Sanzoku/Ifer'hém/Assassin

Name: Sanzoku

Gender: Male

Age: 368 (appearance 35, knowledge 50)

Race: Elf

Tribe: Ifer'hém

Occupation: Assassin

Title: Eye of the Black Flame

Overview: Sanzoku is a member to a fallen tribe. A tribe now considered a Coór'hém cult. He has lived with his kind proudly and has served both the Ifer'hém and the Coór'hém with pride. He is a chief member a small organization held together by his people, the Black Flame. He proudly holds the title of “Eye of the Black Flame.” His job is to keep a watchfully eye not only over the order but over all aspects of their plans. Currently he is looking for someone, someone the Black Flame wants brought back to Nybelmar.

Appearance:

Height: 2 peds (6'6")

Weight: 8 Muts, 2 Hebs, 203 Pygges (200lb)

Hair Colour: Nor’sidian (Deep Black)

Eye Colour: Karikrimson (Blood Red)

Physical Appearance: Sanzoku is typical for his tribe. He stands about two peds tall. His hair is a deep black with an almost unnatural sheen to it. His hair is quite long when let down, but due to the nature of his work he prefers to keep it tied up into a rouge knot. His skin tone is almost pure white, closely resembling the moon. Typical of his tribe, he has not shown much sign of aging. His complexion is perfectly smooth, save for some subtle lines around the sides of his mouth. His eyebrows are thin and take on a natural arch. His eyes are piercing, almost menacing as they gleam a deep red. There is no light in his eyes, it is as if the have died alongside his many victims over the years. His cheek bones are high and pronounced, they almost have an air of aristocracy about them. His chin, in a like manner, compliments his cheek bones, a very regal look to them. His frame is slender but toned from years of training and missions. His chest, back, and arms carry many scars, some accidental, some ornate. His legs appear to be longer than they should, giving people the illusion that he is taller than two peds. His hands are callused from years of working them. On the back of his right hand there is a black tattoo; it shows a fist holding a flame, and on his left there is a black eye. From head to toe Sanzoku carries the appearance Ifer'hém well and with pride.

Clothing: Sanzoku wears light compressed leather, blackened and studded with silver. The chest plate cuts off at the shoulders and is gilded with engraved sliver. On the front of the chest plate is a silver flame polished to a mirror shine. On his left shoulder there is a shoulder pad, layered with three strips of leather, and in a similar appearance as his chest plate. On his waist he carries a black belt with a silver, flame shaped, belt buckle; on the belt are several pouched for storing materials used on his missions. He wears two, black, fingerless gauntlets gilded in silver. His trousers are black and his shins are protected by pure black leg guards. Over his clothes he wears a pure black cloak, worn and dusty from many years of use. The only other notable piece of clothing he has is a white cloak, used for when he is tracking his objectives in the snow.

Personality: Sanzoku is a quiet individual. This is not due to shyness or lacking words, Sanzoku merely likes to observe, monitoring and then taking the best course of action. This does not, however, mean he isn’t sociable. In order to not draw attention to himself he will strike up a conversation, find a group and share an ale, whatever he needs to do to further his objectives. He is a chameleon, constantly becoming what is needed to better suit the situation. But the true Sanzoku is a maniacal schemer. Sociopathic down to the letter; the world is a game and he is just moving pawns. He struggles with his inner voices and can sometimes come across as not paying attention. He thrives under stressful situations and relishes the smell of fresh blood. During the hunt he loses all facades and become almost crazed. His craze is nornally not enough to break his concentration or his tactics, but its almost as if he is an animal toying with his catch.

Strengths and Weaknesses:

Strengths:

Master of Dual wield: Over the centuries he has perfected the art of dual wielding his blades.

Mastery of assassination: Since childhood Sanzoku has been reared in the art of the shadows. He knows exactly where to put his blade.

Subterfuge: The art of misdirection, when Sanzoku comes in from the right he'll make you think he's coming from the left. Sanzoku has been taught how to utilize smoke bombs, throwing knives and traps along with the environment around him to create the illusion of his presence.

