Etheral Talon
Posted: Sat Mar 17, 2007 10:23 pm
Name: Etheral Talon
Age: 34
Race: Human
Height: 6ft flat
Weight: 180-190 pounds depending on what he has recently been up to
Occupation: Bounty Hunter and Mercenary
Physical Description: A Green eye flashes through his dark black hair that falls just shy of his shoulders. A pale scar travels from just above his left eye down to the crest of his cheekbone; the scar gives his face a cruel look and takes away from his once, handsome visage. His skin is tanned wherever it has been exposed to the sun and fair where it has not. He is six feet of taunt sinewy muscle, conditioned for quick movement and fast reactions rather then bulky over balanced and over exaggerated movements. The old battle wound has rendered his left eye useless so it is hidden behind a black leather patch, worn to a dull gray.
Black leather gauntlets cover his hands from the middle joint of his fingers to halfway up his forearms. These offer minimal protection to his fingers and wrists on top while the palm is left completely open to allow for a better grip on swords, wearing a dull brown shirt that stops mid bicep under a thin black leather vest that gives more of an illusion of defense, rather then really offering any sort protection. Loose black pants lead into knee high boots that are well worn and stained with mud. The entire outfit is assembled to allow for maximum movement to complement his swordsmanship to its highest possibility. He usually wears a black cloak and hood on when traveling to protect from weather and identification. A leather thong is tied around his neck and leads into his shirt, where a strange gnomish medallion rests.
Possessions: Slung across his back is a great sword which point to pommel is only a foot shorter then Etheral. The blade itself is nearly four feet in length leading from a three inch wide base to a barely inch and a half wide tip. The metal is milky white color free of any notches or blemishes. Three fullers are imprinted into the blade for perfect balance. The cross guard is polished black stone with supple brown leather for the grip that seems to have never been used. The pommel is shaped from silver into what appears to be a tooth of some kind. Resting in a plain black scabbard Etheral has never drawn the sword nor has named it. On his hip however is a plain long sword of normal steel with a brown leather grip stained with blood and sweat. A simple steel cross guard and pommel decorated the hilt. Around his neck is a strange gnomish device whose use is unknown to Etheral. It is worked in the familiar gnomish style of a twisted metal disc with the only decoration being an orb of black glass in the middle, and some strange runes carved on the back. His monetary value can be summed up in maybe 10 bishani and a few silver pieces
Powers or Strengths: His occupation requires fighting skill and that is all he possesses. While no where near an amazing swordsman he measures his skill by whoever he kills. While his humility is good for his ego it does not exactly get him hired when asked about his deadliness he responds with,” I’m as good as those I kill and sometimes not even that good”. Fighting can only get you so far and Etheral prizes himself with a sharp wit and great observation skills, allowing him to be skilled at gambling and reading peoples intentions. The gnomish medallion around his neck has never shown any kind of special power. What he doesn't know is that this device ,when activated, can absorb a certain amount of astral enery (magical attacks) and eventually re-direct or use the energy to reinvigorate the wearer.
Weaknesses: Etheral’s greatness weakness is his complete cynicism of the human race, and at the same time his compassion for those less fortunate then him. Any kind of charity from people not himself cause him to look for hidden motives and manipulation which makes him very easy to manipulate in turn. His trust is hard won and betrayal will come at the cost of your life.
History: Etheral Talon was born a soldiers son to the king of a forgotten country. His father Anteus trained Etheral since the moment he could hold a practice sword, instructing him in the art of warfare and strategy. Imprinting warrior instincts into his young mind and a deep code of honor and sacrifice for the greater good which was the continuation of the kingdom at all cost. Where Etheral comes from the women are only used for breeding but his father taught him respect to all even those inferior; which the women were considered. On his sixteenth birthday the kingdom was attacked and overrun by its neighboring rivals. The capital city where Etheral and his father lived and guarded the king was being sacked. Twenty soldiers surrounded the king who stood in front of his throne with his ancestral blade drawn, the milky white steel glowing faintly. The heavy oak doors had the end of the throne room burst into hundreds of splinters as invaders rushed through.
