Zerachiel Sinclair
Dec 16, 2010 7:11:44 GMT -6
Post by Zerachiel on Dec 16, 2010 7:11:44 GMT -6
Name: Zerachiel Sinclair (Alias: Roland Hawkthorn)
Class: Assassin
Hair Color: Brown
Eye Color: Blue
Age: 32 -> 33
Appearance: Broad shoulders, strong jaw and with a perpetual smug grin. He stands about average in height, not standing out in either tallness nor shortness. In a crowd, his head remains about level with all the others, which is both a blessing and a curse. A strong body, but more akin to that of a slightly more buff farmer or runner then that of a career fighter, despite being such, reflecting on his personal style of fighting. A certain level of care has been obviously taken in his appearance, his hair is done in a style that looks scruffy but artificially so.
He takes pride in his appearance, though you would never hear such from him.
However after a very unfortunate incident involving a large lightning breathing dragon, he had lost a very important part of him. Namely his right arm, which ends at the elbow with a sharp end as if it was sliced off by a guillotine. Luckily for him, he's ambidextrous, but it does prove to be a hassle. He usually wears his clothing in a way that it's not noticeable at a glance, and you'd have to look for it to see it. Still it remains a very painful and obvious blemish on a man who is vain.
Update: After the works of a certain Necromancer named Nacht, Zerachiel regained his arm once more. It may have been a short time, but the loss is still in his mind. Sometimes doing things in such ways as if he forgot it's back. As a result he's stopped wearing his 'one armed man' clothing and dipped his toes back in to the world of espionage.
Clothes: He wears a dark red overcoat with golden trimmings atop a silver white undershirt, also with small golden trimmings. The combination together gives him a very rich appearance, whether or not that may be true. Under that is a pair of fancyish dark red dress pants that makes it look like he enters the battlefield in dress clothes. A feat that is only topped off with white shoes dressing his feet.
Outside of that he has some more common clothing he can wear if the situation calls for it. He doesn't enjoy it though.
Of course he hung up that outfit when he lost his arm, it was fanciful but it drew too much attention. Now he wears a black cloak that hangs over his shoulders and drapes his body with it's billow form. It hides the truth of his arm until he bursts into action, and underneath he continues the theme of dark and black. Wearing a very well crafted black leather armor underneath with a leather gauntlet on his still functioning arm. Black underclothes and a pair of black boots. It's a dark color, but no the pitch black that stands out when you look at it. Very useful for sticking to the shadows, which is how he moves these days.
Born in: Etruria
Story: Born in Etruria, land of the Saint. His parents were a pair of devout worshipers of Elmine. They saw to it that he was given a full formal religious filled education that crammed traditional Etrurian values down his throat every day.
None of it stuck.
It might of been over saturation of everything that is supposed to be considered 'holy' or the guilt that the church wielded that was mightier then even the greatest broadsword. Or it could of been just because he was never meant for such things. Regardless of why, the truth is simply that the education didn't stick. He got other things out of that life, traditional mind control loyalty was not one of them.
So, throughout most of his life, he sought after other things. He trained his sword arm, became skilled in hitting things, and acquired a taste for gold. His slightly vain lifestyle was at odd from the majority of people he found his self living with. Finally, after the giant shake up of Etrurian government, he knew that now was his time to act. The way he was living before would of never lasted in this new regime, it was time for something drastic to happen. So that's why he wanders today, as a freelance mercenary who loves gold.
That was, of course, only the first part of the story. The one he told people, because something drastic did happen. He was a man of no small skill, talented in the arts of bribery, deceit, spying, blackmail, and other less than noble pursuits. You see, to him being a mercenary was less about fighting and more about acting like a thief. He believed that there was far more to be proud of by solving issues creatively through guile then bullying through with brute force. There were mercenaries for when you wanted hired muscle, he was a mercenary you hired when you wanted a job done.
