I had a name once, same as everyone else, but after one glorious night of murder, it was no longer safe to use.
Small sacrifice for ensuring my sister’s safety, I figured. So now I don’t use one. In my line of work, it’s not necessary anyway. What is my line of work? Murder, of course, though I fancy myself more than just an assassin. Gentleman, thief, wine connoisseur, adventurer, a man of a thousand names and none. I’m all of those things and more.
My life was about as normal as one could hope when one particular job came along. Kill the artificer, steal the plans, make an exchange. Simple enough, until a band of fanatical priests ambushed and tried to kill me. Turns out the plans have something to do with a source of dark energy. The priests aren’t the only ones interested in it, either. I’ve no interest in being a hero, but I’ll do whatever I have to do to keep my city—and my sister—safe.
There’s already blood on my hands. What’s a little more?