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"Watch out. My cat happens to be a trained killer."
- Original Artwork by Tooneyfish (DeviantArt)
- Theme Song: "Illuminati" by Audiomachine
BASIC INFORMATION:
Real Name: Corvattil Duvois Alias: Larcen Gender: Male Race: Human Age: 33 Birthdate: 9th of Autumn, 478 AV Occupation: Intelligence Agent
APPEARANCE:
A man of the shadows, Larcen's face has never been shown to anyone as of yet. Usually seen only in his black armor and cloak, with his features cowled by a heavy black hood and further hidden away by a black mask, Larcen is more or less invisible when night falls - which is the only time he can be found roaming the streets. Nobody knows what he looks like under his larcenous effects, so the only way he is identified is by the sinister appearance he carries, and by the only feature of his face that shows through his dark garments - his unnervingly green eyes reminiscent of swampwater.
CHARACTER CONCEPT:
Those of Larcen's trade are tend to be known by many names, such as rogue, thug, hooligan, bandit, no-gooder, and so on. Some of these names are even varied through classification. Assassin. Thief. Spy. Larcen calls himself none of those. When asked what his occupation is, he merely replies in a deadpan voice: A man of the shadows. Larcen's dark nature revolves around several areas of expertise, and he can be pinned down to no real roguish category. If need be, he will draw a blade with sufficient skill or lay a clever trap and butcher someone in cold blood, but that doesn't make him an assassin. If required, he will break locks and steal treasure, but that doesn't make him a thief. If needed, he will lock himself up in his lab, and begin concocting all manner of vile and devious poisons and venoms, but that doesn't make him an alchemist or a poisoner. If in the mood, he will play charades with his trusty cat, Mister Fluffy, but that doesn't make him a pet trainer.
And if he feels like it, he'll save a crying little girl from being raped and murdered by a band of lusty, battle-hungry gangsters, but that doesn't make him a good man, now does it?
It just makes him ... indecisive.
HISTORY:
His past is one of many things Larcen refuses to talk about. Even his name is in doubt; few in his line of work use their real names, after all. If they even remember the things. Larcen remembers. Or he thinks he does. But he likes to keep it squirreled away in the darkest depths of his enigmatic mind.
The name "Larcen" first appeared in 501 AV, in the fortress-city of Syliras, but someone matching his appearance had appeared years earlier in the lawless hive of unrest known as Sunberth. There, he was known to be the son of a master thief who had been involved in a heist gone wrong. When you failed in Sunberth, it wasn't pretty. Suffice to say his father failed to get out of the whole affair in one piece. In fact, his father was cut-and-quartered, and parts of him were dangled all over the city to remind the wretched inhabitants of Sunberth of the price of failure. His mother, having no other options, for employment for women in Sunberth was not so much scarce than limited and humiliating, was forced to turn to prostitution to support herself and her child. The young Larcen did not grow up happily. His mother could not defend him. Sometimes he was beaten bloody by her customers. He grew up swearing revenge.
His father had left Larcen nothing but a set of spare tools he had not taken with him to the grave. Larcen claimed those as his heirloom, and worked with them on the rusty locks of his own home on a daily basis. When he sought a better training ground, he headed off to homes all around his district and broke into them with relevant ease. There was nothing worth taking, really, but he took things anyway. A stale loaf of bread there. A chipped mug here. Just to make his mark. Sometimes he used what he stole, but unless they were edibles, that was dangerous. More often than not he sold the junk to peddlers and merchants, and form the petty coin he got, he tried to make his mother's living easier. But the pittance he garnered wasn't quite enough. He had to move on to bigger, better things. Richer pickings. And in Sunberth, the only ones who were rich were the ruthless who thrived on lawlessness. He targeted them.
For the first few years of his trade Larcen stuck to petty crime lords, and earned a handsome income from this, but soon he went on to bigger, nastier things. He robbed a few bigshots' estates, and got away with it cleanly enough. Driven by greed and success, he walked right into a trap during his next scheme. Barely managing to escape with his life, Larcen fled Sunberth and headed off to the outskirts. When he dared to return, he found his mother, slaughtered, in their dinghy little home. With nothing left to bind him to Sunberth, he left with bitterness in his heart.
Larcen soon made his way to Ravok. It was not so strange, that he would've picked the infamously beautiful city known to harbor dark secrets behind it's elaborate charm. Larcen quickly made a name for himself in the criminal underground as a quick-handed thief and a petty killer who did not hesitate to cut down the innocent in his way as he made his escape. His lack of morals and heartlessness made up for his general lack of skill. He was soon a sought-after hireling, and given important jobs. On one mission, he was betrayed, and the job was botched. He was left for dead, and crawled for safety, ending up half-dead on the doorstep of an unwitting Eypharian dancer called Takihra.
Takihra nursed him back to health, and scoffed at his incredulity of helping a stranger. She was an exotic dancer, sought-after in the Ravok underground, and immune to it's black struggles due to her high social status amongst lusty criminal lords. They lived together for awhile, and Takihra gave back Larcen's humanity, and gave him a heart once more. It was the closest Larcen ever got to a regular life. She liked him. He liked her. They both liked her cat, Mister Fluffy. Things seemed alright, for a change.
Still, his closeness to her brought forth jealousness, and Takihra was soon endangered by those embittered by their intimacy.
Events unfolded in rapid succession, and by the end of it, Larcen cradled the Eypharian's dying body as they fled Ravok, fled their pursuers, and headed for the safety of the fortress-city of Syliras. He made it. She didn't. Just short of the city gates, she perished, and the ghost of her last smile, directed at him, was etched onto her beautiful face for all eternity.
Seeking vengeance, when Larcen arrived at Syliras, he pledged his service to the Syliran Knights as a covert operative specializing in infiltrating places he did not belong to and making away with things that did not belong to him. His efficiency and deadly determination impressed the Syliran Knights enough that they did not arrest him for the nature of his trade, but used him, first as a spy who was effectively a double agent, then as a manner of other things, until finally, it got too dangerous for them to risk using Larcen, and they pulled him out of operations.
Now, Larcen remains in Syliras, for it is one of the safest cities for him to be in, free of his detractors' influence. Sometimes, his past catches up with him, but most of the time he is skilled enough to eliminate his pursuers. He serves as an on-and-off intelligence operative for the Syliran Knights, handling matters too sensitive for the knights themselves to have a hand in. He is their shadowy arm of the law, the shadow that exists where the light must dwell. He is not just a Syliran government-employed agent, but also serves, at times, as a freelance operative who works for just the right amount of coin.
