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The Monster Hunter
Full Name: Henry Dwinn
Age: 65
Gender:Male
Race/Ethnicity/Species: Human, Caucasian.
Height: 5'7
Weight:120lb
Hair Colour: grey
Hair Length: Short
Hairstyle: Well kept
Eye Colour: Brown
Birthmarks: None
Tattoos: None
Scars: Several minor ones
Financial Status: Rich
Sexual Attitude: Heterosexual,
Moral Alignment: Good
Religious Alignment: Follows the god of the hunt
Reputation: Famous
Occupation: Monster Hunter
Hobbies: Reading, writing, educating.
Languages & Dialects Spoken:
English
Elvish
Dwarven
Orcish
Talents/Skills:
Talented Alchemist
Skilled Enchanter
Master Swordsman
Professional Weapon Smith
Skilled Marksman
Skilled Swordsman
Expert bomb maker
Skilled Tracker
Gifted tactician
Flaws:
Despite being fit he's out of his prime, and his physical capabilities are far below what they had once been. Forcing him to rely more on his mind then his body.
Below Average stamina
Bad knee
Several long term effects from bad injuries
Family: Mother (Deceased.)
Father (Deceased.)
Likes: Learning, warm fires, drinking (If it's expensive alcohol.)
Dislikes: Ignorance, the idea of retirement.
Backstory: Henry came from a noble house. The house had originated as Monster Hunters, but eventually left that legacy behind. At the age of nine Henry decided he wanted to bring it back. He learned about his ancestors, learning about their feats and accomplishments, and studying their notes. At the age of sixteen he went out on his first Quest. It was nothing big. A group of Goblins had been terrorizing a village.
He was successful, but ultimately the Quest ended badly for him. He sustained far too many injuries for him to continue the way he had.
He didn't make another attempt until he was twenty. After dedicating four years to studying a multitude of beasts, their strengths and weaknesses, and acquiring a multitude of weapons, he went out on his second Quest. He injured Golem.
This Quest ended much better then his first, despite being a much greater challenge.
This continued until he was twenty five. His family viewed his craft as dangerous to the house, as it could damage their reputation. So he was given a choice to give it up or be disowned. He chose the second one.
From then on he continued, dedicating himself fully to the craft. He took down a multitude of massive beasts, ranging from Dragons, to Mind Flayers, to Giants, and much more, growing in reputation and wealth, overshadowing his old family due to them severing ties with him.
Age: 65
Gender:Male
Race/Ethnicity/Species: Human, Caucasian.
Height: 5'7
Weight:120lb
Hair Colour: grey
Hair Length: Short
Hairstyle: Well kept
Eye Colour: Brown
Birthmarks: None
Tattoos: None
Scars: Several minor ones
Financial Status: Rich
Sexual Attitude: Heterosexual,
Moral Alignment: Good
Religious Alignment: Follows the god of the hunt
Reputation: Famous
Occupation: Monster Hunter
Hobbies: Reading, writing, educating.
Languages & Dialects Spoken:
English
Elvish
Dwarven
Orcish
Talents/Skills:
Talented Alchemist
Skilled Enchanter
Master Swordsman
Professional Weapon Smith
Skilled Marksman
Skilled Swordsman
Expert bomb maker
Skilled Tracker
Gifted tactician
Flaws:
Despite being fit he's out of his prime, and his physical capabilities are far below what they had once been. Forcing him to rely more on his mind then his body.
Below Average stamina
Bad knee
Several long term effects from bad injuries
Family: Mother (Deceased.)
Father (Deceased.)
Likes: Learning, warm fires, drinking (If it's expensive alcohol.)
Dislikes: Ignorance, the idea of retirement.
Backstory: Henry came from a noble house. The house had originated as Monster Hunters, but eventually left that legacy behind. At the age of nine Henry decided he wanted to bring it back. He learned about his ancestors, learning about their feats and accomplishments, and studying their notes. At the age of sixteen he went out on his first Quest. It was nothing big. A group of Goblins had been terrorizing a village.
He was successful, but ultimately the Quest ended badly for him. He sustained far too many injuries for him to continue the way he had.
