Post by Arthur Crowe on Aug 29, 2015 15:35:49 GMT
Arthur Crowe
Please replace the above picture with a 400x200 image of your character.
Appearance: Arthur stands at six feet, a muscular young man from his training and military. He has tan skin and short black hair. His facial hair was longer but he trimmed it down to basic. He has several scars on his body from training.
History: Arthur Crowe was born in the country land of England. As far back as England went the Crowe family have been hunters. Arthurs father a military man as was his father took their deadly skills to war and back. Arthur from a young age was taught by his father and grandfather in combat first. Starting with knives and moving up to swords. The boy was discovered to have a natural talent with the art.
At ten his teachers began going over how to kill a man. Learning anatomy and where the vital areas were. At eleven he began his lessons of hunting with a rifle by going with his pa and grandpa. He took his first kill, a young buck on his first trip. After that he went daily with his tutors for they survived off of animal hide for money and animal meat for food. This was a daily thing. Sword training and unarmed fighting in the afternoon, hunting in the early mornings and lessons on reading,writing, and studying human antamony in the evenings.
Arthur was eighteen when he enlisted in the military like his dad and granddad. His teachers quickly pegged him out as a fighter. He whipped other students in sword training, could outshoot them with a hand pistol or a rifle. Targets dropped as his speed and accuracy with a rifle was shown again and again. At nineteen he was approached by a Captain Richard Smith. Invited to join the sniper unit. He was informed that he was the youngest recruit to be asked in forty years.
Arthur accepted and a new training began on how to be a sniper. Many aspects were the same with hunting. Pick your shot, patience, lead the target. But he learned wind readings, how to move like a shadow, to kill using stealth when guards patrol a good sniping position. How to survive alone in a city and the wild. Extensive training was given in hand to hand combat and sword play. He became an arbiter of death. His first assignment he was ordered to kill a man who was trying to incite a rebellion. A paranoid man who had several guards and a former sniper.
Arthur was injured when he met the older sniper but it became a game of patience. A bullet in his upper left shoulder but in the head of his enemy. Next was his target. He dug the bullet out of his shoulder, cleaned it with gun powder and stitched it closed. The same day, Arthur put a hole in the mans head. Mission accomplished. Arthur saw a long happy service ahead of him until that day. September 3rd.
Arthur's unit had been picked to squash a local rebellion that wanted more money for their goods. Arthur had been nervous, never killing in cold blood before. It came to a peak when Captain Richard dragged the students out of the local school and lined them against the wall. The first thing he did was shoot a young boy. Then he ordered the people to surrender. Arthur was shocked by the mans ice cold nature. After four deaths and one of those at the end of arthurs pistol the people surrendered. Arthur was given the -spit- honor of beheading the leader. This too he did. They returned hero's..hero a group of men who murdered children were heros.
Arthur fled two days later. Now twenty one years of age he jumped on a ship heading for paris. He had been there a month when the Revolution began anew.
Sample: Arthur sat in the rafters, far back in the room. A table had been pulled to the middle and the young man laid on it. His rifle in hand. Loaded, cocked, aimed. Arthur was looking through the scope, lining up the crosshairs on a young Captain du fey. Though young he was Captain Richard all over again. He had killed a family a block away. A family who had been his friends. Hot rage boiled in his blood but it was kept in a cool hard shell.
Patience, calm, serene. These were the mantra of a sniper. He had the man on horse, his cross hairs lined up on his forehead. A deep breath, the world seem to go quiet, the people moving slower. A squeeze of the trigger and Du Fey fell from his horse dead. Instantly the crowds screamed, his soldiers drawing swords. Arthur pulled his cloak on and swung it around him. Hiding his rifle under it on his back. A bastard sword on his left hip.
Arthur slid out a hole in the back and onto the rooftop. Running with the speed of a Olympic athlete. His lithe body perfect for movement. He leaped from rooftop to rooftop. After a mile he came to a stop. It was peaceful here. His body suddenly rolled forward. A instinct of his training. Coming up sword drawn he turned. Their, an older soldier who had seen him running on the rooftop. The man was holding a rapier. Arthur had seen those weapons. Thrusts only and while fast were easily predicted.
Arthur readied his own blade. Just as he predicted the man stepped in with a thrust. Arthur didn't have time to play. Stepping to the side he disarmed the man at the elbow. Before he could scream, Arthurs blade flashed around and removed his head. Cleaning his blade he sheathed it. Moving down into the crowd with grace and vanished into the city of Paris.
Group: None as of yet.
