Dot.
Absalom, greatest of cities! This is the place where you can get anything and meet anyone. Anything at all. Anyone at all.
If you walk down its busy streets early in the morning, you can smell the delicious aroma of freshly baked bread coming from an unassuming little store, whose sign proclaims this to be the Whippoorwill Bakery. The proprietor, a handsome young human man by the name of Santori, is always happy to see someone come in, no matter whether they're old customers or new faces, and he traditionally greets any visitor at all with a 10% discount on any of his breads or pastries.
The Whippoorwill Bakery would probably do an even more thriving business if its owner did not close his shop and go on trips without prior notice. Still, he is such a nice young man, who always has a souvenir from his 'little holidays' for his favourite customers, that people take this in stride and keep coming back.
Little do the good people in the neighbourhood know that their always smiling, kindhearted neighbourhood baker's 'little holidays' are the times when he pursues his actual career as a merciless killer.
Santori isn't actually human; he is a Dhampir, who uses some basic disguising techniques to hide the tell-tale signs of his undead heritage. He is perfectly acclimatized to the daytime world, for he was born in the light, under the attention of priests. But these were not priests of Sarenrae or Pharasma; these were the priests of the dreaded Achaekek, hitmen of the gods. Born on Mediogalti Island to a Red Mantis Assassin whose assignment to assassinate a vampiric nobleman in Ustalav ran into some... 'difficulties', Santori has never known a normal life. He received endless drills in the use of the sawtooth sabre and the dagger as a youth, was taught to be perceptive and silent, and fully expected to either follow in his cold and distant mother's footsteps and join the Red Mantis -- or die in training.
Santori did not die in training. Although he was more combat-focused than most initiates his age, he passed his exams with flying colours (even earning a commendation for his skill with languages) and was sent out into the world to work for the good of the guild. For three years, he performed his duties to satisfaction. Initially, his assignments were all close to home, Mediogalti Island, since he was still considered to be inexperienced. Then the elders decided he was ready for a more long-term assignment, and they sent him to Absalom, to assassinate a priestess of Sivanah, goddess of illusions, who had made a nuisance of herself to someone who could afford the Red Mantis' rates.
A coffin was shipped back to Mediogalti Island. The pile of shredded meat and shattered bones inside looked to be roughly Santori's size and shape, the hair was the right colour, and the note accompanying it indicated some familiarity with Santori's origins. The elders had the pile of rotting offal buried in the jungle and selected a new agent to deal with the troublesome priestess. They were annoyed that what had seemed to be a promising agent had failed so badly, but no one actually grieved for Santori's loss. Especially not Santori, who was alive and well in Absalom.
The big city had amazed and bewildered the young assassin. The sheer variety of people and their customs had been overwhelming after his life to date, but he could probably have powered through that.
It was the bread that turned him from the path of the Red Mantis; the delicious scent of freshly-baked bread, which hit his nostrils while he was stalking his target early one morning. He simply couldn't help himself; he let his target walk away and strolled into a nice little bakery with a sign that said 'HELP WANTED. TRAINING ON THE JOB'.
At first, he tried to tell himself that he was establishing a cover identity to aid in his pursuit of the target, but that was too obvious a lie. Santori genuinely liked baking... The work was soothing, the results were delicious and brought him compliments and good cheer, which were all things in short supply at Mediogalti Island. He was well-aware that the Red Mantis' elders would be painfully angry if he delayed for too long, so he casually killed someone the right size in an alley, butchered the corpse and sent it back home.
Santori has been very happy in his life as a baker -- he opened his own little shop once his employer declared him as good a baker as any man -- but he joined an assassin's guild based out of Absalom. He felt it would be a shame to let his skills as an assassin go to waste, and he enjoys killing almost as much as baking. One condition he always insists on, however, is that he will not kill inside Absalom; all his targets must be outside the city, so there will be as little chance as possible of his enjoyable life as a baker being ruined. Now that he is no longer beholden to the Red Mantis, Santori feels free to enjoy his kills to the utmost. Rather than creep into people's homes and stab them in their sleep, he takes a wicked delight in attacking them in broad daylight, after which he flees pursuit from bodyguards or watchmen, testing his skills at acrobatics and stealth to their utmost. Santori's elders in the Absalom guild tolerate his flair for the theatrical with good cheer, since he's quite the success story. Besides, he always brings the most delectable pastries to the guild if they chide him...