He didn't make another attempt until he was twenty. After dedicating four years to studying a multitude of beasts, their strengths and weaknesses, and acquiring a multitude of weapons, he went out on his second Quest. He injured Golem.
This Quest ended much better then his first, despite being a much greater challenge.
This continued until he was twenty five. His family viewed his craft as dangerous to the house, as it could damage their reputation. So he was given a choice to give it up or be disowned. He chose the second one.
From then on he continued, dedicating himself fully to the craft. He took down a multitude of massive beasts, ranging from Dragons, to Mind Flayers, to Giants, and much more, growing in reputation and wealth, overshadowing his old family due to them severing ties with him.
The Bounty Hunter
Full Name: Craril Hornan
Age: 60
Gender:Male
Race/Ethnicity/Species: Half Elf
Height: 6'0
Weight: 90lb
Hair Colour: Chestnut
Hair Length: Long
Hairstyle: Loose
Eye Colour: Green
Birthmarks: None
Tattoos: None
Scars: Several minor ones
Financial Status: Well off
Sexual Attitude: Heterosexual,
Moral Alignment: Good
Religious Alignment: Disinterested
Reputation: Well Known
Occupation: Bounty Hunter
Hobbies: Whittling, hunting, exercising, enchanting
Languages & Dialects Spoken:
English
Elvish
Talents/Skills:
Expert Marksman
Skilled Swordsman
Expert tracker
Adapt at stealth
Flaws:
Not good with people
More of a Lone Wolf then a team player
Family: Mother (Deceased.)
Father (Whereabouts unknown.)
Likes: Birds, animals in general, forests.
Dislikes: Humans, cities, drinking
Backstory: Craril's very inception was a dark matter. A group of human's raided the village his mother and father lived in. His mother was raped by one of them, though both her and his father survived the raid.
His Mother died giving birth to him, and his father disappeared somewhere. He lived with his Uncle, a nobleman. His Uncle was a fairly kind man, in spite of nephew being half human. He supported the half elf financially when it came to furthering his skills. Like many elves he possessed a natural skill for archery, and functioning out in the woods. Unlike many Elves he had a more muscular build then a slender one, as well as the ability to grow a beard. The beard was a sign of his heritage. It was very rare for an Elf to be with a human, and usually when they were they moved to human cities. So his origin was obvious to anyone who looked at him, and as such he was shunned.
At the age of forty, fairly young for a pure elf, he left the forests of his child hood. Due to his human half he matured much faster. He grew out his beard and let his hair grow long to hide his elvish nature. He originally supported himself by hunting animals, taking their meat and hides into town. Though eventually he moved onto a harder, yet much better paying, prey. People.
Age: 60
Gender:Male
Race/Ethnicity/Species: Half Elf
Height: 6'0
Weight: 90lb
Hair Colour: Chestnut
Hair Length: Long
Hairstyle: Loose
Eye Colour: Green
Birthmarks: None
Tattoos: None
Scars: Several minor ones
Financial Status: Well off
Sexual Attitude: Heterosexual,
Moral Alignment: Good
Religious Alignment: Disinterested
Reputation: Well Known
Occupation: Bounty Hunter
Hobbies: Whittling, hunting, exercising, enchanting
Languages & Dialects Spoken:
English
Elvish
Talents/Skills:
Expert Marksman
Skilled Swordsman
Expert tracker
Adapt at stealth
Flaws:
Not good with people
More of a Lone Wolf then a team player
Family: Mother (Deceased.)
Father (Whereabouts unknown.)
Likes: Birds, animals in general, forests.
Dislikes: Humans, cities, drinking
Backstory: Craril's very inception was a dark matter. A group of human's raided the village his mother and father lived in. His mother was raped by one of them, though both her and his father survived the raid.
His Mother died giving birth to him, and his father disappeared somewhere. He lived with his Uncle, a nobleman. His Uncle was a fairly kind man, in spite of nephew being half human. He supported the half elf financially when it came to furthering his skills. Like many elves he possessed a natural skill for archery, and functioning out in the woods. Unlike many Elves he had a more muscular build then a slender one, as well as the ability to grow a beard. The beard was a sign of his heritage. It was very rare for an Elf to be with a human, and usually when they were they moved to human cities. So his origin was obvious to anyone who looked at him, and as such he was shunned.
