|Guild||Harlots of the Pirate Isles|
|Professions||Burglar, Mercenary, Companion|
At first glance, Nicol appears to be a very unremarkable lower-class Aquilonian woman. She is of average height, although somewhat underweight. Her figure is lean, perhaps even tomboyish. Her narrow hips and below-average chest give her fewer curves than most women her age. Tired eyes, a sun-burned, often unwashed appearance, and a large scar across her mouth hide what would otherwise be a very attractive face. In fact, if Nicol were to take a bath more often and have her hair brushed out, she'd likely clean up quite nicely. She usually lets her hair hang over her face, doing her best to hide the scar that makes her feel self-conscious.
Nicol is usually dressed like a Cimmerian. A mis-matched collection of leather patchwork and animal hides hangs loosely off of her, giving a rather uncivilized appearance. Her gear has a tattered appearance that leaves little to the imagination. If nothing else, it easily confirms that she is indeed female. Along her left forearm is a runic tattoo. She doesn't remember where it came from, but speculates she got it at some point during her captivity prior to the Tortage shipwreck.
Nicol walks with heavy footsteps that lack any grace whatsoever. The fact that she's able to easily disappear in a crowd or a shadowy alley are feats of amazement given her overt gawkiness. She generally has a large blade slung across her back that looks impossibly heavy for such a scrawny girl. But despite her lack of mass, Nicol has an impressive sinewy strength in reserve. Her skills as a rogue coming only from instinct and necessity rather than any formal training. When she swings her weapon, it is with a berserker's frenzy. Her style of combat could only be described as reckless abandon.
Inside, Nicol is a distrusting and skeptical woman. Years of poverty and abuse have made her into someone who believes most people are hypocrites and liars. Yet she generally keeps her bitterness locked up inside, hidden from others. Nicol has very few genuine friends, preferring not to be disappointed (which she feels is inevitable).
She maintains a calm, neutral appearance to the world and speaks only when necessary. She has a keen eye for observing others, and is quick to note everything going on around her. When in the company of men, Nicol offers friendly smiles and an aggressive, playful charm that makes them think she is quite harmless and trustworthy. Nicol has heard many secrets whispered in her ears over the years, and has learned how useful it can be to be perceived as a naive play-thing.
((OOC Note: While Nicol was taken and enslaved as part of Thoth-Amon's army, she is for all other intents and purposes a completely “normal” victim of this atrocity. She is not special. That is to say, that in-character she IS NOT the protagonist of the story-line of the game. She has NOT been singled out as special by any mystical seer, and she most certainly has not been given the Phoenix Medallion. Frankly, it's impossible to imagine that every member of the world lays claim to this unique destiny. Any mention of the Phoenix Medallion or a fated destiny will be viewed by her as absolute lunacy and will quickly find you on the receiving end of Nicol's distrust.))
Nicol was not an orphan, but she might as well have been for the amount of attention and love she received from her mother. She grew up on the streets of Old Tarantia. Nicol learned early in life to look after herself, and often would end up going hungry unless she was able to find a way to feed herself. Understandably, she had plenty of practice liberating the merchants of their excess goods. An apple here, an handful of nuts there... whatever she could grab and (hopefully) not get caught. This inevitably happened on occasion, and led to more than her share of black eyes and bruises. But boys her own age soon discovered that she was a poor target to pick on. Nicol's fighting tenacity began at an early age, and the bullies quickly learned to leave her alone.
By adolescence, Nicol was officially on her own. Her mother, too consumed with her bottles of booze and her lingering Lotus habit, had neither the time nor the money to provide for her daughter. The one useful thing her mother passed on to Nicol was a vague story of her father. The Cimmerian warrior who had spent several short weeks with Nicol's mother while traveling south towards Stygia. He was a handsome man with bright blue eyes and the lightest blond hair one could imagine. His beard was braided and adorned with Cimmerian ceramic beads. Upon his body, he wore a warrior's traditional blue tattoos.
Nicol never knew this man, but felt a strangely compelling need to find him and learn more about her own mixed heritage. Once able, she decided to set out to find him. Rather than head north into Cimmeria, she chose to re-trace the journey her father had been on so many years ago. With a pack full of supplies and an old, dull sword she'd managed to liberate from a guard barracks Nicol headed south towards the desert. The journey proved more difficult than she ever imagined. Unused to life in the wilderness, Nicol soon learned she was not as proficient at hunting for her meals as she'd expected. By the time she'd made it to Argos, Nicol found herself completely destitute and defeated. She did, however, learn that wealthy men were eager to give large handfuls of coins for a few hours of her time in a back room. Nicol was happy to take their money, since there seemed little alternative. She was never in any one place long enough to establish a reputation, but did soon consider herself well experienced at her new trade. Men were easy to manipulate and quick to talk. By renting out her body, Nicol had begun to put a fair amount of money in her pocket. And by listening carefully and creating relationships with underground information networks, she began to learn more about her father and why he'd been traveling to Stygia. Nicol eventually had enough money to buy passage on a ship. Traveling over water would substantially reduce her travel time to the ancient, southern lands. On the scheduled day of departure, she took what little gear she had and enthusiastically boarded the vessel.
That was six years ago. Nicol has no memory of what happened along the way, where she'd been during that time, or what she'd been doing. Waking up on the sandy beaches of Tortage was the first experience she remembered since. As her old memories slowly return, Nicol is rediscovering lost skills. Her talents at hiding in shadows, swinging a blade, and seducing men with money to spare have all been reborn. As time goes on, she grows more anxious to have answers to the questions about her father and who she is. She's vowed to one day try again to learn what happened to the Cimmerian man responsible for her existence.