Description
You find it hard to catch a decent view of this felar. He stays mostly
covered by a hooded white cloak. You notice a wide assortment of armors
under the gap below the clasp on his deep hood. He grips a spear in his paws
which he leans heavily upon. You notice that he is missing at least three
claws and that the sand-colored fur around his paws is interwoven with scars.
He looks at you from under his hood and grins slightly, revealing a mouth
only half full of teeth and one fang. He is missing most of the light fur on
his face and seems to only be able to open one of his eyes halfway. Ugly
scars mar his facial features and only a few whiskers stick out from his
muzzle. After looking at you and trying to gauge your intentions his face
disappears back into his cloak and out of your view.
Role
To Love, a Feline's Past
Added Thu Dec 7 15:01:39 2006 at level 1:
"Remember that no matter where you go, or what you do, you are the most
beautiful creature in the world and will always be loved."
His parents had bought him from the slave refuse bins in the market as he
lay dying in the hot son. His body and face were mangled and infected.He
was only two years old yet already feeling the cold, numbing, sleepy feeling
of deaths embrace. They were goodly people, and unable to turn a blind
eye to the evils of the slave market that day. For two silvers they bought
him, weeks worth of savings to the poor couple.They took him to the
healers guild and struck up a bargain that when he was of age he would
apprentice within the guild for ten years. The healers did what they could
for him, yet he still looked horribly mangled and scarred. His human parents
raised him as if he were their own son, though he had feline qualities and
looked much like a cat.They loved him very much and prepared him for the
cruel world by always letting him know the beauty of love and the light.
During his early years he didnt interact with other children and never
left their home. Upon his fifth name day he was taken as promised to the
guild where he was apprenticed out to a kind-faced human who immediately took
to him and set out into the world.
He was taught how to set up and prepare different poultices and teas
during this time but didnt have much of a knack for it being that he was
less intelligent than his master. Still though, he was kept on with the
healer and had no trouble loading and unloading the mules for the man.
Together they did much charity work and wandered around from city to city
helping those that couldnt help themselves. During these times Phryxal
would wear a cloak to escape the harshness and cruelty of others. He was
called a monster, and cat-freak, and even when around his own kind he was
looked upon with disdain. He became very shy and scared around new people
even though he knew deep down he was beautiful.
He still wakes up with nightmares from the first murder he ever witnessed.
master could do nothing for the Lord of the keep in which they were
called to. Phryxal felt uneasy to begin with and had a bad feeling about
entering the stronghold. Seeing his masters throat sliced neatly in a
line sent him in a rage. He was thoroughly beaten and thrown out of the
third story window, left for dead outside.
Dragging himself and crawling to the nearest city was no easy feat, though
he was known to the healers there and received service enough to keep him
alive. He took a silent oath that day to learn to fight for those who cannot
defend themselves, to always love and be understanding of those that dont
understand him, and to set upon the wicked of the world with reckless
abandon, that they might not murder and shed innocent blood.