The Nephews of Vadras are a group of malcontents, thugs, and assassins who roam from city to city. They situate themselves in an abandoned building, in a dark corner of a labyrinthine alley, or in an overgrown graveyard. Once settled, they ply their trades of banditry and murder until they are discovered. Then they disappear, only to infiltrate the next town some weeks later. What makes the Nephews even stranger is that they never travel without their beloved Uncle Vadras, the mummified corpse of a sorcerer, who they worship as a god.
Years ago, a young ne’er do well, named Kellan Armas came to the Nephews after being exiled from his village for killing a man in a drunken brawl. The Nephews took Kellan as one of their own, and Kellan took to the life of an outlaw. There was only one problem: Kellan had no skill as an outlaw. He was an unremarkable fighter. He had no skill at stealth or subterfuge. It was not long before Kellan was relegated to cleaning up after the other Nephews and driving Uncle’s wagon. That is until he crashed the wagon. Still, Kellan was loyal to the Nephews and Uncle, and so the Nephews kept the bumbling young man with them.
On one fateful trip into the city of Salem, the Nephews ran afoul of the Archbishop of Salem and their leader, Balcross, was captured and hanged. Vowing revenge, the Nephews set out to kill the archbishop. All of the assassins failed; the priest was well guarded and prepared for such attacks. Desperate for revenge, Kellan knelt down before Uncle and prayed for a weapon that would allow him to kill his enemies. Uncle answered Kellan’s prayer with a ring, a dull grey metal band without a stone or a marking. It looked like the something Kellan could buy from a shady street vendor and yet, he knew that if this were Uncle’s ring, it must be a weapon of great power.
A few days later, the archbishop presided over a public, outdoor mass. Kellan was there, hoping to get close enough to the priest to use his artifact. He pushed through the crowd and finally, onto the archbishop’s pavilion where he was stopped by a guard.
"Where do you think you are going, peasant?"
Kellan panicked, "Uh nowhere sir. Just trying to get a better look at His Holiness."
"Right then, you need to move on."
The guard was speaking to him, but looking past him. Kellan slipped past the distracted guard and stared in amazement at the group of clergymen crowding the pavilion. None of them so much as blinked as Kellan made his way to the archbishop’s chair; they were all talking amongst themselves, or listening attentively to a priest who was addressing the congregation.
It was only when Kellan drew his sword that the archbishop noticed him. He looked at Kellan’s face and squinted as though something fuzzy had suddenly come sharply into view. A second later, Kellan struck Salem’s highest ranking priest down. The pavilion and the entire congregation erupted into chaos and Kellan dropped his weapon and cowered, expecting to be torn limb from limb.
Instead, the enraged people searched for the killer. Kellan stood not a dozen feet from his victim and the guards were calling out.
"Did anyone get a look at him?"
"What was he wearing?"
"Did you see which way he went?"
In the next few months, the Nephews’ reputation changed. They went from a fringe cult of thugs to a steely organization of assassins. The Nephews received contracts from mobsters, guild masters, master thieves, and noblemen. They executed all of these contracts with ease and though the murders themselves were rather clumsy, no one ever managed to capture, or even remember, the assassin. The fortunes of the Nephews soared.
It was all the work of their new master assassin, but the Nephews did not even notice. Though the ring had given Kellan the power to kill with impunity, his companions still did not recognize him; they barely even talked to him. Someone might recognize him long enough to say hello and ask him to clean their boots, but in an instant they would be gone, talking to someone else, or distracted by their own thoughts.
He had been nobody back at his home village. Even after he killed a man, they did not bother to hang him; they just sent him away. He was nobody when he joined the Nephews. Now, he was the most dangerous member of the cult and had earned them tens of thousands of silver.
And he was still nobody.
That night, with a pack full of silver and the mysterious ring, Kellan left to find his own way. The Nephews woke the next morning having lost their most powerful member and they did not even notice.
When worn, this ring makes its wearer totally non-descript and forgettable. His charisma and appearance scores are immediately changed to average for the game system and all distinctive features are lost. He will be able to blend in with any crowd. People will not remember him, his name or what he looked like. People he talks to will tend to forget important details about the conversation.
In general, you can assume that the character goes unnoticed and unrecognized. If the person looking at or talking to the wearer of this ring will not notice or remember the character unless they are making a specific effort to do so. Even then, they have to make a perception test to succeed.
This is the perfect item for would be assassins, or their prey. However, the ring has the side effect of making the character a non-person. People will tend to ignore him, abruptly end conversations with him to talk to others. Waitresses will forget he is there. Even his friends will find it hard to pay attention to him. The character will be unable to lead, or participate in meaningful discussions or planning.