Vulnar
Jun 21, 2008 23:36:22 GMT -5
Post by Rhaxta on Jun 21, 2008 23:36:22 GMT -5
Full Name: Vulnar
Other name: Vuln, the Wolf, Lieutenant.
Race:: Human
Side: Empire.
Birthplace: Belatona
Age: 26
Gender: Male.
Birthday: 21st December.
Eyes: A curious shade of light brown with hints of amber.
Hair: Dark brown, roughly cut short, longer at the back. Doesn't seem to want to stay flat.
Weight: 180lbs.
Height: 6''4
Magic User: Nope.
Preferred Weapon(s): His one-handed war Axe, which is the only weapon he bothered to spend money for looks as well as practicality. He also carries a large hunting knife, and a crossbow.
Personality: Vuln is of a curious nature, though it only strikes as curious as most horrible things are. He is very critical and self serving, his high-paying job not enough to quench his thirsts for blood and money. Strangely optimistic for such a dark soul; if he can get himself into trouble he can get himself out of it. He doesn't care for anyone else's feelings, often says what he thinks and feels without a care for present company. He is egocentric, and very big-headed.
Vastly intelligent in the language of maneuvers and weaponry, it is remarkable how often he overlooks common-sense, especially once he's been drinking. A lot of the time, then. He thinks of women as mere possessions, a misconception from seeing so many in the slave markets. A fair few in there because of his own doing. Though he'd treat them as mere cattle Vuln finds fresh excitement in any strong-minded women that fight back. He does enjoy breaking spirits....and bones.
Appearance: Imagine a tree, wrap it in some skin. This is Vuln. Built like an ox. His torso and arms are only slightly above average strength, though his back is strong. All the rest of his weight and strength are in his legs. Crafted into this form by a life in the military. He has a rather handsome face, though his nose is crooked from the many times it has been broken during drunken brawls. A chiseled jaw- most of the time covered in stubble - is scarred by a knife fight that 'got a little out of hand' as he would say.
Likes/Dislikes: He enjoys drink, women, and his job. Though he often rebels against orders so he can adapt to easily accomplish his own selfish deeds. He manipulates his men telling them of direct orders, though he is only wanting them to do it so he doesn't have to round up the next load of slaves for the market. He loves money.
He dislikes elves, the weak and children. It's safer to say he dislikes all but himself, in all honesty.
Strengths: His physical strength, knowledge of military tactics, weaponry and the battlefield. His cunning.
Weakness: He often overlooks things, and lacks considerably in common sense in all but the military. Easily bribed
Family: A brother who is also in the military, though stationed elsewhere. His mother passed away when he was young so there was nothing stopping his fathers influence on his sons to join the military and be as close to testosterone factories as they ever could be.
Brief History: After many years of waiting, Vuln's father finally had a son. Twins, infact. Though being a military man he rarely saw his own boys. When he did, he was forever shouting at them for any sign of weakness. Tears, whining, all forbidden and shameful in his eyes.
As the boys hit tender age of five their mother passed away, and finally Roman stepped up to the challenge of being a role model to his sons, whom he rarely bonded with.
Vuln; his son, first born of the twins, seemed to thrive in the new, uniform way of life. He taught them to hunt, to fight, to ignore compassion and empathy until it was rotting and forgotten in the back of their minds. He had been driven mad by the faces of the men he killed, he didn't want his boys being distracted so.
When Vuln and his brother were seventeen, their father resumed his usual trips to the pub. Often returning with a different fluzie each night. A horrible role model to his sons though he was, Vuln still cared for him dearly, and took to heart everything his father did. When the boys hit twenty years they went their different ways, both in the military as their father would allow nothing else, though stationed in different places.
Vuln thrived, and over the years he rose in rank to Lieutenant, only one thing held him back. Greed. Often him and his troops were late for regroups because he had ordered they stayed behind to salvage, and capture any survivors from any onslaught they caused. Over time Vuln established an agreement with a trader in Uru^baen. He brings the prisoners of war, of any varying age, sex and race. The trader pays him a hearty sum of gold, and he leaves with a heavier wallet and his greed soothed for the evening. Now however, it is not enough that he only brings the survivors from any battle or pillage. Oh, no. He purposely keeps as many alive as him and his men can possibly handle, often going 'hunting' for traveling parties and especially those of elven nature. Though it wasn't just his dislike for elves that his father programmed into his mind that made him do this intentionally, they were worth quite a lot, after all.
Anything extra: Through his trading connections he has a slim supply of a drug that leaves magic-users powerless for some time. It would come in useful if ever he got an elf he'd like to bring back to Uru^baen to sell to the king..
Password: [[Track record]]
[[ I...MIGHT add more. I'm not sure what I would though, haha]]
