Name: Team: Age: Gender: Species: Aura:
Ishmael Felgrand 19 Male Human Gold/Blue


Mental # Physical # Social #
Intelligence 2 Strength 4 Presence 1
Wits 3 Dexterity 2 Manipulation 2
Resolve 2 Stamina 4 Composure 3


Mental -3 Physical -1 Social -1
Academics 0 Athletics 2 Empathy 0
Computer 0 Brawl 2 Expression 0
Craft 2 Drive 0 Intimidation 0
Grimm 0 Melee Weapons 5 Persuasion 3
Science 0 Larceny 1 Socialize 0
Medicine 0 Ranged Weapons 1 Streetwise 2
Politics 0 Stealth 0 Subterfuge 2
Dust 0 Investigation 0
Survival 2


Merits # Flaws # Aura/Weapons #
Armor: Archaic 3 Self Centered 1 Aura 3
Large Weapons 3 Overconfident 1 Semblance 2
Custom Armor: Defense 1 Compulsion: Stealing 1 Weapon 3


Health Aura Pool Armor Passive Defense Speed Initiative Perception
13 10 6 / 5 2 10 5 6


Name Value Notes
Brawl 6
Ranged 6
Thrown 7
Melee 12
Aura Strike 15 2 AP
All Out Aura Strike 17 No Defense 2 AP


Eye of the Storm – Full Round (5 AP)

*Ishmael holds a hand into the air and calls upon the sky to aid him, creating an area in which only one will be able to walk away from. A hurricane of rushing wind, rain, and lightning made of streaks of gold and a deep navy blue reaches out and tears apart everything around it. The high-speed winds of navy aura change the paths of projectiles shot at it and the golden streaks of lighting prevent anyone from passing through without harm. The storm’s small eye is calm, all except for the raging individual inside. Ishmael himself radiates energy inside of the eye, streaks of gold and blue lightning emanating from his eyes, arms, and torso for the semblance’s entire duration. A golden marking of a single eye with a sharp pupil, like that on a Sea Feilong’s mask, appears on his forehead and marks him as the storm’s master. *

Effect: Ishmael creates a small whipping hurricane with the eye being a [Composure] yard diameter around him, lasting [Composure] rounds. The storm’s whipping winds create a barrier around Ishamel and the eye. He gains a melee attack bonus of [Composure /2] only while inside the eye. If anyone, including Ishmael, attempts to pass through the storm they must perform a strength check higher than [Composure]. If this check is failed while trying to enter or exit the eye, the check may not be attempted again. All ranged attack rolls that must pass through the storm take a [Semblance] penalty. The storm immediately dissipates if Ishmael’s aura defense is reduced to 0, if he is knocked unconscious, or he leaves the eye himself.

Physical Description

Ishmael sits at an average height of 5’10” and a fairly stocky build with a skin complexion on the pale side. He has a well-toned back, chest, and arms which come from swinging around his greatsword, with the rest of his body being in good shape but is obviously neglected from time to time. He has dirty blonde hair with most of it being on the brownish side with golden blonde streaks that seemingly run through it at random. He has sharp ocean blue eyes. His hair is quite long and rests at his upper back, usually running over both sides of his shoulders. The hair itself is thick and mane like as it connects with a very short golden colored beard that runs the length of his chin and connects to an equally short mustache that doesn’t run past the corners of his mouth. The hair is cared for, but the nature of the long hair tends to tangle easily, creating a ragged and windswept look to most of it. He has a long tattoo of a Sea Feilong that starts at his right pectoral and twists around his arm, stopping at his wrist with an open mouth as if it were attempting to devour his hand. The entire tattoo is colored with a vibrant hue of blues, golds, and black that bring the creature to life. Unlike its real-life counterpart, the serpent is colored gold instead of black, and has blue accents instead of red. The beast is surrounded by a myriad of streaking blue and gold colors that run around its body making it look as if it had just breached out of the sea. Small scars from small cuts are sparsely spotted around his chest, back, and arms that are obviously from the light amount of fighting he saw in his younger days. He has a strong jawline and a rugged look to his face thanks to his sharp eyes and short beard with it usually being accompanied by a relaxed grin.

