I am Malleus. I was given this name because it the name of my father. I am at the age of 16 according to the years of man. I am known as the Assassin because of the talents were cultivated.
I was born a Gnome because my parents were born the same as were their forbearers.
I stand 5 feet tall with a muscular body. I have black hair with small green eyes. My tan skin and a plain appearance in general makes me unique.
I see myself as one who follows anyone who is willing to lead. I want to my craft by first starting a trade in alchemy and herbalism or doing assassinations. I generally view alliances as a tool of convince.
I intend to do anything and everything in order to become the next Ruler of Kings. It should be known that I am friend to anyone and no one. I am both friend or ally and an enemy or nemesis. Thus, I now start this path towards life.
A Sentimental Value
A short sword. A simple short sword is all I took from my familial home when I left at the age of 16. It was both a functional item and one of sentimental value. The sword was nothing to stare it. It was bare bones and had seen better days. There were nicks and scratches in that cold iron of a sword, but nothing that a good smith could not work out. It was that sword as well that I had trained with a child. I could still smell the stench of sweat that had been worked into the leather of the handle. However, those are stories for another time.
Connor, a man of many secrets and knowledge. A man have come to respect and fear. I remember first meeting the man on one of the many trips my mother and I took into the city. I vaguely remember seeing the man watching the multitude masses of people entering and leaving the city with the careful eye of one who worked in both the light and in the shadows.
He was a man of multiple skills and talents. I remember our first true meeting was evening in the market square of the city. I had just snatched several apples from a unremarkable merchant and was trying to make my way from the man. He had watched me as I had made my way through the square to the alley he was in. I did not see he was there, nor did I ever know he was there until I had tripped over his outstretched leg. He then caught me by my linen shirt as I was in the process of falling. He quickly pulled me into the shadows of the alley, hiding me from the angry merchant and guards. He then cupped my mouth with his hand as the guards ran by.
After a few moments, the man turned me around and stared at me with cold, observant eyes. He took the apples from my hands as my mouth remained opened. In return, he placed a few coins in my hands. He then pulled the well worn, but elegant cloak around him as turned and left the alley.
Over the next several visits to the town with my mother, I would seek out the man in the market square. I would always try different ways to catch his attention and show off new skills I was working on. Sometimes he was there; other times he wasn't. There are times were I was awarded with a few coins and other times I was awarded with the cold stare and back of hand.