Nastrus Guile

[Nastrus]

{Full Name}- Eliu G. Sur t'san

{Nicknames}- 60 minute man, gold member, bloodthistle on legs... etc

{Age}- Late adolescence/early adulthood

{Residence}- He lives off the patronage of others and is satisfied with roaming about.

{Known Relatives}- Professor Menion Leah (http://wow-tng.org/showthread.php?t=13119&highlight=menion) but this is not well known.

{Philosophy}- Money can buy you happiness and flattery will get you everywhere.

{Occupation}- Gigolo (male prostitute)

{Group/Guild affiliation}- None. He benefits from working alone.

{Enemies}- Anyone who isn't paying his wages.

{Likes}- Married women with lots of money and expensive taste.

{Favorite Foods}- Fruit, especially exotic and tropical variety

{Favorite Drinks}- White wine

{Favorite Colors}- Pink

{Weapons of Choice}- Swept hilt Flameberge

{Dislikes}- Anyone who is of lower class or wastes his time, he dislikes boredom and drudgery and has an odd distaste for others of his profession.

{Hobbies}- Spending money, fencing, and perfecting his "art".

{Appearance}- Unfairly attractive and he knows it. Nastrus has a light but rosy complexion and is full of youth and vigor. His face is boyishly handsome with upturned nose, small but well-shaped body, and a crown of cascading orange-red hair. He looks dissimilar to his half-brother, though they share the same build and hair texture.

{Special Abilities}- He specializes in charming women and giving pleasure.

{Negative Personality Traits}- Where to start... he's greedy, dishonest, selfish, insensitive, immoral, narcissistic, tactless, two faced, pathological liar, trickster, murderer... need I go on?

{Positive Personality Traits}- Few if any

{History}- Eliu was fathered by an exiled Magocrat who sold him as a young adolescent to a prostitution ring. He was; however, purchased by a wealthy widow woman who spared no expense in spoiling and educating him.

His upbringing isn't well known as he goes by pseudonyms and weaves many lies to prevent people from finding out too much about him. Though determined to have revenge he sought out his father and bled every drop of information the old man could impart, and thus learned of his sibling. Afterwards he promptly murdered him and ransacked his estate.

Currently he seeks half-brother Menion Leah, and plans to acquire hierarchy and the family fortune by means of sabotage.

{Netherlegend}- Nastrus' Guile (http://wow-tng.org/showthread.php?t=16531)

[Thalarios]

A humid breeze wafted lazily over the Ratchet port, rustling a thin, gray photograph that was shoved in the Wizard's face. The shrewd and chubby Goblin reporter that held onto the delicate piece of film screwed up his eyes, trying to make out the dead man's face, shadowed in contrast to the blazing sunlight. Thalarios nonchalantly propped himself up against one of the many pieces of luggage surrounding him, crossing his arms and trying to sound tougher than he actually was.

"Yeah, Elf sounds familiar. Reminds me of a youthful me, actually...But I don't have time to talk though, I have places to be in about..."

The Mage looked over at an arrival/departure list posted earlier that morning for the boat schedule, and his hopeful smirk dissipated into a scowl. He turned back to the Goblin and sighed loudly.

"Four and a half hours."

He peeked out from behind his black "spectacles" (which resembled thin, square goggles more than anything) and took a closer look at the worn picture that was hovering a few inches from the tip of his nose. The scowl was replaced with a smug grin.

"Pffft, looks like a wimp. I could of kicked his ass in my better days, worthless tramp. I guess the ladies needed an alternative when I stopped coming by...Y'know?"

Thalarios took a few seconds to chuckle quietly to himself, but stopped abruptly. His eyes darted suddenly to the greasy Goblin, the scowl from earlier reappearing on his face.

"Hey! Why are you asking me about male prostitutes anyways!?"

The Mage kicked at the small Goblin and began curse incoherently at the reporter when it fearfully darted for nearby bruisers. Thalarios began to hobble rapidly in pursuit, leaving his luggage at the end of the port.

"Just because I couldn't get it up when that Draenei had a wardrobe malfunction doesn't mean I swing that way!"