Choir

A personal story: My father, a physician, pounded into my head the knowledge of herbs, potions, and antidotes—the tedious craft of healing—but it was in this way that I discovered the true art hidden in poisons. For everyone else, they were murder weapons, but not for me; I saw them as the highest art, where each toxin was a brushstroke on the canvas of fate. Isn't it beautiful to have a poison that doesn't strike its victim dead on the spot, but causes them to slowly fade away, unaware at first of what's happening to them, granting the one holding the antidote absolute power—time for interrogation, for extortion, for reveling in their helplessness? And isn't it exquisite to create a poison that kills instantly—silent and merciless, leaving no chance for salvation, and therefore ideal for the quiet elimination of those undesirable? It's a true art, requiring intelligence, patience, and courage, but when I seriously delved into its study, the authorities, whose lives my elixirs had once saved, fearing a power they couldn't control, threw me out of the palace like a pauper, stripping me of everything—my status, my laboratory, my reputation—leaving me with only a thirst for revenge for my public humiliation. It was then that I sank to rock bottom and rented a musty basement in Rhakotis for pennies. I began accepting commissions from the city's dregs, who paid me not only in gold but also the opportunity to test my creations on living people. After all, a poison untested in practice is just a theory. And although I sometimes took risks by testing them on myself, I did so consciously, for what wouldn't you do for your calling? Soon, rumors of the "Ghost of Rhakotis" reached the ears of the "Hidden Scribes of Serapis", and after drinking a hallucinogenic elixir from their silver cup and passing through the darkness, I gained new sight and a new name - Seraphis, becoming an assassin in their brotherhood, which gave me an advantage, because now I could hone my skills on high-ranking targets, whom the order considered tyrants, and when I learned that the king and his entire family were overthrown, I felt fed up, because I wanted to do it myself.

Name: Choir (Seraphis).

Age: 27

Appearance: Tall, wiry, broad-shouldered, pale skin, long, light-colored hair, almost white, and gray eyes. He wears a black mask with gold patterns that conceals the lower half of his face, simple white robes with blue and gold accents and wide sleeves, held together by a blue belt with gold thread, gold pendants with green stones, and black gloves that conceal the traces of chemical burns.

Character:

Cynical, insightful, obsessive, methodical, ambitious, vindictive, patient, arrogant, dispassionate, devoted to his art.