Name: Alethea Rudicum
Class: Thief (Spy/Support)
Appearance: Alethea has shoulder-length auburn loose curls that softly frame her face. Her heart-shaped face is very youthful in appearance, still maintaining a bit of roundness in her cheeks, a dotting of freckles dancing across the bridge of her button nose. Graceful eyebrows arch over bright, inquisitive hazel eyes, framed by thick lashes. Full pink lips hide straight, white teeth, and a blush is easy to spot on her fair skin. She stands at an even five feet tall and is very petite, with only a slight bit of curve. She’s quick and agile, and her small stature is good for hiding. She generally wears a dark brown mid-calf length skirt, with tall boots of a matching color. A white blouse with short sleeves is mostly hidden by a thick leather vest. Over this entire outfit she wears her magic robe. Her body is riddled with various scars, ranging from as small as a papercut to a raised scar extending from her right elbow to her right shoulder.
Personality: Alethea is a very honest person who takes everything at face value. She doesn’t really get sarcasm or subtle hints, instead interpreting only what people actually say. She has trouble spotting a lie, and she herself is incredibly bad at successfully lying. Blunt and to the point, some people would call her brutally honest, perhaps to a fault. Alethea is pretty even-keel, unless someone comments on her height, or how young she looks. When such a thing happens, her temper is lost in a flash, as she is very sensitive about the fact that she looks more sixteen than twenty-two. She is also rather sensitive about her robe, as she feels like it looks stupid, but knows she can’t be rid of it. It is the thing that granted her magic, after all. If only she hadn’t touched it...
Alethea is a generally kind individual, trying her best to be of help to those around her. She doesn’t always go out of her way to help someone if they do not express the need for assistance, as she figures if they need it, they’ll ask. She doesn’t mean that in a rude way, she simply thinks that people will say what are thinking, the way she does. She isn’t incredibly excitable, but isn’t entirely calm, either. Striking a balance somewhere in the middle, Alethea would call herself an average person, unnoticable if it weren’t for her strange robe and the fact that she’s a mage. When she speaks, she often gestures a lot with her hands, the too-long sleeves of her coat hiding them and flopping around comically. She’s a very curious individual, always tinkering with things or asking questions.
Alethea is a quick thinker with sharp reflexes and light steps, and stealth is her specialty. She enjoys sneaking up on people and scaring them with a poke in the ribs or a loud shout. She’s no ‘upholder of justice’, and isn’t above a bit of kidnapping for a well-paying client. A bit dense when it comes to social interaction, the girl may simply stare at somebody in confusion after they speak, if she doesn’t understand what they’re saying. She isn’t always the most empathetic of individuals, and drama makes her uncomfortable. She has no way of dealing with crying people, she just flutters around uselessly and awkwardly. Hates crying herself, as she considers it a sign of weakness.
Magic Item or Ability: The magical item connected to Alethea is a robe of a deep royal blue, intricate gold threads interwoven around the edges and cuffs to create a shimmering border. The sleeves are long, extending over her fingertips, hiding her hands entirely. It extends all the way down to her ankles, her small feet visible beneath its hem. A large hood attaches at the collar, but she generally has it down, leaving her head exposed. This robe enables her to heal wounds and illness at an accelerated rate, and the fabric itself doesn’t tear. Instead, injuries mysteriously go through the coat and directly to her flesh. Any injuries maintained while wearing the coat are guaranteed to scar, always leaving grotesque marks on her skin. It is also fire resistant, and allows no burn damage to get through to its wearer. At the wearer’s command, the robe grows poisonous quills. She plucks them off and uses a dart blower to shoot them at enemies, and the potency ranges from a tranquilizer to a deadly poison. This coat has a mind of its own, and can be rather mischievous. Occasionally, it will push and pull her around until she goes where it wants. If she removes it, it cannot be more than ten feet away from her, or it’ll rush back, wrapping itself around her stubbornly.
Weaknesses: Alethea has trouble being sensitive toward others, and lacks much physical strength. She very nearly cannot tell when she is being lied to, and is utterly terrified of thunderstorms.
