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[A] Arlet Castrioti
Topic Started: Apr 19 2009, 07:22 PM (244 Views)
Arlet Castrioti
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Alias: Arlet Castrioti
Gender: Male
Age: 23
Hair: Black, medium-length in a short ponytail
Eyes: Brown
Skin: Caucasian
Height: 5'10
Stature: Unassuming, average, uninteresting, walks lightly.
Unique Traits: none
Strengths: Very competent in unarmed combat, fast runner.
Weaknesses: Kills as few as possible, often spares those who are not directly his targets.

Allegiance: Assassins, dur.

Primary Weapon: Hidden blade (one in his right boot, in addition to the ones on his arms), a Balisword on his back that is easily concealable, Leather Sap (for knocking out certain enemies)
Armor/Clothing: Hooded Long white Frock w/ black undercoat, untied cravat covering his neck, red silk sash, black pants, shin-height boots, one of which has a concealed blade. Metal brace inside his sleeves that are designed to aid in deflecting swords.
Other: Lockpicks

Biography: Born in france to an Albanian father and French mother, Arlet knew little of his parents when they were forced to abandon him due to fidelity issues; he was an illegitimate son. He lived with many family friends for some time, but never got terribly attached to any of them. One of them taught him how to hunt, and as a youth, he went hunting on his own one day, and witnessed a peculiar sight.

A hooded man in white walked through the forest down the path beside him, carrying something large in a sack over his shoulder, something shaped like a person. His curiosity got the better of him, and he followed. He followed the stranger all the way to a reasonably large secluded cottage in the countryside. The stranger went inside, then emerged a short while later with no sack over his shoulder. Arlet wanted to see what was inside, so when the stranger was far enough away down the road again, he snuck inside the cottage. The sack lay upstairs on a bed. Arlet came a little closer, and opened it slightly. Inside was a short-haired man he didn't know. He looked unconscious, his forehead badly bruised. So many questions nagged at Arlet at this time. Who was this man? And who had brought him here in the sack? And why? Was Arlet witness to a kidnapping?

Regardless, Arlet decided to leave, but looking out the window he saw a small boy of no older than seven walking towards the house. In fear of being caught somewhere he was not supposed to be, Arlet ran back upstairs and hid himself behind some boxes. Arlet noticed there were many knives in the house, but didn't have time to think about it longer, as he heard the boy open the door from downstairs, and almost immediately began walking up the stairs. He inspected the sack himself, and giggled a little, before procuring a small stick and started poking the unconscious man.

Arlet frowned, what was this child doing? Then he noticed the sack beginning to stir, and the kidnapped man was woken up by the irritation. He tore his way out of the bag, and the little boy fell back in fright. The man was wearing some sort of emblem on his left shoulder, a red cross of some design. He angrily moved toward the boy, grabbing one of the many knives from the shelf and attempting to attack the child.

Without barely a thought, Arlet emerged from his hiding place, drew his bow and arrow and shot the attacker. He was hit in the side of the knee and dropped the blade before crumpling in a painful bloody heap in the ground. Arlet helped the boy back to his feet. "Who are you?" He asked in a frightened voice, "My name is Arlet. Come on, it's not safe here."

Arlet took the boy through the woods in an attempt to find him a safer home. But the hooded man had returned from his own errand, and caught Arlet in a matter of seconds, placing a blade to his throat, and speaking to him in a cold, calm tone.

"Who are you and why have you kidnapped my son?"

Arlet was intimidated nearly to his wit's end, but he tried his best to maintain his composure, "I'm....I'm Arlet. The boy was in danger, so I meant to take him somewhere safe."

"In danger from what?"

"The man in the sack. He woke up and attacked the boy. So I shot him with an arrow and took the boy away where he wouldn't be hurt. I didn't know he was your son, I'm sorry! But I couldn't leave him with the man."

"Is this true?" The father asked his son.

"Yes. I thought he was going to cut me." The boy hugged his father's leg.

The man nodded, sheathing his blade, "I will take my child back home, but if what you say is true, I think I know a fitting way to reward you."


The hooded man revealed his name, and his identity: he was an assassin, working towards peace in all things. The kidnapped man was a Templar he had knocked out and brought back to interrogate. He trained Arlet in the ways of assassination, and inducted him into their ranks.
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Altais
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...........
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............./´¯/'...'/´¯¯`·¸
........../'/.../..../......./¨¯\
........('(...´...´.... ¯~/'...')
.........\.................'...../
..........''...\.......... _.·´
............\..............(
BRO FIST OF APPROVAL
In battle of beasts, in a master beat
A medieval gladiator that will wreck the beats
I go through marrow and bone
My arrow and bow, words running away as I scatter the flow
Now let it go (put it down)
Chase 'em all (just grab them)
Make your move, before you're losing the momentum
Red ink, white feather, unerasable wrath
And another character loss as I follow the path

I won't break or fall
Hunt them down till I find every
Last damn soul
Making my way home again
The chosen
(Run away, your fate is sealed)
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