| Full Name |
Nereus Crius |
| Race |
Kothian |
| Classes/Levels |
Thief and Adventurer |
| Gender |
Male |
| Size |
5 ft. 11 in. |
| Age |
25 |
| Deity |
Bel, Shem God of Thievery |
| Languages |
Koth (spoken/written), Aquilonian (spoken/written), Shemite (spoken), Ophirian (spoken) |
About Nereus Crius
Stats:
Agility 1d8
Strength 1d8
Smarts 1d8
Spirit 1d4
Vigor 1d8
Skills:
Climbing d4
Fighting d4
Healing d6
Lockpicking d6
Notice d8
Shooting d8
Stealth d8
Streetwise: d6
Derived Stats:
Pace: 6
Parry: 5 (2 + fighting/2 + 1 Acrobatic)
Charisma: 0
Toughness: 7 (2 + toughness/2 + 1 armor) Protects Arms, Torso, Legs
Hindrances:
Curiousity
Enemy: Koth Cult of Set
Bad Luck
Edges:
Thief
Assassin [poisoner]
Acrobatic
Powers (6 Power Points):
Poison: Cost 2 PP
Gear:
Hyrkanian Bow
Dagger
Leather Armor
Arrows, 20
Backpack
Lockpicks
Rope (50 ft.)
Grappling Hook
Background:
Curious for a Koth, Crius had wandered his way into trouble since a young age. He needed a peek inside every house, castle, and occasional the ladies bathouse. Who could blame him for stealing some shiny bits along the way? Growing up amongst the sprawling capital Khorshemish was the perfect place for the aspiring thief to hone his skills. Nomadic merchants bearing exotic trinkets and apple blossom wine would be miles into the Kothian deserts before noticing their missing merchandise.
And then there were the temples. Towering monoliths of marble and stone, adorned with tapestries of the richest colors. Crius wished he could sneak into their treasure troves but even a curious thief knows its bad luck drawing the scorn of Gods. But Crius learned from lips loosened by coin of a temple devoted to serpents and shadows hidden in an ancient crypt deep beneath the capital. Crius, curiosity aside of course, figured a temple below the surface wasn't a temple at all.
In perhaps his greatest display of subterfuge Crius snuck past the guards, avoiding rotting skulls and an artfully placed poisoned dart trap, and broke into the temple's vaults. Yet more prized to him than piles of silver was a package of parchment that had been locked away. Eager for arcane knowledge, Crius sat down and read. He'd barely finished the first chapter when a priest sounded the alarm. Barely escaping a barrage of sorcery and arrows, Crius fled the crypt and Khorshemish.
In time he read through those pages, learning poisonous arts only known to the highest authorities of Set. Always eager for adventure, Crius dreads the day his ill gotten knowledge might prove the most unlucky loot of his career.
