Thorne
10-10-12, 03:13 PM
Name: Rickard Thorne
Age: 33 years old
Race: Human
Hair: The thief keeps his hair cut short, lying in messy black quills, though his hood is almost always covering most of his head.
Eyes: Thorne's eyes are mismatched; his right eye being a deep, jade green, his left being dull, cold blue. He claims his right eye can pick out the most valuable loot in a dragon's hoard with a single glance.
Height: 5' 9''
Weight: 147 lbs
Occupation: Thief
Skills: Acrobatics, appraising, deception, climbing, lock picking, trap disabling, escaping bonds, heightened perception, knowledge of local inhabitants and laws in a variety of countries and cities, moving quickly while sneaking, sleight of hand, pickpocketing, trapfinding.
In short, all of the things that Thorne needs to succeed in his profession. And make no mistake, Thorne does succeed in his work.
Abilities: Lightning reflexes- whether dodging a sword swing, or an arrow from a trap, Thorne has honed his reflexes to levels above most humans. It's fair to say Thorne's reflexes are at least twice that of any normal man.
Judging motives- While far from lethal, Thorne's work in the underworld of society has granted him a better sense of those he encounters- what they want, what they're willing to do for it, etc. His keen eyes, and keener mind can get a judge of someone in moments, and as they say, knowledge is power. This makes it that much harder to catch Thorne off guard (surprise attacks, and the like).
Dirty fighting- Thorne is not often forced to fight; rather, he prefers to avoid his opponents entirely. But, when needs must, the thief can use every nasty trick at his disposal to major effect. From dust in the eyes, to kicks below the belt, to hamstringing his enemies before running away- it may not be honourable, but you know what they say about thieves.
Appearance: Unique features do little to help someone in Thorne's line of work: They just make it easier for authorities to identify you. Luckily, Thorne is completely average looking. Aside from his mismatched eyes, and one or two scars, the thief is, in a word, bland. Yes, there are some who have called him handsome, if only just, but not many can really recall him after they have laid eyes on him. Standing at average height, with a lean build, and pale skin so common to humans everywhere, he could pass for any of a thousand men.
The thief, in the course of his career, has toned his body into a wolf-lean frame, with muscles enough to support his more.. athletic pursuits, without hampering his natural dexterity. Speed and nimbleness are much preferred to brute strength- which also means Thorne is not built for combat: Sure, if they don't see him coming, he'll do peachy, but in a long protracted fight... even Thorne would probably bet against himself. His natural dexterity helps him avoid blows, should it come to that. This being said, Thorne still bears a few scars from jobs gone wrong, brutal law-enforcement and a harsh upbringing. The most noticeable of these is the faded white line running from just under his hairline, down over his right eye- a reminder from leaving the Thieves Guild.
Personality: Despite his chosen profession, Thorne has morals. Yes, they may be a lot.. looser than other peoples', but they're there.
Obviously laws hold little sway for him, but he is no mindless thug. He will gladly steal from the rich, to give to himself- "redistributing the wealth", as he puts it- and he can be hired to steal items for those with the coin to pay him. A true opportunist. But he dislikes killing, especially while working. He deems it unprofessional, and messy: If he does his job properly, he says, no-one will even know he's been there. Make no mistake, though, if someone comes at the thief with hostile intent, Thorne will see them dead.
He is a cynic, born and bred, with a deep understanding and vast experience of the world and its multifarious flaws. When viewed by others, he seems rather taciturn, and most people do not appreciate his dark sense of humour, if they ever see it at all. His intelligence, and wits manage to alienate him from the vast majority, who dislike his shrewd perception in regards to their motivations.
But, while self-preservation and profit are the order of the day, the thief will help those he's working with and can be considered as loyal as anyone in his line of work could be expected to be.
Usual Garments and Armour: The thief's attire rarely, if ever, changes. His clothes are durable, comfortable, and well-suited for his work. He usually wears three layers; thick, more sturdy over-clothes, armour, and finally, thin under-clothes. These extra layers may make him uncomfortably warm in certain climes, but he is more than used to it, and the benefits far outweigh the drawbacks.
