Quiet former assassin, attempting to better himself


5’2’’ dressed as a peasant, yellowish eyes. Dark skin, with a slight mottling, like a camouflage a reptile would have if it lived in the forest. Solid, whipcord frame. Dark brown, almost black hair.


I was born into the Centipede clan. My parents sacrificed me to the clan as a babe, gaining honor through personal sacrifice. This is all that was ever told to me about them, told to any of us raised at the Temple of Honor’s Dedication. Each student was tested for their affinities. Poisoners, Blade artists, Martial arts, Spies, Assassins. Once our martial prowess was determined, our advanced training began. For myself and a few others, we were trained to harness our inner ki, to use our elemental natures to bring death to our targets. Once our elemental affinities were determined our real training began. We were raised to be killers, and so we did. We were raised to be the hidden blades, the hands in the shadows, eliminating the enemies of the clan, bringing honor to our parents sacrifice, and prestige and glory to the clan. Prestige and glory…more like coin to the coffers.
Many times did I kill for my clan, believing wholeheartedly in the rightness of my actions. For, if I followed the will of my lords, how could I be treading anything but the path of honor? How wrong I was. It ended for me the day I was sent to kill some minor merchant in the lands of the Wolf. I reached my appointed target days in advance, studying his movements, his habits. I watched as the devoted father of two doted on his children more than he cared for gold, and could not understand why the clan would believe him a threat. On the night I was to complete my mission, I found him in his chambers, reading his ledgers. Quietly, I waited for him to leave, to go to sleep, that I might end his existence as quickly and efficiently as possible.
As he left the room, I paused to read his ledger. This marked the end of my time as a member of the Centipede. In it, I read an angry letter from the lord who had sent me on this “imperative assignment of utmost importance.” It seems the lord wished this minor merchant dead because he would not give the lord a minor discount on tea. “Such a petty thing to be killed for” I thought, as I stood over the sleeping merchant, “Is this truly the reason he is marked for death?”
I found I could not reconcile this, and found myself confused. My confusion turned to anger as I thought over my previous targets, their deaths taking on whole new meanings now that I could see them for what they were. Pointless. My existence had been as a pointless weapon, used to resolve petty disputes by vindictive, honorless men.
Since then I have found work from time to time here in the lands of the Wolf, as a bodyguard, as a thief, returning what has been taken, and as a champion to those who cannot fight for themselves. My skills are mine now, to do with and learn as I will. I hope to redeem myself and my honor before I die, to bring meaning to my once pointless existence.


Bamboozled Densharr