Post by rakingclaw on Aug 16, 2008 21:45:57 GMT -5
Name: - Balash “Bloody Blade” Tigran
Age- 30 seasons
Birth Date- does not know
Gender- Male
Species- Black Rat
Occupation and Home- Cutthroat, Assassin, Pirate, Thief, Wanderer
Alignment- Chaotic evil
Ship- Wavescar
Appearance- Balash has a lean, sinewy build, with large smoldering yellow eyes like the dying coals of a funeral pyre, and a thick shiny coat of pitch black hair. He has a long pink scar that runs the entire length of his face and neck branching out to a large missing chunk of his upper lip. Both of his ears are pierced several times with small skull shaped studs, starting from the tips and ending in a strait line at the bottom. He wears a full body jet black studded leather jerkin, a hooded black cloak, two crisscrossing bandoliers full of small razor sharp knives, and a tightly knotted coal colored sash around his waist that holds his pistols and kukris.
Personality- Cruel and capricious is the best way to describe him. The only thing life has taught him is that might makes right, and to be a victim is to invite misery and weakness upon your self. He despises those who can’t defend themselves but will not kill them, believing that death wants the souls of warriors and he seeks to placate her with them hoping she will take him back to her side once again. The only love in his life is the pure bloodthirsty joy of the slaughter, that being said he holds no loyalty to any beast and has killed vermin and good beast alike. To say he courts death is a gross understatement, he yearns for it actively seeks it and strives with every contract, every kill to get the blissful release he has so longed for. He however does not believe he will earn a place at deaths side unless he encounters another beast worthy of his skill and to that end alone he takes the hardest contracts in the most defended places with open arms and a grim smile on his face.
Strengths:
• Balash is deadly accurate with throwing knives or pistols, and equally as deadly in hand to hand combat with his kukris.
• He is a master of stealth and subterfuge, rarely having not surprised the beast he is seeking to kill.
• He possesses great agility and this alone has allowed him to access places few beasts could.
Character Weaknesses:
• Balash cares nothing for his life or the lives of others and this alone has made his entire existence hollow and meaningless
• He is vulgar, cold and uncaring, having not a single companion in the world.
• He is alone, destined to walk the earth until death claims his blacked heart.
Weaponry- - Balash carries ten or so small throwing knives on his person, his knotted sash he uses to strangle other beasts, two bone handled kukris, and a twin pair of pearl handled single shot pistols.
Parents- (Father) Skarn “Scar Flank” Tigran who he killed, He does not know his mother, who died during childbirth.
Siblings- None
Other Relationships- None
History-- Balash was born to one of the many hordes of vermin that has swept the world. His life from the beginning was a life of pain and brutality, receiving constant vicious beatings and no food but the maggots and refuse he could grab with his tiny claws. His father was one of the great generals of the vermin army, but to him his son was nothing, a burden brought about by one of many nights with a nameless rat wench, who died at childbirth. The only time he received any approval, any acknowledgment of his existence save to beat and brutalize was when he proved his grit in battle. To that end he strove with all the determination and strength he could muster, and to that end he succeeded. At the mere age of 16 he killed his father in a bloody battle that left him scarred and near death. It was then his life gained reason. Lying in a pool of his and his father blood death came to him as a beautiful rat maiden, her coat was a deep black the color of a starless night, she wore nothing but a trailing cloak seemingly weaved out of liquid shadow and barely covering her naked form, but carried herself with the regal pose of the highest of royalty. Her eyes were black as the pits of hell and bore the souls of all the dead beasts of the world. She pressed against him lightly stroking his face with her icy fingers. Then he awoke, the metallic taste of blood still filling his mouth, he forced himself to his feet and faced his fathers troops. With a vociferous roar they accepted him as their leader. But the brush with death had changed him. He no longer cared about approval, about power, about even his own life. All that mattered was her, and feeling her fingers on his cheek again. He killed to please her; with each death he hoped it would be enough. But each night as he shut his eyes hoping to catch a mere glimpse of her form, she never showed never once. He grew desperate and in his desperation he caused a fatal error in a pivotal battle, resulting in the complete rout of the entire army. His troops were supposed to guard the flanks preventing a complete encirclement. But he against orders charged his troops deep into the heart of the battle. The result was catastrophic and Balash himself was knocked unconscious, in an uncharacteristic move one of the rats from the army carried him out of the battle. When he awoke, his rage was all consuming in its fury and he killed that very rat that saved him, ripping out the beast’s throat with his teeth. The armies Seer fearing a great curse had befallen them all ordered Balash to be tied to a tree and the entire camp abandoned. Balash struggled for days against his bonds, till at last delirious and dying from exposure she came to him again. Her voice was the tinkling of tears on stone and as cold as the moment of death. “My Balash my sweet Balash” she purred “Are you not happy to see me?”
“Why have you not taken me!” he screamed “I have devoted my life to you! I have killed so many in your name! Take me with you!”
Sneering she asked “Why should I bear the look of your disfigured face?”
“But I’m yours…..” he wept.
“You are nothing but worthless flesh, and until you have earned me we will not meet again” and with that she was gone. Balash raged against his bonds “come back!! What must I do! I will give you all the blood in the world, just come back!” He howled again and again into the empty darkness. A fading voice whispered into his mind “kill and I will come”. An old shrew was passing by and found Balash still whispering “Come back!” his lips swollen shut with thirst. The kind shrew untied thinking him to be a deserter. Balash strangled him to death with his bare hands gathered his discarded weapons and armor, and strode into the darkness. Hungry to please his only love, so that she may welcome him again with open arms.
