The Wandering Assassin
By: Marmar
A walking contradiction. That's Avaliana's favorite description of herself. A hardened High Elf born in Silverwood but raised in the heat of Fortune's Shore. Hailing from a wealthy trading family, her father was a skilled sourcestone merchant while her mother's potionmaking made sure they always had food on the table. All that wealth did little to sway Avaliana from mingling with the lowly gangs of the city's back alleyways. She learned to be clever, to be cunning, to be deceptive. She became known as an avid pickpocket and thief in general, only to sell the stolen goods legitimately through her father's connections. It wasn't as though she needed to struggle to make money; Avaliana just loved the thrills.
Avaliana was poised to take a serious step into being involved with the up and coming Steeljaw gang before her father received an invitation to bring his trades to a new city – Port Scion. Nestled in the rich lands right between Silverwood and Freemarch, Port Scion promised to be a unifying gem between the two main factions of Telara...and that was an offer too sweet to miss out on. Despite her objections, Avaliana followed her parents to Port Scion.
Tranquil and bustling with commerce, Port Scion was what Fortune's Shore aspired to be. There were new technologies being created everyday, and the mounting horrors from the rifts remained well outside the city's walls. It was safe. It was...boring. How Avaliana missed the dangers from her home city. It was too quiet, too predictable a life for her and something her parents sought to remind her of any chance they could. There was no need to be street wise. There was no need to use conniving means to meet a quota. It was just safe.
For a time she forgot about her dark ways and focused on learning what her mother had mastered – the art of apothecary. Amazing when done right. Disastrous should Avaliana get it wrong. However, she took to the skill just ask fast as she had theft. The crafty side of her had not vanished completely however. Avalaina knew how to brew the best of healing potions and invigorating serums, but she also experimented with dark brews her mother had not thought to teach or warn her about. Potions that conjured flames ruthless enough to have come from the bowels of Maelforge. Death so potent a single vial could annihilate an entire household. Worse still is that the more successful she became at such potions, the more Avaliana wished to improve upon them. Plans to open a unique potions shop stirred in the elven maiden's mind. No more moving about. She'd settle in the lush port and start her own legacy in commerce.
All that changed the day Alsbeth lowered the city's defenses, unleashing Regulos' wrath upon its denizens. The screams from her neighbors were what stirred Avaliana to the chaos just outside her home. Tainted friends and business partners alike had turned into shells of their former selves, most rotting as they chased down others. A horrid chill bore down on the city as her mother suddenly screamed uncontrollably. The refined elven woman clawed at her own face and arms, the skin easily peeling off like worn cloth. She would not cease until much of her exposed body was marred, no matter how much Avaliana and her father tried to restrain her. Soon Ava's father began to do the same, cursing at some horrible voice he claimed to be hearing. Standing in horror was all Avaliana could do as her parents morphed into putrid corpses.
She tried to talk to them. She tried to get through to what tiny spec of life might still be there, but the Devourer had consumed it all. The corpses turned on their daughter, chasing her out to the streets where Avaliana could see the full effect of the devastation around her. Bodies everywhere, some moving and eating, others still screaming for blessed death. All at once, the elf turned to the walking dead that used to be her family, a look of intense focus upon her face. She would not follow, even with sweet promises infecting her ears. She would not embrace this wonderful form of eternal life. Drawing her daggers from her hips, Avaliana charged forward and sliced her mother's deformed head clean from the few pieces of tissue still binding it to the body. Her father roared in anger, swiping madly at her. Avaliana however continued to show impeccable composure as she fought her father's form, calculating each cut or stab to disable him further.
“They will pay for this, Father, Mother,†she whispered before driving the dagger right through her father's head. “I will see to it that whoever has unleashed this terrible fate upon you will know the most unbearable of pain before they pass into the soulstream.â€
Now a proud and resourceful Ascended, Avaliana of Fortune's Shore seeks to keep that vow, using her small business as a trader to gather information. Not just on the Endless, but on all cults. There are others who have suffered at the hands of these monsters, others who have lost lives and loved ones due to the cultists' selfish goals. And Avaliana will not rest until she has done the Vigil's bidding and purged their utopia of this menace.