Dusty Rose

Pick Pocket

Dusty tries to pick the pocket of difficult targets. If she can get away with the bag the next step is to try to put the bag back on the target, that proves to be much more difficult, but just as fun.

Poison

Her go-to choice for assassination is Poison. She's not great at mixing it yet since she can't see what she's actually doing. Most the time it just makes the target very sick but has yet to kill anyone.

Dances with Knives

When poison doesn't work, she falls back to her old faithful, knives. She has more skill dancing with knives and dance fighting than she does with most ways of combat.

On the outside Dusty is a sweet little thing, using her short stature for her species to her advantage to seem less of a threat, even seem much younger than she is. She finds herself surrounding herself with others as she performs odd jobs to get money to scrounge together. She likes large communities, crowds, creatures in general. On the inside, she is still sweet, but not naive. Her heart has hardened over time and the death of the majority of her cluster drove her and the survivors from their homeland. She sees everyone as a potential threat but still tries to keep a smile on her face.

History

Dusty was grown to a very loving cluster, this love and community lasted for a little over 4 wonderful years for her. She was one of many born in the cluster at that time, they were prospering, that is until the raids started. They were slow, at first. One or two of the cluster would disappear, they thought they were just leaving or going to neighboring villages or towns, but they weren't coming back. Finally, the cluster started forming watches by night, worried creatures were making off with their people. But, they started coming back. Those who they thought were lost were showing up, a little beaten up, a little cracked, but they were coming back. They let their guard down. They were fools.

Monterea had found them. Those with the bond. The ones that came back were being controlled and the final raid destroyed the cluster. The Monterea were few, but their magic was strong, those who were not taken over were killed, shattered. She can still remember the feeling of the magic piercing her, pulling its way into her mind. If Velvet Cloud hadn't attacked the Monterea they would have had her, but it came with a price. The Monterea had a grasp of her leg as they tried to flee, the magic was keeping her old of Dusty and they couldn't get free so Velvet did what needed to be done and severed Dusty's leg below the knee, carrying her out of the cluster on her back. When the fighting had ended a small group had survived. Their once large cluster was now a handful, none of them elders, none of them uninjured. Dusty wasn't even the worst injured with her cracks, fissures, and a missing leg.

But her problems weren't over. When she tried to grow back her leg, something wasn't right. She couldn't heal herself properly. She was young to have to try, but it still should have worked. Instead of a leg, crystals grew, strong but immobile. One of the surviving Kith Green Meadow was a crystal worker, he helped polish and sculpt it into a leg she could use to walk at least. They became nomadic after the attack, traveling from city to city, town to town, their small cluster doing what they could to make money, to survive. As time passed, Dusty didn't grow. She stayed only 6 feet, and Velvet didn't know what to do. The magic had stunted her, broken her.

Now

She traveled with them for years upon years, never quite forgetting the pain of the magic. She trained; martial arts, fighting styles, dance styles, anything that could be used to make money and stay safe. She wouldn't let someone hurt her again. But time passed, no more Monterea came for them, but they still ran. When Dusty was 20 she decided she needed to find her own way, find a place for herself. She loved her cluster but she was always going to be the runt with them. The one that was touched by the magic and they made extra hard to keep her out of sight. She needed to leave. That is how she finds herself today, wandering alone, but always surrounded by people of all races. Meeting as many new faces as she can, making as many friends and contacts along the way as possible.

I'm sorry I forgot what we were talking about. 

Even though many from her cluster frown upon it, she hasn't cut her hair since they fled, she won't until they find those who took her cluster from them.

She is fond of having others around but is generally untrusting. Not that she'd let you know.

Her specialty is dance fighting, though she is good with a knife.

The little cracks in her skin are where she gets injured and crystal forms inside the cut instead of healing right.

Her cluster, when they realized, gave her some strategic cuts to form crystals so she would look pretty as she danced.

Her favorite type of alcohol is either Blood Wine or Vodka.