Hello all, here's my entry, trying to spice things up a tad.
[hider=Drake Tylinaeus CS]
Name: Drake Tylinaeus
Age: 28
Race: Half-breed (Half Ifrit/Half Human)
Gender: Male
Appearance: Standing a full six and a half feet above the ground and weighing just under two-hundred and eighty pounds, Drake casts an imposing and muscular shadow across the land. His short dark brown hair is barely long enough to cover two circular birthmarks on the top of his head, what would've been horns, before tapering down to varying hues of orange and red around his ears and across the back of his neck, and even in the tips of the hairs that fall across his forehead. He keeps it well trimmed, and if not pushed to the side so his eyebrows aren't concealed as they rest above his piercing grey eyes that sometimes reflect different hues. As an half-blood, Drake lacks the more overt Ifriti traits, such as wings, horns, claws and a body of flame, though his physique is tinted bronze and he has sharper than typical canine teeth. He dresses plain, as you’d expect of any wanderer and is very often dirty. He favors a red, hooded cloak, a pair of black boots, pocketed pants that fit slightly loose, and a sleeveless shirt. 

Personality: Drake embodies reservation. He is hesitant to trust others and generally treats open, giving people as tools that he can use to achieve his ends. This is a response to his naturally cunning Ifriti nature, though he is constantly faced with bouts of humanity where he questions his decisions in using others, but he often reaffirms them as being necessary to reach his goals of finding a place of his own and establishing himself. He has stores of ambition, much of which goes untapped or wasted on some of his more mischievous ventures. He typically has a sarcastic tone when dealing with others and often demeans those he deems to be not as clever as himself. 

History: Born as the half-blood bastard of a deceptive Ifriti and a gullible but earnest maiden, Drake spent his childhood in condemnation, garnering the fear and loathing of his peers in a small village in the Folgoth nation where despotism runs rampant and seems to draw the very life from its people. Born into a world of poverty and hatred, Drake grew jaded to the very thought of the luxurious lives he knew others lived, and as a child he especially hated the floating ‘utopia,’ of Nesia. At the age of nine Drake seemed to blossom when some of his Ifriti heritage became more apparent in his teeth and hair, and this was when he was no longer looked down upon simply as a bastard, but feared as the child of a demon that was said to roam the hills deceiving travelers to walk straight to their doom, and now, quite evidently, seducing women. 

Torches lit the night sky around the Tylinaeus cottage, a small home that was built by Drake’s maternal grandparents and left to his mother, their eldest of three girls, upon their death at the hands of a strange illness. The fires burned with anger, and racism against the young half-breed, but only to hide their true fear. This was a scene Drake Tylinaeus would never forget, as the night he ran, and as the night his mother died while he was paralyzed by inability, held captive to powerlessness. After fleeing his home he wandered the wilds for several weeks, living off wild plants and whatever was available. Eventually his body started to shut down from lack of nourishment and he collapsed, blacking out. 

He woke up days later on a small farm under the care of gruff old man named Jorn who found the boy while hunting. Over the next few years the boy was taught to be self sufficient and fight for what’s his, though as he grew older he found that he had a natural aptitude for using deception to reach his goals, and through many scrapes with much larger animals, discovered his unnatural strength and resistance to harm. After spending several years with Jorn, learning the ins and outs of the fur trade, hunting, fighting skills, finally he could no longer sit still with regard to not knowing who he really was, and at the age of 17 set out on a walkabout of sorts to hopefully find his father. 

This was just over ten years ago now, and in his travels he found a much more lucrative business than the fur trade: the flesh trade. He dabbled in the sale of slaves for a small time, but found that even with his demi-demonic roots his humanity was sickened to its core by it, and abandoned the slave trade to be a ‘sell-sword,’ a fighter for hire, though he preferred bounty hunter as his title. It resonated with both parts of him, his human desire for justice, and his demonic love of deception. Though he’s found himself detoured and stalled in Nisea, Drake still holds on to his goals he set so long ago. 

Occupation: Bounty hunter/wanderer
Equipment: 
[*]Hooded cloak (red)[/*]
[*]Backpack containing miscellany related to traveling and bounty hunting (maps, charts, wanted posters, contracts, money, utility knife, etc.)[/*]
[*]Onyx - black-bladed longsword of high quality (and sheath) [/*]
[*]Shard - a steel shortsword of medium-high quality (and sheath)[/*]
[*]Low quality hunting bow and quiver of 20 arrows[/*]

Abilities:
[*]Tough skin - Ifriti-related partial-resistance to physical weapons, weakens him to magic[/*]
[*]Great strength - slightly stronger than the average human[/*]
[*]Silver tongue - more persuasive to those of lesser intelligence[/*]

Moral Standing: Neutral
Likes: Money, deceit, mindless pawns, intellectual conversation, hard liquor, meat and the occasional challenge.
Dislikes: Morons, Condemnation, vegetables, beer/ale. 
Fears: Failure, snakes, drowning
[/hider]