My Char
Name: Artinus the Last
Nick Name: The Darkened Hermit
Age: Unknown
Race: Chimer
six: Male
Appearance: Noble, ashlander complexion, long white beard and hair gathered at back. Incredibly athletic, his grip has been known to break hands.
Misc. Appearance: Heavily tattooed(think Māori style), they flow from the back of his neck down his arms and body to his feet.
Hight: 6"1
Apparel Worn Most Often: Monk's robes worn over leather dressings, reinforced with volcanic glass plates underneath.
Armor: Typical leather armor, but cunningly reinforced with Volcanic Glass between the layers of leather, making it virtually sword-proof, but keeping an unassuming appearance.
Other Apparel: Has a necklace, hidden underneath his armor, that holds a rock, rumored to have enchantments that would stop even the greatest of attacks, and gives his hands a crippling power.
Eye Color:Grey
Hair Style: Long(to hips) Gathered(Oblivion-style gathered)
Hair Color: Shock white
Skills: He has an incredible stamina, able to run for days, reflexes fast enough to pluck the feathers off of a speeding arrow, and mastery of hand to hand combats.
Weapons: 2 hands, one left and one right.
His long life has allowed him a great amount of time to perfect his fighting skills, easily able to defeat any earthly opponent with his bare hands.
Equipment Sack: A simple sack cloth bag the size of those preppy American Eagle string bags
Miscellaneous: He has no gloves, and fights barehanded.
The Heroes or the Dissenters?: Hero
Rank?: Hero
Why are you there?: To simply be what his culture always strived to be, an ambitionless bastion of good that can and will make a difference in troubling times.
Background Information: He was long ago in a society of Tibetan-like monk ashlanders, who had ceased living with the other tribes following arguments about Daedric worship and their warlike mentality. They struck out on their own, roaming from Skyrim to the Summerset Isles, devoting all time on simply learning what could be learned while still alive.
Sadly, on a trip back to Vvardenfell, some corrupt, blood hungry Ashlander outsourced a company of mercenaries to hunt down and kill the tribe. In the middle of the night, while Artinus was further up Red Mountain on a spiritual trek, they came in and slaughtered everyone, leaving noone but Artinus to come back to the camp and find everyone he knew burning to ashes in the remnants of the camp. He lost his emotion for a long while after that, and devoted his next long years to the slaying of every single person involved.
He was so ruthless and uncaring, when the Dark Brotherhood came in his sleep to offer him membership, he merely snapped the speakers neck, striking her down before her poisoned blade was drawn. as an old man though, after drenching his hands in the blood of his final kill, the vengeance complete, he realized that his time on this plane had been spent in bitter bitter sorrow, and resentment, the exact OPPOSITE of everything he had been taught.
Knowing he had only a few years left, he prayed to whatever gods were out there to let him redeem himself. His answer came in him as a messenger of Boethiah granted him eternal life, but to life as a loner, as an outcast, and marked him with tattoos bearing demonic power within, driving people away, but granting him the second chance he wanted.
So he spends his time trying to come to terms with what has been done, what HE has done, and how he spent all that time without an impact, without a legacy, and resolves to makes the rest of eternity a place worth living forever in.
(cheesy and cliche i know, but c'mon its 2am haha)
» Tue Dec 29, 2009 3:34 pm 
