Till

[Till]

Till Basic Information Race: Human Birthday & Age: Spring 485AV—26 Years Old Gender: Male Physical Description Till ain’t much to look at. He’s a bit short, and has got a face ten times more honest than he deserves. His hair is a ruddy red, like the clay of an old mudbank, and his smile is one that opens the door for secrets to start flowin’ in. He’s not much to look at; and he dresses simply. No good to look too rich, after all. It’s all grays and browns for him, dull colors, and sometimes a cloak for those dusty months. He’s thin as a twig and little, but Till’s got a way of carrying himself, talks with his hands as much as his mouth. Gestures wide and whole; smiles broad and true, there ain’t never a doubt about what this kid is thinking. Or at least, that’s what he’s hoping you’ll believe. Character Concept Till’s the go-too guy when someone wants to make something happen and they don’t want to trust it to whoever’s in charge. He’s not got a lot as far as connections go, but he makes people think that he’s the one to go to for favors, to grease the wheels a bit. He works under the latest syndicates, and when they fall to the wayside he signs up under the next one. There’s always a job open for someone who can get a man to do what he’d rather not, and Till’s real good at that. Character History Till was born simple, as far as these things go. His parents weren’t from wealthy stock. Worse, they didn't have a real steady income, and lived in the bad part of Ravok. They were lucky in that violence was never done to them, but work was hard to find, and their family was often homeless, and more often hungry. Difficult as times were, if Till brought a basket of apples home, no one asked where it came from. Once he brought some bad eggs, and his father got sick, died, and life got that much harder. Now, aside what you might think from what you’ve seen so far, Till was a lucky boy. It’d just been waiting on him a bit. You see, there was a man who worked on the bottom of things in Ravok, one of the leeches between the cracks who fed on the nastiness. He would be Till’s salvation. His name was Haydn. He wasn’t an enforcer, and he didn’t sell much of anything, but people listened when he spoke, and you can’t pay enough for that. He offered a chance out. An opportunity; the details of it were vague, but Till was desperate enough to grab for it. Not to Till alone, of course. That would be bad business. There were many others; orphans worse off than till, and a few who fared a little better. Half a hundred came altogether, and there were tests. Till despaired of ever getting in. But he tried anyway, undercut the rest and hoped it would be enough. In the end he weeded them all down, until by luck, determination and no small amount of cheating; only he was left. It was then that he learned the truth. The man had come from Zeltiva, and knew some small bit of wizardry. He meddled with minds, twisted perceptions. It was a secret he held tight, and the power behind his success in a city where so many others like him had failed. But he was getting older, wanted a legacy. A legacy needed an heir, and he had none. He had no blood sons or nephews, or any family he cared for at all; so Till would have to do. From early adolescence on, he was trained under Haydn’s watchful eye. He learned how to talk in polite company, how to convince . . . but mostly he learned the way Haydn did his Art. Till was superstitious as most folk, but he was greedy too, and he wanted the power that Haydn had to offer him. It was an apprenticeship of sorts, and he learned how to manipulate the people of Ravok into going his direction. Power is especially transient among the criminal factions. Sometimes they get busted, but usually they were swallowed up by upstarts that took their place. When they happened, Haydn was always standing on the winning side. He was no leader, no important figure, just a man with some skills the new gang might find useful. He taught Till about his Art, but he also taught him how alike all those criminal were, and how eventually greed and the overuse of power eventually brought them down. More importantly, he taught Till how to use that knowledge for his own gain. Slowly, Haydn’s eyesight grew worse, years and years of pushing his own limits finally caught up to him. He lost the ability hold on to enough of the power that he had to keep up with the dance of Ravok's underside, and he was growing too old for it besides. He left gracefully, introduced Till to this year’s employers and set off with a great deal of gold into retirement. He did not tell Till where he had gone. And the rest, as they say, is history. Training   Skills Unarmed Combat—10/100 [Starting Package] Hypnotism—25/100 [Starting Package] Persuasion—15/100 [Starting Package] Larceny—15/100 [Racial Bonus]   Lores Understanding Body Language Underworld Markets in Ravok   Languages Common [Fluent] Pavi [Conversational] Vani [Poor] Equipment and Possessions Item Cost Acquisition Description 1 set of clothing N/A SP Tan cloak, sensible tunic, practical shoes, pants and underclothes 20' X 20' Home N/A SP Small Room By The Lake Wool Breeches 5sm purchased warm lower garment Cotton Vest 1sm purchased upper garment made of cotton Thieves Tools 30gm purchased good for picking locks Ledger Item Credit Debit Starting Coin 100 Gold Mizas - Wool Breeches - -5sm Cotton Vest - -1sm Thieves Tools - - 30gm Total 69gm, 4sm Thread List 511 AV   Spring 1st - CEB 22nd - You New Around Here? 33rd - Can't Win Them All