Csiza's page

About Csiza

A bastard and an orphan, Csiza has had a hard life. She was taken from the streets, and raised in an orphanage in Egorian--where her life was far from better. Even growing up, she could not hear, and without a strong support network, she never developed a feeling of community. For the longest time, she was confused as to how other people just seemed to know what each other was doing, coordinating in ways she had no basis to comprehend.

The other children, of course, saw only a girl with no friends, no voice, and who would never betray their depredations on her. No, she never connected with others.

Foggy winter days were her main solace. She would grin as everyone else would stumble around, while she would dive into banks of mist as easily as if it were sunlight. She spent as much time as possible in the cooler areas of the river, hiding behind food stalls of steaming gruel, staying to the shadow. The years of her middle childhood consisted of her hiding from everyone, taking whatever she needed, occasionally being caught and returned to the orphanage for a series of beatings and continued taunting. The experience left her with a strong sense of self, but little sense for learning or the desires of others.

Language did not come easy to her. Utterly ignoring speech, she learned the value of reading and writing slowly, through trial and error. She learned quickly that people do something with their lips to communicate, and although she tried to mimic the movements, it only earned her more beatings from the other children. It was only through literacy, tutored ruthlessly at the orphanage, that language finally came to her.

Yet, even then, armed with a slate and language, communication was still much a mystery. She had spent too much time alone, and was used to the idea that she cannot function alongside others. She left the orphanage for good, and wished every day for some way to disrupt that communication, some way to summon the fog that was her only ally.

Until it came. She watched as wife turned against husband, shopkeeper struck the patron, chasing guards stopped to truncheon each other. A lifetime of fury against others unleashed and filled others' minds with hate. That is how the Spiders first noticed her. That is how the Spiders became the only people who showed anything suggesting care.

Even today, Csiza is a bitter young woman, with no loyalty to her fellows. She thinks nothing of slaughtering people, much as one would swat a fly. If there is any hope of connection with the world she lives in, it will be through the assassins. Despite her lithe, elfin form and her delicate features, she still exudes an aura of forbiddance to those who would dare approach.

Pity her soul.

1. What can you bring to our organization?
I can bring a way of viewing and accessing the world that most do not. This is not merely through any mystic connection nor some arcane power. That is available in many places. I perceive and deceive the world because I am deaf. I cannot hear words of compulsion your foes might use against me. I am not swayed by sob stories, nor distracted by cries from afar. Fear not that I will miss the call to alarm, for while I cannot hear, I can read a face, smell the air, and feel the passing breeze as well as anyone--in some cases, even better. And many never suspect the deaf.

2. Why should we trust you?
I have no agenda. I only have talent. If you give me purpose, then my purpose is yours to give.

3. What future do you see with us?
Service until the end comes.

4. How religious are you?
There are those who have witnessed my powers over water and death, who have claimed that I am clearly a scion of Pharasma. Whether I am or not is immaterial. I know the purpose for which I am able. What I am can never be changed by what I believe. I focus on what is.

5. Your target is sitting in his study smoking a pipe. Next to him is his prized warhound. Across from him his maid is quietly dusting the mantle of the well lit fireplace where a blaze is going brightly on top of the stone floor of the hearth. Thus far you are unseen. What do you do?
I hide my scent with oils so the hound does not smell me. This gives me time to detect whatever spells and magical effects may be in the room. Once aware of my surroundings, I nudge the hound to attack his master. This will not last, the target will not die. But the ensuing chaos will be enough to give me the opportunity to lace his pipe with concentrated othur. He will smoke it. If I remain to witness it, it will be only to confirm the deed.