Post by Tarlish on Feb 9, 2011 17:00:50 GMT -6
Name: Tarlish Sehna
Age: 26
Birthplace: Onboard the ship A Swallow Sails.
Gender: Male
Species: Pine Marten
Job/Position: Assassin
Physical Description: Tarlish is a slightly taller than normal member of his species. With a lean frame which ripples with muscles underneath, he can be deceptively strong for his rather slender appearance. His mouth is rimmed with rather perfect white sharp teeth and his eyes are a staring golden hue that gleams in the sunlight.
However, he is not very easy to spot, shining eyes none-the-less. His entire body is, or was wrapped in a coat of rich chestnut brown fur with a warm, equally rich and solid creamy yellow stripe painted on his underbelly. This was what he looked like until he was twelve years of age, of when he was drastically changed appearance-wise.
All of his fur from the tip of his tail to the tops of his ears was dyed completely and absolutely permanently. A mottled dark-olive green mixed with the dull brown color of simple dirt and mud and with a slight hinting shade of a dark grey scattered here and there.
This makes him perfectly capable of blending into the undergrowth with ease. Trees, brush, bushes, most forms of nature are equal hiding places for him and his dyed fur.
His tail is a bit longer than many of his species, and a bit less fluffed out with the fur much more sleeked down to the skin. His face is a bit more fox-like than other martens as well; his snout extends a bit further forward and his ears are more pointed than usual. In fact from a distance he can pass himself off as a fox, and he can do so even better with a disguise although a thorough examination without any disguise can expose his true species.
He has scars, like any of his profession. Many are small, fading, or barely even noticeable. These little marks adorn much of his skin, his arms and chest especially. Some though are larger, much more noticeable although they are well-covered by his fur and clothes. One in particular stretches from his left eye to his top lip, from when a rat’s spear blade opened up his face.
Belongings: Tarlish obviously carries weapons for his profession. One sword with a two-and-a half foot blade, double edged, is his primary weapon for combat. It is unique however, as it has been dyed also when it was still am molten metal. When it was finished, it was a drab olive green that makes it difficult to spot as it reflects little light. Tarlish also carries eight throwing knives on a bandolier stretching diagonally across his chest, plus one larger knife at his side. However his most unique weapon is an ingenious device attached to his left wrist which, when activated, causes a blade hidden within the gauntlet to spring forth and lock into place, afterwards it can be snapped back inside. This provides a very stealthy and efficient assassination tool.
Weapons aside, he does not possess much. His clothing consists of a black tunic underneath his hooded robe which is dyed like himself, similar to the fabled Marlfoxes.
Personality: Tarlish is a friendly if an untrusting individual. His line of work has made him not the most trusting of souls although once you earn his trust you have it forever. He enjoys the company of others at times after spending too much time in the woods, although he does not work very well with a team, he’s spend too much time operating independently for that.
He is a bit of a practical joker, loving to play pranks on friends and foe alike. He enjoys challenges, he often engages in contests of many varieties. He is clever and rather arrogant in his own abilities. He loves to tell of his tales of conquest and victory although he does embellish them as time progresses. Of course, most of his stories are not for weak minds.
However to vermin, well, he is a completely different story.
Tarlish, the child of propaganda and indoctrination. The experiences his parents had, indeed that most of his tribe had, convinced them to push their own hate-laden views upon their children. Tarlish despises them with al his being.
He does not hate them as an enemy though, not as some cruelty which must be defeated. Rather he hates them the way a doctor hates an infection. Vermin are, as he has been taught all his life, not natural. They are manifestations of pure evil no matter how they appear. Babes, old beasts, young ones, females, they all be purged without remorse or hesitation.
Tarlish hunts them down not as a form of personal vengeance or justice, but because he simply must. They are a mistake, a cancer of you will. Polluting the world with all forms of evil. His logic as since evil and horror is simply not natural, and the vermin are the source of this, the vermin themselves are unnatural and must be expunged so the unnatural will not disturb the natural anymore.
Many call him a monster. A blood-thirsty sadistic killer. Tarlish thinks they to be confused, misguided. As he remorselessly hacked down rat and ferret babes and their mothers despite screams of terror and mercy, a Long Patrol officer tried to stop what he saw as evil slaughter. Tarlish managed to incapacitate him before continuing the deed and permanently traumatizing the poor creature.
He is a professional killer, he rarely tries to extend or prolong agony. He simply kills the quickest way for efficiency’s sake, not for pity’s sake.
History: Tarlish’s drama began in the womb when his mother and father where the joint leaders of a small town of several hundred on the coast of the Southern Isle of Argong. The population was dominantly marten although there were many mice, hedgehogs and hares as well, even a few otters and squirrels.
This was a traumatic time for the Isles, for merely a few weeks ago the Crimson Hordes of the Wolverine Warlord Vara Shvall has a launched a massive, full-scale invasion of Argong and its sister isle, the Isle of Phineas under the rule of the Wildcat Patriarchy.
