Pas plus tôt, Crow fut triste de voir cette folie éclater. Pendant un bref moment, il a été surpris, mais quand son nouvel employeur a collé son propre bras dans la bouche de l'adversaire et l'a forcé à le mordre, seule la justice fraîche a rempli ses veines. Bien sûr que le Soldé s'abaisserait à quelque chose de si fou.
Ce n'était pas important maintenant. Ils pourraient tous être tués de la même façon. Ce qui importe, c'est que l'on puisse esquiver le nœud du sportif. Crow n'avait pas l'intention de rencontrer sa fin ici, paralysé et coincé sur le sol du Wal.
Il a sauté sur la table. Il était assez robuste, étant fait de plastique dur et de métal commun dans les cours de festin. Alors qu'il partait du sol, il tirait son couteau de la gaine et s'envolait au-dessus du chaos. Avec un peu de chance, il n'aurait pas à souiller sa lame de sang.
Un pied a touché l'épaule de quelqu'un. C'était une touche légère, à peine plus qu'un robinet, mais Crow l'utilisa pour sauter sur les épaules d'un autre homme. Sa légèreté est venue à portée de main ici : la plupart des gens auraient frappé quelqu'un au sol, s'ils avaient essayé ce qu'il faisait maintenant. Mais ces hommes étaient encombrants, et il était mince. Ça a fonctionné, presque parfaitement.
Puis un bras s'est levé vers lui. C'est ce que Crow a reconnu comme un Lasblaster. Retenu à l'envers dans l'emprise de l'homme, c'était un peu plus qu'un club, cherchant à le frapper au sol. Crow a réagi presque instantanément, mais pas assez vite. Il a esquivé l'arme, mais le bras qui la tenait a brossé la sienne, l'a paralysée. Une lance de douleur lui a tiré dans le bras.
Crowley hurla et jeta son couteau dans le bras de l'homme, frappant l'os avant qu'il ne s'arrête. Les doigts se déchiraient, se desserraient autour du lasblaster. Sachant qu'il n'avait que quelques secondes, Crow enveloppa ses jambes autour de la gorge de l'homme criant, maudit avec une frénésie toujours croissante à la douleur dans son bras boiteux. Il a mis la poignée de son couteau dans ses dents et a arraché le lasblaster de la main de l'homme. Puis il a frappé fort sur le crâne de l'homme, les laissant tomber tous les deux au sol.
Un seul d'entre eux a atterri les pieds en premier. Crow n'a épargné aucune pensée de remords à l'égard de l'inconscient, ou de l'homme mort, il a laissé derrière lui pendant qu'il boiteait vers la charrette. Il a jeté le lasblaster dans les genoux de l'homme à capuchon avant de monter à l'arrière du véhicule. Il a craché son couteau dans sa main et l'a rangé. "Départons, compagnons punis." Les mots avaient le goût de cendre dans sa bouche : à quel point il était tombé bas.
| NAME |
 Crowley "Crow" Brightwing 
| DEPARTMENT |
Originally Born among the Topdwellers.
| AGE |
21
| TRAITS |
 Awoken (Arrogant/Clear-Headed/Resourceful)
The Topdwellers always consider themselves to be the most enlightened group of the Wal. After all, their lives are full of real dangers, and real emotions. The petty squabbles of the Cereai, the Nevergrown and the Dorfs, it's all meaningless compared to the desperate thrills of fighting against the dire birds which travel the rafters. This leads topdwellers like Crowley to hold no illusions about the dangers of the Wal, and leaves them of sounder mind and gives them excellent improvisational skills, better equipped to survive these perils. Unfortunately, it also makes relating to the Grounded more difficult.
 Determined
Stubborn to a fault, Crowley will let nothing stand in the way of his recovery. There are medicines in the Wal which can regrow limbs, good as new. There are stories and legends of all varieties. Combined with his arrogrance, Crowley can come off as abrasive and crass, but can eventually be cajoled into doing the right thing. Sometimes.
 Crippled
After Crowley's tragic fall, his left hand was broken, and healed badly. Though he is capable of moving it slowly, and lightly grasping objects, he is unable to wield a weapon effectively, nor can he climb the grapples of his people back to his home. This also leaves him far more open to other injuries, as he is unable to wield a weapon and shield at the same time, nor can he fire two-handed Sporting Goods.
