Loggrim

Loggrim Bastiaan
Status	Active
Race	Human
Gender	Male
Guild	undisclosed
Instance	Prime

Loggrim's Current Description: (443 to current)

You see Scorpion Kisser (an Avatar of Stealth) Loggrim Bastiaan, Urrem'tier's Stinger of The Locksmith Union, a Human.
He has a light dusting of scintillating pearlescent flakes enhancing the cheekbones of an aristocratic face.
Some fashionable sunglasses with elongated cat-eye frames enhancing his fathomless abyssal black eyes and a small nose.
His platinum hair is short and straight and has been shaved at the sides, and is worn slicked back away from his face.
He has pearlescent skin and a skeletally thin build.
He is one who towers among others for a Human.
He appears to be in your prime.
He has a sleek goatee twisted into a fine point.
A solitary ebon jackal's heart pearl nestles within the lightly oiled goatee, secured into place by a shimmering spidersilk cord.
His shoulder has a tattoo of a chipped grey tombstone that reads "R.I.P.".

He is holding a fuligin nightmaster's blade accented by a blackened moonsilver grip in his right hand
He is holding a black throwing axe set with a trilliant cut night diamond in his left hand
He is wearing a dark khor'vela pelletbow tessellated with a murder of eerie black crows
a ribbed mammoth bone balaclava embellished with blackened moonsilver,
a chaotic eddy of midnight-blue light in a box with blackened moonsilver filigree
a pure black shirt that trails shadows with every movement
a pair of pure black trousers that trails shadows with every movement
a pure black ring that trails shadows with every movement
a ribbed mammoth bone hauberk inlaid with blackened moonsilver
a shadowy black nightmaster's shield displaying a dull obsidian durgauldite
some ribbed mammoth bone gloves set with blackened moonsilver
a diamond-hide nightmaster's belt with a dull obsidian durgauldite skull
some vulture-winged diamond-hide nightmaster's boots.

Loggrim's Old Description: (Prior to 443)

You see Scorpion Kisser Loggrim Bastiaan, Locksmithing Legend of The Locksmith Union, a Human.
He has an angular face, deep-set stormy grey eyes and a small nose.
His platinum hair is short and straight, and is worn parted on the side.
He has pale skin and a stout build.
He is slightly under average height for a Human.
A circle of obsidian is positioned between his eyes, surrounded by an aura of shadow rippling against his skin.
He is in his prime.
He has a sleek goatee twisted into a fine point. A solitary ebon jackal's heart pearl nestles within the lightly oiled goatee, secured into place by a shimmering spidersilk cord.
His shoulder has a tattoo of a chipped grey tombstone that reads "R.I.P.".
He is in good shape.

He is holding a fuligin nightmaster's blade accented by a blackened moonsilver grip in his right hand and a shadowy black nightmaster's shield displaying a dull midnight black durgauldite in his left.

He is wearing a polished animite eyebrow ring set with a small shadowy black aevanstone, a shadesatin gentleman's cloak with a night diamond fastener, a nightfire opal-eyed cobra charm, a vivid blue jacket that ripples with deep blue waves, a vivid blue shirt that ripples with deep blue waves, a black diamond icesilk armband of Eylhaar Wing orchids of night's somber hues, a filigreed platinum gentleman's ring set with a regal black diamond, a dragon's heart ring cradling a faceted black diamond, a diamond-hide nightmaster's belt with a glossy midnight black durgauldite skull, an animite belt buckle etched with the likeness of Urrem'tier, a pair of vivid blue trousers that ripples with deep blue waves and some vulture-winged diamond-hide nightmaster's boots.

A Short Story of Loggrim's Life

Loggrim was born on the 22nd day of the 7th month of Moliko the Balance in the year of the Golden Panther, 373 years after the victory of Lanival the Redeemer.

He wasn't the first child of his family and he wasn't the last. His adventuring career began around 386 but didn't really take off until around 396 when people began to refer to him as "a young upcoming REDACTED".