All males were being called to the large cities to help the new war effort so the city at the time was largely composed of females, elders and babes although Tarlish’s father stayed for the sake of administration to the town.
He and his wife had also tried to keep out of the war due to their pacifistic natures. They were of a rare breed, convinced that the barbaric invaders could in fact be reasoned with, that the rulership had never even attempted a truce or peace talks, they defended this heatedly in the courts of Lord Daje. They debated to intently in fact, the Lord granted them permission to create a small envoy to the hordes and call for peace talks, mainly so Lord
Daje could rid him of this troubling opposition to the war.
However a week before they were set to depart, tragedy struck as they learned the true nature of their barbaric foe.
Vara Shvall was a cunning strategist and he had split off several portions of his horde to sweep down both costs of Argong to destroy any coastal outposts in an effort to both spread fear and terror but also to cut off some of their main supplies of fish, and even to rid them of some ports for the fleet.
Tarlish’s town was hit with raw and absolute savageness. Thankfully some scouts managed to send warning, giving them a few precious hours to load some ships and prepare defenses, just in case.
It was like a few sticks holding back a river. Several thousand vermin swamped the town, lead by a dozen of Vara’s elite wolf guard. A few dozen of the survivors managed to get to the docks and cast off while the several dozen strong old reserve guard managed to hold the narrow entrance to the docks for a few precious minutes.
At sea the lone ship met up with ten others from different likewise destroyed towns and ports. Together they made headway for the southern tip of Mossflowers coast. It was during this desperate voyage Tarlish was born, into a world of anger, horror and mournfulness.
His parent’s completely changed their pacifistic opinions, and quickly began to transform the survivors, in coordination with the other leaders, into a warrior faction. Once they managed to fully establish themselves in Mossflowers, they began to dissolve into a dozen nomadic tribes who were determined to wipe away
vermin from nature and to one day return to their homeland.
Tarlish was trained accordingly and according to his strengths. As it was discovered he excelled in moving silently, hiding and creeping up on beasts, he was trained as an assassin by a few of the survivors who were former members of a small group of silent killers called the Ashashani.
He was trained in the arts of various different weapons intensively. He learned to mimic the crude and terrible speech of the vermin themselves, even perfecting an accent. He learned how to use materials to increase his appearance until he could easily pass as a fox.
When he turned sixteen years of age he was deemed ready to depart and so he did. He left to do the work he had been assigned by his tribe and his parents, to clean the world of the unnatural vermin, no matter how he did it. And he does pray every day to Ka that one day his mission will be complete.
Codewords: Correct!
Age: 26
Birthplace: Onboard the ship A Swallow Sails.
Gender: Male
Species: Pine Marten
Job/Position: Assassin
Physical Description: Tarlish is a slightly taller than normal member of his species. With a lean frame which ripples with muscles underneath, he can be deceptively strong for his rather slender appearance. His mouth is rimmed with rather perfect white sharp teeth and his eyes are a staring golden hue that gleams in the sunlight.
However, he is not very easy to spot, shining eyes none-the-less. His entire body is, or was wrapped in a coat of rich chestnut brown fur with a warm, equally rich and solid creamy yellow stripe painted on his underbelly. This was what he looked like until he was twelve years of age, of when he was drastically changed appearance-wise.
All of his fur from the tip of his tail to the tops of his ears was dyed completely and absolutely permanently. A mottled dark-olive green mixed with the dull brown color of simple dirt and mud and with a slight hinting shade of a dark grey scattered here and there.
This makes him perfectly capable of blending into the undergrowth with ease. Trees, brush, bushes, most forms of nature are equal hiding places for him and his dyed fur.
His tail is a bit longer than many of his species, and a bit less fluffed out with the fur much more sleeked down to the skin. His face is a bit more fox-like than other martens as well; his snout extends a bit further forward and his ears are more pointed than usual. In fact from a distance he can pass himself off as a fox, and he can do so even better with a disguise although a thorough examination without any disguise can expose his true species.
He has scars, like any of his profession. Many are small, fading, or barely even noticeable. These little marks adorn much of his skin, his arms and chest especially. Some though are larger, much more noticeable although they are well-covered by his fur and clothes. One in particular stretches from his left eye to his top lip, from when a rat’s spear blade opened up his face.
Belongings: Tarlish obviously carries weapons for his profession. One sword with a two-and-a half foot blade, double edged, is his primary weapon for combat. It is unique however, as it has been dyed also when it was still am molten metal. When it was finished, it was a drab olive green that makes it difficult to spot as it reflects little light. Tarlish also carries eight throwing knives on a bandolier stretching diagonally across his chest, plus one larger knife at his side. However his most unique weapon is an ingenious device attached to his left wrist which, when activated, causes a blade hidden within the gauntlet to spring forth and lock into place, afterwards it can be snapped back inside. This provides a very stealthy and efficient assassination tool.
Weapons aside, he does not possess much. His clothing consists of a black tunic underneath his hooded robe which is dyed like himself, similar to the fabled Marlfoxes.
