AKFHPhantom
Really Really Experienced
- Joined
- Nov 24, 2011
- Posts
- 437
Watcher. ((OPEN TO ONE FEMALE))
Name: "Sleath"
Proffession: Rouge, Thief.
Race: Human, Northerner.
Skills: Highly skilled with Bows, Crossbows, anything ranged. Daggers and shoet swords, Highly skilled hunter and tracker. Highly athletic, can climb well. And due to being a northerner, He is highly resistant to the cold and inclement weather.
Age: 26
Hieght: 6'1"
Weight: 156lbs
Hair: Dark Brown.
Eye Color: Gray/Blue.
Skin Color: Caucasian, Pale due to moving in dense forest regularly
Sleath sat atop a tattered bed with a small dark cloak wrapped around him, inside of a small fishing shack that was used a long time ago, back when the river was rich with fresh fish, there was several boards missing, letting rays of moonlight come in from the walls, and the rest of the boards where either rotting, or had small marks across them, the true tell sign of the age of the shack itself.
In his right hand he held his bow, made of a rich dark wood, that had served him well in many fights, and many hunting trips. He ran his left hand over the quiver made of fine leather, that he had hunted a deer for, the rim lined in iron, inside was stocked around thirty two arrows made of the same wood his bow was made of, with bronze and iron tips.
He moved his hand, and quickly drew back the string, made of tightly wound horse hair, and coated in beeswax, to keep the moisture from the string itself, and released, firing an imaginary arrow at an imaginary enemy.
He sighed. Boredom was setting in, quicker that the sleep that he so very needed. He turned his head to the metal grate that two fresh slabs of venison sat on, cooking slowly, the smell filling the shack.
The only problem with this situation, he thought was that he had twice the amount of meat to eat, but no one to share it with. Throughout his life, he was never able to find a companion, as he was regularly travelling.
After eating one of the slabs of meat, he lightly salted the other, and wrapped it in some thin paper, to keep it preserved, and tucked it into his small pack, next to some furs that he would trade for arrows, or rations.
A few minutes after that, He sighed, and leaned his head back, and looked up through the hole in the ceiling, and stared at the stars, then the moon, a few minutes after that, he began to doze off, until he finally fell asleep inside the shack.
Name: "Sleath"
Proffession: Rouge, Thief.
Race: Human, Northerner.
Skills: Highly skilled with Bows, Crossbows, anything ranged. Daggers and shoet swords, Highly skilled hunter and tracker. Highly athletic, can climb well. And due to being a northerner, He is highly resistant to the cold and inclement weather.
Age: 26
Hieght: 6'1"
Weight: 156lbs
Hair: Dark Brown.
Eye Color: Gray/Blue.
Skin Color: Caucasian, Pale due to moving in dense forest regularly
Sleath sat atop a tattered bed with a small dark cloak wrapped around him, inside of a small fishing shack that was used a long time ago, back when the river was rich with fresh fish, there was several boards missing, letting rays of moonlight come in from the walls, and the rest of the boards where either rotting, or had small marks across them, the true tell sign of the age of the shack itself.
In his right hand he held his bow, made of a rich dark wood, that had served him well in many fights, and many hunting trips. He ran his left hand over the quiver made of fine leather, that he had hunted a deer for, the rim lined in iron, inside was stocked around thirty two arrows made of the same wood his bow was made of, with bronze and iron tips.
He moved his hand, and quickly drew back the string, made of tightly wound horse hair, and coated in beeswax, to keep the moisture from the string itself, and released, firing an imaginary arrow at an imaginary enemy.
He sighed. Boredom was setting in, quicker that the sleep that he so very needed. He turned his head to the metal grate that two fresh slabs of venison sat on, cooking slowly, the smell filling the shack.
The only problem with this situation, he thought was that he had twice the amount of meat to eat, but no one to share it with. Throughout his life, he was never able to find a companion, as he was regularly travelling.
After eating one of the slabs of meat, he lightly salted the other, and wrapped it in some thin paper, to keep it preserved, and tucked it into his small pack, next to some furs that he would trade for arrows, or rations.
A few minutes after that, He sighed, and leaned his head back, and looked up through the hole in the ceiling, and stared at the stars, then the moon, a few minutes after that, he began to doze off, until he finally fell asleep inside the shack.
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