His clothing is tailored for blending in with either urban, or woodland surroundings, the bland and mottled grey-black melting into surrounding shadows. This suit comprises of comfortable trousers, a pair of padded-sole boots, a tunic and cowled hood. Thorne had stitched extra pockets, for stashing loot and other items he doesn't want easily discovered. The fact the articles in question are made to fit loosely (without hampering movement) makes it easier to conceal things underneath.
His suit of leather armour is mainly worn underneath his clothing, on top of the thinner under-shirt and trousers for comfort, and possibly to give the impression of being defenseless- the thief has never proferred an opinion, but theories abound as to luring in marks for cons or muggings.
The leather has been dyed the same mottled grey-black as the rest of his ensemble, and even though it is usually concealed under his other clothes, Thorne meticulously ensures all buckles are secreted between plates, to avoid reflecting any rays of light. Better to be safe than sorry. Only two parts of the suit are worn over the clothes, effectively sealing off the baggy sleeves and legs of his trousers- his bracers and fingerless gloves, and the boiled leather greaves.
Weapons: Thorne does not like to rely on his weapons, especially when on a job, but he knows he would be a fool not to have them. As the old adage goes, he would rather have his weapons and not need them, than need them and not have them.
The first and foremost weapon in the thief's little arsenal is the steel dagger sheathed at the small of his back. The slender, double-edged blade is blackened to avoid reflecting any odd glints of sunlight, and kept razor-keen. The narrow dagger is perfect for slipping between the slats of a locked wooden shutter... or between the plates of a guard's armour. It may be messy, but Thorne's is a dirty line of business, and sometimes removal of such an obstacle in this manner is a necessity.
A second dagger is kept in a sheath in Thorne's right boot; decidedly more utilitarian than his primary, this dagger has a simple wooden handle, with a blackened, leaf-shaped steel blade, and perfect balance. Thorne falls back on this blade to deal with close-range threats, too far for his main dagger, too close for his shortbow. Its balance makes it an ideal throwing weapon.
Another weapon Thorne always keeps close to hand is his oak shortbow. This recurve bow is well used, though most often against hostile targets in the direst circumstances to prevent an alarm being sounded. He has also been known to use it for securing rope across large gaps, whether between buildings, or across moats. When not working in a professional capacity, the thief uses it to devastating effect, pinpointing targets' weak points, killing them from the shadows.
The final tool in the thief's arsenal is the oak sap hanging from a leather cord at his belt. This short club, its naturally dark wood, and steel studs embedded in its length, are all soot-blackened to avoid reflecting light. It's a simple weapon, a length of wood, with studs along the business end, and a leather-wrapped handle. Used for quietly knocking out guards, sentries, or anyone who may pose a potential problem, this weapon- while non-lethal- sees more use than nearly any other weapon at Thorne's disposal.
Inventory: Backpack, 2x belt pouches, 50ft silk rope, flint and steel, thieves' tools (lockpicks, etc), whetstone, 10sp, dice, deck of playing cards
History: Thorne. A name respected amongst the seedier denizens of countless cities, despised by the authorities up and down the length of Althanas, and praised by those who have paid for his services. A reputation hard earned, but well deserved. Thorne's history is, for the most part, largely unknown to any but himself. If he ever tells it, it is in the shortest way possible- "Born a thief, been that way since."
In truth, the thief known as Rickard Thorne hails from rather inauspicious beginnings- he was born in the nation of Alerar, so-called technological marvel of the world, in the capital of Ettermire, thirty-three years ago. He doesn't really remember his parents or siblings much, other than the fact he had them. And as far as he can tell, they didn't miss him much when he left: Thorne was always a.. problematic child; helping himself to food and shiny trinkets from the city's inhabitants, lifting them from merchant stalls, or peoples' purses. He was caught often enough, and punished by the victim of his petty thefts, and by his parents, much as any child. But, unlike most children, someone saw the eight-year-old child's antics and saw potential.