His clothing represents that of an urban deviant, making it seem like a stark contrast to his actual personality. He has a thin black leather jacket with a navy blue short-sleeve V-neck under it that reveals a bit of toned chest. The jacket is quite expensive, ends just past the belt, has a white fur interior, and is usually kept unzipped. The jacket has a large golden anchor on the back with the same Sea Feilong from his tattoo curled around it. In large writing of blue and white is written “Rogue Wave” in sharp letters meant to look like torrents of water. He also wears a pair of scuffed up black jeans with a couple of rips and tears across the pants legs. A white cloth belt forms an X and crosses over itself while resting on his hips with a golden rectangle for a belt buckle. On the belt is a mask that he usually wears in combat. The mask consists of two flat black plates of thin metal that form a vertical wedge at the center of the face, on the wedge is a blue serpent’s eye like the one on his scabbard and sword. The mask has two gold horns that curve around the side of the head and are wide enough to fit just around his hip when attached to the belt. It also contains thin paneling that covers his forehead and a little bit of the top of his head. The mask has a technical interface that allows him to look through the eye on the mask, resulting in no need for eye slits in the mask itself and helping keep his face covered during the high-speed winds of his semblance. He wears a pair of black vans with brown soles and white laces to accompany the jeans. On his left hand is a nice silver and black watch that oddly has someone else’s name etched into the bottom of the face and is accompanied by two silver rings that sit on his ring and middle fingers. He also wears a black leather necklace with a small gold anchor pendant that sits at the center of his chest. To round it all out is an expensive set of headphones that usually sit around his neck with a black carbon-fiber chord that snakes itself down into his pocket and into his scroll.

A large black nylon sash with a thin metal rail in its center runs from his shoulder to his hip and connects to a belt of the same build. This rail attaches to a flat metal knob on a large scabbard that holds his greatsword up against his lower back. The scabbard itself is fine black leather with a metal border and metal Sea Feilong’s eye etched into the entrance of the wide scabbard. The rail and knob locks into place at specific points and allows for the wielder to move the scabbard and sword from their back to their side or vice versa, allowing for the hefty sword to be easily drawn and sheathed. This translates over to his armor as well, which is accompanied by the mask and a hooded black cloak with gold colored tie strings. The armor itself consists of a half-plate cuirass, two pauldrons, and two thigh guards. The cuirass runs from his collar to the middle of his abdomen then stopping just before his armpits and has a very dull convex shape. The metal is colored black with a navy-blue colored gambeson (thick cloth jacket under the plate-mail). The gambeson comes down to just above the knee, forming a thin cloth kilt that has an open upside-down V shape in the front and comes to a point at his belt buckle. Roman centurion-like pauldrons with thick tiered pieces of metal are used to cover his shoulders. A gauntlet with pointed fingers and a matching vambrace covers his sword-arm while his left arm remains unarmored. The shoulders, vambrace, and gauntlet are all painted black with gold painted rivets. Two large thigh guards start just above his hips, are hooked onto the belt over the gambeson, and come down to the middle of the thigh. The guards are quartz-shaped with rounded points and wrap around the thigh to give mostly side protection, but to also provide a little bit to the front and back of the thigh. They are black with a navy outline and his signature image of the serpent’s eye on the center of the guards in a gold paint. This same gold outline is also printed onto the left side of the cuirass as well as the back of the black cloak that accompanies the suit. All of this is usually placed over his normal attire, excluding the leather jacket of course.

Weapon Description

Wyrm’s Avarice is a wide greatsword that doubles as a semi-automatic marksman rifle. The sword itself is four feet long in length 2 1/2 feet in width. The blade is 2 1/2 feet long and has a symmetrical concave curve that is wide at the hilt, slightly bottlenecks, then widens back up as it nears the point of the greatsword. The Blade is black while in the fuller of the sword are streaks of gold paint centered around a large blue eye with a sharp pupil that act as a centerpiece for the sword. Underneath the blade is the handguard which takes the shape of a flat cone in order to deflect glancing blows on the hands. The handle below it is black and wrapped with a navy-blue cloth for grip and it is accompanied by a wide ring with a flat bottom for the pommel. In its rarely-seen ranged form, the handle angles downwards about 3/4ths of the way down its length for the shoulder to rest on. A trigger guard and pistol grip swings out just below the hilt. The bottom half of the blade splits from the top half and lowers slightly before spinning around, revealing a foregrip that swings out, as well as the barrel of the rifle. The barrel of the rifle is attached to the stationary half and only runs about 3/4ths of the length of the blade. Two magazines of 10 rounds a piece are loaded diagonally into a large triangular piece in between the hilt and handle with ammunition being discarded out of the pommel. This design allows for the rifle to be fired even while the greatsword is being swung or double the top half of the blade as a bayonet, the drawback is that only half of the sword’s blade is available, but the angled handle allows for the sword to be swung with better grip.