Poison control: Sanzoku frequently uses Foolsbed and has become quite adept at using it. From storage to application, an oversight will not be made.

Deception: Sanzoku has always taken a particular intrest in social psycology. Watching people, their reactions and behaviours. Studing their subtle body cues; anywhere from eye movment to tension in the shoulders, Sanzoku has learned to read most people like books. As a result he has picked up an unatural ability in the art of decpetion.

Familiar: (see familiar section)

Weaknesses:

Sociopathic: Sanzoku has no feelings towards any other humanoid, to him they are pawns, means to an end.

The Voices: Sanzoku hears voices in his head. They are the pure embodiment of his sociopathic tendencies. They demand blood, and when they speak they are the only voices he can hear. This can lead to issues as mundane as asking someone to repeat themselves to losing concentration in a fight and ending his life.

Fatigue: Due to his age, Sanzoku is not a spry as he once was. Prolonged over exertsion will leave him exhausted and it takes him a while to recover.

Rusty shoulder: Due to an injury in a fight with the Crimson Xiphos Sanzoku's right shoulder occasionally catches when over worked . It also catches before and during bad weather.

Gambling: Everyone has their own vice, and this is Sanzoku’s. He will bet on anything, and more times than not this leaves him in a bad situation.

History:

Sanzoku's life started as any typical Ifer'hém. He was born under the rule of Ruhn Sky’rtal and Dr’tek. Sanzoku’s family served directly under the Aristocracy of the clan Wilted Rose. They proudly served both Ruhns in all things political. As customary, being the second born to his parents, Sanzoku was gifted to the clan’s military. His older brother, as traditional with his tribe, was sent for magical training. The Ifer'hém believe that through mastery of fire that the Embertree may be truly be revived and their tribe can return to its former power.

Sanzoku does not remember his parents only the cold demeanor of his commander. Sanzoku has only met his brother twice. The first was when Sanzoku was 82 years old. It was the month of the Burning Heaven. A sacred time for Ifer'hém where they take a pilgrimage to the site where the Embertree once stood. Sanzoku was still in training but the Coór'hém, out of respect for their bretheren, allowed any Ifer'hém willing to make the journey to the Embertree. As Sanzou made the journey he wondered if he would see his brother for the first time. He knew his brother had been sent to learn the powers of flame magic. All flame mages made this journey in remeberance of the Embertree and of their fallen tribe. Sanzoku felt excited as he made his way through the Crystalwoods, he had never met any of his family and quivered at the thought of meeting a powerful flame mage.

Sanzoku had made it the the site of the fallen Embertree, looking around he quickly realized that he was one of many. Nearly the entire tribe had arrived and the great flames of remberance had already been lit. Many flame mages gathered and put on spectacular displays of their pryomancy, and still more just sat around the great flames and reminised of better times.

Eager to meet his brother Sanzoku soon began asking around, he used the few details he knew about him and was finally pointed towards a small group of journeyman pyromancers. “Gentlemen, I am looking for a mage who bears this mark.“ Sanzoku raised his hand and revealed a tattoo bearing a fist holding a flame. “This mark is the mark of my brother.“

Sanzoku stared at the mages for what seemed to him lke an enternity. Finally one mage stood and revealed a matching tattoo. “My name is Móhcár'ámn are you really my brother?” The two spent the remainder of the festival laughing and learning all they could about each other. Sanzoku told Móhcár'ámn of his assassination training and Móhcár'ámn spoke of the Cár'áll and of Xeuá and Ecuá and other things that confused Sanzoku.
“So you break the Ecuá which links to the Ahms of the element?“ Sanzoku asked with a look that showed how lost he really was.

Móhcár'ámn laughed and said “Not really, that’s ok don’t worry about it.” Móhcár'ámn looked up and smiled. “I’m glad we met, when can we meet again?”

Sanzoku followed his brother’s gaze into the heavens. The sun had set and the dancing embers of the other mages drifted wistfully into the sky at they slowly died. “Not for 150 years.”

