Post by signasul on Dec 19, 2008 22:57:20 GMT -5
Name: Seaogrot the Broken
Age: 32
Gender: Male
Species: Rabbit
Physical Appearance: Brown body with a cream white stripe from the bottom of his chin to the base of his tail, on his chest is a hideous scare, left by the plank of burning wood and his left paw is burned and disfigured but still functional. His cloths consist of a dirty blue tunic and leather glove covering his left paw crusted in blood.
Personality: No loyalty, no mercy, no allegiance. Seaogrot simply exists now, no longer even excepting his own body as his true self, he has become more of a force then an individual. He uses beasts for his own purposes then kills them or has them killed. He is constantly thinking of ways to advance the cause of general chaos and terror.
Weapons and Personal Items: A wide verity of small daggers
Job: Nothing, he wants to destroy the abbey.
Weaknesses/Strengths: he is good at sneaking, better then a fox, and highly intelligent, quick in combat with a huge tolerance for pain, but he is physically weak and often must surround him self with ‘helpers’ weather they be willing or not. As well, if you find you self a victim of his, he has a habit of talking at length to the beasts before he kills them, don’t use this opportunity to try to reason with him, it will only make him kill you faster, instead focused on trying to escape.
History: Seaogrot Waterfinder, was born in a village in the far west to a good family. At an early age he showed an uncanny aptitude for science and art. He married a young hare named Lilly and had three children, he was a teacher in the village school. He had a good life.
Then ten years ago, a vermin war lord attack his village, a local contingent from Salamandastron fortunately was able to help defend the town. However in the middle of the battle, a few burning arrows hit his house, by the time he had gotten to it from the school, the flames had spread across the whole structure. He burst through the front door, only to be greeted by a falling timber which struck him in the chest, he pulled it off him self, badly burning his left paw in the process. He fought his way through the flames and pain, until reaching his own bed room and the rooms of his children, his wife lay dead beside the crib where his young child lay gasping for air, the other two having died trying to protect them selves from the smoke. He grabbed the baby and wrapped him a towel and ran for the door.
He made it out side, crying and pleading historically to the badgers as they fought the vermin horde for some beast to help him, but despite being in ear shot they did nothing. After a few minutes it became apparent to him that the pup had died. He sat there for hours as the battle continued, until finally the badgers came out from the dust victorious. In a grief filled haze he took a shovel and started mindlessly digging beside the now smouldering ruins of his house, muttering for some one to help him, no one came, the badgers retreated to the local tavern, whilst Seaogrot finished the grave.
After it was done, the otter, still in a daze from the events and the grief and the now unbearable pain, he walked out into the battle field and observed the corpses of the fallen, vermin and good beast alike, he saw that both had been killed in the same fashion, by the sword. The Vermin killed indiscriminately, while the badgers killed for glory. He found himself starting to believe that the badgers were to concerned with gaining some sense of glory that they had forgotten to help him, that they were responsible for the death of his family, but not only the badgers, but all beasts arrogant enough to set them selves apart of vermin based on species or mannerism. They all deserved to die.
So there covered in ash and blood, his cheeks heavy with tears, he began to giggle, then laugh, finely starting to howl uncontrollably and roll in the death around him. Tarring the blue tunic off a still dying rat and the leather glove from the severed arm of a badger, he emerged like a wrath in the night from the now silent battle field and headed towards the tavern were the army drank to their victory over the horde, and poisoned the ale.
He stalked Mossflower, looking for hypocritical good beasts, until learning of a place, a place were all were excepted, so he found his way there, and found what he thought of as more of the same, good beasts setting them selves aside from the world, believing they were better then the vermin. From then on he sought to destroy what he saw as the biggest beacon of hypocrisy, and immorality in the whole of Mossflower, Redwall.
Relationships: None, no relatives, no family.
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Age: 32
Gender: Male
Species: Rabbit
Physical Appearance: Brown body with a cream white stripe from the bottom of his chin to the base of his tail, on his chest is a hideous scare, left by the plank of burning wood and his left paw is burned and disfigured but still functional. His cloths consist of a dirty blue tunic and leather glove covering his left paw crusted in blood.
Personality: No loyalty, no mercy, no allegiance. Seaogrot simply exists now, no longer even excepting his own body as his true self, he has become more of a force then an individual. He uses beasts for his own purposes then kills them or has them killed. He is constantly thinking of ways to advance the cause of general chaos and terror.
Weapons and Personal Items: A wide verity of small daggers
Job: Nothing, he wants to destroy the abbey.
Weaknesses/Strengths: he is good at sneaking, better then a fox, and highly intelligent, quick in combat with a huge tolerance for pain, but he is physically weak and often must surround him self with ‘helpers’ weather they be willing or not. As well, if you find you self a victim of his, he has a habit of talking at length to the beasts before he kills them, don’t use this opportunity to try to reason with him, it will only make him kill you faster, instead focused on trying to escape.
History: Seaogrot Waterfinder, was born in a village in the far west to a good family. At an early age he showed an uncanny aptitude for science and art. He married a young hare named Lilly and had three children, he was a teacher in the village school. He had a good life.
Then ten years ago, a vermin war lord attack his village, a local contingent from Salamandastron fortunately was able to help defend the town. However in the middle of the battle, a few burning arrows hit his house, by the time he had gotten to it from the school, the flames had spread across the whole structure. He burst through the front door, only to be greeted by a falling timber which struck him in the chest, he pulled it off him self, badly burning his left paw in the process. He fought his way through the flames and pain, until reaching his own bed room and the rooms of his children, his wife lay dead beside the crib where his young child lay gasping for air, the other two having died trying to protect them selves from the smoke. He grabbed the baby and wrapped him a towel and ran for the door.
He made it out side, crying and pleading historically to the badgers as they fought the vermin horde for some beast to help him, but despite being in ear shot they did nothing. After a few minutes it became apparent to him that the pup had died. He sat there for hours as the battle continued, until finally the badgers came out from the dust victorious. In a grief filled haze he took a shovel and started mindlessly digging beside the now smouldering ruins of his house, muttering for some one to help him, no one came, the badgers retreated to the local tavern, whilst Seaogrot finished the grave.
After it was done, the otter, still in a daze from the events and the grief and the now unbearable pain, he walked out into the battle field and observed the corpses of the fallen, vermin and good beast alike, he saw that both had been killed in the same fashion, by the sword. The Vermin killed indiscriminately, while the badgers killed for glory. He found himself starting to believe that the badgers were to concerned with gaining some sense of glory that they had forgotten to help him, that they were responsible for the death of his family, but not only the badgers, but all beasts arrogant enough to set them selves apart of vermin based on species or mannerism. They all deserved to die.
So there covered in ash and blood, his cheeks heavy with tears, he began to giggle, then laugh, finely starting to howl uncontrollably and roll in the death around him. Tarring the blue tunic off a still dying rat and the leather glove from the severed arm of a badger, he emerged like a wrath in the night from the now silent battle field and headed towards the tavern were the army drank to their victory over the horde, and poisoned the ale.
He stalked Mossflower, looking for hypocritical good beasts, until learning of a place, a place were all were excepted, so he found his way there, and found what he thought of as more of the same, good beasts setting them selves aside from the world, believing they were better then the vermin. From then on he sought to destroy what he saw as the biggest beacon of hypocrisy, and immorality in the whole of Mossflower, Redwall.
Relationships: None, no relatives, no family.
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