It was four to one, and only one survived. His father was killed by two swords next to his king who was had been stabbed by five, Etheral was suffering from a wound through his right shoulder and the loss of his left eye. But the invaders in the hall were dead or dying but more were still alive inside the walls ransacking the city. His father was still alive, just barely, and ordered his son to run and never return. Etheral obeyed but took the kings sword in the process, after seeing how the king had cut down half the men. He would become a greater warrior than his father or his king and one day he might come back and reclaim his homeland. Such were the thoughts of teenagers.
Etheral escaped with the sword and his life, wandering through a forest for days as his wounds festered. He finally collapsed on the outskirts of a small trading post. There the town healer sewed him up and a recruiter enlisted him onto a mercenary company. For fifteen years Etheral fought other mens' wars killing hundreds, never achieving his fathers level of perfection in his mind. He lived in a million different villages, tents, and caves. He knew many women and many loves but the only evil he ever knew was his own people. He accumulated many more scars in many more battles but never once unsheathed his king’s great sword. Leaving the mercenary group with his the sheathed great sword he set out to hunt down those who were wrong and unjust. He became a bounty hunter.
Rarely using his real name and only staying around long enough to catch criminals, he made his living. Though he had arrested his fair share of the wicked his renown was little and his worth even less. The most valuable reward he was paid was the medallion around his neck after retrieving a gnome. The gnome had stolen the plans for some kind of handheld light machine that gave of a brilliant white light when activated, but caused you to become blind for three days afterwards. The gnome who hired him to retrieve the plans had given him the medallion, instead of the 50 bishani he was owed. Saying the medallion was worth more to a warrior then any amount of money. So far it’s only productive ability was keeping his chest cool on hot nights. Now after hunting down a horse thief in Shim, he has made his way to Marn in search of more work and someone who can appraise the chunk of metal and glass around his neck.
Age: 34
Race: Human
Height: 6ft flat
Weight: 180-190 pounds depending on what he has recently been up to
Occupation: Bounty Hunter and Mercenary
Physical Description: A Green eye flashes through his dark black hair that falls just shy of his shoulders. A pale scar travels from just above his left eye down to the crest of his cheekbone; the scar gives his face a cruel look and takes away from his once, handsome visage. His skin is tanned wherever it has been exposed to the sun and fair where it has not. He is six feet of taunt sinewy muscle, conditioned for quick movement and fast reactions rather then bulky over balanced and over exaggerated movements. The old battle wound has rendered his left eye useless so it is hidden behind a black leather patch, worn to a dull gray.
Black leather gauntlets cover his hands from the middle joint of his fingers to halfway up his forearms. These offer minimal protection to his fingers and wrists on top while the palm is left completely open to allow for a better grip on swords, wearing a dull brown shirt that stops mid bicep under a thin black leather vest that gives more of an illusion of defense, rather then really offering any sort protection. Loose black pants lead into knee high boots that are well worn and stained with mud. The entire outfit is assembled to allow for maximum movement to complement his swordsmanship to its highest possibility. He usually wears a black cloak and hood on when traveling to protect from weather and identification. A leather thong is tied around his neck and leads into his shirt, where a strange gnomish medallion rests.
