Post by signasul on Dec 20, 2008 10:24:16 GMT -5
Name: Signasul
Age: 39
Gender: Male
Species: Weasel
Physical Appearance: Typical weasel colorings, is skin is crisscrossed with shallow scars from flying debris and war. His eyes are a combination of green, blue, red, yellow. He is clothed in a tan uniform consisting of a trench coat, tight fitting pants and a red shirt. He has black boots and on his coats upper lift sleeve is a symbol of his old unit, a gold triangle, in which is the figure of a charging winged horse in blue, under this are the words “Phasmatis, Northern Frons”.
Personality: Militaristic, always working, always thinking. He is often homes sick and at times day dreams of what may be happening there. He is chivalrous and kind, except to badgers. He has an intense hatred, to the point of bigotry, this can some times get in the way of things. He is deeply opposed to giving up his weapons and war like misdemeanor. He is unwilling to even conceder full assimilation into abbey life, choosing often instead to go as far as sleeping in the grass outside its walls (he is also used to this and finds it very comfortable). He is a very light sleeper and is never far from a weapon, proper or improvised. He dose not like discussing the past, and protects his personal belongings religiously, even gong so far to requesting to be buried with them. He is a natural leader and will take charge of any situation unless told otherwise. Do not call him a vermin.
Weapons and Personal Items: the only weapon that survived his journey from his home to Mossflower is a dagger that he keeps very close to himself, its handle is black and its blade is tinted green, no one has ever seen him sharpen it, he says it never needs to be sharpened. The other item of some curiosity is a circular medallion inscribed with his name and a number of… well numbers. He also keeps with him a journal (he says anyone who reads it will never be heard from again, though he is probably kidding, still like most of his things he is highly protective of it).
Job: Guard duty is something he excels in, as well as patrolling, and interrogation.
Weaknesses/Strengths: He is very strong, very agile, and a very quick thinker, but he is also a short fuse, and very, very brutal. He dose not trust or even work with Badgers, this can be a problem if he is presented with a situation where cooperation with them is necessary. He gets enraged at the name vermin.
History: he tells very little of his past, the only thing he has been willing to share about the last 36 years of his life is that he was in a war, and it had to do with badgers. He gives no outher details, no one had even heard of him or seen him until he arrived in Mossflower.
Relationships: none, or at least none he is willing to share.
Age: 39
Gender: Male
Species: Weasel
Physical Appearance: Typical weasel colorings, is skin is crisscrossed with shallow scars from flying debris and war. His eyes are a combination of green, blue, red, yellow. He is clothed in a tan uniform consisting of a trench coat, tight fitting pants and a red shirt. He has black boots and on his coats upper lift sleeve is a symbol of his old unit, a gold triangle, in which is the figure of a charging winged horse in blue, under this are the words “Phasmatis, Northern Frons”.
Personality: Militaristic, always working, always thinking. He is often homes sick and at times day dreams of what may be happening there. He is chivalrous and kind, except to badgers. He has an intense hatred, to the point of bigotry, this can some times get in the way of things. He is deeply opposed to giving up his weapons and war like misdemeanor. He is unwilling to even conceder full assimilation into abbey life, choosing often instead to go as far as sleeping in the grass outside its walls (he is also used to this and finds it very comfortable). He is a very light sleeper and is never far from a weapon, proper or improvised. He dose not like discussing the past, and protects his personal belongings religiously, even gong so far to requesting to be buried with them. He is a natural leader and will take charge of any situation unless told otherwise. Do not call him a vermin.
Weapons and Personal Items: the only weapon that survived his journey from his home to Mossflower is a dagger that he keeps very close to himself, its handle is black and its blade is tinted green, no one has ever seen him sharpen it, he says it never needs to be sharpened. The other item of some curiosity is a circular medallion inscribed with his name and a number of… well numbers. He also keeps with him a journal (he says anyone who reads it will never be heard from again, though he is probably kidding, still like most of his things he is highly protective of it).
Job: Guard duty is something he excels in, as well as patrolling, and interrogation.
Weaknesses/Strengths: He is very strong, very agile, and a very quick thinker, but he is also a short fuse, and very, very brutal. He dose not trust or even work with Badgers, this can be a problem if he is presented with a situation where cooperation with them is necessary. He gets enraged at the name vermin.
History: he tells very little of his past, the only thing he has been willing to share about the last 36 years of his life is that he was in a war, and it had to do with badgers. He gives no outher details, no one had even heard of him or seen him until he arrived in Mossflower.
Relationships: none, or at least none he is willing to share.
