Post by maeng on Jul 31, 2015 6:16:20 GMT
Name:Maeng
Age:26
Nationality:Rhodockian
Hair:Blond
Eyes:Blue
Facial Markings:None
Skin Color:White
Height:
6'0"
Weight:
195
Build:
Athletic
Body Markings:
Large scar across the back.
Interests:
Enjoys the sound of his pay as he rides, hunting trips, and dueling for sport.
Dislikes:
Thieves, and pricks. Also the Vaegirs...
Strengths:
Good at communication and conflict resolution. Well versed in starting the conflict too...
Weaknesses:
Unlucky, good at getting in bad situations. Drinking plays into decision making.
Skills:
Excellent at tracking and could drink any of you under the table.
Fears:
Witchcraft (Wizardry's ok) and catching something from the brothels.
Profession:
Mercenary
Background/History:
Growing up on his father's farm he'd become naturally strong, his father teaching him his knowledge of tracking and hunting, and practicing swordplay with heavy iron farm equipment. Being a young fit man, dreams of fame and glory did not escape him and he left his home in the plains at his coming of age to find a better life (even try and make a name for himself somewhere). Though slowly but surely he realized that there isn't as much fantastical adventure to be had has he once thought he became a heavy drinker to numb the dread of being a hired hand. Maeng wandered the lands of Caldera occasionally grouping up with those he found to be like-minded and only staying in one place for so long. He never stuck with someone for too long either as trust had become an issue to him, being constantly betrayed at his wits end trying to just earn a living for himself.
Throughout his odd jobs, doing guard work for various establishments (some more legitimate then others) he became fairly adept at using a sword and decided to use those skills to earn coin by hustling people by feigning his real strength. Earned the nickname fool at one point when in a duel he'd believed to have bested his opponent turned from the man to the crowd to taunt him. The man he was facing cut him down while his back was turned towards him. It's not necessarily a widely known name, but he keeps it as a powerful reminder to never believe you're above someone, in a very broad sense. This was a turning point in his hunt for "fame and fortune," he'd almost gotten killed and he realized money alone got him nowhere. His wound has long since healed, but is still fresh in his mind as a reminder, This almost traumatic event caused him to turn his focus onto bettering his own self through intense self-training and helping others around him how he could. Tired of being around the belligerent array of people that he'd grown accustomed to being a merc and a hustler he went with a traveling caravan advertizing the need for a guard, carrying spices and herbs from distant places. The pay wasn't anything to get worked up about, but the company was good and it helped him end up were he is today.
He's become good friends with the men that took him into their group and after the caravan reached it's destination him and a couple of the others actually stared their own small guild dedicated to providing a capable Mercenary service to those who required it. In recent years Maeng has remained with the same group in these lands working as mercenaries for hire and hunting in the off time. Doesn't drink to drown his sorrows any longer but does to show off and have a good time at the end of a hard day with his comrades.
Equipment: Wears medium set armor for mobility but carries a fascinatingly large greatsword.
Age:26
Nationality:Rhodockian
Hair:Blond
Eyes:Blue
Facial Markings:None
Skin Color:White
Height:
6'0"
Weight:
195
Build:
Athletic
Body Markings:
Large scar across the back.
Interests:
Enjoys the sound of his pay as he rides, hunting trips, and dueling for sport.
Dislikes:
Thieves, and pricks. Also the Vaegirs...
Strengths:
Good at communication and conflict resolution. Well versed in starting the conflict too...
Weaknesses:
Unlucky, good at getting in bad situations. Drinking plays into decision making.
Skills:
Excellent at tracking and could drink any of you under the table.
Fears:
Witchcraft (Wizardry's ok) and catching something from the brothels.
Profession:
Mercenary
Background/History:
Growing up on his father's farm he'd become naturally strong, his father teaching him his knowledge of tracking and hunting, and practicing swordplay with heavy iron farm equipment. Being a young fit man, dreams of fame and glory did not escape him and he left his home in the plains at his coming of age to find a better life (even try and make a name for himself somewhere). Though slowly but surely he realized that there isn't as much fantastical adventure to be had has he once thought he became a heavy drinker to numb the dread of being a hired hand. Maeng wandered the lands of Caldera occasionally grouping up with those he found to be like-minded and only staying in one place for so long. He never stuck with someone for too long either as trust had become an issue to him, being constantly betrayed at his wits end trying to just earn a living for himself.
Throughout his odd jobs, doing guard work for various establishments (some more legitimate then others) he became fairly adept at using a sword and decided to use those skills to earn coin by hustling people by feigning his real strength. Earned the nickname fool at one point when in a duel he'd believed to have bested his opponent turned from the man to the crowd to taunt him. The man he was facing cut him down while his back was turned towards him. It's not necessarily a widely known name, but he keeps it as a powerful reminder to never believe you're above someone, in a very broad sense. This was a turning point in his hunt for "fame and fortune," he'd almost gotten killed and he realized money alone got him nowhere. His wound has long since healed, but is still fresh in his mind as a reminder, This almost traumatic event caused him to turn his focus onto bettering his own self through intense self-training and helping others around him how he could. Tired of being around the belligerent array of people that he'd grown accustomed to being a merc and a hustler he went with a traveling caravan advertizing the need for a guard, carrying spices and herbs from distant places. The pay wasn't anything to get worked up about, but the company was good and it helped him end up were he is today.
He's become good friends with the men that took him into their group and after the caravan reached it's destination him and a couple of the others actually stared their own small guild dedicated to providing a capable Mercenary service to those who required it. In recent years Maeng has remained with the same group in these lands working as mercenaries for hire and hunting in the off time. Doesn't drink to drown his sorrows any longer but does to show off and have a good time at the end of a hard day with his comrades.
Equipment: Wears medium set armor for mobility but carries a fascinatingly large greatsword.