At the age of forty, fairly young for a pure elf, he left the forests of his child hood. Due to his human half he matured much faster. He grew out his beard and let his hair grow long to hide his elvish nature. He originally supported himself by hunting animals, taking their meat and hides into town. Though eventually he moved onto a harder, yet much better paying, prey. People.
The Monk
Full Name: Zenand
Age: 20
Gender:Male
Race/Ethnicity/Species: Human
Height: 6'0
Weight: 240
Hair Colour: White
Hair Length: Short
Hairstyle: Messy
Eye Colour: Brown
Birthmarks: None
Tattoos: None
Scars: None
Financial Status: Average
Sexual Attitude: Heterosexual,
Moral Alignment: Good
Religious Alignment: Worships the God of Wind
Reputation: Barely known
Occupation: Drifter
Hobbies: Napping, exploring, entering tournaments.
Languages & Dialects Spoken:
English
Talents/Skills:
Master Martial Artists
Quite good at stealth
Free running
Adept with an assortment of non-lethal weapons (Weapons that can easily be used non-lethally anyway.)
Family: Unknown
Habits: Playing with his own hair, fiddling with his head wrap, cleaning his nails, even if they already are clean
Likes: Pork, Winter, tea, rain.
Dislikes: Killing, violence for the sake of violence, corn, pepper.
Backstory:
Like many in the world, Zenand was an orphan. Left within a monastery high in the mountains to the North. His earliest memories were of him watching young initiates sparing. The North was a chaotic land, and so, unlike many other orders, his took a bit more of a hands on approach to dealing with things. Thus all initiates were given basic combat training. Some further pursued this path, while others took a less action oriented one. Zenand picked the former.
For years he dedicated himself to honing both his skills and body, building his body to it's peak. Most of his life was uneventful. But at the age of sixteen he showed promise, enough to catch the eye a member of the inner circle, as outsides are initiates called it.
His training took a quick change, from combat, to being granted an ability to master. Certain members were given the ability to use the wind to enhance their combat capabilities by their patron god. This primarily focused on bolstering one's speed, but also using heavy winds to off balance foes, and send arrows and crossbow bolts off course.
At the age of twenty, he was sent from the monastery. For ten years he would have to wander the world, to learn about it, and himself, before he could return.
Age: 20
Gender:Male
Race/Ethnicity/Species: Human
Height: 6'0
Weight: 240
Hair Colour: White
Hair Length: Short
Hairstyle: Messy
Eye Colour: Brown
Birthmarks: None
Tattoos: None
Scars: None
Financial Status: Average
Sexual Attitude: Heterosexual,
Moral Alignment: Good
Religious Alignment: Worships the God of Wind
Reputation: Barely known
Occupation: Drifter
Hobbies: Napping, exploring, entering tournaments.
Languages & Dialects Spoken:
English
Talents/Skills:
Master Martial Artists
Quite good at stealth
Free running
Adept with an assortment of non-lethal weapons (Weapons that can easily be used non-lethally anyway.)
Family: Unknown
Habits: Playing with his own hair, fiddling with his head wrap, cleaning his nails, even if they already are clean
Likes: Pork, Winter, tea, rain.
Dislikes: Killing, violence for the sake of violence, corn, pepper.
Backstory:
Like many in the world, Zenand was an orphan. Left within a monastery high in the mountains to the North. His earliest memories were of him watching young initiates sparing. The North was a chaotic land, and so, unlike many other orders, his took a bit more of a hands on approach to dealing with things. Thus all initiates were given basic combat training. Some further pursued this path, while others took a less action oriented one. Zenand picked the former.
For years he dedicated himself to honing both his skills and body, building his body to it's peak. Most of his life was uneventful. But at the age of sixteen he showed promise, enough to catch the eye a member of the inner circle, as outsides are initiates called it.
His training took a quick change, from combat, to being granted an ability to master. Certain members were given the ability to use the wind to enhance their combat capabilities by their patron god. This primarily focused on bolstering one's speed, but also using heavy winds to off balance foes, and send arrows and crossbow bolts off course.
At the age of twenty, he was sent from the monastery. For ten years he would have to wander the world, to learn about it, and himself, before he could return.
