Angelica Camille Vicarvi
Posted: Thu Apr 09, 2015 8:12 pm
Middle Name: Camille
Last Name: Vicarvi
Alias: Angel
Appearance: Brunette hair she wears tied up, tiny in stature (easily underestimated as weak and fragile), very toned and trained muscles
Her clothing choices are carefully chosen to keep her discreet and unnoticeable --when in public she dresses in farmer's clothing making her look plain and common while leaving her the needed flexibility in the event of a fight, when she is worshiping she wears plain monk robes-- and if you saw her in her assassin clothing you wouldn't be alive long enough to spread the word.
Race: Human
Age: Almost 28 years old
Height: 5’0”
Weight: 102lbs
Eyes: Blue
Hair: Brunette
Personality Profile: Stoic, in public she may appear shy
Angel follows the orders of the Dread Lord, Dread Master, and Dread Captains without question. She is disciplined and will rarely lose her temper. She prefers keeping silent whether in a group or in a one-on-one situation based on the principle that the less she speaks the more she learns. It is this principle that allowed her to pick up the languages used by orcs as well as the one used by elves.
General Health: Physically fit
Deity: Bane
Initial Alignment: LE
Profession: Orc and Elven Translator for Hire
Languages: Common, Orc, Elven
Weapon of Choice: Fists
Background:
In the crop fields of Shadowdale, sweat drenched the rags of a young woman working in the corn fields of her old family farm. A drought hurt the harvest and the crops were few. She reached down lifting her eight month old daughter into her arms. The child’s brunette hair was brittle and her clothing hung from her malnourished body. She sighed as she carried her child and the few crops she could salvage into her run down home. Placing the crops on the table, the woman rummaged through her bare cabinets searching for anything she could feed the small child. It had been at least a day since she’d last been fed. She stopped as she heard a knocking coming from her front door. Sitting the child on the floor, she dusted her dress and tucked away strands of hair and plastered a smile on her face. At the door were a couple of Zhentarim. Some words passed between the guards and the young woman before she was distressingly pulled from the house and taken away in chains. The child cried herself to sleep.
Her parents were traitors to the city of Shadowdale. That is all Angelica knew. If it hadn’t been for the gracious and generosity of the order, she would have died in that shack. That is why she dedicated her day and night to the order. Completing her duties was the only way to show gratitude. She wasn’t only taught to fear the Black Hand but also taught to yearn merging with the hand. It was her destiny to be a weapon for the Black Hand to grasp. Now, after twenty-seven years, she was a lean and skilled assassin. Small and thin, she was thought to be delicate and weak. Her soft features and innocent appearance makes her deadly to those that would oppose the Black Hand.
As the horse drawn wagon pulls into Darkhold, the words of High Lord Fzoul Chembryl ring in her head. I am sending you to Darkhold. As the sole sword coast member of the Order of the Iron Gauntlet, you will answer to the DreadLord and through him, Imperceptor Vyshasa. And through him, Me. It will also be your duty to strike down those that stand against the Black Hand and to recruit fresh blood for the order. Do not fail.
Goals:
• Build up a Sword Coast division of the order of the iron gauntlet
• Become an important asset to the Zhentarim Dread Lord