Kii

She watches everyone panic as the yellow smoke fills the room. She smiles gleefully at the pandemonium she has created. 
It doesn't get much better than this. 
The smoke is harmless . . . Well, mostly harmless, but what's some minor lung deterioration between people that genuinely despise each other? After multiple people fall to the floor coughing, the instructor creates a gust of wind that forces the smoke out of the area. Kii pouts and shoves out her lower lip. No one gets my jokes.

"C'mon Kenny! No one will get the joke if you interfere!" He glares at her while kneeling to help someone up.

"Kii, I should have known. And how many times have I told you to call me Instructor Kendrikson?" He continues to help the other students up and checks to make sure they're breathing properly. He glares at her again and points his finger to the doorway. She sighs and walks out of the room and into the hallway. She stomps and kicks at a crumpled piece of parchment on the floor, trying to make as much noise as she can with her tiny legs. She can't help it that no one is as funny as she is, it's in her blood. Being a gnome makes her want to pull pranks and tinker. Being a Cleric with the trickster domain . . . Well, that's just self explanatory. She walks into the headmaster's office and sits in a chair. The attendant nods, walks over to his door and knocks. Opening it slightly she says, "Sir, it's Kii here to see you . . . again."

"Again?! What in the Gods names did she do this time?" The attendant looks over at her, then back inside the door, lowering her voice to a whisper.

"I didn't ask. I can't say some of the things she has done. It makes me uncomfortable."

There is a long silence, then a loud sigh from within the office, "Send her in."

She ushers Kii into the interior office and directs her to a seat her size then leaves the room closing the door.

"Kii," the headmaster says rubbing his eyes. He grabs some spectacles  out of his breast pocket and lays them lightly on the bridge of his nose. "What happened this time, hm?"

"I didn't do anything wrong. There was a small leak of poison gas from something that I may or may not have planted in Kenny's class. He's totally singling me out. Probably a sizist!"

"Kenny?"

"Instructor Kendrikson or whatever." He shakes his head and sighs.

"I don't have time for this. You are not to leave your room until I send for you. Your meals will be brought to you and we will bring you a chamber pot. Now get out of my sight." He takes the glasses off and puts them back into his pocket. She slides off the chair and exits heading to her room. Man, I feel sorry for the chump that delivers my food!

Davros

"This is boring. I'm bored."
Davros sits perched on a tree branch high above the ground. This training exercise always gets under his skin as do most things. There is another Ranger hiding in the tree with him and he shushes Davros. It's nothing new. His brooding attitude has gotten him into trouble on numerous occasions even though he is the best Ranger in the fortress. He shrugs off the rebuke and continues to watch the forest floor below. I wonder what's it's like to live inside the fortress? I don't  think I could stand it. He is stationed in the forest around Helgrym's where those who need or want to be surrounded by nature stay. His mind snaps back to the present when he notices movement in the brush. Drawing the attention of the other Ranger, he signals to the movement below. He nocks a practice arrow in his bow, draws a bead on the movement and waits. After a few moments, a deer pushes through the bush. Davros sighs and releases the tension on his bowstring. He takes another look around and emits a sharp whistle that imitates a bird call. There is another rustle and Clint, Davros' wolf, emerges and growls baring his fangs. The deer darts away and disappears again and Clint gives chase. Davros smiles, a rare sight. His wolf always knows what to do whenever he is called. He returns his concentration to the task at hand. He pushes his senses to the limit and looks through the brush once more. His eyes pass over an area then snap back. A tiny spot of brown amidst a sea of lush green leaves catches his eye. Studying it, he sees it shift slightly.

"Gotcha" he mutters and draws back the bowstring until it is as taut as can be then let's the arrow fly. It scores it's target and he hears a canine yelp. A dark brown wolf falls into view and gets back up on all fours limping slightly. It slams its paw against the ground a couple of times and the paw begins to shift and change into a fist. The rest of the wolf's body shimmers and changes with it, slowly turning into a humanoid form.

"God dammit, Davros!" A husky voice comes from the human standing where there was a wolf only moments before, "I know that was you! What the hell!?" He yells brushing at the white chalk mark the arrow made on his thigh.

"You lose, Daedriin," Davros replies.

"This is practice, we're all part of Helgrym's. You don't need to actually try to injure the Druid team. Take it easy."

Davros doesn't respond, he just fades back into the tree. The druid grunts and walks away, limping.

I can't wait to get a real mission. Everyone here sucks. He sighs. One down, four to go.

