Rayne Vincent
Posted: Sun Jul 06, 2008 2:23 am
Player Name: Alex. Nice to meet you.
Name: Rayth Vincent
Age: 21
Race: Human - Shifter (Werewolf)
Height: 5'11''
Weight: 190 lbs
Physical Description:
One look at Rayth sends chills down most men's spines. A black hooded cloak draped over his shoulders, with the hood worn low enough for the shadow to be cast over his eyes is all that most strangers or enemies see of him before they fall.
The cloak is well worn at the edges, weathered through years of travel and wandering through the grasslands and deserts surrounding Thar Shaddin. The silver in sheen steel hilt of his sword peaks through his right side of the cloak when the scabbard is hung from his belt, and his dark, weathered leather clothing is augmented in strategic areas with steel reinforcements; chain link over his heart and chest, plating over his shins and forearms, and little steel plates in the knuckles of his gloves.
His gait reflects the honed confidence and primal intent of a hunter, a warrior. His broad shoulders support a muscular, sinewy frame built strong through combat and toned through extensive training with his weapon. Rayth's skin is tanned and the combination of the wind and sun have given it a rough appearance when supporting dirty blonde stubble and framed by a cascade of wavy dirty-blonde locks.
The tattoos on his arms, chest, waist and back remain almost always hidden underneath his clothes, although the old Latin phrasings framed by images and paintings of symbolic significance to him bear a weighty reminder of his family's past...
His eyes, almond in shape and piercing in gaze and intent are a hazel in color. Brown flecks circle the edges and an orange nimbus explodes like a sunburst from his iris. Contrary to his rough, unforgiving masculine energy and appearance, his eyes shine with character and, generally, enthusiasm or lust. His smile has the ability to melt many a young woman's heart, or cause the roughest barkeep to burst out laughing, and the sly smirk can barely contain Rayth's personality.
His scars tell stories earned in battle, and his features tell of years worn already on his youthful spirit.
Possessions:
His cloak, dark, rough cloth with the threads worn by years of use and heavy traveling covers him from hood to mid-shin and billows out slightly around him when he walks.
His leather clothing is dark, almost black in appearance and tone and shows obvious signs of wear and tear. Utilitarian in nature, it consists of a black cloth under-shirt, leather vest reinforced with chainmail around vital chest areas, two leather bracers reinforced with steel plating, two leather gloves with steel on the knuckles, dark leather pants with steel greeves and dark boots with strong soles. Perfect for traveling long distances comfortably and light enough to move quickly in battle.
His belt holds a pouch of coins, usually around 50 Bishani heavy, and the scabbard for his long-sword.
His sword, his weapon, never leaves his side. Although quite talented and trained in hand-to-hand combat, his steel sword is roughly three and a half feet in length, remarkably razor-sharp, and the hilt is a silver crossbar wrapped in dark black leather. Almost another limb, Rayth leaves it in his black scabbard with the cloak over it most of the time, and it is the last article of his to leave his body.
The inside pocket of his cloak usually contains various maps and the current bounty he is working on.
Powers or Strengths:
Werewolf All of the fun benefits of a werewolf shifter, although he almost NEVER switches to full wolf form. He uses the strength enhancements and speed increases, as well as the faster healing to overwhelm his foes in battle.
Also, his constant shifting to half-wolf has left his personality much rougher than it began. The feral, instinctual side of him was released a long time ago, upon first receiving the bite of the werewolf, and it has steadily taken over his awareness since.
He acts impulsively and fights fiercely, willing to die in battle and acts fiercely passionate in even his day to day affairs. His gaze has the weight of decisive tactical calculation, cold murderous instinct, and warm animal lust wrapped into one.
Mercenary Ever since Rayth can remember being on his own, he has worked as a mercenary in one form of another. Completing any variety of tasks from assassination to errand-running, Rayth has developed quick skills in both armed and unarmed combat, as well enhanced his cunning and seductive guile to win over both the mind and heart of his prey for either entertainment or information.
Having done this for quite awhile, he is a shrewd judge of character and can quickly pick out the most defenseless targets and seek out the bounties offering the highest, and most dangerous, pay-offs.
Wanderer Years on harsh lands with harsher people have left Rayth cunning in the ways of necessity. He possesses all of the usual foraging and trapping skills, but wandering has left him quite interested in and popular in the tavern and underground scenes.
