Name: "Jericho Kaite" (Kaitra J. Elzbrn)
Age: 45 (Equivalent to 25ish with the elven side)
Height: 1.78m
Weight: 61.2kg (Toned elven physique)
Class: Knight 
Race: Half-elf (Human Father/Elf Mother)
[Hider=Appearance][img]http://orig15.deviantart.net/bdd5/f/2015/181/9/9/5e3bf55face47e3a3d03d02c06044520_by_aheurung-d8zg7am.jpg[/img][/hider]
[u]Weapons & Equipment[/u]
-Steel roundshield (blacksteel front with signs of a crest that had been pried out and filed down to unrecognizable scuffs)
-Masterwork longsword
-Silver Shortsword (sheathed in shield)
-The remnants of The Black Knight of Ispar's Thornplate and shield

[Hider=Skills and Abilities]
Elvish Traits- Elves learn at a young age to substitute sleep with a type of meditation which requires less time than conventional sleep in order to feel well rested. Dim lighting poses little hindrance thanks to their eyes which rapidly adjust to light (pitch black is still pitch black).

Left-Handed - Most combat styles are meant to combat against right-handed wielders. The left-handed combat style can sometimes catch humanoid-type opponents off guard.

Hearty- Being born and raised in the cold of Ispar, Kaite has undergone strenuous sparring a is disciplined to shrug off most superficial injuries as well as a stark resiliency to cold. Kaite is surprisingly strong and agile for her build (You won't see her doing much acrobatics, but a 1v1 fight is greatly discouraged)

Brawler Stance- While Kaite is most lethal with a shortsword in her offhand, she often substitutes with her shield to serve the purpose of a weapon as well as its obvious defensive advantages. By assailing foes with stunning bashes and punishing punches with the spiked pommel of the lock-sheathed shortsword, the greatest threat remains to be the keen edge of her longsword...assuming her enemies can stay focused long enough to defend themselves from the rapid and calculated vorpal stabs.

Skirmisher Stance- Drawing her shortsword after latching her shield to her backplate (Covers the shoulderplates and up, connecting to her pauldrons(The addition of the shield protects her flank)), she often opens engagements with this stance with powerful sweeping strikes with her longsword and following up with offhand slashes to punish reeling foes. Of this stance, her favourite tactic is to catch unwary or underprepared targets with a flurry of stabs in the hopes of overwhelming the target and ending the encounter as quickly as possible. Capitalizing on deep strikes, Kaite often follows up with stunning shoulder/hip(or pecks from her visor) bashes which utilize her armor's spikes before aiming to finish the fight with a full-body slash from both weapons, simultaneously.

[i][color=630460]Note: "Jericho Kaite" is a vicious killer with little concern for mercy on the battefield. While she may have the patience to beat an opponent to a bloody mess, she isn't above executing the helpless unless stopped...for this reason, its assumed that the armor of the black knight is cursed. Its origin is widely unknown and is rumored to corrupt knights who wear it. The trade is near-true dominance in the art of the sword. [color=1b1464]Containing the souls of spellswords who sought to control it, the armor & shield also have a slight resistance to magic.[/color][/color][/i][/hider]
Bio: [color=bc8dbf]There began a legend that was whispered in the of Ispar some 15 years ago of a romance between a Human magician and an Elven blacksmith. That was the point when the tragedy began to come to light, and the good people of that frozen town woke up to the tale I intend to tell...

I remember watching mother train father with the sword. Sometimes the bark of wooden swords upon each other would wake me in the morning and I would watch their dance. He wasn't much, physically, heh...but he loved to cheat. With his magic, that is...
Love bound them, even after my brother was killed by the guard over petty theft.
I didn't see much of father after that, and one day, he simply never returned. Mother told me that he had left to settle the score with the man who put my brother up to the task. Soon afterwards, she wished for me to let her train me to be as good of a knight as father had come to be, so that I may use it to good unto the world where evil would manifest as your friend from birth...
I'd received my fair share of lumps and scratches from training, but I wore them like a tabard. I knew what I was doing, and so did the guard who thought I could benefit more from 'proper' training. Unlike my classmates, my first kill didn't come until it was far too late for me to learn the weight of my actions.

There was a rumor of a man clad in ebony black steel who wielded both sword and magic to accost students who hoped to make pilgrimage to the universities of Ispar. Convinced that the lead I had was solid, I hunted the rogue knight. I was certain, at first, that is was just a spook story of a bandit chieftain...until I was knee deep in my men's blood and charred remains. Every swing the man took was deliberate and calculated, though I was never harmed; a mistake I capitalized on...and a mistake on my end which proved to be my own undoing.
There did lie in the suit of steel, my father. I was so foolish, barely over myself to be able to hear anything he said. Angry, ashamed...I rejected him in the moment. I'm sure he had a reason for his actions. Rage against the town and wanting to ward off travelers in the hopes to cripple the economy? Senile descent? Inlaced evil? Some combination?
Before I could collect myself enough to ask, he was gone...leaving me in a field of scarlet-stained snow and a half tattered suit of my father's armor.
I stole what I could...and that's how the song truly ends, as I fled for Alvion with the gold wrenched from the frozen figures of the already cold corpses...and enough shame that I feared the ship would simply sink from the burden I had since come to terms with...mostly. The armor is a constant reminder. Of also, the mother who's thought the last of her family dead at the hands of her insane husband.[/color]
Her travels from port would lead Kaite through various odd jobs dealing with bandits along the way where her craft was more thoroughly honed. Ultimately, she seeks redemption for a family name she has long since abandoned. Lack of most motivation, she's partially given in to the will of the armor to seek out challenges.
Wherever they may hide, and wherever her subconscious can be manipulated to look.