Post by hallaloth on Sept 25, 2006 20:55:18 GMT -5
Name: Anil
Gender: Male
Age: 128
Height: 15hh at horse's shoulder
Race: Centuar
Physical Description: Pure black, literally. From his hair, to his hooves, human body to horse skin and hair, he's pure black. Even the whites in his eyes are midnight black. He wears black leather trimmed with silver, and his blade, hilt and hilt are silver as well.
Personality: A mysterious creature to say the least. He rents himself out as a guard, a mercanary, or any sort of fighter. He does not, however, fight on the battle feild. Why he will not say. Often he can be seen staring at the night sky, in the light of day, he wears of blindfold of silver trimmed in black.
Specilties: Second sight, incredibly acute to earthen magic, shifter
Weaponry: hooves, short sword and throwing knives
History:
A warrior in the elite class of centuars during an age old war between them and the dragons. While he cannot see in the light of day, the acute awareness of his surroundings has kept him alive. At night, he can see as well as the best hunter can in the day.
He fought as a general in that war, but he lost his entire regiment to an ambush. He's never been back on the battle front sense, and he won't go within twenty miles of a dragon if he can help it. There are whip marks on his back, a time in his younger years when he was inprisoned by faerie and used as a pack animal, its still a harboring bitterness. One wouldn't expect him to talk about it.
He also has another strange quality that allows him to move into inns. Since childhood he has been able to shift into one form or another of his half self. As a human he is blind, but can move about easily in most places. It makes it easy to get into places where centaurs cannot go. Or he can shift into a horse and escape with ease, for he can see then.
However he can only hold a form for a day, and is only able to shift once every nine days, with each shift in the phases of the moon really. Its a dangerous life he's led, but thats who Anil is.
Introduction:
The Pure Black centaur stopped on the hilltop, shivering as the moon began to rise. It was cold out here tonight, but it didn't both him. No what bothered him was that he was unable to run as a horse that night, because he'd wasted his time as man three days ago. It has gotten him no where either.
That was what he got for trusting the foolish humanity that was a part of him. More often then not he longed to cast off his human half, or split his spirit in two so he could in a half suspence between the two. But he knew of no way to do such.
Shaking his head he toyed with teh hilt of his silver blade, lifting it and letting it spin, hissing and whining through the air as he plunged down the slope, a centaurian warcry sounding through the stark night air, before the wind died and the only sign of his presence was the hoof prints in the sand.
Gender: Male
Age: 128
Height: 15hh at horse's shoulder
Race: Centuar
Physical Description: Pure black, literally. From his hair, to his hooves, human body to horse skin and hair, he's pure black. Even the whites in his eyes are midnight black. He wears black leather trimmed with silver, and his blade, hilt and hilt are silver as well.
Personality: A mysterious creature to say the least. He rents himself out as a guard, a mercanary, or any sort of fighter. He does not, however, fight on the battle feild. Why he will not say. Often he can be seen staring at the night sky, in the light of day, he wears of blindfold of silver trimmed in black.
Specilties: Second sight, incredibly acute to earthen magic, shifter
Weaponry: hooves, short sword and throwing knives
History:
A warrior in the elite class of centuars during an age old war between them and the dragons. While he cannot see in the light of day, the acute awareness of his surroundings has kept him alive. At night, he can see as well as the best hunter can in the day.
He fought as a general in that war, but he lost his entire regiment to an ambush. He's never been back on the battle front sense, and he won't go within twenty miles of a dragon if he can help it. There are whip marks on his back, a time in his younger years when he was inprisoned by faerie and used as a pack animal, its still a harboring bitterness. One wouldn't expect him to talk about it.
He also has another strange quality that allows him to move into inns. Since childhood he has been able to shift into one form or another of his half self. As a human he is blind, but can move about easily in most places. It makes it easy to get into places where centaurs cannot go. Or he can shift into a horse and escape with ease, for he can see then.
However he can only hold a form for a day, and is only able to shift once every nine days, with each shift in the phases of the moon really. Its a dangerous life he's led, but thats who Anil is.
Introduction:
The Pure Black centaur stopped on the hilltop, shivering as the moon began to rise. It was cold out here tonight, but it didn't both him. No what bothered him was that he was unable to run as a horse that night, because he'd wasted his time as man three days ago. It has gotten him no where either.
That was what he got for trusting the foolish humanity that was a part of him. More often then not he longed to cast off his human half, or split his spirit in two so he could in a half suspence between the two. But he knew of no way to do such.
Shaking his head he toyed with teh hilt of his silver blade, lifting it and letting it spin, hissing and whining through the air as he plunged down the slope, a centaurian warcry sounding through the stark night air, before the wind died and the only sign of his presence was the hoof prints in the sand.