The Lone Wolf
Full Name: Ilbostiz Arnarnus
Age: 30
Gender:Male
Race/Ethnicity/Species: Human
Height: 5'10
Weight: 130
Hair Colour: Black
Hair Length: Shoulder length
Hairstyle: Unkempt
Eye Colour: Green
Typical clothing style:
Birthmarks: None
Tattoos: None
Scars: A large gash along his back, and right arm, one a bit below his left eye, and another on his right cheek
Financial Status: Average
Sexual Attitude: Heterosexual, but not all that interested
Moral Alignment: Neutral, drifts further towards good then evil though
Religious Alignment: Believes in Gods, but doesn't worship any of them
Reputation: Unknown
Occupation: Mercenary
Hobbies: Reading, hunting, camping
Languages & Dialects Spoken:
English (Fluent.)
Orcish (Basic)
Elvish (Basic)
Dwarven (Basic)
Talents/Skills:
Expert Marksman
Adept swordsman
Excellent at stealth
Easily able to adapt
Flaws:
Out of his element in direct combat
Relies on speed and agility to make up for a lack of strength and durability
Bad against multiple foes up close
While not an angry person, he has a few triggers
Family: Deceased
Habits: Stroking his beard, running his fingers through his own hair, picking his teeth with crossbow bolts, cleaning under his nails with bolts, carving into trees
Likes: Fishing, Cooking, cabins, the woods
Dislikes: Overly large cities, Dark Elves, Spiders
Backstory:
Ilbostiz was born to an average farming village along with his sister. Unknown to him however, the village was located near a large cave system which lead to a Dark Elf city. At the age of sixteen the Dark Elves began to raid the surface villages around it, a series of raids which eventually lead to his own. However, he was hunting in the woods, a few days away, when the raid occurred. Thus due to circumstance he was one of the few survivors, the only remaining survivor of his family.
So when the Divine declared a crusade against the Dark Elves, the fact he joined was not very surprising. The crusade lasted seven years, an army of warriors, Clerics, Paladins and several mages, burning down Drow cities by the dozens through sheer overwhelming force.
The Divine however, was killed during one such raid, and his son took his position. Little did anyone know that the crusade would earn him the title of the 'Mad Divine'. For the Crusade did not end with the Crippling of the Dark Elves.
Soon, many other races had been targeted. Orc, The various other elves, and eventually the Dwarves. Throughout the Crusade many atrocities were committed, ranging from rape, to burning down homes with the families within. During the Crusade he had become quite hardened. But no longer blinded by undying hatred for the Drow, he became Disillusioned with the Divine, Crusade, and even the Gods.
Thus, despite the risk of death, he deserted, on the run while also selling his skills off to those willing to pay in order to fund himself.
This remained the status quo for ten years, until an eventually rift formed within the Divine Order, and a coalition between the opposing force of the church, and various races, which ended in The Divine and many crusaders being burned at a stake for their crimes.
Luckily, he had been forgotten.
Ilbostiz attempted to return to the life of farming. But that life held far to many memories for his liking. So he changed his occupation to that of a hunter, before finally returning to the Mercenary life.
Age: 30
Gender:Male
Race/Ethnicity/Species: Human
Height: 5'10
Weight: 130
Hair Colour: Black
Hair Length: Shoulder length
Hairstyle: Unkempt
Eye Colour: Green
Typical clothing style:
Birthmarks: None
Tattoos: None
Scars: A large gash along his back, and right arm, one a bit below his left eye, and another on his right cheek
Financial Status: Average
Sexual Attitude: Heterosexual, but not all that interested
Moral Alignment: Neutral, drifts further towards good then evil though
Religious Alignment: Believes in Gods, but doesn't worship any of them
Reputation: Unknown
Occupation: Mercenary
Hobbies: Reading, hunting, camping
Languages & Dialects Spoken:
English (Fluent.)