This person was a Dark Elf by the name of Seraph- obviously a pseudonym, but the only name Thorne ever knew him by- a higher-up in one of the city's many Thieves' Guild guildhouses. Seraph was, as he put it, "in charge of the kennels". This meant he found and adopted any children he saw with the spark, with the aptitude for a life in thievery. Thorne, as he was told, was lucky to be offered the opportunity.
The next ten years that followed did not make the boy feel anything near lucky. Gruelling training, endless exercises, summary beatings for failure, and through it all, the stories of those that failed one too many times being fished out of the harbour. Ignoring the mind-numbing repetition, the constant fear of punishment, and the ever-watchful eyes of the resident Thieves' Guild, Thorne remembers these years as some of the best of his life. He quickly advanced far beyond the skills of his other "classmates". In no time, the teen was a full-fledged guild member, complete with all the skills, secrets and techniques of his Guild, and able to speak both Tradespeak and Drow fluently.
By this time, Seraph had risen to the rank of Guildmaster, commanding the entire guildhouse, including his protegé Thorne. The young thief was quickly thrown out into the field, earning his dues for the Guild. The thrill of this was vastly appealing to Thorne, avoiding capture by the guards of the city, stealing into the houses of the rich and poor alike to clean them out of valuables. He earned his dues weekly with ne'er a hitch, but as his skills grew, so did the extortionate fees demanded of him. Time went on, and Thorne grew more and more disillusioned with the Guild. They kept throwing jobs at him, and no matter how outlandish the work, Thorne pulled it off almost flawlessly. From the Alerar, to Corone, to Salvar, and further afield besides. This travelling gave him a decent knowledge of local laws, where to go for rumours, and where to find the best fences in many cities, but no real satisfaction; knowing most of his loot would go to the wages of the less worthy members, and even more useless Guild Masters put a bit of a dampener on his enjoyment.
There was only one problem- Seraph.
As his protegé's reputation grew within the guildhouse, Seraph grew more and more paranoid; it was only a matter of time before Thorne decided he could replace his master! It was the only logical outcome- betrayal!
Truth be told, nothing could be further from Thorne's mind- he was swiftly coming to hate the Guild. But, he still obeyed Seraph when he gave the thief a job. It seemed simple enough; break into the Wizard's Supplies store, and steal an amulet for his boss. The pay was decent for such an easy task, and the risk was low. Or so Thorne thought. It wasn't until he had the loot in hand, that the doors burst open, and in flooded the Dark Elf city-guard, catching the thief red-handed. One word burned into Thorne's mind in that second- SET-UP!!
In the months that followed, spent rotting away in a stinking dungeon, the thief ran it through his mind time and again, but could only come up with the one outcome- Seraph, his mentor and the closest he had to a friend, had betrayed him. For a thief of his calibre, it wasn't difficult to escape the pleasant little vision of hell he currently inhabited (though the steam-powered sentinels patrolling the deeper reaches were... troublesome), and in no time he was back in the shadowy back-alleys of his home city. Rumours were flying about him in the shadowy underworld of the city, but only one thing was certain- Seraph had sold him out to keep his position at the top of the Guild foodchain. Now, while usually the time-honoured principles of logic and rationality ruled his mind, Thorne did the stupidest thing he could, given the circumstances- he paid Seraph a visit. The Dark Elf was "so happy to see him," and "knew a smart boy like him wouldn't believe the lies about Seraph's involvement in his capture".
What happened after in the Guildmaster's personal chambers will never be known to anyone, except Thorne and Seraph. What is known is that the young man wanted to leave the Guild, to be free to do his work without dealing with the talentless cut-throat bastards who shared the name "Thieves".
Needless to say, this was not met with approval by Seraph. The scar over Thorne's right eye is rumoured to be from what occured in the room, and though none have seen him since, it is whispered that Seraph has a scar to match it. After that night, Thorne found it prudent to leave Ettermire, and he hasn't returned since then.
