[hider=Flint of Rushhaven]
[b][center][color=C8C8C8]”Before, we scurried, heads held low, dodging and weaving those that would hunt us. Now, thanks to our own knowledge, we stand taller, stronger. Imagine what we could do if we rose above our baser instincts to cower and run?” [/color][/center][/b]

[b]Name:[/b] Flint of Rushhaven

[b]Rank:[/b] Watcher

[b]Appearance: [/b]From tip to tail, flint without clothing would be a rather average mouse. He’s a plain brown colour, perhaps a few streaks of white along his back. His whiskers are shorter than most of his kinsmen, and on his paws, he has very little fur, but there is otherwise nothing particularly distinguishing about him. 

That is, unless he is fully dressed. He wears a steely grey overcoat, with a wide hood with no ear holes. This means that with his hood up, his ears are flattened and poke out over his eyes, which are normally covered by a pair of moleish tunnelling goggles- modified to fit his face. Underneath this, he wears a jerkin, and underneath that a set of alchemist’s robes, slightly altered to allow him to run more easily.
In battle he uses a crossbow, his quiver tucked away inside overcoat, and has a comically large butchering knife for taking parts from prey he hunts to gather his ingredients. Finally, he has a leather satchel that contains chemicals he has gathered on the field, or a new concoction he wishes to try out.

Finally, he has two pairs of gloves that he keeps tucked in a pocket. One is a thick pair, designed to protect his hands in the heat of combat, the other much thinner, and designed to protect his hands when handling dangerous chemicals- made from hardened milksap. 
His mount- a bombardier beetle with a slightly shiny black shell, has a saddle near the head of it. This saddle also includes two large bags that hang down between the creature’s legs. The bags themselves are stuffed with down from various birds and have thin partitions between them, in order to carry reactants.

[b]Personality: [/b]Flint believes that mice are creatures that are inherently capable of great feats, and are only held back by their natural instincts. Because of this, he himself tries to be as much of an exception as he can be. He works in the most modern field of alchemy when he’s not on the battlefield, deliberately hunts down creatures that most mice would try to avoid if they could, such as his bombardier beetle, and constantly toils to make more spoorwall juice in order to expand the area that the kingdoms can expand.

When fighting, you’ll rarely find him at the back of the lines, despite his crossbow. His bombardier’s saddle is designed to allow him to stand both forward and backwards on it whilst still firing, and he has been known to charge his beast in rear-first, using its chemicals in combination with explosives and carefully placed bolts.

The only time he’s ever taken cover was when he encountered an owl, and in that circumstance, nobody really blames him for hitting the deck.

[/hider]