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Name: Myaenthar'Sul | Age: 26 | Race: Kobold (Human + Goblin) 

A P P E R A N C E :
As a Kobold --and thus, the Goblin-kin equivalent of a Halfling-- Sul stands at a height of six heads, or roughly four feet by the human standard. He is of the usual grey hue possessed by most Kobolds (with rarities being born a parched white, though these subjects do not often survive much past birth and are naturally weaker), with black hair displayed in abundance throughout his short, rough-cut hair, side-burns and goatee. He is of an average muscular build for a Kobold, which, while lesser compared to the likes of Dwarves and their subsequently taller counterparts, is still capable enough to be made proper use of in times of hardship and conflict. Sharp, protruding "dag-teeth" poke outward from beneath his thin upper-lip in an overbite common to all of his kind, accentuated only further by the strength of his cheek-bones and chin. Sunken, beady eyes greet the world with steeled suspicion under the shade of their angular brow, with full eyebrows further expressing this sentiment...and acute ears perking skyward of the elongated skull they perch themselves upon, always open to the slightest confirmation of their paranoia.

M I N D :
Sul, like many of his kind, is pragmatic, erratic, skittish, craven and notoriously preposterous when under the influence of stress and paranoia...arguably posing the most threat to his allies --rather than his enemies-- when frightened. He is neither the weakest nor the strongest of mind, and thus as prone to foreign manipulation as any other commoner (little about the Kobold has ever been found noteworthy, even among their own "Great Musing Ones"). Like many of his kin, he is wary about naming a human god amongst their pantheon -- especially so, given that Kobold society worships principles rather than figureheads, and is in that way closer still to the Goblin spectrum of their lineage; Fortune, Luck, Wit, Strength and Cunning rule in place of beasts or seasons, reflecting their inherent distaste for most things natural and elemental. For that reason, Sul is in line once more with his battle-brothers, seeing Tarkus as the ultimate incarnation of the raw natural state...though they dare not speak out against their superiors. Such is another aspect of Kobolds, and subsequently Sul -- loyalty to the self and those affiliated with it is paramount, even at times causing him to force himself though situations he would otherwise CERTAINLY avoid. In short, Sul is a born Kobold, or in other words, an odd little rat wishing only to live in contentment -- with this in itself consisting of good fortune, a fufilled history, and the odd scrap through misfortune. As the adage goes: "Strength builds Kobold, Misfortune builds Strength!"

H I S T O R Y:
As with many of his kind, Sul was born to a series of contradicting elements. He was lucky enough to be an only child in a Name of poverty, but was always envious of those who had been born to siblings -- the lack of a proper enough figure-head in his Name-hold being the most prominent cause of this spite. Though he was born under a lucky star, he never strode to be much more than he already was. He never excelled in a fight, nor was he particularly good at working in a unit -- and yet besides this, he still enlisted to seek his fortune abroad in the form of divided spoils, hard-fought for with the blood of many a soldier. Perhaps his greatest stroke of luck was being born on the winning side, and thus spared of the treatment inflicted upon so many by the Anthem; Or, perhaps, his greatest stroke is yet to come...only the leaves of history may tell.

M O D U S  O P R E R A N D I:
Compared to the strength, reach, mechanisms and arcane power provided by the various other murderers of both the Legion and the Anthem, one would at first think the Kobold --and those lesser of them in combat-- to be a poor choice for a warrior, especially when placed on the front-lines. It appears that years of thought and experimentation proved self-awareness by the Kobolds in this respect, and they have thus honed their technique down to two categories: Sûwar & Tîrevan -- or, "Rider & Archer" in the wizened tongue of the elders of this race. Sul is of the latter, equipped with a crossbow, bronze long-knife with an obsidian edge, wood&bronze conical-shield (with a small bolt-sized hole in its tip), light armor, two metal canisters attached to his back (with a wrapped-up blanket containing travel-supplies just below this), and a decent knowledge of alchemy...though this last tool is, perhaps, rendered inadequate by the fresh terrain his auxiliary unit found themselves upon. Within both canisters are a host of the Kobolds' finest invention, a chemically-designed crossbow-bolt that explodes with concussive force *upon impact* -- one such bolt need not *penetrate* its target to achieve maximum damage potential. And though the conical-shield may find purpose in most any scenario, including during orders to loose, the obsidian-edged long-knife is purely secondary, with its feather-fine edge providing an almost unfair ease to thrusts, cuts and slashes against un-armoured sections of its victims...a handy advantage for those of lesser strength. Chiefly, the Tîrevan tactic is to advance under cover of stronger soldiers as well as their own shields, loose a volley or two to suppress and severely weaken the front lines of an enemy (or to discourage sudden charges -- be they by foot or hoof) before retreating with the speed granted to them by their fairly light load-outs. A Kobold 'retreat' never fully becomes one until the battle is entirely lost, however -- instead, they've the capacity to regroup and return again and again and again...perhaps motivated by the thought of being the first to reach potential plunder, or just of the consequences of being the first to leave the battlefield amongst behemoth-sized allies.

