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"Making You look Pretty" -Edmund Edmund - c.1590 -Edmund "The Hunch"- Born on the 17th of Malin's Welcome, 1571 Origins unknown to most, Edmund has often been seen strolling from city to city, muttering constantly to himself. He appears around 5'4" and 240lbs, his hair sprouting from his scalp in mismatched places, often giving him a wild look. Born with an underbite, he is often seen as a half-orc abomination in the eyes of most, not giving him time to show his true colors. In a life filled with hate and scorn, Edmund often bides his time, slowly learning so to improve himself, ready to bust out of his ugly shell. -Family and Friends- "To know true loneliness, stare into the depth of his heart"- Unknown scribe, c1587 Abandoned at birth due to his looks, Edmund grew up on the streets and in the forests around Johannesburg. Depending on his somewhat unknown luck, Edmund managed to scrounge up enough food day to day to merely survive, his stomach often causing his to cry in pain at night, the empty ache left unfilled. Growing up alone, his childhood was filled with discrimination, be it from his kind or others, often mocked by the other street urchins as unwanted. Unable to change his life, Edmund rarely thought of his origins, his parents in particular, his only remnant a small ornate patch, sewn into the hood upon his head. Kin of none and friends unknown, Edmund has little to lose. Knowing that, his dreams are weighty, often saving for an unknown plan, his thoughts hidden by an ugly grin. -Possessions- "A man of few articles has nothing keeping him back" -Deitrich, c1300s -Knarled Staff- Edmund is usually seen with a staff at his side, not known if used for support of if he knows how to wield it. Made out of a limb from a remnant of the world tree, the staff remains light yet sturdy enough to deal with most problems, both big or small. Made either by him or precursors before him, the staff lays bare to runes across the majority of the staff, giving an eerie feeling to wandering eyes. -Aurum Studded Gloves- Disfigured from birth, born with stubby fingers. Edmund's life has been hard. Unknown to most he is missing a finger and a bit of another. Not wanting to be known as a cripple as well, Edmund long planned on a way to hide it, in this case being the use of gloves. Saving up for quite awhile, Edmund managed to pay for a pare of nice gloves, not being cheap as he knew he would need them for a long while. Made from the tough leather of Hansetian bulls, the material is both durable and flexible under his touch. Not knowing what life would throw at him, Edmund eventually took the time to line most of the area with small bits of aurum, his task expanding over a few months. -Personality- W.I.P Sorry falling asleep at my desk. its 6:40am and im sleepy. Will continue when I awake :D
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Nicknames: Avery, Black Sun Age: 181, as of March 27th Gender: Male Race: Lich Status: Undead Description Height: 6'8 Weight: 70 lbs Body Type: Skeleton Eyes: Nonexistent Hair: Bald... Skin: Nonexistent Markings/Tattoos: None Health: Immortal Personality: Chances are the first thing someone would notice about the Lich, is how territorial it is. The Lich is oddly obsessed with very broad concepts of etiquette and manners. It expects those who enter its domain to be respectful and obedient, and if they do not cooperate for even a moment, chances are their stay will be permanent. The Lich is unpredictable in many aspects, simply because of the time it takes in planning. It may be quick to anger, but it is certainly not quick to strike. The Lich is thoughtful, tactical, yet ruthless and manipulative in this sense. Inventory: A blade of wretched, onyx metal, tainted steel. At times a bow and a quiver of arrows. Depending on the situation, various other weapons, such as an Orcish maul from a spoil of a duel. Further Details: Despite the Lich's apparently fragile state, its skills in combat from its life before suits it to be a dreadful opponent. To make it even more of a challenge, its master has bestowed to it, its own set of armor, forged from tainted steel. Coupled with the fact that it cannot feel pain, and can fight until its body is smashed to bits, it is also capable of draining the essence of any living thing it touches... Woe to the one who finds itself in the Lich's clutches. Life Style Alignment*: Lawful Evil Deity*: (Acknowledges) The Aspects Religion: (Acknowledges) Druidism Alliance/Nation/Home: The Gravelords, None, The Lich's Woods Job/Class: Cranky, old guy that murders people in the woods. Title(s): Deathknight - coined by its master Profession(s): Warrior Special Skill(s): Life draining Flaw(s): The Lich clings onto remnants of its former life with undeniable passion. It consistently battles with what it is, both embracing what it became, and loathing itself as well. For a magical creature, it actually only knows very very little magics, and must compensate for this with fury and brute force. On top of this it constantly manipulates the living. It is a truly wretched individual, in mind, soul, and body. Weaponry Fighting Style: Favors the shortsword, it is aggressive and typically holds little regard for defense due to its state of 'immortal' being. Trained Weapon: Specifically swordsmanship and daggerwork, the Lich is versatile however and capable of wielding a large warhammer if required to. Favored Weapon: The shortsword Archery: Adequate, but certainly not his first choice in weaponry. Biography Parents: Mother - Haler'wyn Iheiuhil'leyu, Father - Lucion Sallas Siblings: None Children: Lenniel'onn Spouse: Elorna Lle'hileia Pet(s): None History -To be added- Artwork -To be added-
