Faust Khatar

Basic Appearance:
Name - Faust Khatar
Race - Wood Elf
Height - 5'10"
Weight - 165lbs
Eye Colour - Hazel
Hair Colour - Black
Skin Tone - Heavily Sun-kissed.
Scars - One diagonally across his lips, starting at the left cheek and ending on the right side of his chin.

Basic Description:
Faust held himself with a slight slouch when lounging around the Sundered Desolation. Not many felt the urge to talk to him, but those who introduced themselves found that he was quite friendly. The man has a hard time dealing with the plague, and would rather drink his sorrows away, than talk about them.

Detailed History:

Before the plague, Faust was a trouble maker - not too different from what he is now, but the man put his talents to greater uses than peeping on survivors. No, Faust used his talents to make a fair bit of gold spying on royals and shaking down people who refused to pay up. In short, he was a man who knew many secrets, and held even more to himself. Alas, such a job gives a man a fairly unwanted reputation - forcing him to travel quite often. He didn't mind, of course. Faust enjoyed a good ale, and an open road. With such a wonderfully free life, one would assume he would be quite happy. Which he was - lets not mistaken that. Faust was as happy as a man could be. The pay was great, and the experience priceless - but, only a year before the plague would strike Siranda, he found himself in such trouble that a skilled rogue like himself could not escape. 

Let us start his story there, then. After leaving Ten Towns, the man found himself lacking anything to do to keep his mind busy. He had a fair bit of gold from his last job - and no real need to hop to the next city and find work straight away. So, he decided that he would settle in a smaller village for a few weeks for some well earned rest. Faust enjoyed spending time in little blips on the vast map of Faerun, where he was but a simple man to those who passed. Like his father had always told him, 'all great men should keep their blades sharp, their minds fresh, and their hearts true'. Staying in this village would bring his head down from the clouds, allowing him to - when he traveled to the next city - do what he did best with a fresh approach. 

Now back to his 'mistake'. Faust entered the small village - a little place to which he did not care the name of - and asked around for a place he could rest his head for the night. It wasn't long before he was pointed in the direction of the nearest inn, and settled in for the day. He was a man who liked to shut himself in from the world every now and then. It gave him a moment to breathe, to think about the many things he shoved to the back of his mind while he worked. It was a time where peace and quiet were dearest to him, and a good ale in his hand was very much needed. Of course, this was his very first mistake in a long line of terrible trouble that he would soon run in to. 

As the man settled in, unbuckling his worn and broken in leathers, he heard a soft tapping at his door. His mind wandered to the bar wench whom served him - how she had blushed when he tipped her a bit of extra coin. Perhaps it was her who knocked, he thought as he made his way to the door. He tossed his leather bracer to the bed, cracking the door open just enough so that he might peek a hazel eye at whoever it was that sought him out. To his confusion, there was no one. The hallway leading to his room was entirely empty. So, he took a careful step outside his door - only to hear the soft crinkle of paper under his boot. His eyes immediately shot down to the parchment. 

Faust leaned over to pick the page up, moving back into his room and shutting the creaky wooden door behind him. He sucked in a good breath, before letting it out in a wary sigh. Approaching his bed and taking a seat at it's edge, he looked over the note for any clue as to who had left it at his door. Not to his surprise, there was no name. In fact, the only thing written on the note was written in scribbles - a language he couldn't understand. He simply shrugged it off as a mistake. Perhaps someone had left it at his door thinking that another rest here. Besides, why would anyone want to leave him a note? As far as he knew, there was no one in this little village that knew who he was - or cared for that matter. Faust balled the note up in his hands, tossing it into the roaring fire across the room from his bed. He watched as the parchment curled and blackened, before falling back into the hard bed and letting sleep creep into his mind.

Not but a few hours later he woke up to the horrid sounds of screams from below. The man shot out of his bed, nearly collapsing as he did so. With sleep still blurring his vision, he yanked his armors on. There was no time to think, and even less to act. His heart thudded heavily in his chest, as his hazel eyes searched the room for his escape. He had only just pulled his boot on and decided that the window was his escape, when he heard the sounds of heavy foot steps approaching his door. With no time to spare, he scooped the rest of his gear into his left arm and bolted for the window. Just as he heard the door handle turning, he forced the window open - only seconds passing between the time it took him to wake up, and climb out the window. 

Faust hung there for a moment, as the realization that he had nowhere to run sank into his heart. He could do nothing but listen as the three sets of boots entered his room. The shatter of his empty bottle of ale as they searched for whatever it was that they were looking for. In that moment, he realized, he would have to take his chances - he would have to let go, and fall. It wasn't a terribly long drop, but he was far up enough that he might hurt himself if he was unlucky. So, he did what anyone would have done. He let go of the ledge. It wasn't until he let his fingers slip that he knew that his luck had just run out.

As Faust fell through the air, he felt his leather armors slip from under his arm and his body twist in the most awkward way imaginable. In a panic he reached out for anything that he might grab, and without surprise caught nothing but air. A cry of shock escaped his lips, before the man hit the ground - hard. The last thing he saw was a figure above peering out his window, before darkness washed over the man. 

:: to be continued ::