Your Alias:Assassin of Paris
Age:21
Gender: Male
Time Zone:
Appearance: Arthur stands at six feet, a muscular young man from his training and military. He has tan skin and short black hair. His facial hair was longer but he trimmed it down to basic. He has several scars on his body from training.
History: Arthur Crowe was born in the country land of England. As far back as England went the Crowe family have been hunters. Arthurs father a military man as was his father took their deadly skills to war and back. Arthur from a young age was taught by his father and grandfather in combat first. Starting with knives and moving up to swords. The boy was discovered to have a natural talent with the art.
At ten his teachers began going over how to kill a man. Learning anatomy and where the vital areas were. At eleven he began his lessons of hunting with a rifle by going with his pa and grandpa. He took his first kill, a young buck on his first trip. After that he went daily with his tutors for they survived off of animal hide for money and animal meat for food. This was a daily thing. Sword training and unarmed fighting in the afternoon, hunting in the early mornings and lessons on reading,writing, and studying human antamony in the evenings.
Arthur was eighteen when he enlisted in the military like his dad and granddad. His teachers quickly pegged him out as a fighter. He whipped other students in sword training, could outshoot them with a hand pistol or a rifle. Targets dropped as his speed and accuracy with a rifle was shown again and again. At nineteen he was approached by a Captain Richard Smith. Invited to join the sniper unit. He was informed that he was the youngest recruit to be asked in forty years.
Arthur accepted and a new training began on how to be a sniper. Many aspects were the same with hunting. Pick your shot, patience, lead the target. But he learned wind readings, how to move like a shadow, to kill using stealth when guards patrol a good sniping position. How to survive alone in a city and the wild. Extensive training was given in hand to hand combat and sword play. He became an arbiter of death. His first assignment he was ordered to kill a man who was trying to incite a rebellion. A paranoid man who had several guards and a former sniper.
Arthur was injured when he met the older sniper but it became a game of patience. A bullet in his upper left shoulder but in the head of his enemy. Next was his target. He dug the bullet out of his shoulder, cleaned it with gun powder and stitched it closed. The same day, Arthur put a hole in the mans head. Mission accomplished. Arthur saw a long happy service ahead of him until that day. September 3rd.
Arthur's unit had been picked to squash a local rebellion that wanted more money for their goods. Arthur had been nervous, never killing in cold blood before. It came to a peak when Captain Richard dragged the students out of the local school and lined them against the wall. The first thing he did was shoot a young boy. Then he ordered the people to surrender. Arthur was shocked by the mans ice cold nature. After four deaths and one of those at the end of arthurs pistol the people surrendered. Arthur was given the -spit- honor of beheading the leader. This too he did. They returned hero's..hero a group of men who murdered children were heros.
Arthur fled two days later. Now twenty one years of age he jumped on a ship heading for paris. He had been there a month when the Revolution began anew.
Sample: Arthur sat in the rafters, far back in the room. A table had been pulled to the middle and the young man laid on it. His rifle in hand. Loaded, cocked, aimed. Arthur was looking through the scope, lining up the crosshairs on a young Captain du fey. Though young he was Captain Richard all over again. He had killed a family a block away. A family who had been his friends. Hot rage boiled in his blood but it was kept in a cool hard shell.
Patience, calm, serene. These were the mantra of a sniper. He had the man on horse, his cross hairs lined up on his forehead. A deep breath, the world seem to go quiet, the people moving slower. A squeeze of the trigger and Du Fey fell from his horse dead. Instantly the crowds screamed, his soldiers drawing swords. Arthur pulled his cloak on and swung it around him. Hiding his rifle under it on his back. A bastard sword on his left hip.
Arthur slid out a hole in the back and onto the rooftop. Running with the speed of a Olympic athlete. His lithe body perfect for movement. He leaped from rooftop to rooftop. After a mile he came to a stop. It was peaceful here. His body suddenly rolled forward. A instinct of his training. Coming up sword drawn he turned. Their, an older soldier who had seen him running on the rooftop. The man was holding a rapier. Arthur had seen those weapons. Thrusts only and while fast were easily predicted.
Arthur readied his own blade. Just as he predicted the man stepped in with a thrust. Arthur didn't have time to play. Stepping to the side he disarmed the man at the elbow. Before he could scream, Arthurs blade flashed around and removed his head. Cleaning his blade he sheathed it. Moving down into the crowd with grace and vanished into the city of Paris.
Group: None as of yet.
Your Alias:Assassin of Paris
Age:21
Gender: Male
Time Zone: