[hider=Rock] [center][color=f7941d][h1]Rock[/h1][/color] [img]https://cdnb.artstation.com/p/assets/images/images/042/106/299/large/hadong-song-spearman-crop.jpg?1633590192[/img] [img]https://i.postimg.cc/1X5d8krK/Rock.png[/img] [hr] [h1]Basic Information[/h1] [hr] [h2]Age: 26[/h2] [h2]Race: Half-Dragonian Half-Human, though he seems to possess no traits from the former.[/h2] [h2]Class: Fighter[/h2] [h2]Weapons: Glaive, Shield, Shortsword, Heavy Crossbow [/h2] [h2]Detailed Appearance: Rock stands at reasonable six foot even, Rock just as his name sake is built as solid as they come. Head to toe in honed muscle gained from years of labor and extensive battle. Though, surprisingly he's not as wide as one might expect. The physique he has is a functional one, built for explosive movement and great feats of strength and as such his musculature is not as showy as some of the nobles who have taken to body building as their hobby. Most of the time he tends to be fully clad in his armor if he can help it. He does have casual clothes though likely through inherent mistrust and discomfort he rarely chooses to wear them outside of his own encampment or whatever Inn room he's using at any given moment. The main exception of course is when he's out schmoozing clients or schmoozing women... or both. It's at that point when the helmet falls away to reveal the mess of jet black locks that lay beneath. His hair is cut short but not so short that there isn't volume to it. Rather if it were any longer it might start obstructing his vision and paired with it is the characteristic five o' clock shadow of a man who has actively take time out of his day to remember to shave. His brows, bushy, and thick make for a rather expressive but also intimidating face that is only heightened by the number of scars that mar it. Those scars continue everywhere else across as body as well, though most will never get a chance to look at them.[/h2] [h2]Bio History:[/h2] Everyone has their own relationship to war. Some wage it, either in foolhardy attempts at conquest, or in frighteningly efficient campaigns of death and territorial expansion. Others support it, either to line their own pockets or to placate those who they know would be less than [i]charitable[/i] towards any dissent. Even more are forced into it, either via their sons and husbands being ripped from their arms or those very same sons and husbands having to make peace with dying in a ditch with nothing but the blow flies to listen to their own self composed eulogies. Yet few have to face those horrors head on, make decisions that they know will lead to the deaths of hundreds, thousands, all of which they've seen, personally, off to what they know is nothing more than a meat grinder. Few have what it takes to survive those horrors, and fewer still have what it takes to survive the nightmares that come after. And yet, when all the fighting is done, with the land now finally having time to settle the blood that's been left stained across it, there comes a final, even rarer class of folk. [b]Those, that treat war as a profession.[/b] Rock. Born on a stone they said. And apparently Rock just rolled off the tongue better than [i]boulder[/i]. Probably during a mission in some godforsaken part of the Western Rife. Still, maybe it was a blessing. There's worse things to be in his line of work than a Rock. For as long as I could remember, all I'd known was the company. My first memory was of trudging through dirt and mud whilst escorting a merchant convoy making its way through the Ellezag plains. Certainly one hell of a way to learn your first steps but it set the tone for the rest of my life. It's not easy, being in a Mercenary company. Contrary to the stories, there's no glamour, no fame, hell, you'd be hard pressed to find a woman even in most cases. The people who walk down this road are not the dark smouldering knights or the rough yet gentle brigands of you might find written in the more saucy books of chivalric prose. Every single man, woman, child, whatever you may find, is in some way a deeply broken individual who for one reason or another found that [i]violence[/i] was all they were good for and had no other choice but to [i]sell[/i] that violence to the highest bidder to get by. And it's not like you get payed a lot either. Sure, the initial listing might look good but once you count equipment costs, travel fees, rations, and all sorts of other nasty little things that eat away at the budget the amount of returns you can make from an average stint is pretty small once its all divvied up between the group. Apparently it used to be better during the days of the war. I wouldn't doubt it, especially since it was Garth that was saying it. Garth Martel, a true living legend amongst the Company, and a few others from what I've seen. He's been the leader since way before I was born. A real living fossil in this day and age and yet he's got more meat on his bones than some all of the nobles that've hired us. He's good at what he does, knows his way around the trade and knows how to haggle for what we're worth. And... he's the one who taught me everything I knew. It was strange. I always felt something was... off... about him. Not in a bad way just, that he was different from the rest've us. He still had this [i]look[/i] in eyes. That look you have when there's still something for you to hold onto. There were times when I'd catch him alone, rare times, where I could see him staring all the way off to those wrecks in the Western Rife and he'd whisper underneath his breath when no one else was looking "Surely, there's more out there." And that was one of the tamer bits of strangeness I've experienced from him. Sometimes he left, told us to stay put or pick some easy jobs for ourselves while we were in the city, and he'd just come back with one of the fattest sacks've gold you could imagine and handed it out. We never asked any questions. Why would you? But still, always struck me as odd. And then there were those times where we were camping out in the middle of nowhere during one of our brief moments of quiet and he'd just... look at me, and have this... [i]look[/i] in his eyes. Like he was looking [i]past[/i] me, and seeing someone else. And I'm not even gonna mention all the times he doted on me for no bleedin' reason. Honestly... he's a strange one. But I wouldn't have it any other way. That is, until he up and left. This time for good. Something was different. He normally would've said something, given us a heads up, anything, but no, this time he was gone. Left without a trace and even left the entirety of his share of the pot behind for the rest of us. Not even a goodbye note to go with it. Everyone else, they've moved on. I can't hold it against them. No matter how close we were at the end of the day this was just a job and they still have to work but... I can't do that. My eyes may not be the same as his but- [b]Until I find him, I've got a greater purpose in life than this.