Post by Fenris on Aug 4, 2012 13:39:07 GMT -5
GENERAL
Full Name: Fenris
Race: Elf
Age: 35
Gender: Male
Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual
Birthplace: Tevinter Imperium
Residence: None.
Affiliation: None.
Occupation: No jobs for Fenris. No jobs, because Fenris wasn't allowed to have a job. Except to be a tool. He's a living weapon in a manner of speaking.
Religion: Not the religious sort, exactly.
COMBAT
Class: (WarriorCharacter Stats:
Strength: 2
Dexterity: 3
Willpower:
Magic:
Cunning: 1
Gear:
The first thing you probably notice about Fenris is his rather strange equipment. Sporting a chestpiece of overlapping steel plates, come complete with shoulderplating, gauntlets and shinguards created in the same manner, they together create quite a fascinating illusion. He moves in a manner that more resembles flowing, only enhanced by the overlapping steel plates on his armor, and is usually seen wielding a slightly curved longsword two-handed in combat. He is prone to changing his style and blade often, however, often resorting to using the longsword one-handed and drawing out a long, curved dagger or throwing knives to supplement his needs in the situation.
APPLICATION
Cold, cold, cold. Brrrr. No, forget the cold, remember why you're here. The mage. Standing in the cold winternight air, he could almost blend in to the snow. Almost, but his frame was rather visible against the snow - more visible than he hoped for, at least. Anyway, there wasn't much to fear. Just a quick...hit... and then... flee. The mage had no idea that an extremely dangerous lunatic was nearby - he relished in the tile had gave himself, no, gloried in it - a lunatic that hated mages. Fenris chuckled, rubbing his temples to combat the cold. It was remarkably funny how entertaining he found killing mages. Sometimes he just wanted to cast his head back and laugh at the mere thought of it - but so far he could control himself rather easily. He knew that he lusted the blood of every mage on Thedas, and that sometimes his bloodlust got the better of him. Dangerous, the bloodlust. Mostly for the mages, but also to himself - it just didn't allow him to think very clearly when it really came. Like a tidal wave rushing over you, carrying you back to an ocean of rage.
The moon rose quietly on its journey across the sky, illuminating the streets with its dim light. Fenris could almost see the hut; a stout wooden structure seen against the dark sky as an even darker shadow. Fenris moved to the house, taking long strides, surrounded by the glow and power of lyrium. He very nearly rounded to go in through the door, but then remembered his ability. The glow of lyrium was suddenly there, surrounding him, casting a dim light on the ground about him. Of course. He stepped onward, naturally, towards the wooden hut - and vanished. A moment later he appeared on the other side of the wall, in the mage's bedroom. Paintings covered the walls, but the furniture was rather scarce: only one stool stood by the fireplace, its warmth long gone, and aside from that there was a floor mat and a bed where the mage laid, snoring. Fenris had always hated snoring. The blade slipped smoothly out of its scabbard and fell to behead the mage. The shock of steel cutting through flesh and bone ran through his sword-arm for a moment, but he didn't need the feeling to know it. He watched intently as the mage's head leaned backwards, ever so slowly, until it smacked on the floor, spreading blood everywhere. For a moment he considered to collect the head... but perhaps it would act as a warning to the rest of them. And truthfully, he hated the idea of carrying a head - a mage's head - around in a sack.
BEHIND THE MASK
Player’s Pen Name: I have lots. Let's stick with Darin.
Contact: miguelk977@hotmail.con
Roleplay Experience: See Darin, Alex etc.
Language(s): See Darin, Alex etc.
How did you find us?: See Darin, Alex etc.
Roleplay Sample:
See Darin, Alex etc.
Password: Gray Warden
