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Author Topic: Alfred Dare (character draft)  (Read 657 times)

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Offline Alfred Dare

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Alfred Dare (character draft)
« on: June 22, 2016, 03:10:41 AM »
I don't have time for a full sheet at the moment, and just want to hop into the playground. I'll finish building this guy out into a full sheet as I find the time and post it officially. I wouldn't mind some input now though, it's been a really long time since I made my last character in this setting.

Player: Used to go by Loïc Nicolayic, years ago; you could also just call me Robert.

Name: Alfred Dare

Origin: Tarsis, Andúnë
Race: Human
Gender: Male
Age: 48
Profession: Former Butler
Class: Assassin

Alignment: Lawful Neutral

Alfred's loyalty is to his master, not a government. And that loyalty is earned, not merely bought. This leaves him in a tough spot, as his master was recently assassinated, and his "moral compass" is spinning freely.


Alfred is a middle-aged man who is just starting to show signs of aging. Being an upper-class servant kept him healthy and well fed to this point. But there are signs of gray in his stubble, and his temples are a solid silver. Alfred's eyes are pale blue, halfway between haunting and bland, with crows feet at their outer edges. His hair, the rest of it, is still a rich brown that has thinned a bit on his forehead.

Mr Dare looks very much like other butlers. His posture is very straight, his expression disinterested yet uncannily attentive to every detail. His clothing are all well cared for and mended, obviously more worn since his recent dismissal.

Alfred's clothes are now a mix of tan, brown, and his old standby, black. His shirt is tan, his pants a light brown, and only the vest is black. His traveling cloak is brown and has seen better days, at least one slash has been mended on the left arm, and several holes the size of an arrow shaft have pockmarked the cape over his back.

Should you see him in his other work, Alfred dresses in form fitting dark navy clothes. He rarely wears armor, and when he does it only covers the vitals. His leather armor shows its age through many scratches and subtle texture damage, but it has been meticulously cared for.


Alfred is not one to share his mind with arrogant, or self-important people. Nobles don't want his opinion unless they've asked for it, and unless you've earned a place as a friend—well then, it's strict formalities. His jobs, both of them, never let Alfred form attachments or friendships. Because of long years of practice, his aloofness is almost natural. Beyond the aloof demeanor lies a man of undying loyalty, and half processed guilt. Friend? Duty was higher, and often a friend could have been someone he'd have to kill later.

Sometimes Alfred's aloofness comes across rudely. Such rudeness is always in an oblique, deprecating manner. It often questions one's intelligence or competence.

Alfred is sympathetic to all servants, lower-class, and slaves. Being one of those "in the background" for all his life means that he automatically understands and appreciates others. It doesn't really break his aloof demeanor, but he does go a little out of his way to make their day better, if he can.

Without a master to direct him, Alfred feels rather lost. Freedom is a concept he'd never considered.


Lord Grant's first seal; an old, cracked bronze seal bearing the Foster family crest. It's only real value is sentimental. It does identify Alfred as being a former servant of the Foster family.

Weaponry: Katar, dagger, and repeating crossbow.

Armor: The most basic leather armor.

Clothes: Clothes that mark Alfred as "upper servant" class, a traveling cloak, plus dark comfortable clothes for him to do his work in.

Poisons: A leather roll containing many small glass ampules containing some of the most powerful poisons in Entar. Each is carefully wrapped in a small cloth, and the roll itself is padded for protection.

Alfred carries most his possessions in a traveling pack, which also contains basic traveling gear just in case he needs to camp by himself while traveling.


Butler-related, such as household/staff management, etc. Alfred has mastered these skills over thirty years serving as Lord Foster's personal butler. He ought to be good by now, even if that was only a cover.

Poisons, which he often uses to kill or sicken, as required. He knows how to brew his own poisons, appraise a poison, identify them, and prepare counter toxins.

Ambushing, when using a poison without violence is not possible. Almost all Alfred's combat skills relate to preparing an ambush, and striking down his foe in one clean blow. He cannot withstand a concentrated attack, and nor would he want to. Sometimes he uses poisons in concert with his weapons to ensure that even a near miss incapacitates his foe.

Hand-to-hand, when the fight gets messy and up close and personal, Alfred can give almost as good as he gets. That said, his skills revolve mainly around defense—long enough that he could get a blow in with one of his weapons.


