back and sunk them into the wall. "Shes got such a pretty face, too bad were gonna change that." The one called Bruno joked with the others, they all continued laughing until Bruno abruptly stopped laughing as Wind dropped down, both blades sliding effortlessly into his flesh and slicing bone. Bruno was down for the count. "Now its not kind to 'te fair woman to hurt her so...I suggest my friends that you leave her." Said the cloaked and hooded figure. He inversed his grip on his daggers for the close order fight he knows will happen. "You don't tell us what to do elf!" Yelled the first human as he drew his sword and charged, the alley was tight here and Wind knew this, Wind took a run at the human but jumped and ran along the wall, his blade slicing the humans throat as he passed and the robber gurgled loudly as he choked on his own blood and finally toppled over and expired. Wind smiled but under his hood you could not see anything but his smile. The last human aimed his crossbow at Wind, his body shaking with fear. The woman sat cowering in the corner her ankle was bright red and most likely sprained and Wind knew he had two seconds before the human would turn that crossbow on her. "Stop! Don't move or I'll shoot!" Barked the human as he aimed the crossbow at him. Wind just laughed and took another step and with that a familiar clack of a bowstring and the bolt came flying at Winds face, Wind smirked and reached up to snatch the arrow out of the air. He furled his cloak and drew a large hand-bow and racked the bolt into the slide and fired, the bolt piercing the human in the eye and he dropped like a stone. Wind approached the panicking girl and drew back his hood to reveal a handsome elven face, a dalish tattoo for Wind on his cheek he smiled. "Be calm senora, I am 'ere to help you..." He said in a low soothing voice as he offered her his hand. She took it sheepishly and he lifted her up into his arms. She looked deeply into his mismatched eyes and spoke to him in dalish. "You are blessed with the gift of the Wind do you know that?" She asked him. After he gathered the coin pouches Wind thought some on what she had said and just laughed it off. "Senora I am only an elf, with a particular set of skills and one of them happens to be saving fine damsels in distress.." He said smoothly as he held her. She smiled and blushed heavily. "I see and you are a charmer as well, but you bear dalish markings yet you speak like an antivan? Why is that so?" She asked as they walked through the empty streets of Low Town. Wind was curious as to why she was so interested but he just smiled and answered. "My mother was Dalish, my father Antivan. She said I would be as fast and fluid as the Wind so she gave me the tattoo when I was just a boy. She died a short time later and I joined The Crows." The woman thought hard on this and then buried her head in his shoulder and quietly went to sleep. By daybreak they arrived at The Hanged Man, Wind's favored haunt and home. The Old Bartender let him rent a room in the back because he had helped run out a gang of mercenaries that were causing too much trouble for the old man and as his reward he had a rent free room. He kicked the door open and stepped through, the place was lively and full of talk of the town and shady deals which is why he loved it there. Sitting in his favored place was Varric, his giant crossbow sitting next to him. Varric saw Wind and the girl enter and he just smiled. "Wind one of these days your carousing with women will kill you..." He said with a laugh as Wind walked by. Wind smiled and replied "Only after your drinking kills you mi' amigo." Wind gently sat the young girl down on his bed and placed the blanket over her. He plopped down in his favored chair that was behind the only door in and facing the only window and drew one of his blades and quietly drifted off to sleep.

Name: Wind Race: Elf Gender: Male Age: 27 Class: Rogue/Assassin Occupation: Adventurer/Mercenary Place of Origin: Antiva Appearance: Young with slick long black hair and a green and blue eye. Armor/Clothing: Leather Jacket with extra pockets and bandoliers for various tools of his trade. Weapon: Twin daggers and throwing daggers. Uses a special crossbow with poison tipped bolts. The crossbow was built to be like a gauntlet. Personality: Quick of tongue and fast with his blades, Wind is known for his shifting attitude, a former Antivan assassin but he left the Crows and took to the trade of being a mercenary and adventurer, always looking for the next bit of treasure lost in a cave or the soft touch of a woman. Very social and likeable, can often be found lounging in The Hanged Man, there usually waiting for a contract or some adventure he can devote himself too. He doesn't often ally himself with the rich and powerful unless he sees an opportunity to make loads of gold, otherwise hes known for having a weakspot for the under-dog and downtrodden. History: A former Antivan assassin, he grew up in the Crows, he left after he completed his goal of one thousand assassinations. he decided to do his own thing, as he put it "Kill whom I wish and bed whom I wish" the small little elf was renowned in Kirkwall for his famous acts of acrobatics and earned the name Wind because he was almost uncatchable by the Kirkwall guard. Spending most of his time in Low-town when not on a job or visiting the wife of a rich merchant. Taking his freedom seriously he found a friend in Varric Tethras and often ran special jobs for him. Varric used to joke that half the Tethra's merchant prowess was because of Varrics cunning business sense and Winds skill with a blade. Setting himself up as a man that if you have a problem, you asked for The Wind At The Hanged Man to anyone in Low Town and they will send you to your aid.