Orcish (Basic)
Elvish (Basic)
Dwarven (Basic)
Talents/Skills:
Expert Marksman
Adept swordsman
Excellent at stealth
Easily able to adapt
Flaws:
Out of his element in direct combat
Relies on speed and agility to make up for a lack of strength and durability
Bad against multiple foes up close
While not an angry person, he has a few triggers
Family: Deceased
Habits: Stroking his beard, running his fingers through his own hair, picking his teeth with crossbow bolts, cleaning under his nails with bolts, carving into trees
Likes: Fishing, Cooking, cabins, the woods
Dislikes: Overly large cities, Dark Elves, Spiders
Backstory:
Ilbostiz was born to an average farming village along with his sister. Unknown to him however, the village was located near a large cave system which lead to a Dark Elf city. At the age of sixteen the Dark Elves began to raid the surface villages around it, a series of raids which eventually lead to his own. However, he was hunting in the woods, a few days away, when the raid occurred. Thus due to circumstance he was one of the few survivors, the only remaining survivor of his family.
So when the Divine declared a crusade against the Dark Elves, the fact he joined was not very surprising. The crusade lasted seven years, an army of warriors, Clerics, Paladins and several mages, burning down Drow cities by the dozens through sheer overwhelming force.
The Divine however, was killed during one such raid, and his son took his position. Little did anyone know that the crusade would earn him the title of the 'Mad Divine'. For the Crusade did not end with the Crippling of the Dark Elves.
Soon, many other races had been targeted. Orc, The various other elves, and eventually the Dwarves. Throughout the Crusade many atrocities were committed, ranging from rape, to burning down homes with the families within. During the Crusade he had become quite hardened. But no longer blinded by undying hatred for the Drow, he became Disillusioned with the Divine, Crusade, and even the Gods.
Thus, despite the risk of death, he deserted, on the run while also selling his skills off to those willing to pay in order to fund himself.
This remained the status quo for ten years, until an eventually rift formed within the Divine Order, and a coalition between the opposing force of the church, and various races, which ended in The Divine and many crusaders being burned at a stake for their crimes.
Luckily, he had been forgotten.
Ilbostiz attempted to return to the life of farming. But that life held far to many memories for his liking. So he changed his occupation to that of a hunter, before finally returning to the Mercenary life.
Hollowborn.
Name: Edwin
Age: 28
Gender: Male
Race/Ethnicity/Species: Human
Height: 5'8
Weight: 100
Hair Colour: White
Hair Length: Long
Hairstyle: Messy
Eye Colour: Grey
Birthmarks: None
Tattoos: None
Scars: Uhh...
Financial Status: Poor
Sexual Attitude: Not interested
Moral Alignment: Neutral
Religious Alignment: None
Reputation: Unknown
Criminal Status: Unknown
Highest Education Level Achieved: N/A
Occupation: None
Hobbies: None
Languages & Dialects Spoken: English
Talents/Skills: Hunting, Survival, leather working
Family: N/A
Significant Other(s): None
Hollowborn are those born without souls. Most go feral, and are often put down before the age of five. Yet there are rare occasions of them retaining their sanity. They give of an aura that is off putting to most, causing them to live solitary lives. Due to lacking a soul, they are unable to use magic connected to gods, and can only utilize necromancy and wild magic. Healing magic has no effect on a hollowborn. Due to lacking a soul their bodies decay, causing them to bare an almost identical resemblance to the undead.
Age: 28
Gender: Male
Race/Ethnicity/Species: Human
Height: 5'8
Weight: 100
Hair Colour: White
Hair Length: Long
Hairstyle: Messy
Eye Colour: Grey
Birthmarks: None
Tattoos: None
Scars: Uhh...
Financial Status: Poor
Sexual Attitude: Not interested
Moral Alignment: Neutral
Religious Alignment: None
Reputation: Unknown
Criminal Status: Unknown
Highest Education Level Achieved: N/A
Occupation: None
Hobbies: None
Languages & Dialects Spoken: English
Talents/Skills: Hunting, Survival, leather working
Family: N/A
Significant Other(s): None
Hollowborn are those born without souls. Most go feral, and are often put down before the age of five. Yet there are rare occasions of them retaining their sanity. They give of an aura that is off putting to most, causing them to live solitary lives. Due to lacking a soul, they are unable to use magic connected to gods, and can only utilize necromancy and wild magic. Healing magic has no effect on a hollowborn. Due to lacking a soul their bodies decay, causing them to bare an almost identical resemblance to the undead.