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by Whitie » Tue Jan 04, 2011 8:13 am
Ooc: Sorry about the poor quality of the pic. ^^;
Name: Barclay
Gender: Male
Country: Cegian
Age: 24
Race: Wolf
Class: Archer
Appearance: Barclay
Barclay is a wolf-humanoid that is coloured with hues of brown, except from his white throat and stomach. Two black brow dots are above his yellow eyes, and black line the rims of his ears. His paw hands and feet are a light brown with black rings around the digits, while his paw pads are black and hard.
He usually wears a black hooded cloak, and a white swashbuckler dress shirt beneath a scarlet vest over top covers his torso. The vest is black on the backside with a buckle upon the lower back. His pants are black cloth, with a leather belt-like contraption hugging his waist. His dagger and quiver of arrows rest on his left side, while a pouch is on his right. White bandages bind his pants leg underneath the knee joints of his digitigrade legs. A gold anklet with a sapphire jewel hugs is left ankle There is a wrist guard on his left hand, being that he is an archer.
Statistics: Pack: telepathy with other wolves; Archer: +1 Str, +1 Int, ranged weapon of choice, +25% chance of ranged attack hit; Bow: 2+ 1/2 int + 1/2 str
HP: 12
Strength: 6 +1
Speed: 5
Intelligence: 6 +1
Charisma: 3
Bio: Born to a middle class family, Barclay had been raised by a loving mother and father. They took utmost care in making sure that their son would grow up to be a polite young man, the typical respectful type. They taught him right from wrong and did the best they could to provide him with what they could afford. He followed in his father’s footsteps and took up archery. His eyes are keen, his speed quick, and his mind sharp. With his nimble fingers, he excels in the way of marksmanship and makes his father proud. When Barclay was fifteen, his father had caught illness and passed away soon after; his immune system became frail and couldn’t handle the intensity of the bacteria that overwhelmed his body. His mother became overwhelmed with grief and simply had felt that life was a wretched thing and feared that it would take away Barclay, too. Having to deal with his grieving mother, Barclay had to do what he could to keep the family alive, until the day she passed away when he was eighteen. After that, he took care of himself.
« Will you drink to the earth, and to the days which have passed upon it?
Will you drink to the fullness which was, and to the friends who have passed on?
Will these things set us on, Old Mother? »
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Whitie
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