Such a person in a land like Etruria was sure to be noticed. He thrived in the seedy underbelly that the wholesome and religious capital of the world had in spades. Attracting the attention of none other than Kraft himself. At first, his people were tasked to crush Zera like a bug. Snuff him out and flay him as an 'example' to those who disobeyed Elmine. He was the perfect example, the entire underworld knew his name and his skills, and if Zerachiel could be caught and killed, what chance did they have? One could say fate moves in mysterious ways, but he never believed in that destiny hogwash and took matter into his own hands. The ones who were tasked with hunting him down, suddenly lost their nerve. Was it bribery? Blackmail? Threats? Or maybe just a little bit of fear? He would never say, but it worked like a charm. These were men who were blindly zealous to Kraft, to them his word was law, and somehow Zera managed to subvert them all the same.
This interested Kraft, and Zerachiel found himself working for the big man. He was like an unofficial hand, set to scour Elibe and conduct Kraft's business where he could not. He's done many things, including infiltrating Rayl's entourage and keeping track on Lycia's political efforts. Subverting them and turning them to mush, ensuring that their attempts to acquire Bern's aide in fighting Etruria went ignored while the country descended into a chaotic frenzy following the escape of Aidan Lowell. Then he took a ship back to Etruria, where he intercepted important documents and delivered them his self to Kraft.
He was the one tasked to assassinate Marcus, the dragon who created a cult and lead a scourge across one of Kraft's cities. He was successful in his task, but lost an arm in the process. Ever still he continues his work across Elibe, loyal to no man but himself.
Update: Hired by Saturos to completely a mission to create a 'bogeyman' for Bern to fight against, he bolstered the efforts of the Bandit Rebellion in Sacae. Spreading rumors and personally lending a hand to the efforts, he helped the movement grow as he chose it to be his bogeyman. Nacht gave him a personal quest, to kill Kenshin and steal Richter's hair and in payment he gave him back his arm. He failed his mission on the account of monsters everywhere when Hargus went fricken nuts. Instead of sticking around he opted to save himself, and fled the city. At the least they were a force to be feared. Far more then he ever imagined.
Class: Assassin
Hair Color: Brown
Eye Color: Blue
Age: 32 -> 33
Appearance: Broad shoulders, strong jaw and with a perpetual smug grin. He stands about average in height, not standing out in either tallness nor shortness. In a crowd, his head remains about level with all the others, which is both a blessing and a curse. A strong body, but more akin to that of a slightly more buff farmer or runner then that of a career fighter, despite being such, reflecting on his personal style of fighting. A certain level of care has been obviously taken in his appearance, his hair is done in a style that looks scruffy but artificially so.
He takes pride in his appearance, though you would never hear such from him.
However after a very unfortunate incident involving a large lightning breathing dragon, he had lost a very important part of him. Namely his right arm, which ends at the elbow with a sharp end as if it was sliced off by a guillotine. Luckily for him, he's ambidextrous, but it does prove to be a hassle. He usually wears his clothing in a way that it's not noticeable at a glance, and you'd have to look for it to see it. Still it remains a very painful and obvious blemish on a man who is vain.
Update: After the works of a certain Necromancer named Nacht, Zerachiel regained his arm once more. It may have been a short time, but the loss is still in his mind. Sometimes doing things in such ways as if he forgot it's back. As a result he's stopped wearing his 'one armed man' clothing and dipped his toes back in to the world of espionage.
Clothes: He wears a dark red overcoat with golden trimmings atop a silver white undershirt, also with small golden trimmings. The combination together gives him a very rich appearance, whether or not that may be true. Under that is a pair of fancyish dark red dress pants that makes it look like he enters the battlefield in dress clothes. A feat that is only topped off with white shoes dressing his feet.
Outside of that he has some more common clothing he can wear if the situation calls for it. He doesn't enjoy it though.