 Agile
Despite his fall, Crowley is a Topdweller. Their speed and dexterity are stuff of legend: even some Grounders know of the great Merle Wingplucker, who single-handedly defeated a flock of dire pigeons by dancing around an enraged Sekyuritee bot, and brougth death to the supposedly-mythical dire duck (by outrunning it through a series of stockerbots which shot the duck, instead of him). Before his fall, he was one of the best climbers in his tribe. Of course, his light weight and slender form will fetch him a quick death at the hands of anyone who catches him.
Crowley's sense of balance is also incredibly refined, from past days swinging between the rafters. His damaged arm is still capable of balancing him as he moves, so his balancing ability is still roughly the same as it used to be.
 Strengthened
After healing from his fall, Crowley was forced to adapt or die. Forced to use only one arm to avoid the agonizing pain, he developed a much greater amount of strength in his right arm to compensate for his left, and now climbs through a combination of leaping, aerial inversions, and sheer force of will. His grip strength is incredible, as is necessary for a climber. Luckily for him, most things in the Wal can be climbed with only three limbs, including the Topdweller Training Ground (enormous swingsets conjoined together over the years to be a massive jungle gym, hidden deep within The Wal).
Despite this, unless he can fix his other arm, he will never be able to climb as quickly or as safely as the other topdwellers. Every climb is a risk.

| EQUIPMENT | - Weapons, armor, trinkets, pets, etc. Don't go overboard and what you take should make sense with your character.
 Knife
Part of the Sporting Goods section is a place known as The Tinkling Wall, where rows upon rows of sharp knives, held in place by fiendish plastic cases and security racks. One of the Topdweller ritual raids involves a trip to the Tinkling Wall, to try and find loose security racks, and steal the knives within. Crowley was a part of one such raid before the fall, and acquired for himself an eight-inch steel knife.
 Tactical Birdfeed
Crowley's trump card. While the Topdwellers fear and fight the dire birds with every waking moment, some of the more intelligent among the rafters came up with the brilliant idea of mixing birdfeed with a few herbs particularly fragrant to birds. With the recipe considered a secret among the Topdwellers on pain of death, the TB can be used to summon giant pigeons, robins, or sparrows to a particular location. Unfortunately for Crowley, he has only a small amount of the stuff left, and does not know the recipe to make more. Normal birdfeed just doesn't have the same kick to it.
 Clothes
As with most Topdwellers, Crowley travels light. There is plenty of food around The Wal if one knows where to look, and all Topdwellers learn how to scavenge from an early age. All he really needs at all times is the clothes on his back, and the tools mentioned above.

| BIOGRAPHY |
There comes a time in every Topdweller's life when they must find their place among their peers. This can be as one of the stealthy raiding parties, who swoop to the floor of the Wal and prowl the various departments, looking for supplies they can hoist to the world above. Some serve the tribe as Raptors, serving as the first line of defense against the dire birds which stalk the rafters. Still others work as Rockscis, exceptionally clever people who manage supplies, come up with new combat methods, or work to improve the quality of life of the tribe.
Whatever their position, all Topdweller youths find their place in the First Flight, a ceremony which involves several trials of the different facets of Topdweller life. Any topdweller can participate in the First Flight more than once, provided five Stocking cycles have passed.
Crow never even got through his first ceremony. Although doing well on the raiding and creativity portions of the First Flight, during the combat portion, things went disastrously wrong. While attempting a dangerous swing between rafters to strike at the backside of a dire canary, an unexpected wing flap sent Crowley tumbling on hs grapple. He became entangled in the rope, and his grapple dislodged. He fell some distance before, by some miraculous stroke of luck, the grapple found purchase again. The wrenching in his left arm was agonizing, and he swung into a Shelf.
The village of the unstocked Shelf, named Providence by the inhabitants, were kindly enough to attempt to set his damaged arm, to no avail. Still, thanks to their care and kindness, Crow was able to recuperate enough to begin attempting climbs again. He stayed in Providence (which was really quite the misnomer, all things considered) until he was one day able to climb down from the Shelf to the floor beneath. He took nothing with him but his TB, knife, and clothes.
He never thanked the Shelffolk for their kindness, either.