Bio: Alethea was born in a small village, to two parents that loved her very much. She was an inquisitive child, always wandering around, asking questions and touching things. Her mother, a person very paranoid about magic, was constantly dragging her away from the mysterious visitors to the village, convinced that the moment she discovered a mage, all would be lost. Her father, a logical man, told his wife regularly that magic wasn’t contagious, and she would argue, Alethea peeking through the doorway of the room. On the one hand, magic fascinated her. Something not meant for humans that they could possess? It made them special. It made someone unique. On the other hand, her mother told her that magic would consume you, it would eat your youth away, and you die a horrible, painful, inescapable death. Such a thought terrified the young girl, but not enough that she avoided all signs of magic. She wanted to meet one of these mages, ask them how much of what her mother said was true. Would magic steal your youth? Did that mean outwardly, or inwardly? Did you really become a slave to an unknown master, forced to do horrific things you do not want to? Or was magic more like a severe rash?
One rainy day, in the summer of her thirteenth year, the girl saw a mage. Well, she thought he was a mage. Who can say for sure? She was in the forest, just outside of town, when she saw a flash of fire, straight out of nowhere. It made no sense! Why would there be a little ball of fire in the middle of the woods? Sneaking toward its supposed origin point, she saw a figure, clad in dark colors, disappearing into the depths of the forest. That man had to be a mage! Why was he throwing fire in the woods, didn’t he know that setting something on fire there would be catastrophic? Intent on giving the dark figure a stern talking to about fire safety, the girl softly set off after him, soon losing her way in the extensive forest. Sure that if she found the mage, he’d help her out, the girl trudged on, pulling her cloak tighter around her.
She never did find the mage. Lost in the woods all night, she was found by a search party in the morning, led by her infuriated mother. The woman forbid her from going into the forest ever again, and kept her at home, doing things like cooking, cleaning, and sewing. Important things for a woman to know, she said. Nobody will want to marry you if you can’t do those things, she said. But Alethea wasn’t sure she wanted to get married. At least, not if all a man was going to do was lock her in a house to keep clean. That sounded boring. She wanted to travel around, like the merchants that would visit the village, and see new places. But she obeyed her mother, staying home and keeping house, day in and day out.
It was her sixteenth birthday that everything changed. Tasked with going into town to buy produce, the girl practically skipped down the road, basket over her arm. Fresh air, and perusing merchant’s goods on her birthday? It was the best birthday she’d had in a long time. Quickly buying what she’d been sent for with a rare smile, Alethea browsed the booths of several merchants, admiring necklaces, bracelets, and even books. There sure were a lot of merchants… more than usual, anyway. At the end of the street, set up slightly apart from the row of merchants, was a booth, with the strangest wares the girl had seen. Chainmail armor, worn helms, shining swords, and, strangest of all, an extravagant blue robe, hanging right in the front of the booth, where a merchant would generally put something to practically beg someone to buy. Things they’d had for a while, that nobody wanted, would often be displayed in such a place, and talked up until they were purchased, probably for too large a price.
Alethea approached the merchant, chatting politely with him. She found her gaze constantly being drawn to the expensive-looking coat. Why would he have something like that? The merchant caught on to her interest, weaving an elaborate story about how he had received it from a rich noble for being their preferred merchant, and Alethea bought every syllable. After all, if it’s the story he told, it was true, wasn’t it? Staring at the robe, the girl reached up to finger the sleeve gently, not noticing the merchant grin. He was so gonna sell this robe, and get a darn good price out of it, too. Even though he’d simply found it by the side of the road one day, next to a dead body. Dead man’s trash is a smart man’s treasure, he supposed. Alethea touched the robe, stroking the sleeve softly. It was so…
She never finished that thought, as the robe vibrated, shaking the entire booth. Alethea jumped back, startled, but the robe dropped from its hook and shot toward her. With a scream, the girl covered her head with her arms, waiting for… for what? She didn’t know, but this robe practically screamed “I’m magical, let me suck your lifeblood!”. Shaking, the girl lowered her arms to see the robe floating in front of her. It… what? Dropping her arms to her sides, she stared at it. What did it want? Suddenly the robe flew around her, sliding onto her arms and back and settling on her shoulders softly. She would later swear she could practically hear it sighing in contentment. An excruciating pain tore through the girl’s body, and she screamed, dropping to her knees. Drops of rain fell on the back of her head as she knelt, clasping her waist and sobbing.
