Post by singent on Jan 22, 2009 21:17:44 GMT -5
Name: John "Curb-Drinker" Aumer
Age: 31
Race: Human
Gender: Male
Appearance: A non-descript man with brown hair and brown eyes. He wears everything he owns. This includes a shirt that might have been white once, a leather jerkin that has seen ....a jacket that is worth nearly nothing the condition it's in, a pair of pants that have been torn and fixed repeatedly, so much that the original material can't be distinguished from the patches, and no longer reaches his ankles. Binding his feet are crudely made hemp sandals. Finally, his greatest posession is an overcoat of layered leather. The back reaches knee length. It serves as both winter and rain coat. His hair is a rat's nest, almost literally at one point and his beard just the same with yesterday...er maybe even last week's meal. He is often seen carrying a bottle, flask, or jug.
Personality: A very lacksidasical mage. His convictions lie in the bottom of the next glass or bottle. Very nice and easy going until you try to take away his fun. Woe be to the one who tries this. Loves cats, and even see's them as his new-found family. And he loves finding a kindred spirit in the haze of alcohol.
Faction Affiliation: None
Weapon(s): Anything he's holding or can get his hands on. Or his trusty whooping stick.
Bio: A raving drunk mage. Oddly, can almost prove that the more alcohol he has in his body the better he gets, or so he claims. His mother was a prostitute that was killed by a rival. His father dragged off to jail for debts that he owed from excessive gambling. He has led his life like his pets that he found in the streets, the stray cats. He will take up jobs and work using his magic to get enough money for more alcohol. He has excellent control of his magic, but his limit or what he is even capable not even he knows. Cause why try hard when all you need is alcohol? *swig*glug*glug*glug*
Age: 31
Race: Human
Gender: Male
Appearance: A non-descript man with brown hair and brown eyes. He wears everything he owns. This includes a shirt that might have been white once, a leather jerkin that has seen ....a jacket that is worth nearly nothing the condition it's in, a pair of pants that have been torn and fixed repeatedly, so much that the original material can't be distinguished from the patches, and no longer reaches his ankles. Binding his feet are crudely made hemp sandals. Finally, his greatest posession is an overcoat of layered leather. The back reaches knee length. It serves as both winter and rain coat. His hair is a rat's nest, almost literally at one point and his beard just the same with yesterday...er maybe even last week's meal. He is often seen carrying a bottle, flask, or jug.
Personality: A very lacksidasical mage. His convictions lie in the bottom of the next glass or bottle. Very nice and easy going until you try to take away his fun. Woe be to the one who tries this. Loves cats, and even see's them as his new-found family. And he loves finding a kindred spirit in the haze of alcohol.
Faction Affiliation: None
Weapon(s): Anything he's holding or can get his hands on. Or his trusty whooping stick.
Bio: A raving drunk mage. Oddly, can almost prove that the more alcohol he has in his body the better he gets, or so he claims. His mother was a prostitute that was killed by a rival. His father dragged off to jail for debts that he owed from excessive gambling. He has led his life like his pets that he found in the streets, the stray cats. He will take up jobs and work using his magic to get enough money for more alcohol. He has excellent control of his magic, but his limit or what he is even capable not even he knows. Cause why try hard when all you need is alcohol? *swig*glug*glug*glug*