“Deep in an improvised subsection of Atlas on a cold winter night was a young boy with dirty cut up clothing and a frail frame akin to that of someone who hadn’t eaten in days. He somberly walked through a cold back alley, his old shoes straining under his weight as the child, no older than 8 years old, began to rummage around for anything akin to food or warm clothing. People walked past him as he coughed but paid the small child no mind. The bright lights of the modern city shining down on the populated street and slightly shining over the dark alley. The boy simply watched people pass from the alley, he knew the typical routine and hated how they looked down upon him. Someone would stare, or dart their gaze away, but both would treat him as if he didn’t exist. Sometimes they’d look and whisper to each other, looking down at the boy with faces of pity or fear. Many in the local suburbs knew of the boy’s past, after all it had been plastered all over the news in Atlas when the disaster had occurred. The boy was known to have an odd semblance, some knew the truth, but many thought it was some kind of curse. The rumor is that the boy was part of an immigrant family from Mistral and came by ship as a toddler with his family but supposedly had brought disaster to the voyage. According to surviving witnesses the young boy had an odd glow to him and had supposedly attracted a powerful Sea Feilong to the ship like a lighthouse in the night. The powerful grimm easily tore through the transport ship, resulting in only a few of the voyagers reaching their destination alive. Oddly enough, the boy was relatively unharmed and had been saved by one of the survivors despite protests from the others. Upon reaching Atlas he was put into an orphanage but was kicked out due to his refusal to comply and the myths around his past. For survival, the boy quickly became a known pickpocket and a local petty thief. Anything that was shiny and could fit in his pockets tended to disappear around him. He would trade them to people on the street for food and other items, with some of his spoils being actual junk because the young boy couldn’t grasp the concept of something shiny or metallic not being valuable. This would soon develop into a disorder, as he began to stockpile the few possessions he had, like how a dragon clings to its wealth, usually carrying it on a tattered bag on his hip. He always felt like he was saving it away in case he needed it and feared losing the only bartering chips he had. This caused the boy to get in trouble often and became even further notorious to locals as a troublemaker and cursed child. As he began to scavenge the alley, a backdoor opened from one of the business and two half-drunk men with surprised looks spotted the boat and quickly took pity on him but they had a different look in their eyes from the other passer byes that occasionally stopped. They walked back inside for but a moment before returning and gently picked up the kid and took him inside the pub they had been drinking in. At first, the boy thought he was being taken back to an orphanage but was too weak to fight back against his presumed aggressors and quit his struggling as he realized he was being taken inside.

Instead of harming him, they sat him down in front of a magnificent man that wore fine clothes, an expensive ring on each finger, and a smile just as rich as his possessions. The large coat he wore was well-worn but showed great value in the texture of the lavish furs that lined its insides and was accompanied by a harness with two intricate pistols strapped to his abdomen. His face was rugged and ended with a thick pointed beard just past his Adam’s apple. His hair was long and went past his shoulders, having a mane-like thickness and colored a jet-black. He welcomed the boy over, and the two men, looking akin to street thugs, sat him down at his table. In return, all the man asked was of young boy’s short, meaningless history and his name. The boy looked up to the captain with barren eyes and simply told the captain that he no longer had a name and was too young to remember his family. The captain and his men became very somber for a moment, the captain reaching over and patting the young boy’s shoulder. The captain told him that he would give him an offer, and if he accepted, he would give him a name. This man of great stature, much taller and stronger than Ishmael was even now, responded in kind with his name and told the young boy of his offer. His name was Abraham Felgrand, in which his fellow shipmen endearingly referred to him as “Captain Ahab.” His proposition was a life like that of the men around him, merriment and luxury with only a small price to pay to acquire such ends. That small price would be the mortal danger that Ishmael would have to put himself through. Of course, being an impoverished kid, that’s all he had to say, and the young boy was practically already part of the crew. The man grinned and stated that with his acceptance he would become an heir to the Felgrand line, with his first name now being known as “Ishmael.” The group finished their meal and took the boy to a long-abandoned section of the industrial district with an old factory that looked as if it had been long abandoned. There, they supplied Ishmael with clean clothes, a means for hygiene, and a place to sleep and eat.