Loggrim really only ever had one goal, advancement with his guild. He knew it was unlikely he could play the same old game that everyone else had been doing for years, but by 396 he had learned how to do it his way and do it very well. The secret of his success was just plain focus. Doesn't seem like anything ground breaking, but it somehow worked.

He continued for years to make giant strides and then around the year 400 a great restructuring of guild advancement requirements stood to slow the advancement of many, but what no one know was that Loggrim had already secretly been planning and training specifically for this change already, day in and day out, for years! What turned out to be a curse for many Loggrim took as a boon, and catapulted himself into higher and higher ranks at speeds previously unknown, previously thought near impossible.

Would he know how to use every weapon in the world? No. Would he know how to use every armor type to its maximum efficiency? No. Would he be the best in combat vs all other adventurers? No. Did he care about any of those things? No. Was he now the most promoted member of his guild? Yes.

In the year 414 Loggrim became the first of his guild to reach his 200th guild promotion, in-fact he had come very close to being the first of any guild to do so, with only a handful of others reaching the same heights. His hand touched the guild renown scroll and cemented his name as number one. Beings of otherworldly power spoke to him and congratulated his accomplishment.

One such voice explained "You've beaten the game", Loggrim didn't know what this voice had meant but assumed it meant that his long years of dedication to his one true goal had paid off in the best way possible. When Loggrim was born it seemed nearly inconceivable that he would reach the top, totally impossible that he would be the first, that his name would stand atop all others in his guild, but he had done it.

For more than 28 years, and even now to this very day, Loggrim's name has been etched in its place, unmoving, undefeatable, unassailable, giving hope to some to mimic such achievements, ire to others for they would never surpass him.

Many wondered, including Loggrim himself, what he would do now? What goals would lie next? For a time Loggrim did continue as he had, training, advancing only in his own mind now that there was no other hurdles in-front of him... but he did, like many who reach the summit of such a singular existence, grow weary and he slowly faded into the shadows, leaving behind only his name on the scroll and memories of those few who knew him and fewer still who knew him well.

He would pop back into the realms from time to time but he never lingered long, whatever else there was calling him away again.

In 442 after nearly 30 years in the shadows, Loggrim has once again emerged, the world has changed greatly in his absence, many things that would have previously taken years now take only months, yet Loggrim continues to be a powerful force in the areas he chooses to be, and of course his name still tops that list, and commands him some rightfully earned respect.

What does he want now? No one knows, not even maybe himself.

A Bard's Song about Loggrim

'Ey, listen up, I'm about to unfold
A tale of an assassin, with a heart ice-cold
His name is Loggrim, and he lurks in the night
A killer in the shadows, who's never lost sight

He moves with the silence of a specter, unseen
His enemies never know where he is or where he's been
He is a master of the blade, and deadly with his flow
And when he attacks, it's always a fatal blow

Loggrim is predator, his trophies like a platinum mint
His victims never see him coming, they have no hint
Beware of the shadows, He's there waiting to strike
For when he does, there's no room for flight

He kills from the darkness, victims felled without a sound
Loggrim is a ghost, and his legend is renowned
Respect of him grows, spreading like a disease
And those who dare to cross him, meet their end with ease

So if you find yourself in the shadows of the night
Beware of Loggrim, and his deadly might
He's an assassin, with a heart ice-cold
Killing from the shadows, no mercy to behold.

The Truth about Kalag the Black's and General Zukir's Deaths? Maybe, Maybe not.

Loggrim had been a member of the <REDACTED> guild for years, working his way up through the ranks and earning the trust of his fellow <REDACTED>. He was known as one of the best <REDACTED> in the guild, always able to get his hands on the most valuable loot without getting caught. He was also known as an expert assassin, his stealth and ability to hit his victims weak spots well known among his brethren.

Kalag the Black was the leader of the guild and had a reputation for being merciless with anyone who dared to cross him, but Loggrim had always managed to stay on his good side. The Black was a cunning and ruthless man who ran the organization with a cold metered viciousness, but little did Kalag know that as of late: he had been slipping.

