Your Name ∙ Kelley, but most everyone calls me Nori

Contact Information ∙mystic_crystal_wolf@hotmail.com (e-mail and msn) and tetoekc@aol.com (aim)

Time Zone ∙ EST


Character’s Name ∙ Fallon Smithy, King of the Court of the Rogue

Age ∙ 27 years of age

Gender ∙Male

Residing ∙ Upmarket- in a small flat above a iron smith shop.

Character Class ∙ Rogue

Occupation ∙ King of the Court of the Rogue. Iron Smith


Sexual Orientation ∙ Bisexual.

Gift ∙ Moderate amount of magical gift, Fallon has the ability to tell when someone is lying, double crossing or any other form of treason to him. What it does is monitor people's heart rate, neurological electrical waves and temperature changes. The gift than turns the information it has collected into understandable truth, lie, half truth, or spell induced answers. He can start and control fire, which helps him in his smithy work. He can do simple protection and resilience charms for any armor he makes for the Dogs that trust him as well as simple armor for his closest subjects. His Gift appears as the color of shadows. Mostly black and it doesn't exactly sparkle but it can glow.

Overall Personality ∙ Fallon has a mean, sarcastic sense of humor. He isn't morbid but he finds some of the more ruthless side of his work to be amusing. Fall isn't afraid to kill of his people if they are trying to take control of his other subjects or his job. He sometimes feels like a father to them. Many of his people he found when he was younger and took under his wing. These people helped him take over the court when the last King was getting too complacent. Fallon isn't a mean, rude king but he likes to stay connected and in the loops. Nothing happens that he doesn't know about, and a lot of his subjects agree to it. They like having him back them up.

When he started as king he was a little nervous but didn't show it. That was part of his power as a leader. Many of the people that thought he was too young and inexperienced found him to be a breath of fresh air. His new ideas and new group of rogues brought his new family up to date. Old hits where left to rejuvenate and become calm while others that had previously become too complacent were hit extra hard. Fallon's emotions took on a happy edge. His smithy was getting good business and alot of new metals. He was getting up in the world, which was his intention since childhood.


Height ∙ 6'1''

Weight ∙ 173lbs

Overall Appearance ∙ Fallon's light brown hair is naturally curly and he keeps it short. It falls across his features in an attractive manor or so some of his mots say. His brows are thick but not overly large for his face. His grey/green eyes are almond shaped with thick lashes, giving his eyes an innocent gleam. His nose his thick and ended in a blade. He has thin lips that flick from a smile to a grim frown in an instant. His chin is is flat and holds his features strongly. All together his face his quite handsome and attracts many woman into his arms.

His body's colored in a dark tan like that of the Bazhir but is tall and lanky, although his arms show off his smith work the rest of him looks thin but lightly toned. He has small burn marks littered across his chest and hands. Fallon's chest is lightly covered with curly hair that skitters down his tight stomach. He wears loose fitting leggings and tunic, showing off his body to those who were willing to look. Fallon's clothing colors consist of greens and browns. When he is working his clothing is usually good quality fabrics that can hold up to the constant heat and movement. browns, reds and blacks hide marks better then light blues and greens.


Family ∙ Father - Wolfram Smithy (Deceased)
Mother - Anise Drapper (Deceased)
Sister - Liane Drapper (Estranged)

Birthplace ∙ Temple District after his father died.

Background ∙ Fallon never met his father and spent little time with his Mother. She worked as a low grade seamstress who barely got paid for the work she did. Her employer took most of it. Little Fallon didn't see her much but his rude older sister who treated him like lice. She left him to fend for himself at a very young age but was never caught. Anise thought Fall was just being annoying when he would go up to his mother and exclaim that Liane left him again. "I'm too tired for you're games boy! Go wash up." was always her retort. Her daughter, it seemed, could do no wrong. Liane was going out and getting into drugging and flower selling. While she never became a part of the rogue, she spent a lot of time with those that were. After a while Liane would tell Fallon to clean the house, which was normally her job. After the first week of stubborn refusal she beat him up and told their mother that he had run out and tried to steal dumplings from the seller down the way. He received an extra beating and no supper. After that Fallon cleaned up the house perfectly, which left him with time to roam around the lower city. There were many things that a boy of 7 could enjoy. He soon learned sneaky hands received more then idol ones. By age 10 Fallon was working his way up to Patten and Unicorn. Because of his previous hits he was able to save up money and get more respectable clothing that caused him to fit in better.

