[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/TZodgdl.png[/img][h1]Atzi[/h1] [sub]6'4 | 201 lbs | Human | Female[/sub][/center] [quote]What could she be, but a mountain of a woman? Atzi is a woman brimming with energy, energy that had transformed the gaunt child she once was to the broad-shouldered, sun-kissed lady she is now. Standing at an impressive 6’4 with a body that’s equal parts glamourous and intimidating, Atzi is one of the most physically imposing individuals in Dawn, her right eye glimmering with a brilliant passion while her left is sealed by a leather eyepatch. Blonde hair, rarely brushed, pops outwards in erratic tufts, like a perpetual case of bed hair, and she keeps it shoulder length, habitually chopping it shorter with every change of the seasons. Many scars criss-cross up and down her body, some stretching out from her childhood whilst others emerging from more recent wounds. Her hands too, are stained by the craft she pursues, thick and callused with uneven coloration from mild burns over the course of years and years of work. But does such minor defects matter, when one possesses a bosom and hips as grand as hers? If only Atzi could actually find it in herself to commit to any one person…[/quote] [b]Her Story[/b][indent]How many seasons ago had it been, since a child, her left eye blinded by a burn, escaped the beasts of the forest and fell into the arms of a hunter? She had been ragged then, nothing more but a bundle of skin holding bones within, the rags that served as her clothing worthy only of becoming kindling. It was through kindness that the child lived, raised by the hunters to perform chores that those of the wild were less inclined to do. Tedium gradually helped rehabilitate her, but though rumors circulated, the child herself remained mute. A slave of the Bastelians, having crossed great distances in a wild flight towards freedom? A sacrifice to Iva’Krorh, having suffered esoteric rituals to become an archive of eldritch philosophies? A sinner branded by the Apostles, left excommunicated solely because they wished not to stain their hands with a child’s blood? Stories, whispers, and yet all that Atzi ignored as she grew older and older, becoming more and more comfortable in the body she now inhabited, the freedoms that she now was granted. Dawn was a hard village to live in, and work was plenty for a child without a family, but she took to it with gusto. The fresh air gave her life, and no matter the bite of winter or the roar of great beasts, the cracking of her lips and the burning of her hands, Atzi worked hard, brimming with an energy that did not fade with age. Soon enough, she inherited the knowledge and skills of the resident craftsmen, maintaining her close relationship with the village hunters as she turned their kills into well-sectioned meats and water-shedding leathers. A tomboy at heart, she maintained friendly with all but the most insular and serious of the village members, crafting for herself as a reliable, hardworking, invigorating member of the community who could both hold her own drink as well as take care of the kids. If there was one fault, it would be her lack of patience in book-learning, and even now, reading and writing is what she leaves for those who enjoy pacing around in circles…but out in Dawn, one didn’t need to make records in order to live well. Indeed. Time passed, Atzi grew, and everyone forgot the child that she once was. Everyone but herself. And when night falls, when she cannot sleep as she often does, Atzi burns out the rest of her energy with a wooden club, its edge embedded with arrowheads. [/indent] [b]Goals[/b][indent]It is through creation, not destruction, that one encroaches upon the domain of the divine. Atzi finds solace within her craft, and while she sees her exercise of [i]violence[/i] as an obligation, she sees her work as reason to continue living. She works to expand the capability of her artistry, curious not only about different cultures, but also different materials, different aesthetics. Truly, she is an artisan emboldened, seeking to surprise even the gods themselves. Or perhaps this is simply the well that she immerses herself in, to drown out the consuming flame.[/indent] [b]Skills[/b][indent] [b]Adaptability[/b][indent] [sub]Humans, while they bear no special natural born talents, their limit for growth and power is near infinite should they choose to cultivate said power. They, in their finite lives will find it easier to learn new skills and adapt to new situations if they put their mind to it.[/sub][/indent] [b]Pioneer of the Craft[/b][indent] [sub]Through the transformation of raw hide into pliable, waterproof leather, Atzi finds solace. She is skilled in both vegetable tanning and braining, and, surpassing her old master, has even come up with a special concoction of oils that allows her to tan specific patterns into the hide itself, creating permanent markings upon the leather once it has completed its smoking and drying. Both as fashion and as interior decoration, Atzi’s work has proliferated around Dawn over the last few years.[/sub][/indent] [b]Barbaric Wildness[/b][indent] [sub]Through constant exercise and a steady influx of meat, as well as a vigor that keeps consistently willing to burn herself out, Atzi’s body has developed into a superior specimen of humanity’s physical capabilities, until her strength, speed, and stamina alone could be considered a gift. Without any true masters of the blade to guide her, she has become a self-taught warrior reliant on her physique to power through any obstacles in her way, combining anatomical knowledge gained from butchery and savage aggression gained from her humanity in order to rip and tear as necessary.[/sub][/indent][/indent] [hider=Inventory] Leatherworker’s tools Hunter’s knife Plenty of cordage A fistful of pretty stones A bag of spiced and salted jerky Various tannic oils and concoctions A flat, wooden club, its edge embedded with arrowheads Her winning smile [/hider]