Post by rex on Mar 9, 2016 4:42:18 GMT
Profile
Name: Kris Valentine
Age: 37
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Height: 5', 11"
Weight: 205
Rank: citizen
Basic Appearance:
His hair once black, now more of a salt and pepper, is long and mostly unkempt. The mess hand down just above his shoulders and often houses dirt, grime, and at times dried vomit. His eyes are a light brown, and his skin is tan, tough, and leathery. His face is covered by a wild and untrained beard. For attire, see gear.
Combat Credentials
Combat Style: Kris favors a long sword, preferring to use it alone. If pressed in a fight he will use a dagger in his offhand for defensive purposes.
He is a skilled fighter, but only measures his skill by the fact that he is not yet dead.
Abilities: None, in fact physically he is aging and slowing.
Weapon(s):
He carries a long sword with fine jewels decorating the cross guard and a parrying dagger.
Gear: Kris wears a tarnished bronze breastplate above a rusting chain shirt. On his arms he wears a set of bracers which were also crafted of bronze. He wears lighter, faded leather armor upon his legs, and when expecting travel wears a tattered, dark red cloak upon his back with a hood to protect him from Den's fire.
Background
Kris spent his young adult years as a mercenary of some renown. He fought well, lived well, loved often. This lifestyle lead tithe birth of a son when Kris reached the age of 20. Always one to believe himself noble, Kris took the boy's mother as a wife but continued his work as a soldier for hire to provide for his family and his other interests.
Being of renown had it's advantages. There was a time he was feared for his skill, when his name would reach towns and cities before he himself would. Many knew of the famed Valentine. The name carried intimidation. Most knew what Kris was up to. That was not always a good thing.
Once while away from home some thieves decided to make any valuables within the Valentine house their own. The boy and his mother ended up nothing more than in the way. When Kris returned, the sight he bore was something he was not accustomed to seeing. Clean kills, they had been quick, merciful, but the feelings that accompanied the sight was something Kris had never dealt with before.
The sadness and rage consumed him for a time, until the rage died away leaving only grief and depression. He turned to the bottle and left his home in hopes he could simply outrun the pain. Twelve years have passed. Kris still runs, though now he must stop for rest more frequently. His name has been mostly forgotten. The once renown soldier of fortune, nothing more than an old man staring into his glass at a local bar. He finds himself now in Etirath, still running from his greatest enemy, his regret.
Relations:
Name: Kris Valentine
Age: 37
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Height: 5', 11"
Weight: 205
Rank: citizen
Basic Appearance:
His hair once black, now more of a salt and pepper, is long and mostly unkempt. The mess hand down just above his shoulders and often houses dirt, grime, and at times dried vomit. His eyes are a light brown, and his skin is tan, tough, and leathery. His face is covered by a wild and untrained beard. For attire, see gear.
Combat Credentials
Combat Style: Kris favors a long sword, preferring to use it alone. If pressed in a fight he will use a dagger in his offhand for defensive purposes.
He is a skilled fighter, but only measures his skill by the fact that he is not yet dead.
Abilities: None, in fact physically he is aging and slowing.
Weapon(s):
He carries a long sword with fine jewels decorating the cross guard and a parrying dagger.
Gear: Kris wears a tarnished bronze breastplate above a rusting chain shirt. On his arms he wears a set of bracers which were also crafted of bronze. He wears lighter, faded leather armor upon his legs, and when expecting travel wears a tattered, dark red cloak upon his back with a hood to protect him from Den's fire.
Background
Kris spent his young adult years as a mercenary of some renown. He fought well, lived well, loved often. This lifestyle lead tithe birth of a son when Kris reached the age of 20. Always one to believe himself noble, Kris took the boy's mother as a wife but continued his work as a soldier for hire to provide for his family and his other interests.
Being of renown had it's advantages. There was a time he was feared for his skill, when his name would reach towns and cities before he himself would. Many knew of the famed Valentine. The name carried intimidation. Most knew what Kris was up to. That was not always a good thing.
Once while away from home some thieves decided to make any valuables within the Valentine house their own. The boy and his mother ended up nothing more than in the way. When Kris returned, the sight he bore was something he was not accustomed to seeing. Clean kills, they had been quick, merciful, but the feelings that accompanied the sight was something Kris had never dealt with before.
The sadness and rage consumed him for a time, until the rage died away leaving only grief and depression. He turned to the bottle and left his home in hopes he could simply outrun the pain. Twelve years have passed. Kris still runs, though now he must stop for rest more frequently. His name has been mostly forgotten. The once renown soldier of fortune, nothing more than an old man staring into his glass at a local bar. He finds himself now in Etirath, still running from his greatest enemy, his regret.
Relations: