Sanft, The Thief


Whirling mass of flesh that communicates through Venetian masks


Shadow: Sorcery. The manipulation and generation of darkness.

Flame: Sorcery. The manipulation and generation of flames.


The Darkest Hearts of Man: Sanft is an animated mound of flesh and meat - it uses various kinds of masks to communicate its mood and thoughts, only rarely resorting to speech.
Mine to Give: Sanft is very possessive of things it perceives as its own, whether that is people or objects.
And the Fire Grows: Sanft is empowered by flames and warmth.


  • Magic: 5 (Shadow)
  • Magic: 5 (Flame)
  • Culture (Latin, Arabic): 2 (Good)
  • Perception: 4 (Great)
  • Physical Defense: 4 (Great)
  • Mental Defense: 4 (Great)
  • Body: 3 (Great)
  • Mind: 4 (Good)
  • Action Points: 3
  • Load Limit: N/A
  • XP Held: 0
  • XP Used: 0

Personal History

The Lords hoarded the fire. They knew the cold was the only thing keeping the lower castes from revolting. Shrouded in that soul eroding fog, they couldn't ever muster up a moment for rebellious thought.

Every day at noon, they would gather at their feast tables and stuff themselves, saying and doing nothing but gazing at the collected flame. After the food, they would eat the flame itself, drawing it into their bodies, embracing the warmth.

I saw this every day, and tolerated it. I couldn't do anything but. I was too cold to think of anything but serving the Lords diligently. But one afternoon, after they'd absorbed the fire, and I stood, waiting for them to return…my dull eyes couldn't help but run over that brilliant flame.

And I had a thought. A traitorous thought. It was just a spark, an ember at this point…surely, no one would notice if I…just…


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