Domino

Domino

 

“It’s not crime if they pay for it.”

  Race: Half-Wood Elf   Eyes: Dark brown, soft but unreadable   Hair: Long black with streaks of crimson red.   Height: 5’7”   Build: Sleek, toned, elegant with a dancer’s poise   Alignment: Neutral Evil   Class: Rogue (Arcane Trickster)   Current Title: “Madame Veil”, Whitestone cell commander of the Ashveil Ledger    

Born in the Gutter, Raised in Smoke

  Domino’s true name was lost with her childhood—burned in a raid, drowned in whiskey, and replaced by whispers in alleyways.   She was born to a wood elf outcast and a human smuggler, abandoned in the Redback Slums of Whitestone, where her first trade was picking pockets, and her first language was fear.   By age 10, she was:   Running numbers for street gangs   Learning how to fake noble signatures   Sleeping under Skaven-occupied bridges for protection   Her first confirmed kill? A man who tried to sell her to a Fenraith noble for coin. She slit his throat and left a playing card on his chest: the black spade.  

Ashveil Ascension

  At 17, Domino was caught skimming from a minor Ashveil gambling ring. She was brought before a local enforcer for punishment. Instead, she offered a better ledger, proved the operation was losing money, and killed the enforcer when he didn’t believe her.   Cormick Thorne took notice.   Rather than punish her, he offered her a position. She accepted, but never bent her knee.   By her mid-20s, Domino had:   Taken over all Ashveil activity in Whitestone   Established illegal gambling dens disguised as theatre houses   Created one of the most efficient narcotics pipelines in the Abritus Empire   Built a reputation for cleaning up problems with fire and knives  

Empire of Vice – The Ledger in Whitestone

  Domino rules Whitestone’s criminal underworld from behind a velvet curtain of illusions, seduction, and murder.   Her operations include:   Illegal Gambling Rings: High-stakes games for nobles, rigged coin tosses for the poor, and debt collection through blood.   Narcotic Trade: Specializing in Whitestone Hash, powdered elfroot, and Skaven alchemical highs.   Protection Rackets: Every shop pays. Those who don't find rats in their beds—or blades in their backs.   Assassinations: Quiet, clean, magical. Domino’s killings are styled like accidents or performances.   Skaven Connection: Works closely with Clan Clawpike, a Skaven burrow-guild beneath Whitestone that supplies her with alchemical poisons, ratmen enforcers, and even corpse disposal.   Her message to new clients: “We offer protection. From us.”  

Rivalry with Cipher Vane

  Domino hates Cipher Vane. Not just as a rival—but as a threat to her control.   She sees Cipher as unreliable, too flashy, and dangerously independent.   She’s rumored to have ordered assassins on Cipher three times, all failed.   Still, she cannot touch Cipher directly without upsetting Cormick Thorne—something she’s not ready to do… yet.   “Cipher is a spark in a powder room. Me? I built the room, sold the matches, and own the fire insurance.”   She quietly sabotages Cipher’s network with spy bribes, drug lures, and rigged contracts. It’s not war—it’s art.  

Vendetta Against the Fenraiths

  Domino’s hatred for the Fenraith Tribes is personal and absolute.   In her early teens, she was taken as tribute by a Fenraith warband after they seized control of a smuggler road.   She escaped, barely alive, and later hunted down and poisoned the Fenraith elder who ordered her branding.   To this day, any Fenraith who enters Whitestone’s underworld either dies mysteriously or disappears without trace.   She has contracts out on several Fenraith exiles, and her gambling houses are known to ban Fenraith blood entirely.   The Root of the Grudge   Long ago, before she ruled Whitestone’s underworld, Domino was a knife in the dark—a Ledger agent running assassinations, extortion, and illicit smuggling routes through the Abritus Empire.   One such smuggling network crossed into Fenraith lands—once wild, untamed, ruled not by law but by ancient oaths and blood-duels. Domino operated in the shadows, unseen, until a Fenraith chieftain caught her cell, slaughtered her operatives, and burned her ledgers.   Her own cousin, an agent named Tressa, was strung up by the Fenraiths and fed to carrion beasts. The chieftain who did it?   Ulystra’s uncle... Lirandel Fenraith.   That day, Domino did not swear revenge. She marked them in silence.   “The Fenraiths walk like their name is enough. Like fire runs in their blood. Good. I’ll show them what happens when the fire dies.”   Why She Hates Them   The Fenraiths represent pride without consequence—Domino detests that.   Their loyalty to each other runs deeper than coin, and that offends her ideology.   They refused her bribes, resisted her blackmail, and beat her assassins. That is unforgivable.   And worst of all… they made her feel powerless once. She never forgave the feeling.   “Even fire runs out of breath. And when the Fenraiths are ash. That’s all I ever wanted.”   Domino’s Long Game   She is quietly hunting what’s left of the Fenraith line—through coin, contracts, and groomed rivals in every kingdom. No armies. No war.   Just slow erosion.   She wants their name forgotten, their deeds discredited, and their legacy sold at auction—one tarnished truth at a time.   Domino to Cipher   “The Fenraiths fought gods and lived. But they didn’t beat me. That’s the difference, Cipher. Fire makes you think you're immortal. But the ledger always wins in the end.”  