To a lesser extent, it should be noted that, while perhaps dishonorable, Kobold routings can be seen as a genuine litmus test for the strength of an enemy; Those willing --or indeed, capable-- of enduring the punishment rendered by the skittish creatures' volleys are never to be underestimated.

O P I N I O N S  O N  O T H E R S
("TRUE art is a...[WIP]." This section will continue to be updated as time progresses, --possibly-- more characters arrive and luck begins to change for Sul.)

Arthur Wick: Having nearly impaled himself on the end of the human's spear, Sul isn't exactly fond of Wick. However, the man's loyalty to the legion was nonetheless to be held in high regard, and it is for this reason in particular that the Kobold tolerates having to work alongside him. Near anything for the sake of survival, yes?

Reika: This man wasn't a man at all; Rather, he seemed the distant kin to Orcish kind. Big, Mean and always pushing smaller lots around like sacks of moldy potatoes -- no more words for him!

Magatha "Mags" Toil: She looked like a ram, and Sul happened to like rams. Rams were cuddly and warm, with strong horns to hide behind and a keen survival instinct; Additionally (like many things Kobolds came across) they could be ridden -- how could she possibly get any better? Admittedly, however, he'd yet to see much of her presence...if at all, come to think of it. Perhaps she'd been one of the many shunned of Fortune's gifts during Aveless-Fall...

Aeudla Vesnat: An elf of odd complexion (though to be fair, few elves differed from that distinction), Sul hadn't *initially* ever had to come in contact with her. And yet, his first experience within her presence seemed to chill the very blood within his veins; It was as if she somehow...knew him. Terrifying to say the least, and a sure-fire way to soak his pants in panic...he'd try his best to avoid that one at all costs.

Saa...Sag...Sag-Hadir: Another hulking man with armor to match, Sul has become especially fed-up with the warrior's obnoxiously pompous behavior. Were it not for the scintillating coins he offered, Sul would most assuredly NOT be employed as the occasional greave-polisher. Kobolds are better than such derogatory stereotypes.

Andrea Albane: The presence of this woman confuses Sul; On the one hand, she was the perfect counter to the natural world; On the other, she was also the second being capable of freezing him in place just by walking past. For his part, the Kobold was beginning to wonder if he should stay away from females...perhaps the ram-fur fantasies weren't worth it after all ...-- at least, not when compared to the possibility of being impaled and dumped in some unseen ravine, late into the hours of the night. It was nice that she seemed to be absent from view, as of late.

Verse: This one smelled funny, like a bitch in perpetual heat. Sul had wondered if she indeed *was* a dog...but no, no, that couldn't be right -- dogs had four legs, this one had two. Did knees count as paws? If so...-- ahh, but that was all beside the point. The point was, she smelled...*off*...no, *DANGEROUS*, like a spider waiting to trap its mate after breeding (yet another reason to dislike nature -- who in their right mind would find that attractive? Arachnids must've been the biggest masochists). He seemed to be coming in contact with a lot of strange humans lately...and to be honest, it was starting to make Sul feel a bit queasy.

...He missed the relative safety of his auxiliary regiment; Back with the good lads, all you had to worry about was the odd case of "A pushed B into the bonfire"...but who *hadn't* dealt with that in the *Legion*?

Marcus Vantiri: What a strangely common creature, this one was. Friendly, down-to-earth -- might Sul dare say..."rational"? A true brother, and perhaps the only one Sul had amongst humans so far. Might want to pass on his cooking, however...humans had odd tastes in delicacies. Who called "boiled cabbage" --or for that matter, any vegetable-substance-- 'food'?

Tristanya Aurelain: If the women among this platoon kept it up, Sul might be justified in predicting a cold winter on the horizon. Not in relation to their characters, no...they just froze the air with their very presence. Plenty of talent for making snow-men out of anyone associated with them though, he'd given 'em that much -- a glass half-full!

@Iuniper Quick Note: "120+ Lbs. Bows?

Although I do not know of any recurve bows with this kind of draw weight and which would be available for sale nowadays, I thought it would be interesting to mention that, historically, this kind of draw weight was very often used – particularly in the English longbow which was extremely popular during the middle-ages.

In fact, the English Longbow had to be a minimum of 110 lbs. to be deemed suitable for combat, and the strongest Archers would even carry 130+ lbs. bows. You can imagine just how much effort these took to shoot, but also how devastating they must have been. History teaches us that these bows were well capable of deeply piercing a human being from as far as 235 yards!"

From >>> bestrecurvebowguide.com/capabilities-o..

The above was just something I needed to back up this next statement, since I'm only partially interested in bows, and therefore didn't know *too much* about them myself. Still, I'll take the risk to say that Aeudla is going to need a more powerful bow, or a crossbow, since she won't be able to penetrate much beside light-armor with the current bow she's using. That's why crossbows were invented -- since they could get pretty damned close to the power of a long-bow, they could penetrate *most* armor (the best-quality plate-armor reserved for wealthy warriors would always do its job...although concussive force could hamper and wear them down over time, given exposure to enough bolts/arrows) in the hands of your average man, woman, or even teenager/child in some cases. Hope this helps!

What made you go for a sixty-five pound bow though, if I might ask?

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