Aubren Everlove

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• Vital Stats

  • Name: Aubren Everlove
  • Gender: Male
  • Played by: Everlove
  • Nicknames: The Song of Silence
  • Race: Half Elf
  • Class: Assassin
  • Alignment: Neutral
  • Deity: Raven Queen
  • Age: 22
  • Size: Medium
  • Body Type: Lean
  • Height: 6''0
  • Weight: 125lbs
  • Complexion: Light
  • Hair: Black
  • Eyes: Dark Blue
  • Handedness: Ambidextrous
  • Relationship Status: Single
  • Personality: Anti-Social
  • Mannerisms: Carefree attitude towards everything he does.
  • Likes: Music, Reading, Sweets
  • Dislikes: Loud Noises, Ghosts, Royalty
  • Ailments: Mute: After tremendous torturing and the death of his mentor caused by the Royal Guard, Aubren has developed selective mutism. Only speaking in a few short and silent words when he has to.

• Biography

  A man walked down the dark and empty alleyway humming an old sailor’s tune, his attitude somewhat carefree and mellow despite the dangers of walking alone in the city at night. A hooded figure suddenly bumped in to him, causing him to stop humming.
  “Hey, watch it!”
  The figure kept walking along without a care until the man grabbed the figure and spun them around.
  “Apologize, when you bump in to someone.” he growled in annoyance.
  The man stared at the hooded figure’s eyes. They were a dark and burned with defiance. The figure pushed the man back and whipped out a knife, the weapon not very threatening nor big. They proceeded to point it at the man threateningly, trying to force him back. But hand wielding it shook ever so often, giving off the hint of fear until the wielder stabilized their hand in attempts to hide their inexperience.
  “How ‘bout no,” the figure analyzed the man. It didn’t look like he had much on him. However, what little he does have would definitely help. “Now, give me your money.”
  If the man was shocked, his face didn’t register it. He quickly knocked the knife away from the figure and slammed them in to the wall.
  “Rule number one: Never use a weapon you are not familiar with. Weren’t you taught that,” the man asked. “Now let’s see what’s under that hood.” The man took off the figure’s hood, exposing the face of a young boy, his midnight black hair cascaded down to his shoulders. His facial structure was round and soft, suggesting he was still a child, and a pair of pointed ears protruded from his hair, leaving one to assume he had elven blood. The boy’s eyes were widened with fear, and the man’s with surprise.
  “A lad? Tsk, how old are you?”
  The boy gritted his teeth and stared back harshly at the man.
  “Answer me, before I lose my temper.” the man growled.
  “Fourteen.” the boy finally spat.
  “The name’s Isaac.”
  “Aubren.”
  Isaac let go of the boy and backed up. He studied him further for any sudden movements, but Aubren was still. Sensing that he didn’t have any more intentions to attack him, Isaac eased up.
  “You got decent knife skills, definitely need some more work.”
  Aubren straightened up and went to pick up his knife. Isaac studied Wren’s clothing, and judging from the dirt and tears, he would have to guess the boy was on the streets for a while.
  “Where are your parents,” Isaac asked.
  “Dead. Burnt to death from a fire, commanded by the royal family.”
  Aubren balled his hands up into a fist, eyes darkened with anger. A thought flew in to Isaac’s mind. The potential this boy had was astonishing. Isaac knew he had found a new student.
  “Do you want avenge your family?”
  Aubren scoffed. “And how do you suppose I do that?”
  “I can teach you how to properly wield a knife,” a smile grew on Isaac’s face. ”More importantly, I can teach you how to kill. Got a target?”
  For the first time, after the death of his family, Aubren smiled. “My best friend, the Prince.”
  And thus that was how the next six years of Aubren’s life carried out. Each day Isaac taught the young lad everything he needed to know about killing, living in the shadows, and existing simply as a rumor; giving him all the skills he needed to make a living in the forbidden business of killing. And by introducing Aubren to the various guilds of their city, he had even given the boy a new family and a place to call home, something Aubren thought he would never have again. At age sixteen the young killer began accepting minor contracts for theft and assassination, mostly someone just wanting to even a score or retrieve something valuable, but work was work. As the years progressed the difficulty of Aubren’s jobs grew exponentially, but so did his skill, eventually making him a feared rumor among some of the high ranking officials of many cities. “Be good or you may hear The Song of Silence tonight.” was a common threat parents told their children to help discourage foul behavior, referring to the assassin as if he were some kind of boogeyman. While all the publicity and rumors hardly phased Aubren, they certainly caught the attention of the royal family, causing them to increase their guard in each city out of fear that the killer may come for them. But little did they know just how right their fears were.
  “Wake up!” the sound of an angered male voice echoed loudly in Aubren’s ears, snapping him back to consciousness. For a moment he forgot where he was, until he felt the harsh sting of a blade lash across his chest. This was the torture dungeon just below the royal castle, a room many thieves and criminals feared and spoke of in whispered tones. He had been here for weeks, shackled and blindfolded as the court mage tried various methods of physical and psychological torture to try and get information out of Aubren after his failed attempt to assassinate the prince. If it wasn’t for the rat in their guild who had leaked the plans to the guard, he wouldn’t be here right now.
  “Good, nice to see that you’re awake.” Cackled the man, his voice full of sadistic amusement. “How are we today?”
  “….” Aubren remained silent, having not spoken a single word to this man since he had been taken in. The mage had spent weeks preforming cruel and inhumane spells on his body in hopes of getting something, but Aubren had resisted.