Personality: Tarlish is a friendly if an untrusting individual. His line of work has made him not the most trusting of souls although once you earn his trust you have it forever. He enjoys the company of others at times after spending too much time in the woods, although he does not work very well with a team, he’s spend too much time operating independently for that.
He is a bit of a practical joker, loving to play pranks on friends and foe alike. He enjoys challenges, he often engages in contests of many varieties. He is clever and rather arrogant in his own abilities. He loves to tell of his tales of conquest and victory although he does embellish them as time progresses. Of course, most of his stories are not for weak minds.
However to vermin, well, he is a completely different story.
Tarlish, the child of propaganda and indoctrination. The experiences his parents had, indeed that most of his tribe had, convinced them to push their own hate-laden views upon their children. Tarlish despises them with al his being.
He does not hate them as an enemy though, not as some cruelty which must be defeated. Rather he hates them the way a doctor hates an infection. Vermin are, as he has been taught all his life, not natural. They are manifestations of pure evil no matter how they appear. Babes, old beasts, young ones, females, they all be purged without remorse or hesitation.
Tarlish hunts them down not as a form of personal vengeance or justice, but because he simply must. They are a mistake, a cancer of you will. Polluting the world with all forms of evil. His logic as since evil and horror is simply not natural, and the vermin are the source of this, the vermin themselves are unnatural and must be expunged so the unnatural will not disturb the natural anymore.
Many call him a monster. A blood-thirsty sadistic killer. Tarlish thinks they to be confused, misguided. As he remorselessly hacked down rat and ferret babes and their mothers despite screams of terror and mercy, a Long Patrol officer tried to stop what he saw as evil slaughter. Tarlish managed to incapacitate him before continuing the deed and permanently traumatizing the poor creature.
He is a professional killer, he rarely tries to extend or prolong agony. He simply kills the quickest way for efficiency’s sake, not for pity’s sake.
History: Tarlish’s drama began in the womb when his mother and father where the joint leaders of a small town of several hundred on the coast of the Southern Isle of Argong. The population was dominantly marten although there were many mice, hedgehogs and hares as well, even a few otters and squirrels.
This was a traumatic time for the Isles, for merely a few weeks ago the Crimson Hordes of the Wolverine Warlord Vara Shvall has a launched a massive, full-scale invasion of Argong and its sister isle, the Isle of Phineas under the rule of the Wildcat Patriarchy.
All males were being called to the large cities to help the new war effort so the city at the time was largely composed of females, elders and babes although Tarlish’s father stayed for the sake of administration to the town.
He and his wife had also tried to keep out of the war due to their pacifistic natures. They were of a rare breed, convinced that the barbaric invaders could in fact be reasoned with, that the rulership had never even attempted a truce or peace talks, they defended this heatedly in the courts of Lord Daje. They debated to intently in fact, the Lord granted them permission to create a small envoy to the hordes and call for peace talks, mainly so Lord
Daje could rid him of this troubling opposition to the war.
However a week before they were set to depart, tragedy struck as they learned the true nature of their barbaric foe.
Vara Shvall was a cunning strategist and he had split off several portions of his horde to sweep down both costs of Argong to destroy any coastal outposts in an effort to both spread fear and terror but also to cut off some of their main supplies of fish, and even to rid them of some ports for the fleet.
Tarlish’s town was hit with raw and absolute savageness. Thankfully some scouts managed to send warning, giving them a few precious hours to load some ships and prepare defenses, just in case.
It was like a few sticks holding back a river. Several thousand vermin swamped the town, lead by a dozen of Vara’s elite wolf guard. A few dozen of the survivors managed to get to the docks and cast off while the several dozen strong old reserve guard managed to hold the narrow entrance to the docks for a few precious minutes.
At sea the lone ship met up with ten others from different likewise destroyed towns and ports. Together they made headway for the southern tip of Mossflowers coast. It was during this desperate voyage Tarlish was born, into a world of anger, horror and mournfulness.
His parent’s completely changed their pacifistic opinions, and quickly began to transform the survivors, in coordination with the other leaders, into a warrior faction. Once they managed to fully establish themselves in Mossflowers, they began to dissolve into a dozen nomadic tribes who were determined to wipe away
vermin from nature and to one day return to their homeland.
Tarlish was trained accordingly and according to his strengths. As it was discovered he excelled in moving silently, hiding and creeping up on beasts, he was trained as an assassin by a few of the survivors who were former members of a small group of silent killers called the Ashashani.
He was trained in the arts of various different weapons intensively. He learned to mimic the crude and terrible speech of the vermin themselves, even perfecting an accent. He learned how to use materials to increase his appearance until he could easily pass as a fox.
When he turned sixteen years of age he was deemed ready to depart and so he did. He left to do the work he had been assigned by his tribe and his parents, to clean the world of the unnatural vermin, no matter how he did it. And he does pray every day to Ka that one day his mission will be complete.
Codewords: Correct!
