Jorildyn Fhamir

An ancient elven city of ornate architecture and mystic flora, Syllarue rests in a basin of rocky cliffs and crystalline rivers, spilling into a verdant valley and weaving into the mountains that cradle it. Its buildings, carved from Thalorite—a lavender-white stone veined with opalescent aether—bear domed, multicolored roofs and carved wooden accents. Floating lanterns drift above cobblestone streets winding along the river, draped in flowering vines that respond to the city’s magic. Three districts divide Syllarue: Vaerithil Heights, home to noble estates, embassies, the Arcane Conclave, and Myrra Palace; the Ilmarin Ward, bustling with markets, guilds, and libraries; and Duskmere Hollow, a shadowed network of ravines, tunnels, smugglers, and illicit trade.

Ruled by a Council of Twelve, the city blends tradition with democracy. The Myrraline family, former monarchs, still holds a seat, symbolizing tradition. Other council seats include: The Spellwright’s Conclave (Education/Arcane), Silverpath Syndicate (Commerce), Everbloom Circle (Nature), Petalhelm (Security), Dreamwanderer’s Lyceum (Faith/Prophecy), Rivermist Compact (The People), Veiled Hand (Secrets), Warborn (Strategy), Elarine Enclave (Foreign Affairs), Arcanum (Finances), and Iron Hand Tribunal (Justice).

Power in Syllarue lies as much in factions as in politics. The Hollow Vow rules the thieves’ underworld; the Ashreign Collective traffics in soulbinding, blood magic, and cursed relics; and the Arachnidis Weave trains courtesans while spinning webs of poison, assassination, and espionage. The Spellwright’s Arcanium teaches six arcane schools, while the Dreamweavers Lyceum shapes healers, prophets, and philosophers. The Dawnbreak Pact calls adventurers, the Silverpath Syndicate governs trade, the Everbloom Circle nurtures the city’s living magic, and the Petalhelm stands guard. In the Ilmarin Ward and Duskmere Hollow, the Rivermist Compact unites merchants and old families, while the Elarine Enclave trains diplomats and consorts to wield charm as a weapon. Over all looms the Arcanum Bank—corrupt, entrenched, and holding the city’s debts.

Beyond its borders, Syllarue maintains fraught ties with the industrial Kavareth Dominion, the rebellious yet dependent Vaithalos Republic which split from Syllarue, and its staunch ally, the druidic Thyrssian Vale.

Jorildyn Fhamir, dubbed "Silverslip" by the Petalhelm Guard, is a skilled thief who amuses himself by robbing the richest and most well-guarded homes in Syllarue. The problem is that he's rather good at it, earning a name for himself as one of Syllarue's most infamous and elusive criminals. He works alone, though he fences his goods through the Hollow Vow. He prefers not to get tangled up in politics and keepers, though he's been approached with jobs and contracts, he sticks to freelance thievery—stealing just for himself.

Jori likes to be called "Silver", and will hide his identity and name even from those he trusts—only the person that he is closest to would know both his names. He's cocky, arrogant, and confident—comfortable in his skill and reputation as a thief and a scoundrel. He never takes anything seriously, at least, not outwardly. He makes a joke of everything, even himself. Once a noble's son cast out for his loose ways and gray morals, Jori targets the rich and pompous specifically. He swears he'll never return to a life of comfortable arrogance, preferring instead a life of uncomfortable arrogance. He's a flirt, crude and taunting to just about everyone he likes, and he often comes off as an asshole, albeit a lovable one. He's charming, quick-witted, with a constant attitude of nonchalance and mischief. He's funny, making jokes at other's expense almost as much as his own. Self-deprecation is a source of coping, and he paints the world in black and white even though he is well aware of all the gray between—there are the good guys and the bad guys, the rich and the poor, the important and the forgotten. Despite his background, he counts himself as among the less fortunate, a bit of a hypocrite, though he was cut off and has had to learn to make his own way—hence the thieving and gambling. He's incredibly lucky, except when he's not, and then he is very unlucky. For Jori, there's no in-between. He's also very selfish, and doesn't rob the rich out of any sense of nobility or honor, but rather as a personal slight against the life he had lived and the father who had scorned him for his vices.

