Post by Griffin on Jan 1, 2009 16:38:22 GMT -5
Name: Michael Griffin
Nickname: Griffin, Griff
Gender: Male
Age: 15
Species: River Otter
Occupation: Traveler
Physical Appearance:
At first glance, the river otter wasn't anything special. He seemed quite normal for his species, with chestnut brown fur and black eyes, carrying a haversack over one shoulder. His face always showed a friendly lopsided grin. He wore a short barkcloth kilt, with two stripes on each side of his face, daubed on with a red berry dye. He didn't go armed heavily, but he held a wooden staff that served as his weapon. Well practiced in the art of wielding it, he was swift and deadly.
Possessions
Wooden Staff- Salt washed wooden staff, beaten and worn and made of sugar maple wood. It has scratches and dents, but it has always served the young otter well, so he keeps it close to paw.
Personality:
Griffin is usually cheerful and outgoing, willing to make friends with anybeast. He loves to relax, and that's what he usually does. He's not adapt at fighting, so he stays out of the way of anybeast that looks remotely like a vermin. Swords usually warn him if a beast is evil or not-he's spent his life watching for them.
Strengths:
-Trees; You may think this is a useless strength, but it isn't to Griffin. His capability of identifying trees and their uses at first glance can help him find trees used for medicines, firewood, weapons, and whatever else he needs. That's his only strength, so he's been perfecting it to make it a good one.
Weaknesses:
-Fighting; Everybeast has been through an encounter with enemies, and Griffin's no different. When he first fought a scraggly rat at the age of ten, he found out he was no good at fighting. There are strengths and weaknesses for beasts. Fighting simply isn't one of Griff's strengths.
-Cooking; Major one. Griff probably has the potential to make a good cook if he was trained. but for now, he's twice as likely to incenerate food then he is to make it well. He could probably be hired as a vermin cook to poison the enemy with his food.
History:
'There's a lot of self-proclaimed warlords walkin' around today. They haven't done anything to earn their title...I suppose that's a good thing for us. But with an increased number of em' still out there, there's a good chance you'll run into one of them. I've done so before, an' believe me, you wouldn't have wanted ta' see it. I've always 'ad a favorite sayin'. It stays wid me now, but I don't know if'n I can keep it anymore. It goes 'Only when a beast has done wrong has he earned the name vermin.''
'I had a life like anybeast else, ye' see. Parents, a 'ouse, whatever else ye' could want. I'd know a lot o' beasts, good or evil, that'd tell ye' they'd 'ad a vermin take their parents' lives. Not fer me. I left em' when I was 10. I don't even know if'n they're alive or not, but neither do I think o' them much. Survival is more important than cryin' over spilled milk. My life might've changed, but twas good as ever. While I fought to live, I found this old stick. On the shore. See, tis a piece o' driftwood, but tis' served me well. My only weapon.'
'My first vermin encounter was...brief, but scared me to death. It was there one moment. I'd turned around ta' grab my staff an' when I turned back, there was a big ole white an' gray rat starin' at me. E' ad' a big sword, a cutlass twas at that, a little less than the size of my staff. He swung it at me, an' it missed my ears by an inch. While I was thrashin' around tryin' ta' get away, I 'it the vermin atwixt the ears. Knocked 'im out cold, I did. An' then I tripped an' fell on 'is cutlass which went right intae 'is chest. It was a few minutes later, seein' fleein' vermin, that I knew I'd killed a leader o' some sort. An' there were a lot o' beasts, at least threescore, runnin'. Foxes an' rats an' weasels an' stoats an' ferrets.'
'It's a short lot what's 'appened to me, an' there it is. But I expect to add a few more chapters to my life 'istory.'
Nickname: Griffin, Griff
Gender: Male
Age: 15
Species: River Otter
Occupation: Traveler
Physical Appearance:
At first glance, the river otter wasn't anything special. He seemed quite normal for his species, with chestnut brown fur and black eyes, carrying a haversack over one shoulder. His face always showed a friendly lopsided grin. He wore a short barkcloth kilt, with two stripes on each side of his face, daubed on with a red berry dye. He didn't go armed heavily, but he held a wooden staff that served as his weapon. Well practiced in the art of wielding it, he was swift and deadly.
Possessions
Wooden Staff- Salt washed wooden staff, beaten and worn and made of sugar maple wood. It has scratches and dents, but it has always served the young otter well, so he keeps it close to paw.
Personality:
Griffin is usually cheerful and outgoing, willing to make friends with anybeast. He loves to relax, and that's what he usually does. He's not adapt at fighting, so he stays out of the way of anybeast that looks remotely like a vermin. Swords usually warn him if a beast is evil or not-he's spent his life watching for them.
Strengths:
-Trees; You may think this is a useless strength, but it isn't to Griffin. His capability of identifying trees and their uses at first glance can help him find trees used for medicines, firewood, weapons, and whatever else he needs. That's his only strength, so he's been perfecting it to make it a good one.
Weaknesses:
-Fighting; Everybeast has been through an encounter with enemies, and Griffin's no different. When he first fought a scraggly rat at the age of ten, he found out he was no good at fighting. There are strengths and weaknesses for beasts. Fighting simply isn't one of Griff's strengths.
-Cooking; Major one. Griff probably has the potential to make a good cook if he was trained. but for now, he's twice as likely to incenerate food then he is to make it well. He could probably be hired as a vermin cook to poison the enemy with his food.
History:
'There's a lot of self-proclaimed warlords walkin' around today. They haven't done anything to earn their title...I suppose that's a good thing for us. But with an increased number of em' still out there, there's a good chance you'll run into one of them. I've done so before, an' believe me, you wouldn't have wanted ta' see it. I've always 'ad a favorite sayin'. It stays wid me now, but I don't know if'n I can keep it anymore. It goes 'Only when a beast has done wrong has he earned the name vermin.''
'I had a life like anybeast else, ye' see. Parents, a 'ouse, whatever else ye' could want. I'd know a lot o' beasts, good or evil, that'd tell ye' they'd 'ad a vermin take their parents' lives. Not fer me. I left em' when I was 10. I don't even know if'n they're alive or not, but neither do I think o' them much. Survival is more important than cryin' over spilled milk. My life might've changed, but twas good as ever. While I fought to live, I found this old stick. On the shore. See, tis a piece o' driftwood, but tis' served me well. My only weapon.'
'My first vermin encounter was...brief, but scared me to death. It was there one moment. I'd turned around ta' grab my staff an' when I turned back, there was a big ole white an' gray rat starin' at me. E' ad' a big sword, a cutlass twas at that, a little less than the size of my staff. He swung it at me, an' it missed my ears by an inch. While I was thrashin' around tryin' ta' get away, I 'it the vermin atwixt the ears. Knocked 'im out cold, I did. An' then I tripped an' fell on 'is cutlass which went right intae 'is chest. It was a few minutes later, seein' fleein' vermin, that I knew I'd killed a leader o' some sort. An' there were a lot o' beasts, at least threescore, runnin'. Foxes an' rats an' weasels an' stoats an' ferrets.'
'It's a short lot what's 'appened to me, an' there it is. But I expect to add a few more chapters to my life 'istory.'
