11-25-2014, 06:31 PM
Name: Aster
Age: Appears in his early twenties.
Race: Light Elf
Description: Big, but not too buff and small, but not too slender. Aster stands at a decent height of six-foot-two with an almost natural build given to his graceful yet deadly race. His eyes are a slight burning violet while his hair is shaven on the sides, the top a mixture of Orange and Black like Autumn, tied back into tribal style Mohawk. His skin is of a bronze tone. His magic attunement to nature is nature itself. He can create trees to causing himself to shift into a flying ferret when some features his nimble body cannot offer him are needed.
History: Astrid has resided in solitude on the Isles like most light elves. Even with their isolation, they are trained in learning how to use nature to their will. Aster has been trained to be a scout, offering him the full comfort of nature as he liked while also learning to assassinate anything from a far distance. This ranges in his bow to his knives. If anyone needs him find and track a target, he's the elf to go to. Lastly is his nonchalant attitude. He has a way of saying things that can get under people's skin just as they can be used to
Personality: Fitting to an elf, Aster finds some of the races like Orcs and even their fark counterparts as utter filth. Giants are but guardians to nature. Humans have the grace to be a bit of both and Phoekins are about as close to their race as it comes. Everything else may more than likely be beneath him (The Riptors and Werewolves). He is not quick to anger, though he can be quite brutal when on the thrill of a hunt. He is also well reserved. While many favor crowds, he favors the distance, allowing him to see the full sights of everything.
Likes: Nature, hunting, wine, music. He could even learn to like races he dislike if the conditions are properly met.
Dislikes: The upsetting of Nature, meat, anything not affiliated with the Imperial Army. As he loves the Earth, anything that causes it to decay without natural means such as the dark legion will earn them a special place on his hit list.
He sat in the shadows, drinking a dark berry wine from the pint he was offered. His hood to his black cloak bid away most features, but his purple eyes glanced through the tavern, his sight literally slicing through almost everyone like a hot knife through butter as he saw his intended targets. His pointed ears twitched as he heard their conversations from afar, but he lifted not a word nor movement from his body as not to give away his position. He was not alone however.
"Do you think they can be trusted?" The words were not rang out through normal tones of the voice. Instead, they came in the form of a flute of those that were playing in the festive bar. The figure in the shadows among the three he sat with picked up his cup and set it back down lightly. That merely meant he was watching the gathering figures closely. Anyone that speaks of certain words, regardless of their race were to be observed closely. These were troubling times in the world after all. So far there were two humans, a werewolf and a
((I hope this is alright.))
Age: Appears in his early twenties.
Race: Light Elf
Description: Big, but not too buff and small, but not too slender. Aster stands at a decent height of six-foot-two with an almost natural build given to his graceful yet deadly race. His eyes are a slight burning violet while his hair is shaven on the sides, the top a mixture of Orange and Black like Autumn, tied back into tribal style Mohawk. His skin is of a bronze tone. His magic attunement to nature is nature itself. He can create trees to causing himself to shift into a flying ferret when some features his nimble body cannot offer him are needed.
History: Astrid has resided in solitude on the Isles like most light elves. Even with their isolation, they are trained in learning how to use nature to their will. Aster has been trained to be a scout, offering him the full comfort of nature as he liked while also learning to assassinate anything from a far distance. This ranges in his bow to his knives. If anyone needs him find and track a target, he's the elf to go to. Lastly is his nonchalant attitude. He has a way of saying things that can get under people's skin just as they can be used to
Personality: Fitting to an elf, Aster finds some of the races like Orcs and even their fark counterparts as utter filth. Giants are but guardians to nature. Humans have the grace to be a bit of both and Phoekins are about as close to their race as it comes. Everything else may more than likely be beneath him (The Riptors and Werewolves). He is not quick to anger, though he can be quite brutal when on the thrill of a hunt. He is also well reserved. While many favor crowds, he favors the distance, allowing him to see the full sights of everything.
Likes: Nature, hunting, wine, music. He could even learn to like races he dislike if the conditions are properly met.
Dislikes: The upsetting of Nature, meat, anything not affiliated with the Imperial Army. As he loves the Earth, anything that causes it to decay without natural means such as the dark legion will earn them a special place on his hit list.
He sat in the shadows, drinking a dark berry wine from the pint he was offered. His hood to his black cloak bid away most features, but his purple eyes glanced through the tavern, his sight literally slicing through almost everyone like a hot knife through butter as he saw his intended targets. His pointed ears twitched as he heard their conversations from afar, but he lifted not a word nor movement from his body as not to give away his position. He was not alone however.
"Do you think they can be trusted?" The words were not rang out through normal tones of the voice. Instead, they came in the form of a flute of those that were playing in the festive bar. The figure in the shadows among the three he sat with picked up his cup and set it back down lightly. That merely meant he was watching the gathering figures closely. Anyone that speaks of certain words, regardless of their race were to be observed closely. These were troubling times in the world after all. So far there were two humans, a werewolf and a
((I hope this is alright.))