Sneak Suits are the covert ops extension of the encounter suit
Demi-Catholic semi-Dominatrix ninja assassins
“A kill within every ten steps,
Not leaving traces within a thousand miles,
Dusting off one’s clothes and leaving after the deed,
Hiding one’s presence and name deep.”
~ Excerpt from Li Bai’s “The Verse of the Wandering Swordsman”
One bad moment left him permanently destitute. Down on his luck, Mark Greaves learns that necessity sometimes brings you to work you never realized you could be good at.
Freya is very tall and thin, you would know her if you saw her, for her eyes are shining from within. her face beautifully adorned teeth razor sharp; her clothes of the softest silk and her voice as soft as a harp. She sways her head from side to side, with movements like a snake; And when you think she's half asleep, she's really wide awake!
Priest of a death goddess
Gives life to the notion of no good deed goes unpunished.
Nod to Gossomer, for her Solomon Grundy forum post, my inspiration
500 Word NPC challange
The dark elf femme fatale Elainuk was the firstborn son of Robert and Lulu Bobblecork. She was born a healthy bouncy baby boy in the shire of Pedstand, which was part of the Cordially Aligned Tetrarchy of Halfling States.
Do me a favor, stay dead this time.
Sneaky bastards, the lot of them
Tis but a scratch, send the guards and make sure they capture that joke of an assassin
More than one convoy crossing the Southwest, traveling through the Republic of Texas and Rocky Mountain Republic has found themselves in the crosshairs of a heavy black transfer truck and it's deranged driver.
You should probably get ready for some trouble...
"Me? Oh, I’m no one of importance. Say, where are you folk heading? Really? Might I tag along for safety’s sake? I have business there…"
A curious dagger, with a blade stained by ancient gore; it has seen many dark deeds, yet goes unsuspected as more than some old piece of junk.
30 Assassins, both great and pathetic. - Die, by our hands…
What we need is an alternative to hiring mages that are good enough to deal with the Guild’s mages.
“That’s got be the worst assassin I’ve ever seen.”
Death is an art form. Where can a single act that is repeated by every single life at least once in their lifetime and have multiple emotions involved in each one. I relate this in a similar manner as a dramatic play. You look into the audience at the height of the emotional act and you see ranges of emotion from everyone. I experience this every time I watch the eyes of a guasto widen and become cold to look at. You should witness this yourself, to understand your own immortality and how to overcome it. Look into the mirror as your life trickles away and the truth will be revealed.
- Janus Sanguine High Priest of the Jongleurs Sanguine
Sages and naturalists frown at the common name given to these strange creatures by the small folk, but sometimes the silliest nicknames for creatures, places and people persevere in the minds of many. “Purifiers”, “Pond Jellies”, “Breath-Stealers”, “Lung-Ticklers” and “River Butterflies” are much less commonly heard appellations for these life forms. Wet Faeries are basically (and simply) a species of fist-sized, fresh-water jellyfish. Several traits steer them toward the peculiar category however. Firstly, Wet Faeries are nearly invisible in the water, much like their marine cousins but even more so. One can swim in a river swarming with these critters and not even notice their presence. Secondly, they possess the unique ability to clean and purify whatever body of water they inhabit. They do this via some sort of biological filtration process, sucking in all toxins present in the water, and releasing it back in its purest form. Needless to say, they are both a blessing and a curse to whichever folk dwell beside the rivers and lakes Wet Faeries inhabit. On one hand, no purer water can be found anywhere than a Wet Faerie lake or pond, and yet, in “pure” water “life” tends in fact to die out, lacking the needed nutrients to prosper. Thirdly, their “sting” is (unfortunately) virulently poisonous to all mammalians. Wet Faeries are loathe to sting anyone or anything, using their barbed fronds as a last line of defense, but if stung, most swimmers will suffer respiratory arrest, and die within minutes, usually drowning before they can make it back to shore.
Alchemists, druids, and less savory characters have studied these creatures over the years, and have predictably found all the ways Wet Faeries could be exploited. Morbidly humorous, some bards find it, that the Poisoners and Assassins Guilds as well as the Healer’s Union, all prize these creatures. The assassins use the extracted venom in obvious fashion, while the priests and healers use the still-living jelly-fish to sterilize other poison potions and to cure those already poisoned on death’s door.
It is known that a certain Earl Von Trumble keeps his vast castle moat stocked with Wet Faeries, the waters so clear that every bone of every one of his past enemies can be clearly seen on the bottom, twenty two feet below.