The two brothers said nothing, they both felt the regret the other had. There was something special between the two and they both loathed the thought of losing it so soon. Music played in the background as the two brother’s hugged good bye. The last thing Sanzoku saw was the dark silhouette of his brother as he conjured two fire balls that shot up into the midnight sky.

The Sanzoku embraced the darkness as he sped through the forest on his way back home. He had experienced true happiness, it was something that he wanted more than anything. “ I have to get stronger, If I die, if I die I can never see my brother again. Sanzoku’s face grew more intense. “Don’t worry brother, I will be back and Co’or destroy any who stand in my way.”

So Sanzoku trained, the more he thought of his brother, the harder he fought. and after ceaseless training Sanzoku was appointed to the clans royal assassination team; It was an honor for a non- Coór'hém to be appointed. It was here he hit a wall, Sanzoku was nothing too noteworthy, a few accommodations here and there, but still nothing that shouldn’t be expected from the Royal Guard. It seemed his goal had faded into obscurity and his ability stalled on average.

This seemed to be Sanzoku’s lot in life, but then there are times where even the mediocre have a chance to shine.

The Clan Wilted Rose was warring with their neighboring tribe, the Crimson Xiphos. This clan was said to have the God Commander, one who had single handily lead a defense against the Blood Skulls and bested their Ruhn in single armed combat. He commanded a squad of elite Coór'hém known as the Death Widows. Their mission was simple, to stall the Death Widows and keep them from advancing to the front lines.

“This is a suicide mission!“ the commander protested to the Ruhns.

“And if the Death Widows make it to the front lines then what.“ Sky’rtal scowled

“Commander we know the risks involved, but if we lose the battle we lose one third of our hunting grounds. We can’t risk starvation at the cost of six lives.” Dr’tek calmly stated. Knowing this was true the commander issued the orders to the Royal Guard.

“Come back alive.” Was the last order the Royal Guard received before they packed up and headed out.

“Ok men,” Jr’lken, the squad commander, started, “we have our orders, scouts have seen the Death Widows following this course, we are to intercept and hold them hear,” Jr’lken pointed to a position on the map, "any questions?" There were no replies.

“Good then let’s move out and make the Wilted Rose proud.” After a day of movement they arrived at the ambush spot. “Alright men, we have to stall them until night fall, that will give our forces a chance to push through the Crimson Xiphos main lines. We will need to use subterfuge if we hope to survive this one, is everyone properly equipped,“ nods around the group confirmed their preparation, “ok, our orders are simple, we stall them but do not engage. We are outnumbered and out classed. Is that understood.“

“Yes sir!“ they boomed with excitement. Within less than an hour all manner of traps were laid, and Sanzoku had taken his position at the top of the trees. Another hour had passed and the sun was three-fourths through its celestial cycle, the squad was on edge, the Death Widows were behind schedule, something was amiss.
Sanzoku looked over towards Jr’lken, he was trying to mouth something but Sanzoku couldn’t make out the words

“We’ve….been….spotted.” Sanzoku’s eye widened as he made out the last word, as he turned his head Sanzoku felt a sharp pain pierce his right shoulder. The force of the projectile caused Sanzoku to fall from of the tree.

“Where did that arrow come from?” Sanzoku quickly twisted his body and rolled as he hit the ground.
“Line formation!” the shout was loud and commanding, but it wasn’t from Jr’lken. It was the Death Widow Commander.

Fear set into Sanzoku’s mind. “How, we didn’t even get to ambush…Co’or he’s as powerful as they say. Thoughts of his brother whipped through his head. “Am I to die here…will I never see him again?” Ripping the arrow out of his shoulder Sanzoku winced and looked around, Jr’lken was now facing a shield wall alone, his chest was filled with arrows and he laid shaking on the ground.

“Single column, single column.” Their Commander barked as they surrounded Jr’lken. This commander wasn’t taking chances, not even with a single injured opponent.