Years of experiences and story-telling have left him quite the popular one at mixed gatherings, and months... sometimes years... of solitude and self-reliance have developed a charisma people around him notice immediately.
Plus being a "Wanderer" makes him think he sounds really, really cool when introduced as Rayth Vincent, the Wanderer.
Weaknesses:
Werewolf Although it has many benefits, the wolf sharing his consciousness has left Rayth very impulsive and animalistic at times. Rayth can be over-impulsive at times, controlled by his instincts whether murderous, adventurous, or sexual in nature. This has gained him strong alligences with those around him, but has caused him to obtain many enemies who can be dedicated solely to causing him harm or pain.
His predisposition and enjoyment of combat were only accented when the wolf took over him, so he is very prone to combat at times. The bloodlust sometimes overtakes him, and his rage can be brutally expressed at times, spreading through him like wildfire and siezing his very intent from his rational mind. Fiercely loyal, he can also be brutally unforgiving if betrayed.
Mercenary Living day-in and day-out with the seediest of people has left Rayth a bit rough around the edges. Quick to crack a vulgar joke, steal, or even kill when it benefits him, his ethical and moral compass is skewed when compared to most modern, organized societies.
He worries almost exclusively about himself and his own future, no matter how much he convinces others otherwise, sucking them in and then using them as pawns to be discarded when the moment seems appropriate. He fell for his one true love years ago, only to have his heart torn out, and when he falls now, he falls hard, quick, and his warmth can only be matched by the cold void left when he leaves.
Wanderer His adventure-lust is insatiable, and Rayth will do almost anything for a story or experience. Running from guards, getting incredibly intoxicated and causing trouble, and the inability to show any true emotional trust or vulnerability are all symptoms of his wander-lust, but it manifests itself most poignantly in the void in his soul that no amount of sex, alcohol, or adventure can ever fill. And until he is able to not only wrestle with the demons of his family's past and find his true path or future, the void will always be behind the scenes consuming him.
History:
Rayth Vincent is a pseudonym. He has long forgotten, or told others that he had forgotten, his original family name and crest. The truth? Well, he doesn't know you quite well enough for that yet...
Rayth grew up in the typical middle-class household of the era. His parents were both normal in the usual sense of the word... average incomes, nice house, and their marriage appeared stable from the outside. The fighting was minimal and his childhood was enjoyable, yet the memories of another animal seemed to take over him when he slept.
The nightmares were insufferable, the pure rage, the unrestrained power were all accompanied by no words or images, just feelings and emotions that enveloped him and cooed to him to submit, to entertain them. They washed over him like a tidal wave, flowing through his veins and cascading through his muscles, coursing like pumping adrenaline.
On his 18th birthday, his parents woke him in the middle of the night draped in full length black cloaks with hoods woven into them that cast shadows over their eyes to shroud their countenance. They brought him deep into the stone cellar where minimalistic torch-light flashed shadows against the walls and sent a chilling shiver down his spine while the familiar growling and snarling came into the background of his awareness.
When he turned back to look into his fathers eyes, he was amazed to see the glowing amber of a wolf staring back at him, his face covered in sheer silver fur matted down over his features which now rippled with newly acquired muscle. His fangs shone in the light as the saliva dripped menacingly onto the floor and Rayth felt the shock, astonishment, and betrayal as this monster beside him sunk it's fangs deep into the side of Rayths neck.
The wolf inside him howled in relief as he felt his skin burn and his pores opened to the stabbing pain of fur escaping his skin. His bones broke and crumbled as they realigned into a harder skeleton. New muscle spurted out from his already sinewy body and the rage overcame him as he sunk his claws into his parents, splattering their blood all over the walls of their quaint house in the suburbs.
He awoke weeks later, the panting of the animal in his mind gradually fading away, Rayth found himself coming to in a dank hut in the middle of the desert. The pounding in his head continued for hours as the man taking care of him came in and out of the room. The man was dressed in shaman's garbs and the tounges he spoke were mysterious to Rayth.
Over the course of the next three years, Rayth traveled from city to city, wandering always on foot, clutching the sword he picked up from the desert shaman tightly on his belt, never leaving his side. Each city he traveled to, he sought out the highest bounty, the most talented swordsman, and the most proficient shifter. From each he learned to steal, kill, defend, and control... every instinct he had, and every talent he acquired.
One day, as the first moon shone in the summer months over a run-down tavern in a broken down sector of Marn, a shadowy figure strode through the mist. Rayth threw his hood back as he stepped into the Tavern, eager to begin his adventures in Thar Shaddin.
