Angst Rogue with a traumatic past

I grew up in the heart of Yartar with my mother, helping her run a jewelry shop where we worked and lived upstairs. It made us enough money to survive, but never enough to be completely comfortable. I helped by keeping the shop, advertising to traveling merchants and caravans, and once I was old enough, making jewelry. Most of our products were handmade from materials bought and traded from the merchants. When I was 18, my mother and I were robbed in the middle of the night. They shattered the window and stole all our most valuable pieces. Desperate, my mother dipped into her savings to repair the shop and replace our inventory, but was still terrified of another robbery potentially ruining us. She traded a priceless, delicately carved obsidian necklace, our most precious family heirloom, to the Zhentarim in exchange for security. After a week of protection, the Zhentarim tripled their originally agreed upon price. Still suffering from the last robbery, my mother had nothing left to pay them. I was by the docks negotiating with trade barges when I smelled the smoke and instinctively knew it’s source. Running back to the shop, the heat was so intense that it became hard to see what was happening. I saw a cloaked figure wearing an obsidian necklace ride away from the scene as the walls collapsed into the intense flames. I suffered intense burns on my back and forearm from trying to pull my m other out of the flaming debris, but once she was by the safety of the street she didn’t wake up. She had a large gash through her gut that resembled a sword wound, and had suffered from smoke inhalation and deadly burns. She was dead before I ever went in to save her.

I spent the following year homeless on the streets of Yartar, begging passersby for isolated moments of charity just to survive. Every piece of jewelry I had been able to salvage from the shop I had to sell within the first month after the accident and I h ad nothing to remember my mother by, as the flames took everything else. Eventually, I realized that these rich merchants and passing nobles seemed to actively enjoy my misery, constantly mocking and harassing me for the price of a few copper pieces. Infuriated with everything that had been taken from me, I talked my way into a few drinks with a clumsy nobleman, waited for him to pass out, then stole everything he had on him, leaving him with his undergarments and nothing else. Since then, I’ve survived tavern to tavern, city to city, conning wealthy assholes out of their belongings by getting them too drunk to notice their missing coin purse, or by selling phony potions to stroke their ego. I worked as cheap security for some lower-class merchants in exchange for a ride to each new town I went to. Three y ears later and I’ve arrived in this poor mining town with few targets of interest. Originally planning on passing right through, my curiosity around my traveling acquaintances kept me around long enough to find a promising job, which leads to where I’m at now.

While nihilism has consumed my life, I hold onto a burning hatred for the wealthy, the Zhentarim, and the cloaked mercenary who murdered my mother.

Age

22

Gender

Woman

Eyes

dark green

Hair

obsidian black hair in a ponytail

Skin Tone/Pigmentation

white

Height

5'8"

Weight

145 lbs