Miles Huron
May 22, 2013 21:28:49 GMT -6
Post by Deleted on May 22, 2013 21:28:49 GMT -6
Name: Miles Huron
Class: Archer
Hair Color: Brown
Eye Color: Brown
Age: 25
Appearance: Miles Huron isn’t anything special. He stands at 5’9 with an average build, a bit on the thinner side. He looks a bit tired most of the time, worn and weary. He is pale skinned and his average brown hair makes it so he wouldn’t stand out in a crowd at all. His most notable feature would have to be his cold and calculating wayward stare.
Clothes: Miles often wears an inculcated green traveling cloak over his clothes. Underneath his cloak is a brown coat with a high collar and cyan trim. The coat hangs just above his knees which are covered by a worn pair of beige pants. The rest of his outfit is just as plain. Brown leather boots, brown leather gloves and a brown leather quiver
Born in: Illia
Story: Miles didn’t stand out. And that was just the way he liked it. He was born in Illia to a couple of mercenaries, and was their youngest of three children, all boys. He may as well have been a Sacaen, due to how much he travelled. You see, Miles had been born into a family of mercenaries who were a part of a larger traveling mercenary band. His relationship with his family was nothing out of the ordinary. He loved his mother, he respected his father, and he and his brothers would occasionally beat the tar out of each other. That’s just the way it was in ‘The Company’.
When he was old enough to begin training in combat, his brothers had already been swinging around swords like a couple of maniacs for a good couple of years. Many days in his young life he had spent sitting on some hill in a foreign land watching his brother’s bash away at each other with wooden training swords as they sparred. Though Miles quickly came to the conclusion that close quarters combat was not his forte, and sought out an archer in the company to teach him how to correctly handle a bow. The Company wasn’t exceptionally large, but it was sizeable enough so that he could find a teacher with ease. And that he did. While his brothers became more and more adept in the ways of the blade, Miles honed his skill with a bow and arrow. Before long he would join the other archers on hunting trips, setting out into many a forest to hunt its game. Though he certainly wasn’t the best archer in the group, he managed to shoot down a deer or a wild boar every now and again.
As time went on he would move on from hunting purely forest game, and participate in the tasks that their company was hired to do. Whether they had been hired to guard some nobleman, or to attack some group, Miles would always be a short distance from the thick of the battle, quietly notching arrow after arrow, and shooting down enemies from a distance with moderate accuracy and a cold, detachment with zero hesitation. Having been surrounded by combat his entire life, he was not shocked when a comrade did not return from battle, yet he and his remaining comrades mourned them nevertheless.
Time continued to slip on by as Miles broke into manhood. His mother passed away from an illness in Arphen, the place that he was born. To this he wept and grieved with his brothers for a time. However they had been taught all of their lives to never dwell on the past. And when The Company had found their next destination, the brothers dried their eyes, buried their mother, and set out for Etruria with the rest of The Company.
The Company had been hired once again to protect an Ephrurian noble from an opposing force, for a quite impressive sum of money. As always, The Company split off into squads once they had rendezvous with the people who had hired them. Miles went off to seek hire ground with a few other archers, while his brothers remained. However, unbenounced to them there were some dirty dealings going on just beneath the surface. Though The Company had been offered a handsome sum of money to protect this nobleman, the opposing faction had arranged with The Company’s leader, that if they turned on the nobleman and saw to it that he was slain, they would pay The Company double.
Without consulting the rest of The Company, the mercenary’s leader beheaded the nobleman they had been sent to guard. Though the majority of the members protested this dishonourable act at first, their mouths were shut after they received their pay from the opposing faction. Little did they know the trouble they would be in. The Ephrurians were enraged at the murder of this nobleman, and before Miles knew it, he, his brothers, and the whole company were being hunted down. Before long Miles’ archery teacher had been killed in combat after taking a stab wound to the chest. He had been separated from one of his brothers in Ephruria, and his other brother fled back to Illia, thinking himself safer in Arphen, the place of his birth. More and more comrades continued to be killed by bounty hunters, and it became obvious to Miles that they would soon come for him.
After much thought and deliberation, one night he came to a decision. He climbed to the top of some foreign hill in some foreign land, and looked out over the mercenary band he once thought of as family, now battered and broken. He looked out over the camp, lit by the starlight and the fires burning bright in the night. His ice cold, merciless stare pierced just the same as it ever had. He cast his eyes out over the remnants of The Company one last time, pulled his cloak over his shoulders, and turned his back on them, striding towards Ephruria with his bow in hand.
He knew he it was likely he would be hunted. He knew he may never see The Company again. He knew that dangers he had never known likely lay in the path before him. But he wasn’t worried. Miles didn’t stand out. And that was just the way he liked it.