Abilities and Notable Traits

  Arcane Trickster Magic: Specializes in illusions, enchantments, and invisibility. Uses Phantasmal Killer, Mirror Image, Charm Person, Misty Step.   Whisperblade Combat: A signature fighting style combining dancing, sleight of hand, and throwing knives that appear out of illusions.   False Faces: Domino can alter her appearance magically once per long rest—often using it to seduce, spy, or escape.   Crime Sense: Domino always knows when a deal is being undercut. Passive Insight of 20 on criminal matters.  

Signature Gear

  “Silkfang” Daggers: Her twin enchanted blades.   Crimson Veil: Magical half-mask that grants advantage on Deception, Performance, and Insight.   Thorn Coin: A silver coin bearing Cormick Thorne’s seal—her license to kill in his name.  

The Domino Deal with the Cinders

  Domino waited for them. Always watching.   Domino greeted them like always—sharp smile, veiled motives. Her task: Kill a rogue Fenraith.   She offered a simple contract:   “There is a rogue Fenraith. Kill her. Payment awaits.”   Simple.   But when the Cinders tracked their quarry, they found not a target—but an ally. A missing figure they had once sought. They could not kill her.   Ulystra Fenraith.   Reyn, with honesty, told her the truth of their task. Ulystra was **furious**, blades drawn. The fight was brief—she was overpowered but spared. They refused to kill her. Instead, they knocked her unconscious. That mercy would not last.   From the trees stepped Fresia Asher descendant of the bloodline of chaos, cloaked in dread, and voice like frostbite.   “You made a deal with me. Kill an Unchained… or I take you all.”   And now, she named her price:   "Ulystra… or all of you."   The Cinders stood frozen. Some reached for weapons. Some looked at Ulystra. But Genethia Roth Neth trembled.   The group considered battle. But Neth trembled—and all knew: If Genethia Roth feared her, they would not win.   She feared Fresia, and that said enough.   Reyn made the choice.   With blade in hand and soul bleeding, Reyn Thorne killed Ulystra Fenraith.   He stabbed her in the heart before being force to cut off her head, Fresia watch with an evil smirk on her face.   He took her head for Fresia’s bounty 100,000 gold. Rheana carried her body to Domino, receiving 10 cold rubies.   They said it was survival.   They said it was strategy.   They said it wasn’t supposed to go this way.   But Ulystra was still dead.    

What Domino Did With Ulystra’s Body

  She Preserved It.   In a crimson-silk shroud, Domino had Ulystra’s body embalmed using Ashveil Ledger alchemy—not to honor her, but to prevent decay, and to keep her presentable… as a trophy.   “A headless hero still inspires. But a perfectly preserved martyr? That becomes a currency.”   She Displayed It—Privately.   In her hidden chamber beneath Whitestone, Domino built a glass reliquary: a coffin of shadowglass, illuminated by everburning torches, where Ulystra’s body now rests in silence—headless, armored, revered in death more than life.   Only her most trusted lieutenants are allowed to see it. It’s not a shrine. It’s a warning.   “This is what happens to those who stand between the Ledger and the future.”   She Used It Politically.   Domino has leaked rumors to nobles and underworld brokers alike:   That the Unchained are fractured.   That heroes bleed like anyone else.   That she holds the corpse of a legend, and those who defy her may join it.   She hasn't sold the body. She hasn’t burned it. She’s kept it for power—the kind that doesn’t vanish with gold.  

Domino's Vault of Silence

  Beneath the gilded streets of Whitestone, past veiled doors only opened by blood-bound keys, lies a chamber carved from silence and shadow—a catacomb of influence, warded by arcane locks and Skaven sigils burned into obsidian stone.   In the centre of this chamber stands a blackglass reliquary, framed in silver thorns and ringed with flickering braziers burning ghostflame blue. Within it lies Ulystra Fenraith’s body—armoured, poised, preserved.   Her helm is gone. Her sword hand rests upon her chest, fingers wrapped around nothing. Her shoulders are broad, proud even in death, yet her neck ends abruptly—severed, silent, final. A silver-gold plaque at the foot of the glass reads:   "She stood unchained… and still fell."   And standing before the display is Domino.   Wrapped in crimson-black silks that flow like oil smoke, she leans forward with one hand pressed to the reliquary’s edge. The other holds a wine glass—untouched, forgotten. Her lips curl into a wicked, knowing grin.   Her eyes glimmer—not with madness, nor cruelty, but with absolute satisfaction. She doesn’t gloat aloud. She doesn’t need to.   Because this isn’t a victory of war—it’s a victory of leverage.   Behind her, a half-shadowed lieutenant whispers:   “Should we bury her?”   Domino’s response is a whisper, barely a breath:   “No. Let the world remember… what loyalty costs.”   As the flickering light dances across Ulystra’s still armour and Domino’s wicked smile, a gust of cold air rolls through the chamber.   And somewhere far above, the world forgets what it meant to be Unchained.  

She Made a Pact with a God Hand.

  Some say Domino offered Ulystra’s body—or her lingering soul—to Zonid or Zlaniz in a bloodless pact. That part of Ulystra’s memory was etched into a cursed contract, binding her legacy to the Ashveil’s control.   Whether or not that’s true, her name is now feared in whispers:   "She was Unchained. Now she is Ledger-kept."   Caladawn’s Reflection   “I once thought even death could not chain her. But now she is entombed in a cage of politics and shadowcoin. Let no one say Domino is without faith. She believes—just not in gods, or love, or truth. She believes in leverage.”    

Quote – Domino

  “People think I run vice. But I run control. They come for the smoke and games… and leave with a leash around their neck.”