Age- 30 seasons
Birth Date- does not know
Gender- Male
Species- Black Rat
Occupation and Home- Cutthroat, Assassin, Pirate, Thief, Wanderer
Alignment- Chaotic evil
Ship- Wavescar
Appearance- Balash has a lean, sinewy build, with large smoldering yellow eyes like the dying coals of a funeral pyre, and a thick shiny coat of pitch black hair. He has a long pink scar that runs the entire length of his face and neck branching out to a large missing chunk of his upper lip. Both of his ears are pierced several times with small skull shaped studs, starting from the tips and ending in a strait line at the bottom. He wears a full body jet black studded leather jerkin, a hooded black cloak, two crisscrossing bandoliers full of small razor sharp knives, and a tightly knotted coal colored sash around his waist that holds his pistols and kukris.
Personality- Cruel and capricious is the best way to describe him. The only thing life has taught him is that might makes right, and to be a victim is to invite misery and weakness upon your self. He despises those who can’t defend themselves but will not kill them, believing that death wants the souls of warriors and he seeks to placate her with them hoping she will take him back to her side once again. The only love in his life is the pure bloodthirsty joy of the slaughter, that being said he holds no loyalty to any beast and has killed vermin and good beast alike. To say he courts death is a gross understatement, he yearns for it actively seeks it and strives with every contract, every kill to get the blissful release he has so longed for. He however does not believe he will earn a place at deaths side unless he encounters another beast worthy of his skill and to that end alone he takes the hardest contracts in the most defended places with open arms and a grim smile on his face.
Strengths:
• Balash is deadly accurate with throwing knives or pistols, and equally as deadly in hand to hand combat with his kukris.
• He is a master of stealth and subterfuge, rarely having not surprised the beast he is seeking to kill.
• He possesses great agility and this alone has allowed him to access places few beasts could.
Character Weaknesses:
• Balash cares nothing for his life or the lives of others and this alone has made his entire existence hollow and meaningless
• He is vulgar, cold and uncaring, having not a single companion in the world.
• He is alone, destined to walk the earth until death claims his blacked heart.
Weaponry- - Balash carries ten or so small throwing knives on his person, his knotted sash he uses to strangle other beasts, two bone handled kukris, and a twin pair of pearl handled single shot pistols.
Parents- (Father) Skarn “Scar Flank” Tigran who he killed, He does not know his mother, who died during childbirth.
Siblings- None
Other Relationships- None
History-- Balash was born to one of the many hordes of vermin that has swept the world. His life from the beginning was a life of pain and brutality, receiving constant vicious beatings and no food but the maggots and refuse he could grab with his tiny claws. His father was one of the great generals of the vermin army, but to him his son was nothing, a burden brought about by one of many nights with a nameless rat wench, who died at childbirth. The only time he received any approval, any acknowledgment of his existence save to beat and brutalize was when he proved his grit in battle. To that end he strove with all the determination and strength he could muster, and to that end he succeeded. At the mere age of 16 he killed his father in a bloody battle that left him scarred and near death. It was then his life gained reason. Lying in a pool of his and his father blood death came to him as a beautiful rat maiden, her coat was a deep black the color of a starless night, she wore nothing but a trailing cloak seemingly weaved out of liquid shadow and barely covering her naked form, but carried herself with the regal pose of the highest of royalty. Her eyes were black as the pits of hell and bore the souls of all the dead beasts of the world. She pressed against him lightly stroking his face with her icy fingers. Then he awoke, the metallic taste of blood still filling his mouth, he forced himself to his feet and faced his fathers troops. With a vociferous roar they accepted him as their leader. But the brush with death had changed him. He no longer cared about approval, about power, about even his own life. All that mattered was her, and feeling her fingers on his cheek again. He killed to please her; with each death he hoped it would be enough. But each night as he shut his eyes hoping to catch a mere glimpse of her form, she never showed never once. He grew desperate and in his desperation he caused a fatal error in a pivotal battle, resulting in the complete rout of the entire army. His troops were supposed to guard the flanks preventing a complete encirclement. But he against orders charged his troops deep into the heart of the battle. The result was catastrophic and Balash himself was knocked unconscious, in an uncharacteristic move one of the rats from the army carried him out of the battle. When he awoke, his rage was all consuming in its fury and he killed that very rat that saved him, ripping out the beast’s throat with his teeth. The armies Seer fearing a great curse had befallen them all ordered Balash to be tied to a tree and the entire camp abandoned. Balash struggled for days against his bonds, till at last delirious and dying from exposure she came to him again. Her voice was the tinkling of tears on stone and as cold as the moment of death. “My Balash my sweet Balash” she purred “Are you not happy to see me?”
“Why have you not taken me!” he screamed “I have devoted my life to you! I have killed so many in your name! Take me with you!”
Sneering she asked “Why should I bear the look of your disfigured face?”
“But I’m yours…..” he wept.
“You are nothing but worthless flesh, and until you have earned me we will not meet again” and with that she was gone. Balash raged against his bonds “come back!! What must I do! I will give you all the blood in the world, just come back!” He howled again and again into the empty darkness. A fading voice whispered into his mind “kill and I will come”. An old shrew was passing by and found Balash still whispering “Come back!” his lips swollen shut with thirst. The kind shrew untied thinking him to be a deserter. Balash strangled him to death with his bare hands gathered his discarded weapons and armor, and strode into the darkness. Hungry to please his only love, so that she may welcome him again with open arms.