Possessions: Slung across his back is a great sword which point to pommel is only a foot shorter then Etheral. The blade itself is nearly four feet in length leading from a three inch wide base to a barely inch and a half wide tip. The metal is milky white color free of any notches or blemishes. Three fullers are imprinted into the blade for perfect balance. The cross guard is polished black stone with supple brown leather for the grip that seems to have never been used. The pommel is shaped from silver into what appears to be a tooth of some kind. Resting in a plain black scabbard Etheral has never drawn the sword nor has named it. On his hip however is a plain long sword of normal steel with a brown leather grip stained with blood and sweat. A simple steel cross guard and pommel decorated the hilt. Around his neck is a strange gnomish device whose use is unknown to Etheral. It is worked in the familiar gnomish style of a twisted metal disc with the only decoration being an orb of black glass in the middle, and some strange runes carved on the back. His monetary value can be summed up in maybe 10 bishani and a few silver pieces
Powers or Strengths: His occupation requires fighting skill and that is all he possesses. While no where near an amazing swordsman he measures his skill by whoever he kills. While his humility is good for his ego it does not exactly get him hired when asked about his deadliness he responds with,” I’m as good as those I kill and sometimes not even that good”. Fighting can only get you so far and Etheral prizes himself with a sharp wit and great observation skills, allowing him to be skilled at gambling and reading peoples intentions. The gnomish medallion around his neck has never shown any kind of special power. What he doesn't know is that this device ,when activated, can absorb a certain amount of astral enery (magical attacks) and eventually re-direct or use the energy to reinvigorate the wearer.
Weaknesses: Etheral’s greatness weakness is his complete cynicism of the human race, and at the same time his compassion for those less fortunate then him. Any kind of charity from people not himself cause him to look for hidden motives and manipulation which makes him very easy to manipulate in turn. His trust is hard won and betrayal will come at the cost of your life.
History: Etheral Talon was born a soldiers son to the king of a forgotten country. His father Anteus trained Etheral since the moment he could hold a practice sword, instructing him in the art of warfare and strategy. Imprinting warrior instincts into his young mind and a deep code of honor and sacrifice for the greater good which was the continuation of the kingdom at all cost. Where Etheral comes from the women are only used for breeding but his father taught him respect to all even those inferior; which the women were considered. On his sixteenth birthday the kingdom was attacked and overrun by its neighboring rivals. The capital city where Etheral and his father lived and guarded the king was being sacked. Twenty soldiers surrounded the king who stood in front of his throne with his ancestral blade drawn, the milky white steel glowing faintly. The heavy oak doors had the end of the throne room burst into hundreds of splinters as invaders rushed through.
It was four to one, and only one survived. His father was killed by two swords next to his king who was had been stabbed by five, Etheral was suffering from a wound through his right shoulder and the loss of his left eye. But the invaders in the hall were dead or dying but more were still alive inside the walls ransacking the city. His father was still alive, just barely, and ordered his son to run and never return. Etheral obeyed but took the kings sword in the process, after seeing how the king had cut down half the men. He would become a greater warrior than his father or his king and one day he might come back and reclaim his homeland. Such were the thoughts of teenagers.
Etheral escaped with the sword and his life, wandering through a forest for days as his wounds festered. He finally collapsed on the outskirts of a small trading post. There the town healer sewed him up and a recruiter enlisted him onto a mercenary company. For fifteen years Etheral fought other mens' wars killing hundreds, never achieving his fathers level of perfection in his mind. He lived in a million different villages, tents, and caves. He knew many women and many loves but the only evil he ever knew was his own people. He accumulated many more scars in many more battles but never once unsheathed his king’s great sword. Leaving the mercenary group with his the sheathed great sword he set out to hunt down those who were wrong and unjust. He became a bounty hunter.
Rarely using his real name and only staying around long enough to catch criminals, he made his living. Though he had arrested his fair share of the wicked his renown was little and his worth even less. The most valuable reward he was paid was the medallion around his neck after retrieving a gnome. The gnome had stolen the plans for some kind of handheld light machine that gave of a brilliant white light when activated, but caused you to become blind for three days afterwards. The gnome who hired him to retrieve the plans had given him the medallion, instead of the 50 bishani he was owed. Saying the medallion was worth more to a warrior then any amount of money. So far it’s only productive ability was keeping his chest cool on hot nights. Now after hunting down a horse thief in Shim, he has made his way to Marn in search of more work and someone who can appraise the chunk of metal and glass around his neck.