His mother couldn't afford a magic sniffer but Fallon discovered it all on his own. While picking a wealthy merchant's pocket he was startled at the coins that was trying to burn through his skin. He could feel the spell trying to break through but knew it wouldn't cause lasting damage. The merchant how ever, felt the heating metal singeing his expensive robes and caught Fallon in the act. Luckily the merchant was just passing through and didn't really care about the attempted theft, all he cared about was the fact that the boy didn't have circular burn marks littering his hands. After some bribes and conversations Silias, the merchant, taught Fallon the barest of control and tested him in small situations. They found out that Fallon has control over fire and all it makes (i.e. Light, heat) and that he made some strong protection charms. With this information Fallon knew he was going to go places. Maybe not to the Carthaki University but higher than the slums.

As Fallon got older his powers grew but the need to use them was getting smaller and smaller.

His mother was getting very old and his sister was being pimped out to foreign merchants. She worked long hours with little pay. Fallon was trying to find work with merchants but his magic was starting to leak out in random intervals. At one point he burnt 8 loafs of bread at a small bakery in Upmarket that cost him his wages and then some. He jumped from job to job while trying to find reasons to use his gift he fell back into his old roaming habits. His skilled fingers darted into pockets of those he passed on the way out and back home. Although now he wasn't the only ones. Now a 16 year old young man he noticed many kids in his exact predicament. Some had gifts that no one cared to find while others were just homeless mutts. Soon they followed him around because of his skill and would eye his technique. Most of their eyes couldn't follow his movement while others, jealous, would call out to his target. These kids were beaten after. People who took away another's way of living didn't deserve to live. Fallon was left alone to his own devices but he couldn't really leave these kids alone. Soon he had a small gang following him around, picking up more and more items.

Fall's small band of thieves began to draw attention to many of the merchant's eyes. The merchants soon realized that Fallon was the ring leader. While the kids rarely broke items they took some of their lively-hood away. Some asked Fallon what would be a good way to keep his "Children" from stealing from them. He saw it as an opportunity to make a small name for himself; maybe help keep some of the lesser rogue from encroaching on his kids. That was what they were to him now, after hearing the merchants call the children his. Some merchants, who asked politely and offered some food or other items where never bothered again. Others who were less respectful, were stolen from more harshly, the children not being as careful to not break things. These particular merchants called for the dogs most times, but they kids would run and hide at some of their other merchant friend's stall or disappear into the streets.

Fallon finally discovered someone who could work with all his gifts. An Iron Smithy noticed the boys arms and spotted the fire coursing through his veins. Chanda Smith gobbled up Fallon like silver and taught him how to mold metal like a master. The kids would watch from the doors and windows, not letting Fallon, their teacher, out of their sights. Soon they each had a role in his workings. Some would bring water, pump the bellows, or bring in new metal scraps they found on the streets or stole from various people. His work was never done and the use of his gift seemed to never stop. He liked the release of the itch that lived under his skin for as long as he could remember. His life moved on slowly as news of his family drifted around his children. His mother was definitely dying while his sister seemed to have fallen off the edge of the world. Soon one of his children brought word his mother was looking for him. Chanda nodded in understanding before Fallon darted out of the forge and into the streets. He barely made it home to hug his mother before she sighed her last breath. Fallon didn't want to his children fall into his life so he sold off the small apartment and worked all the time.

By 25 Chanda's arms were giving in and his lungs couldn't take the smoke from the kiln anymore. He moved out of his upstairs loft and sold the building to Fallon. He was speechless but greatly pleased. Now he had a place to live and get his kids off the streets. Some of them were starting to catch flack from other street kids, many a part of the rogue. This alone was starting to irritate Fallon. When one of his kids finally died from a thorough beating he stormed out of his forge and tracked the young group down. Most at 17-19 years old. He called upon his gift that reached out from the shadows to spark flames all over their clothing. It wasn't very long before the street was filled with their screams and the scent of burnt flesh. He knew none of them were going to be bothered by the small gang ever again.