What sat in that seemingly building of nothing more than rubble were three Atlesian dropships, obviously stolen and repainted into a black and gold color scheme. On one of the three was nose art of a Sea Feilong’s head with two black swords crossed behind it, the Captain’s fancy personal ship of course. All three had a similar marking of a golden eye with a sharp pupil, like that of a serpent, around the cockpit for easy identification on sorties. The building itself had been a bit remodeled on the inside, with a combined mess hall and barracks of only forty beds that sat on half of what was once the factory floor. The Captain’s room was in a hanging room that could only be reached by the scaffolding and catwalks of the building. It had a view over the entire factory floor and could see into the open Atlesian bay when the heavy bay doors were open, allowing for the captain to watch his success and crew as he lounged. It was obviously the manager’s office at one point but was now covered in nice carpet and contained valuable furniture, with even a few animal heads mounted on the walls. The rest of the space of the factory floor were taken up by the three ships as well as all of the equipment used to arm and repair them. A team of five or so men were tasked with the ship repairs while the rest were used as the boarding parties and crew of the ships. After raids they typically would divide up tasks such as cleaning, cooking, or other mundane tasks then drink and party until they passed out. Ishmael would take part in cooking or learning how to repair the dropships with the maintenance crew after sorties for the first few days. The captain would give the boy a few days to settle in before announcing that he planned on teaching Ishmael how to defend himself, as well as teach him the tricks of the trade, he hoped that with time he could train Ishmael to take up the business after him.

The training began just a few days after an introduction to the base and would last for a couple of years under his strict supervision. Captain Ahab welcomed the young boy to the organization known as “Rogue Wave” and talked about the main rules of the crew as well as their goals in order to get him acquainted. Theirs goals were to simply become rich off of the pillaging of Atlesian transport ships. These were typically done in seemingly random strikes against small convoys that carried dust or raw materials which were then sold to underground markets around the city or shipped off to Mistral’s markets if the items were too high profile. The rules themselves were a loose code that everyone had to follow, the first being about following the chain of command, the second was about the distribution of funds which was also determined by rank. Ishmael would get into often trouble with the crew for taking the occasional extra share, being disciplined with no food for the day or a small payment to whichever crew member he stole from. The items he would usually take would be the rounds to other’s weapons, shiny trinkets, and occasional armor plating. He would even fish out items from crew member’s bags as well as the pockets of defeated Atlesian troops during raids. He usually hid piles of different types of rounds and metals under his bed, which would clink and jingle whenever the bed was pressed on. Finally, the most important rule is that under no circumstances that innocents should be harmed. The captain’s reasoning for this was that they were “low down, no good thieves, but we’re not butchers and we shouldn’t aim to be.” This led to most engagements being against Atlesians robots or guards, the latter of which were treated with non-lethal force if required but most men surrendered as soon as the ships were boarded. Even when fighting Atlesian guards in open combat they would be instructed to not mortally wound or maim unless it was absolutely necessary for the safety of a crewman or themselves. This way the crew and their dealings wouldn’t be as fervently chased by the military if the government or SDC ever decided to bring the hammer down.

By the time he had hit the age of fifteen he had been on a couple of runs with them and Captain Ahab had chosen him to be part of the second wave of the boarding party. Naturally he supplied Ishmael with basic gear and the crew gave him tips on how to go through the motions without getting myself hurt or worse. It took a while, but eventually he was able to shape up to the captain’s expectations and became part of the primary raiding party just a year later. The setup for his new gear included masks to hide his face which he had custom made, as well as something dust-enhanced weapons in order to overwhelm the detachments of guards to most ships. Most of these weapons for the primary assault group were personally made by a black-market arms dealer supplied by Captain Ahab, with personal strengths from each member being implemented into the creation process. The usual raids consisted of using the stolen dropships to surround large naval vessels that were transporting dust shipments and military tech out of Atlas. They would typically use the guns of the dropships to intimidate the crew, firing a few bursts around the boat, before boarding with two groups of men ranging from ten to fifteen people per group. Ishmael would always be the first to push in, usually living his constituents behind in hopes of acquiring more loot as well as receiving praise from his comrades. They would then sweep the ship, then eliminate or subdue any resistance. Finally, the dropships’ cargo holds would be filled to the brim with loot before the three ships quickly beelined back to base. Thanks to this new tech and all the funds they swiped the crew was able to live comfortably for a long time as well as tend to their wounded, which Ishmael was typically a part of due to his brash fighting style. It even made the base seem a bit more like a pub with how often the crew partied. All this downtime pushed Ishmael to focus into activities like learning how to build and repair different weapon systems, as well as enhance his combat capabilities. To train, he would challenge other crew members to sparring matches, taking much joy in one on one settings as well as betting on himself every fight. He was knocked down on occasion, and even beaten due to his lack of ranged capabilities but he soon became known as the best swordsman in the crew. His crewmembers would often bet on him to win, as he rarely lost in hand-to-hand combat, and this would significantly inflate his ego as well as a burning desire to further prove himself to anyone who doubted him.