The sound of stabbing and gurgling met Sanzoku's ears as he stood to his feet. “Jr’lken is dead, I’m next” panic had completely set in.

“I believe in you.” A warm voice filled Sanzoku’s head. Sanzoku closed his eyes and saw the smiling face of his Brother. Sanzoku’s eyes opened, changed. No longer where they the fearful eyes of a dead man, but the stern eyes of an assassin.

“We need to stall.” Sanzoku’s eyes shot around the field, “Three, I can see three.” Using quick acrobatics Sanzoku quickly made his way to his remaining comrades. “Guys we have to regroup.”

“Are you insane?” One of them screamed, “Jr’lken is dead and we are all that’s left. Its over”

Sanzoku looked down, he knew his comrade was right, but at that moment something snapped. “Yes, we may be out numbered, and yes, Jr’lken is dead, but I’m not and I have a mission.” His comrades looked him in the eye, their morale raised. “Are you, Coór'hém, going to let an Ifer'hém show you up.” Sanzoku smiled with an air of arrogance.

“Hell no, what’s the plan.”

“Ok, we need to lure them towards the snares. I will use myself as bait, but I will need you all to cover me with smoke bombs as a pass. Once I’m through work your way to the pitfalls and hold there.” Sanzoku quickly dashed off, he knew his only hope was to begin thinning their numbers.

Luckily the Death Widows had not caught site of Sanzoku as he fled and were unsure of his location. “Ok, they are in scattered formations looking for us, let’s give them what they are looking for.” Reaching into his side pouch Sanzoku pulled out three throwing knives. And with a quick and precise toss hit the trees around the group.

“Amateur assassin can’t even hit an unaware target; this will be easier than we thought.” One of the Death Widows sneered. “Men line formation, double time.” The Commanders gaze pierced through as his voice boomed. Sanzoku turned towards them with a look of panic in his face and quickly scampered away.

“Good,” Sanzoku thought, “let them think I’m incompetent, it will just make it easier to trick them.”

“Charge men don’t let the coward escape.” The commander barked as the formation picked up speed. “Hold the line.” Sanzoku could hear has he fled.

“Almost there.” Sanzoku thought as the trees whipped past him.

“Bloodspit!” a scream rang out followed by two more as the sound of bodies being thrown into the air by the snares. “Cut us down!”

“Men halt it’s a trap, switch to bows.” The commander yelled with force.

“Now” Sanzoku yelled as the smoke flooded the area.

“Stay together, “their commander yelled.

“Time for phase two.” Sanzoku thought coyly as he quickly shifted his weight and turned around.

Quickly darting through the smoke the figures of the Death Widows become visible and with a split second reaction Sanzoku threw out his elbow and jabbed the Commander in the side of the head. Having made quick contact Sanzoku continued to run towards the next set of traps.
“Men stay close, we need to get out of this smoke. Follow me.” Sanzoku could hear the Death Widows moving towards him, the commander had taken the bait. The smoke was gone and Sanzoku had turned to face his attackers.

“Come on you dastards just a little closer.” Sanzoku sneered at the thought.

“Halt!” the commander yelled, “arrows to the ready.” Sanzoku panicked, they weren’t close enough. “No more traps now boy.” The commander sneered.

“Co’or, he’s smarter than I thought.” Sanzoku watched as the bows were drawn. His mind raced was he thought, that’s it, “Skirmish!” Sanzoku yelled, no sooner had he said it, three bodies come flying out of the trees and knocked most of the line to the ground. Not wanting to miss his chance, Sanzoku dashed forward drawing his blades. “I can take the commander out now.” He thought.

Lurching forward he felt his blades deflected, in an almost like manner the commander had charged him with his sword and shield. No matter what combo Sanzoku through at the commander it was match with equal ferocity. There was no wondering why this man led the Death Widows. Not only was he a tactical genius, but he was a top notch fighter. There was no holding it off any longer, the Royal Guard was about to be over run.

