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The Lord Ruler's perfect capital city, Luthadel, is doing the impossible: rebelling. Skaa half-breeds are being taught the power of Allomancy, something that the Lord Ruler's obligators said only existed in the nobility. The enslaved skaa, with their murderous benefactor, now fight back against a living god's oppression.

So, the Inquisition was formed. The nobles begin to fear assassination from all sides. The times of nobility Mistborn killing each other are over. The Steel Inquisitors look for aristocrat traitors and insurgent skaa, and the skaa try with all their strength to merely survive. The Lord Ruler's perfect Final Empire is slowly devolving into chaos.

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Mistborn Series © Brandon Sanderson
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1 reply to this topic

#1 Artas


Posted 19 January 2012 - 09:46 PM

Skaa Tineye

Player Information
Name/Handle: Artas
OoC Account: None yet? Do I need to get this done?
Contact Information: [email protected]

Character Information
Name: Artas (Art)
Type: Skaa Tineye
Age: 22
Gender: Male
Place of Origin: Skaa Slums
Occupation: hooligan, pick pocket, infiltrator
Relationship Status: Single

-Type: Misting
-Metal(s) Used: Tin
-Degree of Skill: Novice
-Status: Hidden, not understood.

Appearance: A generally fit youth, with cord-like muscles, giving him a somewhat lanky look for his true strength. Art stands about 5’ 8” with average length arms and legs. His dark hair is always disheveled and generally cut unevenly. Artas’ face is lean and his cheekbones are a bit more pronounced than average. His nose is slightly pointed and slim, it is also a bit bent to the left due to numerous beatings he has taken. Artas’ eyes and green and piercing this, coupled with his cheekbones and nose, give him a bit of hawkish look. Art often wears a cocky smile and carries himself with a very casual and nonchalant air, which seems very contrary to the lifestyle he lives.

Special Skills: General charm, some brawling experience, knife fighting, observant (especially with tin), speed/smooth talking, self taught reader, picking locks/pockets.
Strengths: Artas is a very charming young man, skilled at making friends and tricking those who aren’t his friends and talking his way out of sticky situations. In addition, being a street Skaa, he isn’t bad in a fight if it comes down to it. He is a skilled thief, experienced in infiltration and quite robberies.
Weaknesses: Uneducated can barely read and isn’t knowledgeable about allomancy . Not well connected, but some connections with the underground. His gambling habit makes him a lot of enemies over time because he cannot settle his debts. Art doesn’t have any money lying around or much of anything due to his impulsive gambling. Very impulsive in general, if someone upsets him, they will know it. This can lead to rash decisions and outright illogical choices.

Personality: Art is a very laid back fellow. He lives under the philosophical idea that if something works for you, and doesn’t hurt others (too much) you should do it. Artas doesn’t necessarily hate the nobility, but he believes that they have too much and its his right to take the excess. He loves adrenaline and the feeling of taking a risk with the possibility of a big payout. This leads to him having a gambling addiction. Art is kind to his friends and makes them rather easily. He can also be quick a flatterer and smooth talker when he wants to be.

History: Artas was born in the year 896 as the son of a Skaa mistress name Jezarelle and an unkown noble. His mother was caught up with killed by the nobility when Art was still in infancy. A friend of Artas’ mother by the name of Gallik took him in and raised him. Gallik was a skaa thief and locksmith, picking locks for crews as well as for more legitimate reasons. He trained Artas as his apprentice and taught him how to pick locks and steal quietly. By the age of twelve Art was already a near professional thief. Unfortunately, Gallik was killed by house guard’s when doing a particularly risky heist. This left Art by himself to face the world at the age of only fifteen.

Art continued in his adopted father’s legitimate business for some time, picking and fixing locks for those that needed it and he made modest coin. He soon discovered that he hated the way he lived. His life was fairly simple for a Skaa and he was able to get along without trouble, but he was bored. He loved the rush he got from being in danger and risky situations. Over time, as his business flourished, Art decided try the entertainment offered in taverns. He had seen men play dice before, but hadn’t tried it himself and was motivated by the prospect of getting something for nothing. It was genuinely baffling to him and a very alluring prospect. So he tried his hand at dice. Art found it... intoxicating, even when he lost he was still having the time of his life. Artas soon tried every kind of gambling he could, cards, dice, and even random wagers over silly things, like spitting into a cup at 10 paces. He ignored the odds behind these wagers and made horrible bets that no man could win. This did however have an interesting side effect, the men he took to being around were entertained by his antics and way with speech, and this made him fast friends with his gambling and drinking partners, but rarely building any sort of reputation as he gained more and more debt with even his gambling buddies.

He turned to borrowing money and back to robbery to fuel his habit. Picking pockets during the day and picking locks at night. He often went without sleep in the tavern gambling away everything he had earned during the day, and more. When his debtors came around to collect, he often came up with ingenious excuses and elaborate ruses to escape from his debts, at least temporarily. This went on for several years, paying back very little and incurring larger and larger debts. During which time Art grew into a young man in his twenties. He became quite a charming ladies man. The chase after women was just as good as gambling. High risk, high yield, that’s what women were to Art as he pursued any and all opportunities for adrenaline. He became muscled and fit as he often got into fights over his debts, women, and wagers. He frequented underground boxing leagues to make more money for gambling, as a participant, as well as to gamble himself. He lost far more money than he gained, as usual, and soon he couldn’t talk his way out of his debt any longer. The owner of the underground boxing league owned quite a portion of Art’s debt and intended to collect….