Name: Rayth Vincent
Age: 21
Race: Human - Shifter (Werewolf)
Height: 5'11''
Weight: 190 lbs
Physical Description:
One look at Rayth sends chills down most men's spines. A black hooded cloak draped over his shoulders, with the hood worn low enough for the shadow to be cast over his eyes is all that most strangers or enemies see of him before they fall.
The cloak is well worn at the edges, weathered through years of travel and wandering through the grasslands and deserts surrounding Thar Shaddin. The silver in sheen steel hilt of his sword peaks through his right side of the cloak when the scabbard is hung from his belt, and his dark, weathered leather clothing is augmented in strategic areas with steel reinforcements; chain link over his heart and chest, plating over his shins and forearms, and little steel plates in the knuckles of his gloves.
His gait reflects the honed confidence and primal intent of a hunter, a warrior. His broad shoulders support a muscular, sinewy frame built strong through combat and toned through extensive training with his weapon. Rayth's skin is tanned and the combination of the wind and sun have given it a rough appearance when supporting dirty blonde stubble and framed by a cascade of wavy dirty-blonde locks.
The tattoos on his arms, chest, waist and back remain almost always hidden underneath his clothes, although the old Latin phrasings framed by images and paintings of symbolic significance to him bear a weighty reminder of his family's past...
His eyes, almond in shape and piercing in gaze and intent are a hazel in color. Brown flecks circle the edges and an orange nimbus explodes like a sunburst from his iris. Contrary to his rough, unforgiving masculine energy and appearance, his eyes shine with character and, generally, enthusiasm or lust. His smile has the ability to melt many a young woman's heart, or cause the roughest barkeep to burst out laughing, and the sly smirk can barely contain Rayth's personality.
His scars tell stories earned in battle, and his features tell of years worn already on his youthful spirit.
Possessions:
His cloak, dark, rough cloth with the threads worn by years of use and heavy traveling covers him from hood to mid-shin and billows out slightly around him when he walks.
His leather clothing is dark, almost black in appearance and tone and shows obvious signs of wear and tear. Utilitarian in nature, it consists of a black cloth under-shirt, leather vest reinforced with chainmail around vital chest areas, two leather bracers reinforced with steel plating, two leather gloves with steel on the knuckles, dark leather pants with steel greeves and dark boots with strong soles. Perfect for traveling long distances comfortably and light enough to move quickly in battle.
His belt holds a pouch of coins, usually around 50 Bishani heavy, and the scabbard for his long-sword.
His sword, his weapon, never leaves his side. Although quite talented and trained in hand-to-hand combat, his steel sword is roughly three and a half feet in length, remarkably razor-sharp, and the hilt is a silver crossbar wrapped in dark black leather. Almost another limb, Rayth leaves it in his black scabbard with the cloak over it most of the time, and it is the last article of his to leave his body.
The inside pocket of his cloak usually contains various maps and the current bounty he is working on.
Powers or Strengths:
Werewolf All of the fun benefits of a werewolf shifter, although he almost NEVER switches to full wolf form. He uses the strength enhancements and speed increases, as well as the faster healing to overwhelm his foes in battle.
Also, his constant shifting to half-wolf has left his personality much rougher than it began. The feral, instinctual side of him was released a long time ago, upon first receiving the bite of the werewolf, and it has steadily taken over his awareness since.
He acts impulsively and fights fiercely, willing to die in battle and acts fiercely passionate in even his day to day affairs. His gaze has the weight of decisive tactical calculation, cold murderous instinct, and warm animal lust wrapped into one.
Mercenary Ever since Rayth can remember being on his own, he has worked as a mercenary in one form of another. Completing any variety of tasks from assassination to errand-running, Rayth has developed quick skills in both armed and unarmed combat, as well enhanced his cunning and seductive guile to win over both the mind and heart of his prey for either entertainment or information.
Having done this for quite awhile, he is a shrewd judge of character and can quickly pick out the most defenseless targets and seek out the bounties offering the highest, and most dangerous, pay-offs.
Wanderer Years on harsh lands with harsher people have left Rayth cunning in the ways of necessity. He possesses all of the usual foraging and trapping skills, but wandering has left him quite interested in and popular in the tavern and underground scenes.
Years of experiences and story-telling have left him quite the popular one at mixed gatherings, and months... sometimes years... of solitude and self-reliance have developed a charisma people around him notice immediately.
