Factions, Families, Clans, and Empires
Pariah has a hard, lined face with predominantly Anglo-Saxon features, a rounded chin and grey eyes. His beard and scraggly, shoulder-length hair are a dirty brownish-blonde, and his skin has healthy color, even though it is rather dirty. A curvy scar, long since healed, runs over his left eye and down his cheek.
He has a light, lanky frame, with long arms and legs, but is well-muscled for a person his size. He stands at 6 feet tall, even, and weighs around 135 pounds (actually he weighs 138). In terms of clothing, he wears a white cotton shirt with a high collar beneath a red puffy-sleeved shirt, which is in turn worn under a rather ornate brown jerkin. He wears olive breeches with brown boots. In terms of equipment storage, he has a large leather belt with various loops for scrolls, tubes, bottles, bags, et cetera, along with two scabbards for his swords. He also wears a cloth bandolier, in which are hidden more gadgets, a holster for his throwing knife, a quiver for arrows and a holster for his flintlock pistol (if applicable).
Pariah is sarcastic, abrasive and narcissistic. People also find him nebulous and detatched, rarely ever grounded to reality - instead favoring his own illusions while not working. This has given him a flippant demeanor that people find annoying and abrasive when he isn't working. Which is exactly what he wants. On the job, Pariah is laser-focused, not afraid to resort to physically harming his own team-mates because they 'pissed him off'.
Inwardly, Pariah despises most people. Himself and his largest benefactors are the only people in the world he actually attaches to, and even then he only truly attaches to himself - he would gladly kill his benefactors if someone offered him a high enough price.
Pariah is heavily into vices. Booze, exotic substances, sins of the flesh - you name it, he's done it, and probaly enjoyed it. He also loves getting the gold to perform such acts.
In short: He's an asshole who loves money and kills whatever you point him at, provided you pay him enough.
- One sharpened, balanced skinning knife. It can be used for its aforementioned purpose, or throwing, or up-close assassinations.
- Two scimitars. They are heavily ornamented and have magical runes cast into the surface. When questioned about the runes, Pariah won't admit their true purpose - they're there to look impressive, and really do nothing.
- One flintlock pistol. An extremely rare piece of high technology that Pariah cherishes above many of his belongings.
- Smoke bombs, nail bombs, spike traps, bear traps and an assortment of other nasty devices he uses to inflict pain on his opponents.
- Magic scrolls used for low-tier invisibility and unlocking spells. Pariah needs the scrolls because he has no ability to channel magic from memory and his body's mana reserves are so low that he needs the latent energy within the scroll to be able to even cast the spell.
- Vials, bottles and sealed pouches of alchemical ingredients for making all manner of impressive concoctions, most of which are just a cocktail of artificial stimulants that Pariah consumes on the spot.
Pariah outright refuses to share his history, as there really isn't much to tell. He was brought up in a fairly well-to-do family, but the wierdness begins here.
His family is alive and well. Pariah left of his own free will to begin a life of crime, and his parents ENDORSED IT.
Over the years, Pariah has built a fairly large store of funds and a long, impressive list of dead people to tout around at social events in the underground, if one such thing should ever occur (it hasn't). Currently, a mysterious benefactor is paying a massive sum of money for Pariah to perform a duty that would save the world, if it is performed correctly.