Roleplay Sample
Art sat at a card table in the backroom of his favorite tavern. There were several other tables in the room and all were occupied. The room stunk of unwashed bodies and ale. As Art’s feet bounced on the floor from nervousness they stuck slightly on spilled ale. He looked at his hand of cards; it was a horrible hand, with very little chance of winning. Artas glanced quickly into the eyes of everyone at the table, none of the other three at the table looked too confident.Time to work some magic he thought, confidently. He slapped a quick confident smirk on his face, “I raise fifty boxings,” he said, as he shoved the vast majority of his remaining coins into the center of the table. His smile grew even wider as the rush of risking so much flooded his system. There was a sigh of exasperation from the other men at the table two of the men murmured gruffly as they folded. Art took a long drink from his metal tankard and felt the burst of adrenaline from the success of his bluff. The tankard was a bit weathered and he coughed a bit at the strong taste of tin in his mouth. He set the tankard down and stared at the only remaining player. The man, who had played cards with Art several times in the past, stared at Art for several moments before laughing aloud and saying “I call you scoundrel.” Art paled a bit at the sudden crushing of his hope, but quickly hid his dismay with a laugh and a smile. The other men at the table all laughed as well, thinking it a simply jest from “good ol’ Arty.” Artas stood up, plucking the small remainder of his boxings from the table, and bid his companions good night. He slid on his cloak as he walked out the door.

A good walk will help clear my head Art thought as he walked down the street in the cool night air. Beggars and bums lined the sides of the streets as Art walked. He wandered around till late deep into the night. After hours he had managed to convince himself that everything would turn out fine, as it always did, and headed home. Art turned down a slim alley to save time while readopting his confident stride. He jumped and swung around as he heard a cry of “OY Art!” Three men ripped themselves from the shadows behind him and moved towards him. Art squinted against the darkness and mist struggling to see with only the ambient light of shops outside the alley, and could make out the burly form of the man in the middle as Rakel, head of a boxing league he was involved in. “Eyyy Rakel what’s going on man1” Art greeted as the men moved ever closer. Soon he was close enough to make out Rakel’s expressionHmm he looks a bit upset I wonder wh-. His train of thought was cut off as Rakel grabbed him and smashed a meaty fist into his gut.

“Guhh,” Art cried out, he doubled over and leaned against the side of the alley. “Pay up!” barked Rakel, as he grabbed the front of Art’s cloak and pushed him up against the wall, readying another punch. “Look man.. I have some boxings right here..” Art proffered. Rakel ripped the pouch from Art’s belt, allowing him to slide down the wall to the floor, and tossed the bag to one of his cronies. Rakel kicked Art in the gut as he attempted to crawl to his feet. Pain spiked through Art’s body he cried out and gasped in rapid succession. “Eyy boss,” the man holding the pouch said, “this aint near enough.” Rakel cried out angrily and dragged Artas to his feet. “You don’t got the money boy?!?” He screamed into Art’s face, his breath smelled strongly of rotten meat and Art tried to draw back; but Rakels grip was strong. Art tried to slap on a charming smile, but just came off with a half smirk “Rakel man you know I’m good for it, I wouldn’t cross a tough guy like you.” Rakel hesitated for a short moment and then spat on Artas’ face “I’m SICK of your EXCUSES!” Rakel shouted point blank. I guess I’ve got no choice then, Art slammed his right fist into Rakel’s face, with a satisfying cracking noise.

Rakel released Art and staggered from the force behind the punch. “Get ‘im,” Rakel ordered, rubbing his jaw. The two men ran past him at Artas. He brushed the first man by him, using the man’s own momentum to score a telling blow to the gut, earning him and “Oof” as the mans breath was pushed out of his lungs. He took the opportunity to shove him away and size up the next man. This man was more cautious, grabbing a plank from one of the piles of debris and swinging it towards Art’s face. Art raised a hand, barely in time, and took the hit on his forearm. His face drew back into a snarl as pain shot up his arm. Art kneed the man in the groin, pulling the plank from his hand and smashing it across the man’s back. The man fell with a grunt and a dull thump against the cobblestones. He took the moment to relish the joy of the fight. Adrenaline coursed through his veins, washing the pain away, and he smirked and gave a cocky grin to Rakel. This, needless to say, angered Rakel greatly. Rakel released a rabid war cry as he ran towards Art drawing back his fist into a wild haymaker. Ha he’s too angry to focus, this should be an easy fight. Art drew back into a defensive stance and prepared to dodge the powerful blow.

Art’s eyes widened in surprise; as his right leg was kicked out from under him. He went down on his right knee and was disoriented by the sudden pain from behind. Rakel laughed as his fist smashed against Art’s right temple. “Aggh,” Art cried out as he fell face first on the ground. All three of his enemies surrounded him and began kicking him and beating him. Art had no idea how much time had passed and he soon fell numb. Eventually the men took their leave. Art coughed and blood spewed out his mouth. His fuzzy mind produced the thoughts That’s… not good.The world began to fade away into a dark numbness. Just as he was about to give in to his demise, he felt a warm sensation in his stomach. Suddenly he was stark awake as his many injuries burned into sharp paint. The darkness retreated beyond even the normal, the mist retreated and he could see with extreme clarity. The stench of garbage was incredible as he lay on the cobblestones. He gagged and choked on the stench and the strong taste of blood in his mouth. Well this is odd I should be dead. He thought with his now sharp mind and, attempting to ignore the incredible pain he felt, crawled out of the alley. Luckily the man who patched him up after boxing matches lived barely twenty feet away. This.. is gonna be bad.. Art thought and he began crawling….

#2 Chaos

High House Noble

Posted 21 January 2012 - 11:29 PM

We really enjoyed Artas! Good job! :) Accepted!

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