Class: Archer
Hair Color: Brown
Eye Color: Brown
Age: 25
Appearance: Miles Huron isn’t anything special. He stands at 5’9 with an average build, a bit on the thinner side. He looks a bit tired most of the time, worn and weary. He is pale skinned and his average brown hair makes it so he wouldn’t stand out in a crowd at all. His most notable feature would have to be his cold and calculating wayward stare.
Clothes: Miles often wears an inculcated green traveling cloak over his clothes. Underneath his cloak is a brown coat with a high collar and cyan trim. The coat hangs just above his knees which are covered by a worn pair of beige pants. The rest of his outfit is just as plain. Brown leather boots, brown leather gloves and a brown leather quiver
Born in: Illia
Story: Miles didn’t stand out. And that was just the way he liked it. He was born in Illia to a couple of mercenaries, and was their youngest of three children, all boys. He may as well have been a Sacaen, due to how much he travelled. You see, Miles had been born into a family of mercenaries who were a part of a larger traveling mercenary band. His relationship with his family was nothing out of the ordinary. He loved his mother, he respected his father, and he and his brothers would occasionally beat the tar out of each other. That’s just the way it was in ‘The Company’.
When he was old enough to begin training in combat, his brothers had already been swinging around swords like a couple of maniacs for a good couple of years. Many days in his young life he had spent sitting on some hill in a foreign land watching his brother’s bash away at each other with wooden training swords as they sparred. Though Miles quickly came to the conclusion that close quarters combat was not his forte, and sought out an archer in the company to teach him how to correctly handle a bow. The Company wasn’t exceptionally large, but it was sizeable enough so that he could find a teacher with ease. And that he did. While his brothers became more and more adept in the ways of the blade, Miles honed his skill with a bow and arrow. Before long he would join the other archers on hunting trips, setting out into many a forest to hunt its game. Though he certainly wasn’t the best archer in the group, he managed to shoot down a deer or a wild boar every now and again.
As time went on he would move on from hunting purely forest game, and participate in the tasks that their company was hired to do. Whether they had been hired to guard some nobleman, or to attack some group, Miles would always be a short distance from the thick of the battle, quietly notching arrow after arrow, and shooting down enemies from a distance with moderate accuracy and a cold, detachment with zero hesitation. Having been surrounded by combat his entire life, he was not shocked when a comrade did not return from battle, yet he and his remaining comrades mourned them nevertheless.
Time continued to slip on by as Miles broke into manhood. His mother passed away from an illness in Arphen, the place that he was born. To this he wept and grieved with his brothers for a time. However they had been taught all of their lives to never dwell on the past. And when The Company had found their next destination, the brothers dried their eyes, buried their mother, and set out for Etruria with the rest of The Company.
The Company had been hired once again to protect an Ephrurian noble from an opposing force, for a quite impressive sum of money. As always, The Company split off into squads once they had rendezvous with the people who had hired them. Miles went off to seek hire ground with a few other archers, while his brothers remained. However, unbenounced to them there were some dirty dealings going on just beneath the surface. Though The Company had been offered a handsome sum of money to protect this nobleman, the opposing faction had arranged with The Company’s leader, that if they turned on the nobleman and saw to it that he was slain, they would pay The Company double.
Without consulting the rest of The Company, the mercenary’s leader beheaded the nobleman they had been sent to guard. Though the majority of the members protested this dishonourable act at first, their mouths were shut after they received their pay from the opposing faction. Little did they know the trouble they would be in. The Ephrurians were enraged at the murder of this nobleman, and before Miles knew it, he, his brothers, and the whole company were being hunted down. Before long Miles’ archery teacher had been killed in combat after taking a stab wound to the chest. He had been separated from one of his brothers in Ephruria, and his other brother fled back to Illia, thinking himself safer in Arphen, the place of his birth. More and more comrades continued to be killed by bounty hunters, and it became obvious to Miles that they would soon come for him.
After much thought and deliberation, one night he came to a decision. He climbed to the top of some foreign hill in some foreign land, and looked out over the mercenary band he once thought of as family, now battered and broken. He looked out over the camp, lit by the starlight and the fires burning bright in the night. His ice cold, merciless stare pierced just the same as it ever had. He cast his eyes out over the remnants of The Company one last time, pulled his cloak over his shoulders, and turned his back on them, striding towards Ephruria with his bow in hand.
He knew he it was likely he would be hunted. He knew he may never see The Company again. He knew that dangers he had never known likely lay in the path before him. But he wasn’t worried. Miles didn’t stand out. And that was just the way he liked it.