“Retreat,” the command came swiftly but the sour taste lingered. Smoke bombs popped and the royal guard vanished. As they stopped to regroup only two remained, Sanzoku and one other. Sanzoku sadly gazed at the sky, the last twilight of sun disappeared past the horizon. The mission had been successful, but at what cost.

Sanzoku was promoted to leader of the Royal Guard and was held as a Hero. Due to his efforts the Wilted Rose was able to push the Crimson Xiphos back and was able to keep their hunting grounds. But fate was not done there. Sanzoku only increased in his abilities and prowess.

“Brother.” Sanzoku said as he crept through the trees of Cyrstalwoods. “Has it already been 150 years?” It was time for the Revival of the Embertree again and Sanzoku had eagerly awaited this day for a long time. Once again he was honored by the Coór'hém and allowed to take the pilgrimage to the site of the former Embertree. It had been many decades since he had last been there.

As he walked, Sanzoku’s mind was filled missions he had to complete upon his arrival. Grimly Sanzoku looked up. “We are wasting our time.” A dark voice echoed inside his head. Sanzoku ignored it, he knew that in time it would fade away. Sanzoku, tired from his journey, had finally made it to the familiar site. Just as it was 150 years ago, pillars of flame, music, dancing. It was quite the site but Sanzoku could not help but feel a distance towards it. He had changed and he wondered if his brother had too.
After a few hours of searching he found his brother he heard a voice, “Give me a few moments guys.” Sanzoku looked up to see it was his brother. Móhcár'ámn and his group were creating animals and people out of fire, it looked like they were putting on a play made of flames.

Móhcár'ámn slowly approached, his face was more worn from the last time the two had met. “Little brother, it’s good to see you again. The two briefly hugged and began to regale their own lives. Sanzoku told his brother of his leadership and many battles and Móhcár'ámn told of his acceptance into a prominent group of pyromancers seeking to recreate the Embertree.

As Móhcár'ámn spoke his eye would quickly dart away and shift back to Sanzoku. It was as if he was seeing something that wasn’t there. His speech and mannerisms were also erratic. It was clear that his studies into the flame were robbing him of his sanity. Sanzoku couldn’t say much, he had been questioning his own ever since the voices started.

After the two finished they stared at each other for quite a long time, both understanding the pain the other had endured. And without a word both stood up and went their separate ways. On his trip back home Sanzoku had not a thought of his brother. His curiosities had been put aside, but he had more pressing matters to attend. There was a message with his clan’s seal on it back home. And he had been ordered to not open it until his return.

Sanzoku reached his house and promptly opened the message. He had been summoned before Ruhns Sky’rtal and Dr’tek on top secret mission. The Bloodletters had made contact with the Wilted Rose and had decided the Crimson Xiphos had grown too powerful and would soon upset the balance of the Crystalwoods. Sanzoku’s orders were simple. The Bloodletters had requested that he assassinate the Death Widow Commander, who was now the Ruhn of the Crimson Xiphos. The Bloodletters had gathered a large force to assault the village and just needed to make sure the Ruhn died. Sanzoku gratefully accepted the mission, but held his disgust until he turned, the nature of the mission bothered him.

It was one thing to kill to protect and grow one’s own clan, but this was obviously a power play on the part of the Bloodletters. The Bloodletters would as quickly sell you out as they would cut your throat, but when they issue a command you had to obey. “Or do you?“ a sinister voice shot through Sanzoku’s mind. “What honor is there in this assassination, someone of you stature and accomplishments should be doing more than picking off the rabble.“ The voice was a constant reoccurrence, over the decades it had become louder and more prominent.

“You deserve more than what these filthy Coór'hém throw your way. Why not set your own path.“ The voice lingered a while longer but Sanzoku had learned to drown it out. The days passed quickly and the assault was at hand. By the time Sanzoku arrived the entire village was on fire. AS he saw the flames his mind briefly went to his brother but he had no time to linger in memory, he had a job.