  “Ah, silence as usual. You know, as much as I enjoy hearing your screams of agony, a few words would be nice. In fact, they would most likely save your life.” The man mused, the sound of footsteps moving back and forth leaving Aubren to assume he was pacing the floor in thought. “Well if you feel so instant on your silence, then perhaps you could help me with a new spell I’ve been working on. You see, it numbs the flesh of who it is casted on so they will not have to endure such large amounts of pain. This typically makes it useful among surgeons and apothecaries. But I have reversed the effect, causing the spell to increase the sensitivity of the skin. A simple cut may feel like a piercing blade through the skin and a small burn could make you feel as if you were sitting in the flames of hell itself. But, who knows? Maybe it won’t work, or maybe it will. Let us find out.” He finished eerily, the demented smile twisted on his lips could practically be heard as he spoke.
  How long had he been here? Days? Weeks? Months? A year!? Aubren couldn’t tell. Time was just a simple concept to him now, one that had been forgotten long ago. Many simple things had been forgotten when this all started, like hope and the will to go on. All that was left now was pain, and even that barely phased him now. The mage would cut and burn him again and again until he would pass out from the enhanced pain, then heal him so that he may start over when he came to. But still, no matter the torture, the sadist never got the answers he sought. Aubren had given up hope that his guild would come busting into that room and rescue him, hell maybe they were all dead and the mage was now doing this for kicks. Or maybe they were all gone and skipped town, leaving him behind as a loose end. Either way he was done, today was the final day. Little did the court mage know his little spell he had used to enhance pain, also enhanced his sense of touch. Almost to the point he could feel traces of magic left on his skin after the mage’s sessions. It took a while, but Aubren noticed that the small bits of magical essence that were left behind had slowly began to fade into him, and he could now feel a small spark of the arcane power forming inside of his body. He also began listening oh so carefully to each chant the mage had used for the spells, and though he didn’t know what they were or what they looked like, he knew the pain they could bring.
  The sound of the cell door creaking open filled the room and Aubren could practically feel the mage enter, picturing that sadistic smile plastered on his face. “Good afternoon! Nice to see you’re up and at em’ for today’s session. Sadly for you, it’ll be our last.” he said with somewhat mock sadness in his voice. “You see, the king has decided that since my methods aren’t quite getting any words out of you, that your usefulness to him has come to an end. But let’s be honest here, even if you had talked, we were going to kill you anyways! Heheheh!”
  Aubren then heard footsteps approaching, the same he had heard for so long. “You want words…” he whispered with a feint and hoarse voice. The footsteps suddenly stopped, he had the mages attention. Reaching deep down inside Aubren grasped desperately at the small flames of magic he had harnessed for so long, feeling the energy suddenly burn through him and empower his words. “Death strikes of thy left leg!” he screamed, feeling the empowered words flow from his lips and give birth to the death magic. The mage’s scream filled the air as the sound of his body collapsing echoed around the room. “Y-yo-you h-have—“the mage stuttered, obviously in shock from the sudden pain. Aubren wouldn’t have long though before the man gathered his senses and healed the wound, so he thought fast. He needed to break the shackles that were so tightly bound to his wrist. Concentrating on them alone he dug deep inside and grasped for whatever magical energy he had left. “The strength of ice is mine to evoke!” he called, feeling the air in the room suddenly grow colder and the shackles freeze over. With the physical strength he had Aubren lurched forward and then back, slamming the frozen metal against the wall. There was a loud crack and the tightness around his wrists was suddenly gone, he had his hands back. “N-no! S-stop right there!” the mage screamed in horror, still fumbling over his words. Aubren ripped the blindfold off of his eyes and opened them, somewhat blinded by the dim lighting in the cell. The mage was now up on his feet again and leaning against the opposite wall for support as he clung to his bleeding leg. With a hand stretched out at Aubren he yelled in terror. “F-forcebolt!” From the mage’s hand a blue ball of energy shot out and quickly flew at Aubren, but it missed just a few inches and struck the wall behind him causing it to explode and shatter into bricks. He then felt the warmth of sunlight and smell of fresh air engulf him, quickly realizing the mage had just made him a door. Without hesitation Aubren turned and shielded his eyes from the brightness of the free world then jumped from the castle tower, falling through the air until he was hit by the hard impact of water, knocking him unconscious. But as the world began to fade into darkness, a smile came across the young rogues face. He was free, and even if he were to die, at least it wouldn’t be in that cell.
  Weeks passed and guards searched the canal for the corpse of a prisoner who had managed to escape the cell tower, but with no luck. Lack of assassinations in the city lead the residence and politicians to believe The Song of Silence had finally come to an end and there wouldn’t be an encore. But there was rumor that was carefully spread through the city slums that a beaten and soaked man had been seen climbing into the cargo of a shipping boat at the docks, just before it left the city for the Celestial Kingdom.

• DnD Stats

  STR	9	INT	15
  DEX	14	WIS	14
  CON	14	CHA	11