Plus being a "Wanderer" makes him think he sounds really, really cool when introduced as Rayth Vincent, the Wanderer.
Weaknesses:
Werewolf Although it has many benefits, the wolf sharing his consciousness has left Rayth very impulsive and animalistic at times. Rayth can be over-impulsive at times, controlled by his instincts whether murderous, adventurous, or sexual in nature. This has gained him strong alligences with those around him, but has caused him to obtain many enemies who can be dedicated solely to causing him harm or pain.
His predisposition and enjoyment of combat were only accented when the wolf took over him, so he is very prone to combat at times. The bloodlust sometimes overtakes him, and his rage can be brutally expressed at times, spreading through him like wildfire and siezing his very intent from his rational mind. Fiercely loyal, he can also be brutally unforgiving if betrayed.
Mercenary Living day-in and day-out with the seediest of people has left Rayth a bit rough around the edges. Quick to crack a vulgar joke, steal, or even kill when it benefits him, his ethical and moral compass is skewed when compared to most modern, organized societies.
He worries almost exclusively about himself and his own future, no matter how much he convinces others otherwise, sucking them in and then using them as pawns to be discarded when the moment seems appropriate. He fell for his one true love years ago, only to have his heart torn out, and when he falls now, he falls hard, quick, and his warmth can only be matched by the cold void left when he leaves.
Wanderer His adventure-lust is insatiable, and Rayth will do almost anything for a story or experience. Running from guards, getting incredibly intoxicated and causing trouble, and the inability to show any true emotional trust or vulnerability are all symptoms of his wander-lust, but it manifests itself most poignantly in the void in his soul that no amount of sex, alcohol, or adventure can ever fill. And until he is able to not only wrestle with the demons of his family's past and find his true path or future, the void will always be behind the scenes consuming him.
History:
Rayth Vincent is a pseudonym. He has long forgotten, or told others that he had forgotten, his original family name and crest. The truth? Well, he doesn't know you quite well enough for that yet...
Rayth grew up in the typical middle-class household of the era. His parents were both normal in the usual sense of the word... average incomes, nice house, and their marriage appeared stable from the outside. The fighting was minimal and his childhood was enjoyable, yet the memories of another animal seemed to take over him when he slept.
The nightmares were insufferable, the pure rage, the unrestrained power were all accompanied by no words or images, just feelings and emotions that enveloped him and cooed to him to submit, to entertain them. They washed over him like a tidal wave, flowing through his veins and cascading through his muscles, coursing like pumping adrenaline.
On his 18th birthday, his parents woke him in the middle of the night draped in full length black cloaks with hoods woven into them that cast shadows over their eyes to shroud their countenance. They brought him deep into the stone cellar where minimalistic torch-light flashed shadows against the walls and sent a chilling shiver down his spine while the familiar growling and snarling came into the background of his awareness.
When he turned back to look into his fathers eyes, he was amazed to see the glowing amber of a wolf staring back at him, his face covered in sheer silver fur matted down over his features which now rippled with newly acquired muscle. His fangs shone in the light as the saliva dripped menacingly onto the floor and Rayth felt the shock, astonishment, and betrayal as this monster beside him sunk it's fangs deep into the side of Rayths neck.
The wolf inside him howled in relief as he felt his skin burn and his pores opened to the stabbing pain of fur escaping his skin. His bones broke and crumbled as they realigned into a harder skeleton. New muscle spurted out from his already sinewy body and the rage overcame him as he sunk his claws into his parents, splattering their blood all over the walls of their quaint house in the suburbs.
He awoke weeks later, the panting of the animal in his mind gradually fading away, Rayth found himself coming to in a dank hut in the middle of the desert. The pounding in his head continued for hours as the man taking care of him came in and out of the room. The man was dressed in shaman's garbs and the tounges he spoke were mysterious to Rayth.
Over the course of the next three years, Rayth traveled from city to city, wandering always on foot, clutching the sword he picked up from the desert shaman tightly on his belt, never leaving his side. Each city he traveled to, he sought out the highest bounty, the most talented swordsman, and the most proficient shifter. From each he learned to steal, kill, defend, and control... every instinct he had, and every talent he acquired.
One day, as the first moon shone in the summer months over a run-down tavern in a broken down sector of Marn, a shadowy figure strode through the mist. Rayth threw his hood back as he stepped into the Tavern, eager to begin his adventures in Thar Shaddin.