Against the Tides of Fate - Alistair the Red

[Xanfyrst]

Basic Information
Name: Alistair de Lioncourt
Alias(es): Alistair the Bloody, Alistair the Red, Silas, Jack White, Red
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Age: 33
Alignment: Chaotic Evil (leaning towards neutral)
Deity: ??
Profession: Bounty Hunter, Ex-criminal (?), con-artist.
Languages: Common, Elven, Luskan
Associates: Vicala and their twin sons. The Saints. Possibly some Zhentarim and Harper agents. (???)
Enemies: Too many to list.

Physical Information
Height: 6' 1" / 1.85m
Weight: 170 lbs/85kg
Body build: Athletic
Hair: Dark Red
Eyes: Emerald Green
Skin: Tanned


Personality:

Cocky and charming is usually the first two words that pop up in the minds of people who meets him. He seems to be rather friendly and well-mannered, but others often feel there's a much darker side to him. A side they really don't want to get to know.

His sense of self-preservation is near-legendary around the Sword Coast, giving him a questionable reputation even among those who believe to be his friends and family. If his life is threatened, he will find a way to get out of the situation... by any means necessary.

Alistair is an astute individual, who can pull resources out of nothing and manipulate other people to do exactly what he wants them to do. Additionally, he's always having one or several back-up plans in case things go awry. All this has made it incredible difficult for anyone to catch him, from bounty hunters to assassins. And even if they did, who says it wasn't part of one of his schemes?

Recently he has been rather unstable, frequently suffering from anger-issues. Even if the waters appear clear, there is a storm beneath it that threatens to surface in its full bloody glory. Anything can trigger this force of nature within him, so everyone are wise to never keep their back exposed around him.


Personal History

Not much is known. He's believed to be from Luskan, though he speaks with no accent.

It's widely known that Alistair has connections to the Underworld of the Sword Coast, who often makes use of his particular set of skills, though he has no real preference when it comes to employers, be it Harpers, Zhentarim, Thieves Guild or other questionable groups. Money is money.

As such he has also created a mercenary group called the Saints, consisting of some of the more unique individuals of the Underworld.

He is in a strange relationship with his former friend's best friend, Vicala, who he has two twin-sons with. Though not always happy, they do seem to have a strong bond.

Other

His father has been around the coast and had a lover in each city, town and village along the way. It's quite possible that he has several half-siblings. (OOC: emerald green eyes is a common trait in his family)

Dealing with him can be both fruitful and dangerous, as he seems to be not fully sane at times, letting his foul urges take over. If someone manages to become his friend, he often goes the extra mile to help them, as long as he doesn't have to risk his own neck too much.

[Xanfyrst]

The Mark of Blood, part 1.

Alistair stumbled through the streets of Athkatla, which was bathed in the light of the full moon. His mind was fogged as tried to escape whatever was chasing him, running into some of the city's more shady people who came out when the sun went down. Some were laughing right up into his face, amused by the foreigner's strange antics.

He somehow ended up in an alley, running literally into the back of a giant of a man and fell over. The man turned around, revealing the presence of two others, significantly smaller men.
"Look were you're running, idiot!" the tall man barked.
"Did he see anything?" One of the others said. A skinny man in his late 30s and with a receding hair-line. His teeth had seen better days.
The other one walked over to him and looked down, intimidatingly so. A foul stench of cheap ale filled Alistair's nostrils.
"Did you, chump? Did you see anything?!"
"I saw n-.." Alistair mumbled loudly, his mind still as foggy as before and was unable to hold a conversation.
"Did he say what I think he said?" the one with the ugly teeth asked the smelly one.
"Looks like it..." He grabbed Alistair by the hair and pulled him towards the others and dumped him down between them. The necklace around his neck broke and fell off to the ground.
"I didn't mean to..." Alistair mumbled, his emerald eyes dull and empty. He was clearly unaware of the dire situation he had stumbled into.
"I think this one's on somethin'!"
"Don't care! Let's kill him before the guards see us!"
"Well, lookie 'ere..!" The man with the ugly teeth noticed the necklace fall off and walked over to pick it up. He held it up high so that the moon could shine down upon it. The necklace itself wasn't worth much, but it was the ring that caught the attention of the man. Its silvery surface sparkled in the moonlight and the golden words inside it lit up in a beautiful contrast.
"Whatcha got there?" The tall man asked the one with the ring.
"He lost a ring... a very pretty one too!"
With the mentioning of a ring, Alistair instantly searched his neck and found nothing. The otherwise dull and empty eyes became alive with a furious fire. He grabbed the Smelly one's dagger and slit his throat before stabbing the surprised giant of a man between his legs, forcing him down on his knees. He then proceeded to stab the man in his right eye. As he pulled the dagger out, the giant fell lifeless to the ground. The man with the ugly teeth looked terrified at his comrades, one who was dead and the other one was close to bleeding out. He then focused on Alistair who stood between them, blood all over him. After a moment of being stunned, the man attempted to run away but felt a painful sting in the back and fell on his knees. He tried to grab the dagger than Alistair had thrown at him, but it was out of reach.
Alistair slowly walked up to him, putting a boot on his lower back and pulled the dagger out, resulting in the man crying out in pain. He rolled the man around and held the dagger up, ready to strike.
"Don't... I'll give you everything you want!"
Alistair then stabbed the man, again and again. After a few long moments of stabbing, he stopped, panting heavily as the uncontrollable rage he had felt left him as quick as it had come. He looked down at the man who had probably died after the first four or five stabs. He saw something sparkle in the pool of blood that he had created it. It was the ring.
"I already have it..." he grabbed the ring before his eyes began to flicker and he fell to the side, exhausted.

Sometime later he hears a voice say his name and he forces his eyes open long enough to see the dark silhouette of a man looking down at him. After that, he slips back into the his dream-less state of unconsciousness.