Slipping easily between alleys and council halls, Chamaliak is a man whose shadow stretches far longer than his name. He moves through the city with practiced ease, neither hurried nor hesitant, as comfortable among thieves as he is within the margins of power. Publicly, he is known in certain circles as a capable agent of the Thieves’ Guild, one of Aylman’s more unsavory contacts, useful when discretion matters more than decency.
Those who look closer begin to see the pattern. Chamaliak does not merely steal. He gathers leverage. He listens more than he speaks, remembers what others forget, and positions himself where secrets pass hands without notice. As a thief, he is precise. As an assassin, he is unremarkable by design. Violence, when he employs it, leaves little trace and even less explanation. He prefers influence to bloodshed, and patience to spectacle.
Chamaliak serves powerful interests not because he fears them, but because it suits him. He understands how authority functions beneath its formal face, and he exploits that knowledge carefully. When men like Aylman believe they are directing him, Chamaliak allows the illusion, content to let others underestimate how much of the game he sees. Few realize that his loyalties are transactional, and fewer still grasp how rarely he commits to a single side.
What makes Chamaliak dangerous is not ambition, but awareness. He plays long games, measures risk quietly, and leaves himself room to step away when others cannot. In a world shaped by small betrayals, Chamaliak does not merely survive them. He manipulates them, and ensures they never land on him alone.