Lachlan

Secret secrets are what's fun, secret secrets can buy someone. Their loyalty or their coin are the cost for her services, or to keep her quiet. Lachlan excels at learning secrets. It is her profession, her job.
And she loves her job.
Well, most of the time . . .
She is listening in on a particularly boring conversation and is becoming agitated.
There has to be someone that has something profitable to steal. Her slight half elven figure has always been great for hiding. Not quite as thin as a full elf, but that suits her perfectly. There are a lot of half this's and half that's here at Helgrym's fortress. They accept everyone. The downtrodden, the destitute, the unwanted and the ne'er-do-wells. Especially the ne'er-do-wells. The conversation she is listening to no longer interests her. She leaves the shadows and looks at the two men that are talking.
"You two are seriously the most boring people in the world." She blurts making them jump. Clearly, they were oblivious to her presence.
They look at her, at each other, then back at her.
"I'm sorry halfbreed, we weren't  aware we had an audience."
One of them says. He is trying to insult her. It doesn't, but she can't let the slight pass. In a blur her short swords appear in her hands and she slides behind the man who'd spoke out of turn.
"How much would you say you need your vital organs?" She asks, feigning genuine curiosity. To her delight, he actually starts sweating.
"That's a neat trick," She says, inching the blade ever closer.
"They don't let you kill other members here!" The man sitting across from them says.
"That's true," She says looking disappointed, "But I'm very good at hiding." She perks up and smiles like a wolf that's just happened upon a flock of unguarded sheep, "Maybe even bodies." She's winks at him. The man with the sword in his back yelps as it pokes through his shirt and pricks him.
"I-I . . ." He stammers.
"Use your words," She draws out the last word playfully.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend." He manages to say.
"Oh, you didn't, but thank you for that. I take what I said back. You guys aren't boring, you're so nice." She smiles, turns and walks away, whistling a rhythmless tune.

Valic

He looks at the color of his skin. Green tinted skin. The skin that has made him both an untouchable and a commodity. Everyone wants a half orc around when things get rough. Letting out a sigh, he turns his attention back to his book. He reads the same sentence three times and sets the book down rubbing his eyes. I'm not in the mood.
Standing up, he stretches his long muscular legs and rolls his shoulders. He grabs his robe, ties the cord and then walks out of his room and into the hallway.
Bustling as usual.
He heads for his frequented location and those traveling the halls give him a wide berth. Stopping in front of his destination, he takes a deep breath. The fragrant perfume mixed with sweat and sex waft through the curtains and fill his nose. He smiles and the torch light gleams off his protruding bottom teeth.
Here I'm always accepted . . . Well, as long as I've got the money. 
He enters through the curtains.
"Ah, Valic!" A voice sings to his left. He looks over at her, his eyes start at her feet and work their way up, drinking in her beauty. Her tanned skin and luscious curves drive him wild and her dark curly hair falls perfectly over her shoulders. Her sheer silk robe is light purple and hugs her body in all the right places, teasing him with its near translucence.
"Marishka, my dear," he nods, smiling again. His husky voice a sour note in response to hers.
"This will make twice today! We can hardly keep up with a man as dashing and insatiable as you." She winks.
He blushes, "I haven't paid you to lie to me yet."
She laughs lightly and it is like music to his ears.
"Who will you be choosing tonight?" She asks raising an eyebrow.
Gods, even that is sexy.
"When will we drop this facade and you finally confess your undying love for me?" He asks, his grin widening.
Marishka walks toward him, swaying her hips seductively with very practiced moves. She is, if nothing else, a professional. Valic shifts uncomfortably and his cheeks start to burn as she gets nearer to him, his smile faltering. She reaches her right hand up to his face and brushes it on his cheek. His heart speeds up at her touch and his palms moisten.
"Oh Valic," She speaks softly, nearly whispering and moving her mouth to his ear, "I would break you."
She pulls away and lightly slaps his face. He let's out a breath he didn't realize he was holding and tries to play it off with a chuckle.
"Now, who do you want?" She asks, the sarcastic mirth back in her voice.
Valic has a very particular type of woman that he is attracted to. If asked if he likes tall or short, blonde or brunette, thick or thin women, he simply replies, "Yes."
"You know me Mari," he says, "Whoever is free next."
She nods, "Of course, your wish is our command," taking his hand, she guides him through another set of curtains to his girls room.

Helgrym's Fortress

"It's fucking cold out here today." Druegar says.
He and another guard sit outside Helgrym's fortress the same as always. The other guard shrugs but doesn't say anything. Druegar takes shifts with other guards, but his are much longer. He guards the gate as much as he can. He has a skill that they need out here. He remembers faces.
No, remembers faces isn't a strong enough phrase for what he can do.
Everything about a person, down to their smell or the pores in their face, he remembers. Even though everyone employed by Helgrym wears a signet ring when they are out on a mission, and woe unto anyone that kills a Helgrym worker, he is the second line of defense. The Keep has wards on it that hold anyone he deems unworthy in place. The same thing happens to anyone that tries to attack him. He doesn't know how it works, and frankly, he doesn't give a damn. It's big magic. And it works in his favor so why worry?
Helgrym treats his people right, even though no one has ever seen him. He is like a benevolent phantom and that's just as well with Druegar.
But there are a few things that he does wonder about . . .
Like, this door is, as far as he knows, the only entrance. That being said, how has he never seen any food, water or any other provisions move past him here. They also get paid in gold every time they go on a mission, but he's never seen the chumps that go out and come back bring in any money. It's a massive keep full of dorms, brothels, kitchens, libraries, training grounds and more.
How do they do it?
And why does . . . Whoa, this is a dangerous line of thinking. Maybe he shouldn't worry about it. Ask too many questions and you're likely to disappear like the poor bastards that tried to muscle in on Helgrym's turf. Besides, even if no one has seen Helgrym, they've got Reznik. He may not not be much for conversation, but if any danger comes around, it leaves when it sees his scary ass. Druegar shivers. The cold doesn't bother him as much as the thought of going up against Reznik. The man exudes terror. He pushes the thoughts from his head and goes back to watching the gates. It’s what he's good at. And he'd prefer it if they continued to need him as much as they seem to.