General Zukir with the assistance of the Zoluren Militia had been sneaking spies into the <REDACTED> guild, and had finally after several years of tenuous work had scouted every entrance and exit, of which there was many. With this completion of his reconnaissance Zukir brutally attacked the guild, leaving it in rubble and barely able to function.

Mere days later Zukir was found dead from a single wound to the back, weapons un-drawn and all other indicators showing that he never had seen it coming.

The following days things remained tense at the guild but many tried to keep things going as normal, trying just to survive or maybe just in blind in denial of how severe the situation actually was.

Loggrim had just returned from a successful heist, and alone in the guild he was in the process of dividing the spoils, for his fellow <REDACTED> into caches around the guild that they would find later, trying to raise spirits despite the darkness that seemed to loom.

Kalag approached him, a dangerous glint in his eye as he spoke. "I heard you made quite a haul tonight," he said, his voice low and dangerous.

Loggrim felt a shiver run down his spine his instincts firing in a way he hadn't fully expected in a conversation with his leader. He knew that tone all too well: it was the same one Kalag had used when he had punished other members of the guild for stepping out of line. Only this was somehow different; it was more, it had something deep within it, this was on the verge of madness, desperation, and loathing. Was he angry at Loggrim's continued success in the face of his own failings? Regardless the room practically shook with murderous intent. Loggrim felt his entire being ready for anything.

"I did," Loggrim replied outwardly calm, eyeing Kalag questioningly yet still trying to keep cool despite the nearly palpable tension between them.

Kalag smiled, but there was no warmth in it, barely anything now except rage. "Good. You know the rules, Loggrim. A portion of all profits go to the guild. Hand it over." Kalag seethed the words through gritted teeth at Loggrim like invisible daggers. There was a strange emphasis on "all profits" and "Hand it over" with a surprising lack of emphasis on "to the guild".

Loggrim handed over the agreed-upon portion of the loot, but Kalag wasn't satisfied. He demanded more and more, until Loggrim actually started dipping into his own coin and valuables from previous ventures. In a flash Loggrim realized Kalag wouldn't be satisfied ever again. This thing writhing in front of him now was no longer his honorable and respectable leader, no longer his Kalag, just an empty husk fueled by selfish greed, all brotherhood cast aside.

That was when something inside Loggrim snapped. He had always been loyal to the guild, but he couldn't take it anymore. He wouldn't let this new beast destroy what was left of his life, his friends, his home, his everything. He couldn't just watch as this madman grew richer and more powerful while the rest of them struggled to make ends meet.

Not one to hesitate, Loggrim drew his blade and lunged at Kalag. The two of them fought furiously, but eventually Loggrim managed to grab just a moment out of the Black's sight and dipped into the shadows where his abilities would be at their most powerful. Seconds later Loggrim landed an apocalyptic strike (22/22) to Kalag's back that pierced through his heart and he dropped dead to the ground without nearly a sound. Loggrim stood over the body, panting and covered in blood, but only for the merest fraction of a second. Loggrim cleaned the site of the duel; taking nothing, leaving nothing. The only proof that something had happened would be the absence of Kalag the Black and the complete lack of any evidence.

Unfortunately nothing could stop minds across the world from sensing the Black's soul walk the starry road; never return to a body, but by then any of those whom may have rushed to the scene only found what Loggrim wanted them to find, nothing at all.

Rumors swirled in the coming days that the <REDACTED> council had simply voted out Kalag the Black for his failings to protect the guild from the raid. That perhaps he had even been involved in helping the Militia with intel from within. This suited Loggrim just fine and he never spoke anything otherwise to anyone. Happy to leave his deeds in the shadow and to let them grow into the distant past.

While it took quite some time, years in fact, the guild eventually rebuilt. More secretive, more secure and stronger than ever before the guild was finally ready and a new leader was appointed who took the name Kalag the Sly.

To this day, it's unknown if The Sly has ever asked Loggrim, indirectly or otherwise, about the Black or the General Zukir, but this was normal not to talk about such things, especially such things so distant now.

Of course this is just a story told only in the shadows and in whispers and only between those who would dare muse at such things.

Probably in a well lit and secured room and absolutely with their backs to a wall.