Jori loves sex. He has it often, taking strangers and friends to his bed, flirting with anything that has a pulse. He's always been promiscuous, and it was part of what got him cast out, but he doesn't regret it. He celebrates sex, and isn't afraid to remark on what attracts him, nor is he afraid to chase it. When he finds a partner that he really likes, however, he savors the chase. Cat and mouse games turn him on, and he loves to be scorned and challenged. Fighting to him is just foreplay, and he's excellent at banter. Teasing touches and remarks are his specialty in flirting—chin tilts, caging his partner in, whispers against their neck. He pushes boundaries, and will invade his partner's space often but he won't always touch them. Sometimes the near-misses—almost kisses, shared breaths, whispers of a caress or the brief press of a body as he passes by, the tug of a loose strand of hair—are more arousing than clumsy touches. When provoked, however, past flirtation or when he gets more confident with a partner, Jori gets bolder with his touches to the point of manhandling his partner. He'll lift them, toss them over his shoulder, hug them from behind, pull their hair when he kisses them, grope them playfully, and pull them to sit in his lap among other bold touches.

Jori is a cocky, playful pleasure dominant who can be either soft or hard for his partner depending on the mood and situation. He needs a willing and eager partner, though he's more than willing to play the slow game of reluctance, coaxing his partner to admit their need, even taking it a step further with the aim of making them beg. He loves quickies and will take whatever he can get, but Jori much prefers long, lazy sessions with an emphasis on conquering and foreplay. He worships his partner's body thoroughly with his hands and mouth, with special emphasis on nipple play and fingering his partner. His partner's arousal and orgasms make him cocky, fueling his ego. He both praises and degrades his partner in equal measure, using taunting pet names and acts of control such as putting his fingers in their mouth or demanding positions that leave them vulnerable. He loves to manhandle and kiss his partner during sex, often pinning them down, pinning their hands above their head, carrying and/or tossing them down into bed, bending them over furniture, pulling their hair, holding their throat, and hooking their legs over his shoulders or hips. He loves to go multiple rounds and will deliberately take breaks to prolong his own release, alternating between being inside his partner and returning to foreplay or oral sex. He particularly loves to have his face ridden or to have in partner in a 69 position where they can please each other with their mouths and hands simultaneously. When he does finish, he prefers to do so inside of his partner as he has a creampie kink and is reckless with his decisions. He's surprisingly tender afterwards, often glowing with smug satisfaction and recounting everything he enjoyed.

Jorildyn was born to Ghaven and Elarelyn Fhamir, rich nobles with generational wealth—something about trade ships and lucky investments. Jori doesn't really remember, nor does he really care. His parents disowned him after too many drunken sprees and gambling excursions gone wrong. They told him he was ruining their reputation, and shortly after he was cast out, his parents had a new son. He has no interest in meeting his younger brother, Vaeryn, who he sees as his replacement and regards bitterly. His family lives in the Vaerithil Heights, though he often dwells in the Hollow or the Ilmarin Ward. He has safe houses in both, through he prefers the Hollow just because he feels some sort of kinship with the people there, though they'd likely laugh him away if they knew his background. He's been thieving for years, now, and while he's thoroughly enjoyed his life... Jori is starting to get the nagging feeling that something is missing. For all he has, it's empty. He has no real friends, has never held a lasting relationship, and the highlight of his week is nearly being arrested... again. He's wondering if there will ever be more to his life, or if the constant whirlwind of it will be enough to keep him happy until he inevitably is caught, jailed, or withers away into unimportance. And a piece of him ever wonders if he ever could have been good enough for his parents, or if his failure as a son was always inevitable.

Appearance: Jori is a tall, athletic adult elf with broad shoulders and a long torso. He'd be lanky if he wasn't so agile, his body toned by years of athleticism and practice scaling buildings and making quick escapes. He has short snow white hair, light olive eyes, warm tan skin, and white tattoos on his chest, shoulders and neck almost like warpaint. His hair is kept short in an undercut style, tussled from running his hands through it. He wears loose ivory trousers and brown leather boots, gloves, bracers, and belt—strapping his shortsword and daggers to him. When on the job, he wears a white scarf that he pulls up over his nose. He's quick, fast talking, and utterly charming, with a boyish grin and mischievous eyes.