It was, much to his muted disappointment, not over though: The first assassins came nearly three months later.
They caught up to him in Corone. Thorne had known he was being hunted from the first night they started- one didn't spend more than a decade in the Thieves' Guild without watching one's back. But he knew his skills were in evasion, not confrontation. And so he ran, and hid. But they were good, whoever Seraph had sent- after all, he had all the ill-gotten gain his underlings brought him to pay for the best killers. And so, in the 'Lusty Kobolds' tavern, they cornered the thief. The three black-clad murderers advanced into the building.
Many versions of this tale are told in the ports of Corone, especially in the 'Lusty Kobolds' tavern- of the thief who turned invisible and ran; of the mighty swordsman in the hood, who duelled and killed all three assailants in seconds; of the thief who turned into a monster and destroyed the bar... yes, many drunken tales, but the truth, as always, is far less impressive.
In truth, Thorne did what he had been trained to do: He stole. When the assassins entered the bar, disguised as the sailors who so often frequented these places, Thorne stole past them in the crowds, passing them a good few times heading back and forth from the bar, as one headed out the back door for a piss. After ten minutes, he had stripped the men of most of the weapons they carried, before finally leaving the tavern as fast as he could without drawing attention. By the time the men realised what had happened, Thorne was already on a ship leaving the city. Even as far as the regular Guild haunts in Scara Brae, the thief has heard rumours of the torture Seraph heaped upon the assassins who returned to him empty-handed. It still brings a wry grin to his face.
And this? This is Thorne as he is today. He travels where he wills, stealing from any and all, rigging gambling games from bar patrons, and being hired for the thefts of precious gems, gold, and much more... esoteric items. But, a man as smart as him knows to keep moving, that to stay in any one place for long is to let Seraph finally catch him, and finish what they started seven years ago. That his former mentor so fervently wants him dead (coincidentally by granting the Dark Elf exactly what he wanted) simply amuses Thorne.
There really is no honour among thieves.
Age: 33 years old
Race: Human
Hair: The thief keeps his hair cut short, lying in messy black quills, though his hood is almost always covering most of his head.
Eyes: Thorne's eyes are mismatched; his right eye being a deep, jade green, his left being dull, cold blue. He claims his right eye can pick out the most valuable loot in a dragon's hoard with a single glance.
Height: 5' 9''
Weight: 147 lbs
Occupation: Thief
Skills: Acrobatics, appraising, deception, climbing, lock picking, trap disabling, escaping bonds, heightened perception, knowledge of local inhabitants and laws in a variety of countries and cities, moving quickly while sneaking, sleight of hand, pickpocketing, trapfinding.
In short, all of the things that Thorne needs to succeed in his profession. And make no mistake, Thorne does succeed in his work.
Abilities: Lightning reflexes- whether dodging a sword swing, or an arrow from a trap, Thorne has honed his reflexes to levels above most humans. It's fair to say Thorne's reflexes are at least twice that of any normal man.
Judging motives- While far from lethal, Thorne's work in the underworld of society has granted him a better sense of those he encounters- what they want, what they're willing to do for it, etc. His keen eyes, and keener mind can get a judge of someone in moments, and as they say, knowledge is power. This makes it that much harder to catch Thorne off guard (surprise attacks, and the like).
Dirty fighting- Thorne is not often forced to fight; rather, he prefers to avoid his opponents entirely. But, when needs must, the thief can use every nasty trick at his disposal to major effect. From dust in the eyes, to kicks below the belt, to hamstringing his enemies before running away- it may not be honourable, but you know what they say about thieves.
Appearance: Unique features do little to help someone in Thorne's line of work: They just make it easier for authorities to identify you. Luckily, Thorne is completely average looking. Aside from his mismatched eyes, and one or two scars, the thief is, in a word, bland. Yes, there are some who have called him handsome, if only just, but not many can really recall him after they have laid eyes on him. Standing at average height, with a lean build, and pale skin so common to humans everywhere, he could pass for any of a thousand men.