Of course he hung up that outfit when he lost his arm, it was fanciful but it drew too much attention. Now he wears a black cloak that hangs over his shoulders and drapes his body with it's billow form. It hides the truth of his arm until he bursts into action, and underneath he continues the theme of dark and black. Wearing a very well crafted black leather armor underneath with a leather gauntlet on his still functioning arm. Black underclothes and a pair of black boots. It's a dark color, but no the pitch black that stands out when you look at it. Very useful for sticking to the shadows, which is how he moves these days.
Born in: Etruria
Story: Born in Etruria, land of the Saint. His parents were a pair of devout worshipers of Elmine. They saw to it that he was given a full formal religious filled education that crammed traditional Etrurian values down his throat every day.
None of it stuck.
It might of been over saturation of everything that is supposed to be considered 'holy' or the guilt that the church wielded that was mightier then even the greatest broadsword. Or it could of been just because he was never meant for such things. Regardless of why, the truth is simply that the education didn't stick. He got other things out of that life, traditional mind control loyalty was not one of them.
So, throughout most of his life, he sought after other things. He trained his sword arm, became skilled in hitting things, and acquired a taste for gold. His slightly vain lifestyle was at odd from the majority of people he found his self living with. Finally, after the giant shake up of Etrurian government, he knew that now was his time to act. The way he was living before would of never lasted in this new regime, it was time for something drastic to happen. So that's why he wanders today, as a freelance mercenary who loves gold.
That was, of course, only the first part of the story. The one he told people, because something drastic did happen. He was a man of no small skill, talented in the arts of bribery, deceit, spying, blackmail, and other less than noble pursuits. You see, to him being a mercenary was less about fighting and more about acting like a thief. He believed that there was far more to be proud of by solving issues creatively through guile then bullying through with brute force. There were mercenaries for when you wanted hired muscle, he was a mercenary you hired when you wanted a job done.
Such a person in a land like Etruria was sure to be noticed. He thrived in the seedy underbelly that the wholesome and religious capital of the world had in spades. Attracting the attention of none other than Kraft himself. At first, his people were tasked to crush Zera like a bug. Snuff him out and flay him as an 'example' to those who disobeyed Elmine. He was the perfect example, the entire underworld knew his name and his skills, and if Zerachiel could be caught and killed, what chance did they have? One could say fate moves in mysterious ways, but he never believed in that destiny hogwash and took matter into his own hands. The ones who were tasked with hunting him down, suddenly lost their nerve. Was it bribery? Blackmail? Threats? Or maybe just a little bit of fear? He would never say, but it worked like a charm. These were men who were blindly zealous to Kraft, to them his word was law, and somehow Zera managed to subvert them all the same.
This interested Kraft, and Zerachiel found himself working for the big man. He was like an unofficial hand, set to scour Elibe and conduct Kraft's business where he could not. He's done many things, including infiltrating Rayl's entourage and keeping track on Lycia's political efforts. Subverting them and turning them to mush, ensuring that their attempts to acquire Bern's aide in fighting Etruria went ignored while the country descended into a chaotic frenzy following the escape of Aidan Lowell. Then he took a ship back to Etruria, where he intercepted important documents and delivered them his self to Kraft.
He was the one tasked to assassinate Marcus, the dragon who created a cult and lead a scourge across one of Kraft's cities. He was successful in his task, but lost an arm in the process. Ever still he continues his work across Elibe, loyal to no man but himself.
Update: Hired by Saturos to completely a mission to create a 'bogeyman' for Bern to fight against, he bolstered the efforts of the Bandit Rebellion in Sacae. Spreading rumors and personally lending a hand to the efforts, he helped the movement grow as he chose it to be his bogeyman. Nacht gave him a personal quest, to kill Kenshin and steal Richter's hair and in payment he gave him back his arm. He failed his mission on the account of monsters everywhere when Hargus went fricken nuts. Instead of sticking around he opted to save himself, and fled the city. At the least they were a force to be feared. Far more then he ever imagined.
