Ross was a lethal warrior. As a frequent to the Masters of Destruction syndicate, he met some of Hyrule's elite criminals. He had even been a partner of Vilk on many a mission. He was trained to be an assassin, but he specialized in the art of being a bard. He wasn't the best instrument player, but he dabbled into several different fields of battle. After all, he wasn't as blessed, or cursed, as Vilk to have mastered every field of combat.

Above his jerkin and cotton pants, he wore a black cloak, absorbing the heat, but used to it. He had been in Papara too many times. Whether it be for work or for fun, especially with the ladies. He was an elite soldier, but he always put women over the mission. He needed better work ethics. Little did he know that Vilk despised him for his foolishness. Someday it would get Ross killed, and he deserved it. On his back was a 2 handed sword in a sheath, as well as a shield and a sturdy bow. A quiver was latched onto his belt, as was a bomb bag, and a sack, presumably full of rupees. A flute sat on the inside pocket of his cloak.

His hood was up, disguising his face from the general public, and, more importantly, all the Gerudo's he left. He had no known last name, so should he have to mention his name, they wouldn't have a way of proving it was him. Should his hood have been down, his strawberry blond hair would stick out like a sore thumb. So would his practically flawless face. He was even a foot shorter than most people in their twenties, but he was wearing boots that raised his height, but only barely.

As he strolled through town, investigating for anything interesting, he saw the "Help Wanted" sign. Advertising a heist wasn't odd in this town at all, and Ross knew that. These guys seemed like legit criminals (oxymoron). Then there was rewards. "Sounds interesting," he muttered to himself. He approached the door, and gave it a swift knock. Waiting for his answer, he stood up as straight as possible, trying to make himself look taller.


OOC:
Ross
L13
Sheikah
Vagabond//Bard

Stats
SPI: base (1) + Zora Spirit L2 (2) = 3
AGI: base (3) + racial bonus (3) = 6
DEF: base (1) + AGI (6) + L1 Jerkin (12) = 19 (21 if Deku Shield equipped)
STR: base (2) + Goron Strength L2 (2) = 4
INT: base (3) + Hylian Intelligence L1 (1) = 4
HP: base (30) + Exceptional Health L2 (30) + SPI (3) = 63
SPL: base class (2) x level (13) + SPI (3) = 29

Talents
Zora Spirit L2 ( included in stats)
Goron Strength L2 (included in stats)
Hylian Intelligence L1 (included in stats)
Exceptional Health L2 (included in stats)
Call Din L1
Spirit of Nayru L1
Elemental Burst L2
Train: 2H Sword L2
Train: Bow L1
Train: Boomerang L1

Equipment:
2H Deku Sword
Deku Dagger
Deku Bow
Bomb Bag
Flute
Deku Shield
Fire Scroll
Scroll of Elemental Burst
Gerudo Training Glove
L1 Jerkin
Ammo Bag

DMG
Deku Dagger: base (5) + STR (4) = 9
2H Deku Sword: base (14) + STR (4) = 18 (-1 chance to hit)
Deku Bow: base (7) + STR (4) + Gerudo Training Glove (1) = 12
Bomb: base (9) = 9
Magical: base class (2) + level (13) + INT (4) = 19

The locks could be heard being undone on the door, and it opened to reveal a man with blonde hair. He had young features, and he looked as innocent as a child. He was about to say something when Jiro stepped up next to Yassen. "Excuse me. You didn't get my approval. Get off the porch, stand before me, and tell me how you'd be useful to us on this mission." Shiro sighed. "You're always so rude. Show some manners." Jiro nodded, and sat down by the sign again. "Yessir." He motioned for Yassen to get down off of the porch. "Now tell me. What skills do you posses to make this operation run smoothly?"

An airy tune could be heard drifting through the mostly quiet village, as a man in a tight-fitting black robe made of silk swaggered down the path. His pursed lips whistled the same few bars over and over again, and his right index finger was out and pointing to the side, twirling a dagger in circles through the hole in the handle. He had not a care in the world at the moment--Parapa was so long gone from any royal scrutiny, blending in was pointless, whether against customs or not. His bright red face and scalp reflected the desert sun harshly as he glanced around the place. His eyes alighted on a sign, propped up in front of a dwelling with a very appealing message scrawled across it--Reward, eh?

Yassen's eyebrows rose and his pompous smirk widened as he marched jauntily up to the door, his whistling a bit off-key due to the handicap his smirk had placed upon his mouth's movement. He rose his left hand, rapped it on the door three loud times, and tried to hide his wince as he rubbed the now-sore knuckles against his hip to ease the pain, the dagger around his right finger wobbling a bit as he nearly lost it, but soon settling back into it's hula hoop-like motion.

OOC: First time using Yassen individually in a non-JaR topic...ought to be interesting.

The town sat quaintly near the shore of Parapa as it normally did, today, being cooler than most. A man with a scythe sat outside one of the many shacks that littered Parapa village. Ever since it had become more a bandit's town, King Harkanian found of little concern to him whether or not the people there were comfortable. Not sending much money toward the village, it now looked almost poor, and not very inviting. The man was dressed completely in white, and he was sitting next to a sign that read:

<center>Help Wanted</center>
<center>Heist being pulled tomorrow night. Need men for the job. Rewards will be administered to those who help.</center>

Of course, signs like these were a common sight in this town, and were responded to more than you'd think. Greedy thieves, and men simply trying to get by would often apply for such missions. Though, just as often as men applied, men didn't return from the mission.

One man, and woman as well, were standing near the sign talking to the man in white. They conversed briefly, and were welcomed inside the shack. The stepped up onto the porch, opened the door, and walked inside. The door could be heard being locked from the inside.