"Now where is he?“ Sanzoku scanned the burning village. Quickly spotting the Commander fighting in a burning building, Sanzoku scampered towards him, “The chaos of war always made the best cover,“ Sanzoku thought as he danced around the carnage that was unfolding around him.

The Commander was still in the house, his combat skills had improved since the last time Sanzoku had seen him. Sanzoku watched as the Commander went from foe to foe with the greatest of ease, it was then a most wick plan hit Sanzoku. “This dark elf was worth more to him alive than dead. To have a friend this powerful would be a great asset. But he can’t walk out of this war. He must be believed dead or the Bloodletters will have my head.“

Grabbing a board from the ground Sanzoku silently approached the Commander, and with a smirk firmly landed a blow over his head. The body fell limp, alive, but barely. “My old friend, no humanoid can withstand blunt force to that part of the head. And now you will be out for quite a while.“ Quickly picking up the body Sanzoku carried it and hid it under derby. “No need for you to be found or killed, I will need you later on. Now sleep and let the fires cleanse you of you past.“ A maniacal laugh echoed from Sanzoku as he quickly made his way out of the burning village.

His plan was set into motion. He would build connections and use them to his own advantage. Nothing could stand in his way. Not the Bloodletters, not his foolish Ruhns, and not even the Commander of the Death Widows. Sanzoku laughed, but his smile soon turned to a frown. Abruptly stopping in his tracks he turned and calmly said, “Why don’t you come out and stop following me stranger.“

As if waiting for that cue a man cloaked in black slowly stepped out from behind the trees, “I see you see much, that is what we are looking for.“ The man’s voice was cold and sharp.

Drawing his blade Sanzoku spouted, “You better explain yourself quick before I cut this meeting short.“

“Oh delightfully short are we.“ The man chuckled. “Very well, I would like to invite you to an organization. One of the upmost secret. We deal in shadows and pull strings in the dark. We have watched you for many years, now it is your turn to watch us.“ A coy chilling smile was seen under the hood.

Sanzoku’s eyes narrowed. “And if I refuse?“

“Then you are free to go, but what of the power you seek?“ The man bantered.

“What do you mean.“ Sanzoku’s interest now peaked.

“You want power, and we are power. All you have to do is say yes.“ Sanzoku’s mind raced but the more he thought, the more clear things became. “Take the power, this is what we want.“ The voice in his head was right.

Sanzoku looked up at the man and smiled. “I will do it. “

And this is how Sanzoku became the Eye of the Black Flame. He was the sight of the ancient order. Through his supervisory many deeds were carried out. Wars fought, rebellions quelled, anarchistic silenced. The order had their hands in many situations, they always played form the shadows of society.

Now there is one last piece that must be said. Sanzoku was called by the Voice of the Black Flame. He was told of the passing of their leader, the Breath of the Black Flame, and of the high council’s, the Mind of the Black Flame, decision to seek the successor.

“Who am I to seek out, I seek only to honor the Council and strengthen the Black Flame..“ Sanzoku said with a bow.

“Mighty Eye, you are to seek out a powerful, yet wise Drow. One whom you have met before, the former Ruhn of the Crimson Xiphos. Find him and complete the Flame once more.“

A cunning smirk spreads across Sanzoku’s face, “I live to serve The Flame.“ As the man walked away a familiar dark voice crept into Sanzoku’s mind, “Time is close, our plan is almost at hand.“

“Indeed it is, indeed it is.“

Weapons: Two short swords resembling a Helcrani Shortsword with black grips kept at the back of his belt, crossing each other forming an x. As well as two dirks kept hidden under his gauntlets. On his belt he carries a vial of foolsbed dew, smoke bombs, and throwing knives.

Belongings: Apart from his utlity belt he also carries a small satchel with a canteen, some trail rations, a sleeping mat, and a fire kit, as well as a small silver cat dish.

Familiar: Kumori, a black cat. Sanzoku has had this cat’s lineage by his side for over 300 years. It is the only thing he truly trusts. They have spent so much time together Sanzoku has a sixth sense with the cat and will use him to smell out trouble.