Several minutes later, as the rain picked up, the pain stopped. Alethea looked up, searching for the merchant, to ask him to take the coat back. But the man was gone, fled in terror, wares abandoned by the roadside. Standing dizzily, Alethea removed the robe, still tingling, and laid it down in the booth, picking up her spilled produce and walking home. She hadn’t even gotten ten feet when the stupid thing flew and attached itself to her, and she buried her face in her hands in despair. This robe was magical for sure, and her mother was going to KILL her. Looking down at the sleeves, she could tell it was made for someone much larger than her. Her hands were completely covered by the thing, and she tripped over the hem as she walked. Kicking at the hem of the robe, her eyes widened as she saw it curl up to her ankles, and with a small flash of light, it was short enough for her to walk in. Holding her arms up, she said hopefully, “Hey, can you fix this, too?” But to no avail.
With a sigh, Alethea trudged down the street through the rain. She couldn’t go home, her mother would freak out. She just… she just had to figure out how to get rid of it. Before she knew it, her feet had taken her to the outskirts of the forest she was forbidden to enter. The girl looked up at the tree she stood under, rain dripping down her face like tears. What was she supposed to do with this coat? It needed to go. It needed to. Pulling at the fabric angrily, she tore the robe from her body and threw it in the mud, stalking away. Yet again, it followed her and slipped right back onto her, ignoring her desperate sobs. Falling to her knees at the edge of the forest, thunder clapped and lightning flashed as she cried.
A bolt of lightning struck a tree on the outskirts of the forest, causing it to burst into flame. Alethea looked up at the burning tree in shock, and her eyes widened even further when she noticed it tipping. It… was falling? Her body froze and she simply stared in horror as the burning tree fell… right on top of her. Flaming branches surrounded her, the trunk narrowly missing her by inches, and she screamed, expecting to be burning alive. But nothing happened. Trembling, she stood, lifting an arm in disbelief. There the coat was, covering her hands protectively. Even her hair was unsinged. Looking at the flames around her, she stumbled through them, tears streaming down her face in shock. The flames never touched her. She could barely even feel their warmth. Clearing the tree, she took off to her house, her basket of produce forgotten, consumed by the fire.
Her mother fainted, and her father looked at her in grim disbelief upon her arrival. The woman was in denial, no, no daughter of hers would possess magic. She couldn’t get the robe away from Alethea, but she did everything she could to pretend like it didn’t exist. She told neighbors it was a birthday gift from a rich relative. She told Alethea not to do anything out of the ordinary, and she simply pretended that it was a regular coat, living in her own distorted bubble of reality. Alethea’s father, however, became more closed-off than ever, harboring an insane wife and a mage for a daughter. Never had he thought his family would turn out like this.
Alethea was unhappy. If she was going to die some horrible death by magic, she might as well make use of it! And so, every day, she snuck out of her house, testing her robe to see what it could do. The quills were an entirely accidental discovery, and the next time a weapons merchant rolled into town, she procured a blow dart shooter, and kept it on a belt around her waist. When she turned twenty, she grew fed-up with her mother’s behavior, and, being the honest person she is, told her so. The two fought, and that night, Alethea took all the money she had and ran away. She mostly stole to get by, gradually picking up knife after knife to fill her mini arsenal. She simply wandered, lost, with no goal, turning twenty-one, then twenty-two. That is, until she heard about the Guild of Arcane Nomads. Being near to Calary at the time, she traveled to the guild and joined it, hoping to find a place to belong.
Additional info: Carries many small knives and daggers, along with her blowpipe.