By the end of that summer Fallon was worming his way into the court of the rogue. They speculated about who killed their old friends but couldn't bring themselves to confront him. Fallon wanted in on the people that threatened his people. It wasn't long before his past excursions and Gift carried him up the ladder. He made followers quickly and the King eyed him fearfully. This young man could take his legacy away from him. It wasn't long before that came to be. Fallon marched up to the king and called him out. "I'm challenging you for the title of King." Fallon's words echoed around the room. Everyone was quite and their eyes glued to the king. Would he accept or you Fallon have to find another way to take the throne? It seemed the 'olf king's fear was coming true. All he could do was stare and nod. If he didn't, he wouldn't have any followers after. All the rouges cleared the room and made a fighting ring. Fallon rubbed the extra dirt off his boots and stripped his shirt. He wanted the easiest way to move around and keep his footing on the floor. He withdrew his wrist blade and dropped all the others into a pile by his shirt. Other wrist blade, the knife from the small of his back, belt blade, two boot knives and his special knife that sat behind his shoulder blades by a thong around his neck.

The king's eyes became beady at the sight of all the knives. He hadn't realized how far Fallon had progressed from the year before. He called a war cry before charging Fallon. Sidestepping and slashing at his back Fallon tip toed away, They spared slowly at first, each thrust becoming weaker on both sides. Finally, when the old king stopped for a breather, believing Fallon to need air as well, Fallon lunged forward and sheathed his blade into the man's chest. There wasn't much sound coming from the previous king. He stared wondrously at Fallon before dropping to his knees. His eyes never left Fallon's face even after his life force rushed out of his body.

Fallon was now the King of the Rogue.

First thing Fallon, the King of the Rogue did, was bring all his children into the rogue. He wanted all his children by his side and in site. They, of course, had no problem with that at all. It seemed that their family was growing and they knew that they didn't have to worried about being the next dead kid.


Fallon's strong hands reached out to grasp the iron rod lying in the embers. It glowed bright orange in his grasp but did little but warm his fingers. Placing the rod on the anvil Fall swung the flat faced hammer heavily down to flatten it beautifully. He was making sheets for door accents and marking them with charms. Each new strike placed a new symbol onto the bar, making way for the oils and magic to be added when done. A voice called out from beyond the open window. One last slam was all he could do before one of his children slammed into the window sill. "Fallon! Fallon! Its Kersey! Hes.. Hes really bad." Gwen panted audibly but what spoke the loudest was the panic and pain in her chocolate brown eyes.
Fallon threw his bar into the troff of water and called the heat from the kiln. He needed to be gone minuets ago. "Lead the way Gwen."

His comment was stern yet comforting. The 15 year old girl sighed in relief and bolted back the way she came. Trotting after her he kept her in sight, knowing that she wouldn't leave him behind. His pace was quick and purposeful. She lead him to a small rat hole were Kersey was lying, curled up and bloody. Fallon involuntarily hissed. It wasn't a pretty picture. "Kersey? Can you see me?"

There wasn't a sound, no movement or breath. Gwen squeaked and knelt down by her boyfriend. "Kersey! Kersey! Wake up!"

She reached out and shoved his shoulder to no avail. Her eyes glassed over and she began to shake, calling out his name. "Kersey! Kersey!"

Fallon's head drooped. This was the first of his children to die by someone's hand. Sure, sickness had given their young lives to the God of Death but never before did he have someone to blame. "Gwen.. do you know who did this?"

Puffy eyes turned in his direction and a sniffle escaped her. "The new rouges... the inductees." Gwen eyes flicked back to Kersey and she began to rock back and forward. Fallon left her to her own devices. He was going to get some revenge, the Dogs weren't going to take care of it, so that left him. He stalked over to the lower city to find these kids that killed a part of his family.

Upon discovery they were all laughing outside the court, chattering about their latest rampage. Fallon glared down at them, utalizing his 6 feet and 1 inch. All he could muster out of his mouth was "How dare you?!" before unleashing the heat he had called from his kiln. Shadows escaped his hands and coiled around the sma
ll group. What little warning they had did no good. Flames burst into life around them, searing their skin and shriveling their hair. The group let out a collective scream that rang down and around the street. Many people stopped to stare while others vomited in the bushes. This was murder by a very strong mage and no cesspool occupant was going to interfere. Fallon's ears captured their shrieks of pain and fear and placed them deep into Fallon's brain. He would hear those cries in his sleep for a long while.

It seemed to only take moments before all that was left of the murderers was piles of smoldering ash. His feelings had found an exit and he felt no guilt. They deserved what they got. No one messed with his children and went unpunished. Even rogue scum such as these. Fallon knew there would be no retaliation.