[hider=Attor][center][quote=Attor Snakeslayer, to his last apprentice][color=a36209]"The Watch is old. It's fadin', son, and maybe...maybe we should let it."[/color][/quote][/center]

[b][color=a36209]Name:[/color][/b] 
Attor Snakeslayer

[b][color=a36209]Rank:[/color][/b] 
Watcher

[b][color=a36209]Appearance:[/color][/b] 
Mice have many enemies. Their foes come in any number of shapes and sizes. Great and small, from the tiniest shrew upstart to the vicious serpent monsters that tower above them, Mice have many enemies indeed. The greatest of these, though, is one often forgotten. Young mice in particular worry more about rats, weasels and lizards; they don't remember that foe of foes until their whiskers are long and their paws are wrinkled. Only in the final whispers of their years do Mice tend to turn their eye on the enemy that takes more Mice than all the rest.

That enemy, of course, is time.

And Attor knows it well.

Time's claws have worn him down. They have scratched, cut and bitten until that once proud soul is little more than a shadow of his former self, though the mouse would never admit it. His ugly coat, once black as midnight, now lies across his back matted, discolored and dirty. Eyes of unbreakable steel that once stared death in the face with unblinking courage have dulled and quieted, like the edge of an overused blade. 

That was what Attor was, in truth: an old sword that'd seen one too many battles.

His right ear is torn; chipped like the brittle edge of a rusted dagger. His whiskers are long and droopy, nearly brushing against the ground when Attor goes to sit. 

The marks of war and violence are prevalent across him, to the point where one would be hard-pressed to mark Attor as anything but an old soldier. Scars adorn most of his coat and body, from cuts to poorly healed burns and everything in-between. The worst of these injuries is a long, gnarly tear across his right forearm. A rat's blade tasted deep in his flesh many a moon ago, and Attor has had trouble opening that paw ever since. He was forced to relearn how to use both quill and sword with his left arm, though it's hard to tell he's not a natural lefty given how long ago that was.

Even the Snakeslayer's cloak has not aged well. Once bright like polished bronze, his mentor had remarked that Attor was more weasel than mouse, such was his slipperiness and savagery. Both of those traits have been worn down to the nub, much like the coloring of his cloak. Old bones don't dip and dive as they used to, and Attor finds little satisfaction in bloodshed anymore. His cloak is torn and discolored, covered in rough, self-made patches to keep it from falling apart. He's in dire need of a replacement, though the mouse would rather die than replace the last thing his master ever gave him.

[b][color=a36209]Personality:[/color][/b] 
Attor Snakeslayer is the best storyteller in all the Kingdoms of Gnaw. Or so he would have you believe. He's had a fondness for stories since he was but a mere boy, sparked first by the tales his father would read to him before bed. Even as he grew older, stronger and wiser, Attor never lost that love, though there were fewer and fewer stories that he hadn't heard before.

So he decided to make his own.

It was easiest to find stories among the Redwatch. They were something of a living legend to Attor. And in their midst he decided to craft his [i]own[/i] legend. He wasn't very good at it in the beginning, as all orators, writers and would-be tale-weavers can attest to. But he sharpened his verse and widened his expressions through the years, crafting newer and better tales as he went out and lived them for himself. That was how he came by his title: Snakeslayer. It was a story he'd gotten quite good at telling. Attor always attested to it's truth, though many called him a liar for it. They tried to mock him with that name, but Attor wore it with pride.

As time had helped him develop the art of speaking, so too it had worn down Attor's luster. For every tale he brought back of a vicious battle against the rats, or of a personal squabbled settled on the edge of a dagger, Attor's shoulders grew a little heavier. His smile a little slighter. The change was far from instant. Many hadn't noticed anything wrong with the mouse, even as his tales grew more grim, and his demeanor more somber. At some point, Attor forgot to keep telling of heroes, victory and bombastic adventure. He forgot the stories he'd fallen in love with as a youth.

He forgot himself.

At times, usually when Attor's quite drunk, he'll lament the passing of time. He'll lament the passing of the age of heroes, yearning for a return to a simpler era. An era where the Watch made sense- when the world made sense. A time when he would march into a village and be cheered for the band he wore upon his arm instead of shied away from, like he was a leper or a cutthroat. A time when Attor felt like a hero.

But he understands that the world doesn't work that way. He's resigned himself to the cold, unbending truth that the world no longer wants the Redwatch. Westercroft thinks itself above their help, and Glendale claims not to need it. The only place Attor feels at home is in Redfield- where he's more than content to make his final bed.


Attor Snakeslayer's [b]Attributes:[/b][hr][b]STR:[/b] 12 - [sub] The brawn of his youth hasn't diminished quite as quickly as his speed[/sub]
[b]CON:[/b] 14 - [sub] Thirty years in the Watch has left Attor with plenty of scars. His mettle is well-tested[/sub]
[b]DEX:[/b] 6 - [sub] His joints only work half the time; he's learned to make good use of the other half[/sub]
[b]CHA:[/b] 12 - [sub] Attor has always been a friendly soul, and his love of story and song (almost) never steers him wrong[/sub]
[b]INT:[/b] 12 - [sub] One of the few things he has more of now than he did in his youth is wisdom[/sub]
[b]LUC:[/b] 6 - [sub] Many of Attor's close calls in the line of duty can be attributed to luck, but his black fur undercuts that idea[/sub]
[b]REP:[/b] 3 - [sub] Talking plainly of the Watch's fate has destroyed much of the good-will he built up over the years[/sub]
[hr]
[b]Equipment:[/b][hr] [b]Longsword:[/b] Once a finely crafted blade worthy of any Watchmouse, Attor's sword has seen better days. One too many struggles has left it ragged and old, with several chunks cut into the crossguard and hilt. Thankfully the blade itself remains whole, though Attor fears it's nearing it's breaking point. Named Ratfang for the many rodents it has cut down over the years. Two points.