The thief, in the course of his career, has toned his body into a wolf-lean frame, with muscles enough to support his more.. athletic pursuits, without hampering his natural dexterity. Speed and nimbleness are much preferred to brute strength- which also means Thorne is not built for combat: Sure, if they don't see him coming, he'll do peachy, but in a long protracted fight... even Thorne would probably bet against himself. His natural dexterity helps him avoid blows, should it come to that. This being said, Thorne still bears a few scars from jobs gone wrong, brutal law-enforcement and a harsh upbringing. The most noticeable of these is the faded white line running from just under his hairline, down over his right eye- a reminder from leaving the Thieves Guild.
Personality: Despite his chosen profession, Thorne has morals. Yes, they may be a lot.. looser than other peoples', but they're there.
Obviously laws hold little sway for him, but he is no mindless thug. He will gladly steal from the rich, to give to himself- "redistributing the wealth", as he puts it- and he can be hired to steal items for those with the coin to pay him. A true opportunist. But he dislikes killing, especially while working. He deems it unprofessional, and messy: If he does his job properly, he says, no-one will even know he's been there. Make no mistake, though, if someone comes at the thief with hostile intent, Thorne will see them dead.
He is a cynic, born and bred, with a deep understanding and vast experience of the world and its multifarious flaws. When viewed by others, he seems rather taciturn, and most people do not appreciate his dark sense of humour, if they ever see it at all. His intelligence, and wits manage to alienate him from the vast majority, who dislike his shrewd perception in regards to their motivations.
But, while self-preservation and profit are the order of the day, the thief will help those he's working with and can be considered as loyal as anyone in his line of work could be expected to be.
Usual Garments and Armour: The thief's attire rarely, if ever, changes. His clothes are durable, comfortable, and well-suited for his work. He usually wears three layers; thick, more sturdy over-clothes, armour, and finally, thin under-clothes. These extra layers may make him uncomfortably warm in certain climes, but he is more than used to it, and the benefits far outweigh the drawbacks.
His clothing is tailored for blending in with either urban, or woodland surroundings, the bland and mottled grey-black melting into surrounding shadows. This suit comprises of comfortable trousers, a pair of padded-sole boots, a tunic and cowled hood. Thorne had stitched extra pockets, for stashing loot and other items he doesn't want easily discovered. The fact the articles in question are made to fit loosely (without hampering movement) makes it easier to conceal things underneath.
His suit of leather armour is mainly worn underneath his clothing, on top of the thinner under-shirt and trousers for comfort, and possibly to give the impression of being defenseless- the thief has never proferred an opinion, but theories abound as to luring in marks for cons or muggings.
The leather has been dyed the same mottled grey-black as the rest of his ensemble, and even though it is usually concealed under his other clothes, Thorne meticulously ensures all buckles are secreted between plates, to avoid reflecting any rays of light. Better to be safe than sorry. Only two parts of the suit are worn over the clothes, effectively sealing off the baggy sleeves and legs of his trousers- his bracers and fingerless gloves, and the boiled leather greaves.
Weapons: Thorne does not like to rely on his weapons, especially when on a job, but he knows he would be a fool not to have them. As the old adage goes, he would rather have his weapons and not need them, than need them and not have them.
The first and foremost weapon in the thief's little arsenal is the steel dagger sheathed at the small of his back. The slender, double-edged blade is blackened to avoid reflecting any odd glints of sunlight, and kept razor-keen. The narrow dagger is perfect for slipping between the slats of a locked wooden shutter... or between the plates of a guard's armour. It may be messy, but Thorne's is a dirty line of business, and sometimes removal of such an obstacle in this manner is a necessity.
A second dagger is kept in a sheath in Thorne's right boot; decidedly more utilitarian than his primary, this dagger has a simple wooden handle, with a blackened, leaf-shaped steel blade, and perfect balance. Thorne falls back on this blade to deal with close-range threats, too far for his main dagger, too close for his shortbow. Its balance makes it an ideal throwing weapon.