[/b] [/center] [h2]Likes:[/h2] [list] [*]Booze [*]Women [*]Gambling [*]Boxing [*]Good Food [*]Gold [*]Animals that don't try to kill him [*]Romance novels (though he'll never admit it) [/list] [h2]Dislikes:[/h2] [list] [*]Nobles [*]Merchants trying to rip him off [*]People who are better at him in gambling [*]Rain of any kind [*]Plain Rations [*]Books that have sad endings [/list] [center] [hr] [img][/img] [hr] [h1]Skills and Abilities:[/h1] [h2]Abilities:[/h2][/center] You must have three abilities and give a short description of each ability. [list] [*]Cleave: The ultimate expression of humanity's kinesthetic potential. Trained from years of repeated swings against hardened battle formations, heavily armored opponents, and all sorts of magical fuckery in between, the Cleave is a simple yet horrifically effective attack. A single swing, full commitment, the entirety of the body's force engaged all once, all to bring down a blow that will tear through even hardened plate if they're foolish enough to try and block it. [*]Born to Ride: Through years of cavalry charges Rock has learned to become one with the mount. Not only does mounted combat allow for him to have much greater maneuverability on any battlefield he pleases but it also allows him to throw greater force into his blows through cavalry charges or even bypass defenses from the height advantage a mount can give. Whilst he is riding, him and the mount are of one mind, one body, and one continuous dynamo of battle. [*]Interception: When you're out on the battlefield for long enough you learn that it's not only important to save your own hide but your buddies too. The art of interception is a simple one. You see someone about to have a sword gored through their chest, you move, you take the hit, ideally in a way that's a bit less deadly than what you saw was about to happen. Maybe you can even block it entirely if you're fast enough or if the enemy is that bad at adapting to the situation. Still, the more people you have with you that are alive the more likely you'll get out alive as well. [/list] What are the drawbacks of those abilities? [list] [*]Cleave: For as impressive and destructive of a swing as it is, it is not without serious consequences. Cleave is an all or nothing move. You need both hands meaning you have to forgo a shield, which as a non-magical individual greatly reduces your defensive potential already, and you have to fully commit to the motion. The kinetic energy of a Cleave is so immense that once it starts there is no course correcting or altering your trajectory. You either hit, or you miss, and if they see it coming and can get out of the way the immediate aftermath makes you a sitting duck for anyone looking to capitalize on your recovery time. When you cleave, you better damn well make sure the person on the other side of it isn't getting back or, up you might be next on the chopping block. [*]Born to Ride: You need a mount. That mount has to be fed. That mount also has to be used to battle so it won't randomly panic in the middle of a fight. That mount also has to get along with him and not try to kick him off whilst he's about to get stabbed out of spite. And people might try to [i]kill[/i] the mount too which is definitely something he can deal with but it doesn't make this any easier. That and if the area they're fighting in can't fit the mount into it then this entire ability is effectively useless. [*]Interception: You are taking someone else [i]out[/i] of danger and putting yourself [i]in[/i] danger. Rock may be built like a rock and may have the armor to take hits a lot of other people can't but his defenses are far from perfect and taking a hit for [i]anyone[/i] is always going to have those risks associated with it. [/list] [center][h2]Skills:[/h2] Three basic skills that your character contributes to the group with a short description. [/center] [list] [*]Athletics: Manual labor is pretty common in the mercenary field. When you're not defending a merchant carriage from bandits you're probably hauling around their stuff instead. Or during long campaigns you'll need to haul equipment, rations, the works, and sometimes even up large stretches of mountain without a single word of complaint. But on the bright side, being a human pack horse also makes you [i]very good[/i] at breaking things and [i]even better[/i] at holding people down so they can't run away with your purse. [*]Intimidation: Kindness is a luxury for the well off. Intimidation is the art of making sure people don't fuck with you, or anyone you're with for that matter. With a large imposing frame and a face that looks like it's seen its fair share of meat grinders knowing how to channel that into a stern look that'll shut up any merchant trying to short change you is a valuable skill. [*]Cooking: Rations can be goddamn bland if you let them. Not many mercenaries learn how to cook but the ones who do are always happier than those who don't. That's not to say he's a professional chef or a master of high-class cuisine but he knows how to take whatever meats and spices you have and turn that into something that'll fill your bellies up nice with a satisfying flavor profile to go with it. They say a good meal is important for a good life and Rock can certainly make that. [/list] [center][hr] [img][/img] [hr] [h1]Extra Information:[/h1] They currently have a war horse named Ash that they've been with for quite some time. It's more than the bond between a man and their pet, to him Ash is practically family and even though he can't communicate with animals in general Ash is the sole exception to this and as such he has saved no expense in equipping Ash with the finest defensive barding he could find to the point where the [i]horse[/i] is actually more well armored than he is. Theme Song: [youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TBUIu55_0Bo[/youtube] [/center] [/hider]