As Ishmael began to mature, the Captain had decided to tell him about what had supposedly happened to his family. Ishmael was oddly unaffected and rejected the captain’s offer of researching into the mythical beast. He explained that despite the tragedy, he never knew them, so he felt no connection or anger. What actually filled his mind was how common these kinds of attacks occurred. The Captain explained that hunters and huntsmen usually found glory and fame by slaying such beasts and were seen as folk heroes. To the young man that had only been called a curse, it interested him greatly. He soon began to think about it as a path of redemption, maybe being known as a powerful hero rather than a pocket picking curse. He began to ask for more information on the topic daily, with the Captain becoming increasingly annoyed but being oddly knowledgeable. One day he asked about the Captain’s connections and if he could secure him a way to one of these schools with something about the intrusive question hitting a nerve with Captain Ahab. After a bit of a heated argument about his unknown past and Ishmael’s obligation to the crew, the Captain caved and dismissed it as a temporary fixation of the boy, telling him that would see what he could do.

Much of the crew’s background began with impoverished drifters that had some kind of distaste for Atlas or the Schnee Dust Company and decided that they were going to be the exploiters instead of the exploited. Captain Ahab had the most contempt however, as it always seemed to be more than just business when he went out on raids, but he never divulged his past to most of his crew members. Many assumed he was some kind of hero at some point by the expertise of his combat skills as well as his knack for grand strategy. He always seemed to be two steps ahead of anyone that tried to openly confront him, like rival raiders or the occasional Atlesian ground squad. He also had a plethora of books on Grimm that were usually left open on the desk in his quarters as well as old books on naval strategy. Ishmael would often look at these books as the Captain worked, usually learning more about the Grimm and legendary heroes that defeated them as well as forms of combat strategy. He would also come to agree with the crew as they taught him about their view of the world and noted how poor most of Atlas was if the upper-class was excluded. This made every raid a personal assault on the rich, which most of the crew disliked with a fervent passion.

Unknown to most of the crew, Captain Ahab’s second in command had become increasingly annoyed with Ishmael’s contention to what he saw as his claim to be the next captain. He would soon turn himself in and aid the SDC as well as the Atlesian military in locating the crew as well as supplying them with information on their next planned raid. The small raid would be successful, but the trap had been set with a small taskforce being sent to follow them before raiding the base. The military would have them surrounded and despite Ishmael’s opposition, Captain Ahab gave him an order to run while he and the rest of the crew kept them distracted. Ishmael protested, and began to charge ahead before the Captain demanded it as an order. Captain Ahab handed him a boarding pass for a ship to Vale as well as a completed entrance letter to Beacon, the bold fighter confused at why the captain wouldn’t let him fight. He hugged his adopted son and told him to leave for the combat school in a few weeks’ time, using the enrollment to better himself in combat and to hopefully make him go down a better path in life. Ishmael could only grit his teeth and sadly nod before slipping out of a small escape route under the cover of darkness. He fled to a small bar down the street and decided to lay low there, not noticing that a couple of the guards had followed him. They would barge in through all exits with weapons drawn and instructed him to surrender. Being the wise teenager, he was, he decided that the best course of action was to take a dive out of the second story window as an escape.

After a hard landing into a dirty back alley they caught up with him and reiterated their commands to drop his weapons and surrender. The anger of losing what he saw as his family and the jarring fall was too much for him to contain as he worked himself into a rage. Suddenly, high-speed winds kicked up around him, forming a thick wall of air and rain as crackling electricity seemed to roll off of his hands and chest. The men opened fire, but their shots simply flew off their course as they continued to fire. Ishmael prepared to strike, crouching low and pointing his sword towards his targets, however the Captain’s words rang through his head. “We’re not butchers.” He suddenly stopped, realizing his mistake and lowering his sword. He would use the forming winds to push back the guardsmen into a retreat before fleeing the scene himself and temporarily escaping. Thanks to his new ability he was able to avoid capture and hung around Atlas for a bit, traveling around with the generous amount of Lien he still had left. Besides food, most of it was spent on normal clothing, toiletries, and a bag to carry his stuff in. He was able to usually lay low by hiding the mask and armor under a cloak which was purchased in one of the many shops around the city. Wanted posters were soon plastered all over the city, headlined with the nickname “Leviathan” due to them only having a police sketch of his mask and the crew’s insignia of a Sea Feilong. He had lucked out, as not even he knew his real name and the police lacked any information on his possible location. Not knowing the crew’s location or if they were even still alive Ishmael decided that it would be best for him to leave until things cooled down. He would catch his ship to Vale a few days later, with a very well forged acceptance letter to Beacon in his hand. He figured that maybe he could even do some good and make a name for himself outside of Atlas, then hopefully turn his reputation around at home. He turned and watched the skyline of Atlas fade away, telling himself that he’d find out what happened to his adoptive father, and hopefully find a way to save him when he would be able to return.”


Ishmael is quite literally a vagabond in fancy clothing that may or may not be entirely his own. He is a very happy and laid-back person, nearly always having a smile on his face with a merry attitude among friends. He can be found openly singing tunes of old sea shanties or singing along with the music blaring out of his headphones. He can always be found in a pub or bar on the weekends drinking to his heart’s content with Lien that also may or may not be his. Regardless, he will never truthfully tell how he received these nice items seemingly at random and lies about how he received them when asked. His laid-back attitude also prevents most rude comments from getting under his skin, he may even laugh if the insult is good enough. However, this merriment and laid-back attitude isn’t because he is always a nice person, in fact he is very selfish especially when it comes to valuables and loot. His confidence knows no bounds on the battlefield, where he thinks of himself as quite the master swordsman and conveniently ignores any of his other flaws. The same goes for his lack of seriousness even in combat situations. It can be very difficult to get him to be serious about most matters, and even then, he’ll find a way to be nonchalant about dire straits. His typical philosophy is that “what will happen, will happen” causing him to be very loose around things like planning, strategy, or practice. Despite this, he never backs down from a challenge and believes that his skill alone can push him past his obstacles. This causes him to sometimes shun or take offense when help is received from others, as he perceives it as someone pitying him or looking down upon him. This all creates a facade for his true self that is still out searching for a permanent, non-crime related family that he can latch onto. Due to his recent events he tends to spend most of his time around alcohol to drink away his envy and loneliness. He wears his fancy clothes and nice accessories to hide his impoverished background as he fears that others will take pity. This kind of thinking results in him feeling distrustful and confrontational to actual wealthy individuals, even more so of anyone with an Atlesian background that isn’t from one of the lower classes.

He usually spends his free time listening to music on his headphones, taking long strolls and hanging out in town, or drinking in a local bar. If he isn’t doing one of these three things it can be assumed that he is out doing something slightly illegal or working out in the gym. larceny at this point has become a bit of his lifestyle as he has depended on it for so long to get by that he just cannot help but take things he is interested in. He usually feels no remorse, as he assumes that if it were important, it wouldn’t have been so easy for him to take. When confronted about stolen items, he acts ignorant, citing that his family from overseas in Atlas sent them to him as enrollment presents. This is another byproduct of his selfishness and self-centered nature. His pride also prevents him from practicing any forms of ranged combat. Despite his weapon coming equipped with a ranged form by the Captain’s request, Ishmael finds it cowardly to defeat an enemy in ranged combat, resulting in his effectiveness in ranged combat to be quite horrendous and barely being able to hit the broadside of a barn despite having a high-quality marksman rifle. If defeated in a duel by someone using ranged attacks, he loses respect for them instantly and argues the victory’s validity.

He is typically a very urban person due to his background and isn’t much of a fan of travelling into the wilderness, even if he understands how to scavenge for food and shelter. He also likes to frequent parties but is never there to cause trouble. He always calmly plants himself near the action and takes his fill of drinks, usually laughing and teasing the inebriated until he eventually becomes one himself. He typically doesn’t enjoy being the center of attention either but doesn’t mind being in the spotlight with a group. He is usually upbeat and confident and doesn’t let relaxed demeanor show any signs of nervousness or shyness. In all honesty if someone looked at him, they’d call him a bit childish, which he finds to be fair when citing his affinity for junk food, his common selfishness, and his refusal to stay in one spot for too long. He is also very open about his emotions, sometimes openly flirting, teasing, or making quick friends with the people he meets.


Links to rough sketches of the armor/weapon:

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