[b]Dagger:[/b] A seventh inch blade with a conservative crossguard and leather-bound hilt, Attor's dagger is his newest piece of equipment. Begrudgingly made the replacement of his old sidearm after it snapped off in a weasel's thick coat, his new knife comes practically straight from the forges. It's yet to earn a name, or truly have it's mettle tested, but the smith assured Attor of it's quality. Three points.

[b]Traits:[/b][hr] [b]+Encyclopedia of War:[/b] Attor's been fighting longer than many Watchmice have been alive. He's seen every battlefield a mouse could imagine, and fought every creature that preys on the Gnawer kingdoms. He knows where to best strike a snake, how to lead a Rat mob into a proper ambush, and the effective range of Weasel javelins. Knowing is half the battle, after all, and Attor's had decades to learn the ins and out of conflict.

[b]+Old Mouse in a Young Mouse's Game:[/b] Another facet of his experience, though with a far more focused application. Many a younger, faster and stronger mouse has fallen while Attor remains. He has outlived a great many of his peers, and this fact cannot be readily ignored. Though he grows older, slower and weaker by the day, the Snakeslayer continues to rise to the challenge through one, critical factor: raw, untempered skill at arms. He's crossed blades with a hundred foes, receiving and delivering his fair share of licks through the years. Each fight he managed to walk (or crawl, as the case may be) away from was another notch on his blade. Another battle to learn from. Attor can cross swords and hold his own against anyone in the Redwatch.

[b]-Arthritis is a Bitch:[/b] These bones have seen better days, that's for damn sure. Spending decades on the move has been hell on Attor's body, and he's slowly but surely losing more of his edge. Joint inflammation is common, especially after a particularly taxing march or fight. He lacks any real semblance of stamina, and is prone to tiring out long before an ordinary mouse would. A fight not won in thirty seconds is a fight lost for the legendary warrior.

[b]-Traitor:[/b] A word with the power to send Attor to the hangman if it catches enough traction. His...less-than-popular political opinions have earned the mouse a great deal of ire from the Redwatch's more outspoken and zealous proponents. There are several important people that would see Attor either dismissed, silenced or- more extremely- [i]hanged[/i] for his beliefs. His talk of disbanding the Watch threatens the very fabric of the organization, and such a divisive opinion has earned him a great deal of ire. Attor's just lucky that the label hasn't caught on quite yet, though he's painfully aware of the fact that his reputation hangs by a thread.

[b]Trade:[/b][hr] [b]Entertainer:[/b] An odd occupation that his parents were vocally opposed to, but ultimately what Attor was most passionate about. He was a travelling orator, writer and professional windbag. Most of what Attor did amounted to reading other, more famous mice's books to children- he would occupy their attention for hours at the behest of their parents, keeping them out of trouble for a handful of coins. Occasionally he'd get the opportunity to upgrade his audience from children to drunken adults at a tavern; that earned him more, but it turned out that drunkards had trouble following basic story structure, so most of what Attor did was tell easy, dumb jokes for a few hours.

[b]Friend:[/b][hr] [b]Beorn of Riverfield:[/b] A Watcher posted along the Westercroft border, and a dear friend. Attor and Beorn fought side by side against a rat incursion, bogged down in hostile territory for nine months straight. Without a supply line of any kind and scarce food, their unit was forced through the metaphorical ringer. Everyone got close. Not everyone made it out. By the time the rats were pushed back and their team reconnected with civilization, Attor and Beorn had developed an unbreakable bond. They continue to share sporadic letters to one another, and have spoken often of retiring to Glendale someday to spend their last days doing nothing but fishing for waterbugs.

[b]Enemy:[/b][hr] [b]Audrey of Mappleton:[/b] An aging Watcher that's seen nearly as much violence and bloodshed as Attor himself, Audrey was once a mouse that he could've called a friend. They were never extraordinarily close, but she was someone he had served with on several occasions, and a warrior that Attor believed he could count on in a tough spot. That had changed. Somewhere along the line, when the Snakeslayer's loyalties shifted, he found himself at odds with Audrey. She had always been a staunch supporter of the Redwatch, and her loyalty to the cause had seemingly only strengthened with time. The world needed the Watch more than ever now, she'd say; hearing Attor bemoan what they had become, and speak of disbanding the order she so loved, made Audrey's blood boil. She was one of the mice pushing to put Attor into an [i]early retirement[/i]. Attor is well aware of her ire, and makes damn well sure to steer clear of her.

[b]History:[/b][hr] Born in a tiny Redfield hamlet in the middle of nowhere, Attor felt trapped. His father had drilled into the young mouse's mind ideals of heroism and tales of grand adventure. With an imagination captured by stories, Attor set out from his village as soon as he was able. With book and song in hand he traveled throughout Redfield, honing his craft. It wasn't until he had encountered a mouse of the Watch that he aspired to join their ranks.

He hadn't proven to be a natural soldier, but Attor [i]was[/i] a quick learner and a savage fighter. He was mentored by Vaegir of Fenhold, passing the Greenband trials by the skin of his teeth. Through Vaegir's guidance, Attor went on to serve the Redwatch faithfully for nearly thirty years. He fought every sort of enemy the Gnawers faced: weasel and rat, squirrel and rebel- Attor was even the lone survivor of a vicious battle with a Snake- earning himself a lifelong surname spoken with scorn and awe in equal measure.
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