Another weapon Thorne always keeps close to hand is his oak shortbow. This recurve bow is well used, though most often against hostile targets in the direst circumstances to prevent an alarm being sounded. He has also been known to use it for securing rope across large gaps, whether between buildings, or across moats. When not working in a professional capacity, the thief uses it to devastating effect, pinpointing targets' weak points, killing them from the shadows.
The final tool in the thief's arsenal is the oak sap hanging from a leather cord at his belt. This short club, its naturally dark wood, and steel studs embedded in its length, are all soot-blackened to avoid reflecting light. It's a simple weapon, a length of wood, with studs along the business end, and a leather-wrapped handle. Used for quietly knocking out guards, sentries, or anyone who may pose a potential problem, this weapon- while non-lethal- sees more use than nearly any other weapon at Thorne's disposal.
Inventory: Backpack, 2x belt pouches, 50ft silk rope, flint and steel, thieves' tools (lockpicks, etc), whetstone, 10sp, dice, deck of playing cards
History: Thorne. A name respected amongst the seedier denizens of countless cities, despised by the authorities up and down the length of Althanas, and praised by those who have paid for his services. A reputation hard earned, but well deserved. Thorne's history is, for the most part, largely unknown to any but himself. If he ever tells it, it is in the shortest way possible- "Born a thief, been that way since."
In truth, the thief known as Rickard Thorne hails from rather inauspicious beginnings- he was born in the nation of Alerar, so-called technological marvel of the world, in the capital of Ettermire, thirty-three years ago. He doesn't really remember his parents or siblings much, other than the fact he had them. And as far as he can tell, they didn't miss him much when he left: Thorne was always a.. problematic child; helping himself to food and shiny trinkets from the city's inhabitants, lifting them from merchant stalls, or peoples' purses. He was caught often enough, and punished by the victim of his petty thefts, and by his parents, much as any child. But, unlike most children, someone saw the eight-year-old child's antics and saw potential.
This person was a Dark Elf by the name of Seraph- obviously a pseudonym, but the only name Thorne ever knew him by- a higher-up in one of the city's many Thieves' Guild guildhouses. Seraph was, as he put it, "in charge of the kennels". This meant he found and adopted any children he saw with the spark, with the aptitude for a life in thievery. Thorne, as he was told, was lucky to be offered the opportunity.
The next ten years that followed did not make the boy feel anything near lucky. Gruelling training, endless exercises, summary beatings for failure, and through it all, the stories of those that failed one too many times being fished out of the harbour. Ignoring the mind-numbing repetition, the constant fear of punishment, and the ever-watchful eyes of the resident Thieves' Guild, Thorne remembers these years as some of the best of his life. He quickly advanced far beyond the skills of his other "classmates". In no time, the teen was a full-fledged guild member, complete with all the skills, secrets and techniques of his Guild, and able to speak both Tradespeak and Drow fluently.
By this time, Seraph had risen to the rank of Guildmaster, commanding the entire guildhouse, including his protegé Thorne. The young thief was quickly thrown out into the field, earning his dues for the Guild. The thrill of this was vastly appealing to Thorne, avoiding capture by the guards of the city, stealing into the houses of the rich and poor alike to clean them out of valuables. He earned his dues weekly with ne'er a hitch, but as his skills grew, so did the extortionate fees demanded of him. Time went on, and Thorne grew more and more disillusioned with the Guild. They kept throwing jobs at him, and no matter how outlandish the work, Thorne pulled it off almost flawlessly. From the Alerar, to Corone, to Salvar, and further afield besides. This travelling gave him a decent knowledge of local laws, where to go for rumours, and where to find the best fences in many cities, but no real satisfaction; knowing most of his loot would go to the wages of the less worthy members, and even more useless Guild Masters put a bit of a dampener on his enjoyment.
There was only one problem- Seraph.
