Emma Sharpe
|
[edit]
Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Etiam pretium at magna nec volutpat. Ut et fermentum erat, a eleifend justo. Nunc facilisis tellus sem, at suscipit nunc semper sit amet. Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Cras vehicula vehicula risus vitae molestie. Mauris dui dui, rhoncus vitae lacus vitae, varius blandit metus. Maecenas ipsum justo, varius at tortor sit amet, scelerisque elementum arcu. Maecenas consectetur libero in mi molestie facilisis. Nam nec lectus pellentesque, ullamcorper tellus semper, sollicitudin nulla. Nam eget nulla sed nulla tincidunt ultrices quis a sapien. Ut faucibus bibendum nulla, ut ultrices dolor convallis in. Nam efficitur dui nec dolor pretium tempor. Nam tempor vestibulum eros, sed eleifend odio congue quis. Duis laoreet sodales augue, at mollis risus malesuada et.
Approximately 5' 3", shoulder length brown hair, Emma is very good at not standing out in a crowd, unless she wants to.
Aspects That Stand Out:
Money is everything in Ul’dah; power, comfort, most of all it’s a measure of your moral worth. If you’re poor, the thinking goes, it’s because you’re too lazy or too stupid to make something of yourself.
Emma was born poor. Her mother was a street vendor, addict, and casual prostitute; her father was probably one of her mother’s boyfriends or customers. Emma grew up in the streets, running with one of the numerous gangs of street urchins. Quiet and unobtrusive, she excelled at petty theft, pickpocketing, and courier work for gangs of older criminals. She was also adept at settling scores and petty squabbles with fists, feet, and the occasional knife. Old Bob was a plodding, shuffling drunk. The old man claimed to have a been a priest of Nadthal, not that anyone believed him. During intermissions of relative sobriety he picked up a few coins by teaching the neighborhood children the rudiments of reading and writing. Emma got some lessons of a different sort. The old drunk wasn’t much of a mage, but he could still teach a promising student a few tricks. “The real magic’s not the stuff they stuff they peddle at the guilds,” he would tell her, “It’s out in the world. You gotta find it for yourself.” Puberty hit with the force of a hammer and seemingly overnight the skinny urchin was attracting attention of a different sort. Compared to life on the street, the pillowhouse in the Fronds was unbelievably luxurious. Regular meals, clean clothes, and more coin than she’d ever seen. The owners of the pillowhouse had their own ambitions so there were lessons in deportment, makeup, and other skills designed to attract a better paying class of customer. The pillowhouse owners squeezed their employees as well as their customers and Emma watched her wages dwindle as the charges mounted - food, lodging, classes, clothing - all at exorbitant prices. She’d be out on the streets with nothing but debts once she stopped attracting customers. A childhood of thievery came in handy as small valuables started to occasionally disappear, there were suspicions and searches, but nothing was ever found and the lessons on pleasing customers had made her a smooth liar and plausible actress quite capable of deflecting suspicion onto others. It was to the displeasure of the pillowhouse owners when Emma announced she would not be renewing her contract and produced a sufficient sum to pay off her debts. They scowled and argued but the coin was sufficient and even the notary could do no more than agree the debt was paid. So it was that Emma Sharpe found herself in rented rooms in a modestly respectable part of town with a small store of coin and boundless ambition. Her hands were quick, she was still attractive, she was good with a knife or a spell, and she was going to be respectable and rich, no matter what it took.
Pleasant, tells you what you want to hear.
|
Error creating thumbnail: File missing
Template made by User:Abelia Kir Armiger and free for use! |