Alfred's primary strengths lie in being totally unsuspected. He operates based on stealth and surprise. If he can, he'll use a poison and a situation such that no one knows that he was present. If necessary, he'll resort to an ambush with one of his weapons and a paralyzing toxin.

Another strength is the strength of his cover. Thirty years as a butler has left a permanent imprint upon him, and one would not readily suspect him of being a cold-hearted killer. Those skills could also serve well in social situations, perhaps landing him a job.

Alfred's weaknesses revolve around the same strength he relies upon: surprise. If he relies upon striking his target with a dagger and misses, or his quarry spots him, the game is up. Alfred cannot stand toe-to-toe with a skilled warrior. Further, while he can probably take a hit his age is beginning to catch up with him, which limits his stamina.

And Alfred's butler cover is good—so long as no one unmasks him and discovers his identity. Should his reputation as an assassin be linked to him personally, it'd be over in short order.


"Sit down Alfred," Lord Cade Foster ordered, gesturing at a chair by the fire, "If I had held you responsible for my father's death, your corpse would be sinking in the Azrae by now."

Alfred moved to the chair and hesitated for the briefest of moments. He sat abruptly when he saw Lord Cade's eyes narrow. He stopped himself through sheer force of will, from mentioning the dust on the end-table beside his chair. That wasn't his duty any longer, he reminded himself.

"You served my father for thirty years, Alfred. If you had reason to want him dead, I'm certain you would have acted on it by now. I would like to know your opinion of how it was done."

Alfred hesitated again. Lord Cade was the eldest son of Grant, the former Lord Foster. Alfred had known the man since he was but a child, helped raise him even. Did Lord Cade—

"Yes, I know of your other duties!" Lord Cade snapped, "Now please, your opinion."

"When it became clear that milord had been poisoned, I ensured that I was the one to remove his drink and plate. I took them to the kitchen in the east wing. I considered it as safe a location as any, seeing that the wing was closed during the renovations. I attempted to find any trace of poison over the following four hours. None of my reagents reacted to anything in the food or wine.

"I believe that the silverware was enchanted by blood magic, sir. But for that to be the case, it requires access to both the silverware and the person of Lord Grant. The only suspects I have are all Lord Grant's personal servants.

"Myself included."

Alfred raised his eyes to look at Cade as the chair creaked—Lord Cade, he reminded himself. The young noble looked pensive, distressed. Then again, his father was killed just yesterday afternoon in a very violent, and disturbing manner.

"Alfred, I know you didn't do it. My father's effects include notes for me that include a description of your other skills, blood magic isn't one of them. And yes, he has a list of most of your tasks with how you accomplished them. Blood magic isn't your style, even if it were within your means." Lord Cade sounded certain of himself, even though he was just a young man. (At forty-eight, someone half your age is always young.)

"I hold myself responsible, sir. As your father's butler I had oversight of the staff. I saw no signs of stealing, ill will, or even wounds of any kind on your father. Were it a normal poison, I could easily have intercepted it."

Lord Cade made a brief "come hither" motion to his personal bodyguard, who advanced to where his master sat.

"Lorne, Mr Dare—" that cut like a knife, Alfred had been more of a father to Cade than Cade's own blood father! "—has a day to gather his belongings and leave. You are to give him funds for... a season. But no word of this conversation, or his other skills, is to leave this room."

Lorne silently put his fist to his chest, before he turned and left the room.

"I'm sorry Alfred. I hold you responsible in some small part for my father's death. And you are the natural one to blame: your duty as butler included checking for poisons. I have to dismiss you. Because I respect your long years of service to the family..." Lord Cade reached inside his cloak, and removed an ancient seal. "I want to give you my father's original seal. It is of no use, as you know, but I thought you would appreciate it."

"Thank you sir. I will leave Tarsis soon. It seems the only thing left for me here are enemies."

And it was true. He'd never married, his parents were long dead, and he didn't even know if his one sister was alive (let alone if she'd speak with him). No, it was better to leave the city where he'd plied his trade for the past thirty years. Did any of the other lords discover his secret, he'd be a dead man.

Odd thing was, Alfred really didn't know what to do with his own freedom.