As his protegé's reputation grew within the guildhouse, Seraph grew more and more paranoid; it was only a matter of time before Thorne decided he could replace his master! It was the only logical outcome- betrayal!
Truth be told, nothing could be further from Thorne's mind- he was swiftly coming to hate the Guild. But, he still obeyed Seraph when he gave the thief a job. It seemed simple enough; break into the Wizard's Supplies store, and steal an amulet for his boss. The pay was decent for such an easy task, and the risk was low. Or so Thorne thought. It wasn't until he had the loot in hand, that the doors burst open, and in flooded the Dark Elf city-guard, catching the thief red-handed. One word burned into Thorne's mind in that second- SET-UP!!
In the months that followed, spent rotting away in a stinking dungeon, the thief ran it through his mind time and again, but could only come up with the one outcome- Seraph, his mentor and the closest he had to a friend, had betrayed him. For a thief of his calibre, it wasn't difficult to escape the pleasant little vision of hell he currently inhabited (though the steam-powered sentinels patrolling the deeper reaches were... troublesome), and in no time he was back in the shadowy back-alleys of his home city. Rumours were flying about him in the shadowy underworld of the city, but only one thing was certain- Seraph had sold him out to keep his position at the top of the Guild foodchain. Now, while usually the time-honoured principles of logic and rationality ruled his mind, Thorne did the stupidest thing he could, given the circumstances- he paid Seraph a visit. The Dark Elf was "so happy to see him," and "knew a smart boy like him wouldn't believe the lies about Seraph's involvement in his capture".
What happened after in the Guildmaster's personal chambers will never be known to anyone, except Thorne and Seraph. What is known is that the young man wanted to leave the Guild, to be free to do his work without dealing with the talentless cut-throat bastards who shared the name "Thieves".
Needless to say, this was not met with approval by Seraph. The scar over Thorne's right eye is rumoured to be from what occured in the room, and though none have seen him since, it is whispered that Seraph has a scar to match it. After that night, Thorne found it prudent to leave Ettermire, and he hasn't returned since then.
It was, much to his muted disappointment, not over though: The first assassins came nearly three months later.
They caught up to him in Corone. Thorne had known he was being hunted from the first night they started- one didn't spend more than a decade in the Thieves' Guild without watching one's back. But he knew his skills were in evasion, not confrontation. And so he ran, and hid. But they were good, whoever Seraph had sent- after all, he had all the ill-gotten gain his underlings brought him to pay for the best killers. And so, in the 'Lusty Kobolds' tavern, they cornered the thief. The three black-clad murderers advanced into the building.
Many versions of this tale are told in the ports of Corone, especially in the 'Lusty Kobolds' tavern- of the thief who turned invisible and ran; of the mighty swordsman in the hood, who duelled and killed all three assailants in seconds; of the thief who turned into a monster and destroyed the bar... yes, many drunken tales, but the truth, as always, is far less impressive.
In truth, Thorne did what he had been trained to do: He stole. When the assassins entered the bar, disguised as the sailors who so often frequented these places, Thorne stole past them in the crowds, passing them a good few times heading back and forth from the bar, as one headed out the back door for a piss. After ten minutes, he had stripped the men of most of the weapons they carried, before finally leaving the tavern as fast as he could without drawing attention. By the time the men realised what had happened, Thorne was already on a ship leaving the city. Even as far as the regular Guild haunts in Scara Brae, the thief has heard rumours of the torture Seraph heaped upon the assassins who returned to him empty-handed. It still brings a wry grin to his face.
And this? This is Thorne as he is today. He travels where he wills, stealing from any and all, rigging gambling games from bar patrons, and being hired for the thefts of precious gems, gold, and much more... esoteric items. But, a man as smart as him knows to keep moving, that to stay in any one place for long is to let Seraph finally catch him, and finish what they started seven years ago. That his former mentor so fervently wants him dead (coincidentally by granting the Dark Elf exactly what he wanted) simply amuses Thorne.
There really is no honour among thieves.