Aewen Wael

We've crossed his path three times. Each time, he walked away lighter than he came in, at first glance. He's a thief, yes--but a scholar's thief. The kind that steals documents, not diamonds. He leaves plenty behind, including questions: why take a small pouch of coin and stupid trinkets, but leave a small (and entirely portable!) chest of gems?? We can't determine his motives, and the people he has dealings with act like they don't even know him. The man is a frustrating puzzle.

— Excerpt from Red Fang Report #77

They tell his name in the hush of Iriaebor’s alleys and along the tavern benches of Baldur’s Gate—a name spoken soft, as if it might slip away like the man himself. Aewen Wael. The thief who steals back what was stolen, they say. The scholar who walks the midnight road. The smoke between fingers. The name Aewen Wael itself must be a pseudonym--it's Elvish for "Drifting Owl", which can't be a coincidence.

There are those who claim he’s not a common rogue, but a shade in a fine cloak—one who treads both earth and dream. He doesn’t rob vaults for gold nor kingdoms for crowns. No, his prey is rarer: a letter, a locket, a scroll bound in leather that whispers of old names; the kind of treasure that breaks tyrants’ teeth when it goes missing. They tell a tale of a merchant prince who lost a book of debts—the very spine of his fortune. Six locks, three guards, one hound, and a room with only one door. Yet come dawn, the hound slept sound, the locks lay quiet, and the prince found his book gone, a single phrase carved in the table’s grain: “Book returned and fine collected.” Who took it? Some swear it was Wael. Others claim he was never there—that it had to be an inside job.

And then there’s the story of a scoundrel who cornered Wael near the docks at Scorubel, iron at his hip and blood in his eyes. The fog rolled in, thick as sheep’s wool, and when it passed, the man was on his knees—empty-handed, and empty of any memory save the echo of a single word: “Kneel.” How does a word lay a man low? How does a whisper unmake a will? The bards will argue till their voices crack, but the wise drink their ale and say nothing, because the chances are that Aewen Wael has helped them before. What is certain is this: he drifts alone, but never aimless. He hunts the cruel, the grasping, the proud—and when he finds them, he leaves them lighter, humbler, and never knowing quite how. Perhaps he's a hero, and maybe he's a villain, but he's mainly just trouble in a well-cut coat.

Character Profile

Alias: Aewen Wael
True Name: Rafin Evenshade
Age: 26
Race: Human
Height: 5’10” (178 cm)
Build: Slight but athletic, 165 lbs. (75 kg)
Hair: Short, light gray (originally chestnut brown), slightly receding
Eyes: Blue, framed by thin round spectacles
Known For: Scholar-turned-rogue, smuggler of rare texts, rumored thief with a code
Current Status: Active in trade routes between Berdusk, Iriaebor, Scornubel, and Baldur’s Gate

Overview

Once the younger son of House Evenshade, Rafin grew restless beneath the weight of expectation. His upbringing in the Temple-Library halls taught him reverence for knowledge, but also a distaste for rigid tradition. Where his family prized legacy, Rafin hungered for movement, danger, and choice.

Under the name Aewen Wael, he slipped from Evenshade’s polished stone into the crooked alleys of Berdusk and beyond. His reputation is one of a thief who steals back what was stolen—not for law or order, but for a personal code: “Return to the powerless what their oppressors clutch too tightly.”

Aewen is clever, deliberate, and rarely cruel, though his sense of humor often lands him in trouble. He works mostly alone, moving between smugglers, fence-masters, and collectors of forbidden lore. Those who have crossed him speak of odd occurrences—locks opening without a key, men disarmed without a blow, a single whispered word turning the tide of a fight. Whether trick, talent, or something stranger, no one can say.

Personality

• Core Traits: Quick-witted, methodical, with a streak of mischief. Keeps his temper leashed—until he doesn’t.
• Disposition: Friendly enough in taverns, reserved in dealings, cautious in trust. Laughs easily, even under threat—though not always kindly.
• Contradictions: Craves freedom but quietly yearns for purpose. Holds to a moral code even as he breaks the law.

Motivations

• Escape the rigid expectations of nobility and forge his own legend.
• Build a life where knowledge is treasure, not ornament.
• Unravel the mystery of the psionic force that hums in his blood—a power he neither sought nor fully understands.

Abilities & Skills

• Learned skills: Investigation, history, orienteering, cartography.
• Rogue Talents: Acrobatics, lockpicking, stealth, sleight-of-hand, social infiltration.
• Psionic Gifts (Rumored): Telepathic whispers, conjured blades of thought, and a strange power that moves objects—or men—without touch.
• Specialization: Smuggling rare manuscripts, scrolls, and artifacts. Occasionally accepts “correction jobs” (retrieving goods stolen by corrupt elites).

Relationships

• House Evenshade: Estranged, but not severed. His disappearance is an unspoken scar. Only Elenna knows fragments of his truth—and guards them fiercely.
• Callen Brightshard: Mentor and co-conspirator, presumed dead during a heist that forced Rafin fully into Aewen’s skin.
• Current Associates: Nysinia Kneesmasher, Lyra Wildthorne, Braxthar Stormheart—though they know little of his past, apart from some connection to nobility.

Public Perception

• Among Nobility: A name not spoken—yet.
• Among Rogues: A whisper with teeth. The Red Fang smuggling gang of Berdusk and Scornubel consider him a liability with a conscience.
• Among Scholars: A phantom patron. Books thought lost sometimes return with a note in neat, slanted script: “The word belongs to those who cherish it.”