Post by Micha the Darkness on Sept 12, 2007 11:16:34 GMT -5
Full Name: Micha the Darkness.
Age: 25.
Race: Civilised Human.
Gender: Male.
Magic: None.
Birthplace: Goodlund.
Strengths: Dextrous; Good Knifefighter; Stealthy.
Weaknesses: Defensive Personality; Fragile; Loner.
Description: Micha took his nickname from the dark clothes he wears, as well as the fact he prefers to live for the night. His hair is jet-black, and he wears a cloak of equal darkness. He is smaller than average, roughly 5' 4". He carries a dagger at his side, as well as one strapped to the side of each leg, and a concealed dagger in his upper-right arm, which he only pulls when he has little other option. He is not well-muscled yet clearly quick on his feet.
Weapons: 4x Daggers (one at waist, one on the upper-left and upper-right leg, and one on the upper-right arm, concealed)
History: Born in the Goodlund, Micha was brought up in a relatively poor family. His family farmed, though they did not do particularly well. As he was the youngest of four brothers, Micha was often outshon by them, and forced to the back of the queue when it came to praise and gestures of kindness. For the first sixteen years of his life, he spent much of his free time away from his family in the surrounding nature, where he discovered his agility and the joys of the night time. He also fashioned his first knife, which he trained with almost constantly, swinging from tree to ground and slashing at air.
When he turned sixteen, he decided to do something with his life. He moved away from his parents and brothers, to a city he had hear about as a child. There, he began his life of petty crime, stealing what he needed. However, he rarely walked the streets in day, prefering the excitement and peace that the night offered. There, he remained until his twenty-fourth birthday, where he began to wonder again. He still does, and only the Gods can guess where he will stop next, or who he will meet.
RP Sample: The bandits stepped in front of the cloaked man, blocking his way. Behind him, a third cut off his exit. The man, whose black hair was roughly cut to a managable length, sighed audibally. The bandits had made a fatal error, but maybe he would let them repent. However, which exit would he aim for? If he went back, he would have to find another route, and he really didn't want to. He barely heard what the bandit behind him had said, but no doubt it was some poor threat. Besides, he had already chosen his target. Drawing his knife by his belt, he stood realy to find. However, melee was not on his mind. Quick as a flash, his free left hand shot up to the dagger concealed on his right arm and, gripping it, let it fly into the arm of the left man in front of him. Running after it, before they could react, he tumbled into midair, grabbing the dagger from the man's arm and pushing him across the back of the head. Now, he just had to get away...
Age: 25.
Race: Civilised Human.
Gender: Male.
Magic: None.
Birthplace: Goodlund.
Strengths: Dextrous; Good Knifefighter; Stealthy.
Weaknesses: Defensive Personality; Fragile; Loner.
Description: Micha took his nickname from the dark clothes he wears, as well as the fact he prefers to live for the night. His hair is jet-black, and he wears a cloak of equal darkness. He is smaller than average, roughly 5' 4". He carries a dagger at his side, as well as one strapped to the side of each leg, and a concealed dagger in his upper-right arm, which he only pulls when he has little other option. He is not well-muscled yet clearly quick on his feet.
Weapons: 4x Daggers (one at waist, one on the upper-left and upper-right leg, and one on the upper-right arm, concealed)
History: Born in the Goodlund, Micha was brought up in a relatively poor family. His family farmed, though they did not do particularly well. As he was the youngest of four brothers, Micha was often outshon by them, and forced to the back of the queue when it came to praise and gestures of kindness. For the first sixteen years of his life, he spent much of his free time away from his family in the surrounding nature, where he discovered his agility and the joys of the night time. He also fashioned his first knife, which he trained with almost constantly, swinging from tree to ground and slashing at air.
When he turned sixteen, he decided to do something with his life. He moved away from his parents and brothers, to a city he had hear about as a child. There, he began his life of petty crime, stealing what he needed. However, he rarely walked the streets in day, prefering the excitement and peace that the night offered. There, he remained until his twenty-fourth birthday, where he began to wonder again. He still does, and only the Gods can guess where he will stop next, or who he will meet.
RP Sample: The bandits stepped in front of the cloaked man, blocking his way. Behind him, a third cut off his exit. The man, whose black hair was roughly cut to a managable length, sighed audibally. The bandits had made a fatal error, but maybe he would let them repent. However, which exit would he aim for? If he went back, he would have to find another route, and he really didn't want to. He barely heard what the bandit behind him had said, but no doubt it was some poor threat. Besides, he had already chosen his target. Drawing his knife by his belt, he stood realy to find. However, melee was not on his mind. Quick as a flash, his free left hand shot up to the dagger concealed on his right arm and, gripping it, let it fly into the arm of the left man in front of him. Running after it, before they could react, he tumbled into midair, grabbing the dagger from the man's arm and pushing him across the back of the head. Now, he just had to get away...
