Post by sentranicia on Mar 4, 2010 12:06:24 GMT -5
Name: Rayner Aizare
Alias: Blackwing
Age: 26
Gender: Male
Nationality: Valtheran
Appearance: Rayner exudes hate.
His jet black, shining hair falls over his green eyes ever so slightly, blending into the dark lines around them. His skin is pale, but not extremely white, giving a fierce contrast to his clothing and hair. His arms are thick with muscle, as are his shoulders, from carrying heavy weaponry and dead bodies on his back so often. His abdominal muscles are honed but not as defined as those in his arms. They are simply not used as much for his purposes.
Rayner's clothing matches the rest of his appearance. Black, appealing, and well cut. He wears long-sleeved, buttoned down, collared black shirts, generally under a long black leather coat. Slung across his hips is a belt, not held in his belt loops but secured only by the buckle at center. The holster for his gun rests at his right hip, and on his left is an ammo pouch. He wears black cargo pants with silver threading that fit loosely around his legs but give him just the right shape. He also wears black leather combat boots that he takes great care of, and in his left is hidden a large knife. On his hands are black gloves with the same silver thread as his pants that form a large skull on the side and rise to mid finger before cutting off to reveal skin, and at his wrist is a bracelet of small dragon fangs.
Perhaps his most distinguished feature is the two huge, black, feathered wings that extend from his back with a span of at least 18 feet when fully spread, perhaps more. These he does not even attempt to hide, but rather plays them up with pride. On his right wing, a silver chain falls from the stroke axis, and a large dragon fang is held in the claws of the pendant. This increases the muscle mass in this wing incredibly, just from carrying it around in flight. His left wing carries a large silver ring at the stroke axis which carries the same amount of weight to keep his wings in constant balance.
Rayner has a single crescent shaped scar under his right eye that has a slight glow to it.
Personality: Rayner is not the kind to curl up in your lap and purr. More likely than that he would reach up and cut your throat rather than be told to sit and stay. He is no one's pet though he does work under orders for his pay. He is a quiet man, but when he does speak you'd better listen up. It's not his general practice to speak meaningless things.
An assassin for hire, Rayner enjoys his job, seeking revenge for his family by wiping out people who have harmed others, hoping to someday run across the brutes that took his loved ones. On occasion he kills for his own mercenary needs.
Rayner loves women, but he doesn't obviously chase after them. More often, they will approach him in the way he needs them to. He is a gentleman, however, and will not treat them poorly.
Possessions: A Walther p22 Handgun (linked), completely black, well cared for, and well loved. It's earned itself the name Creed by the handler and those who fear it. A large knife for combat and other use (linked). A huge draft horse by the name of Crescent (linked).
Special Abilities: Can charge balls of lightning in the palm of his hand and hurl them toward enemies to envelope them in a powerful charge.
History: Rayner was born to a very simple family in a small house in the city of Coracinduth. His mother was a rather distant woman, and his father was not the kindest of souls, but they got along all right. Every now and then, the man would lose his temper and send a fist flying into the side of his son's face, leaving him bleeding on the floor, glaring out at the rest of the house. His mother never stepped in, submitting to her husband quietly.
When Rayner was 3, his mother gave birth to a daughter, Melody. Rayner and Melody became close very quickly, he protecting her from their father, her consoling and comforting him after a beating occurred. They loved each other very much and stuck together like glue. By the time Rayner was 14 and she was 11, they were best friends, inseparable siblings. It was at this age that Rayner was able to purchase his first horse, a large black draft by the name of Crescent. The two siblings rode the huge animal every day through the forests, enjoying the feeling of freedom
Unfortunately, it was that same year that tragedy fell upon the household. A group of four robbers smashed down the back door of their home one evening, immediately firing six shots at his father who fell to the floor, bleeding to death in moments. Melody screamed and ran to her mother in the bedroom while Rayner stood outside the door, the family shotgun in his hands, quivering with fear. The men overpowered him easily, forcing him into the corner of the room and beating him harshly until he could no longer move, and leaned him up against the wall. They turned to the women then, brutally raping and killing them as Rayner looked on helplessly. He struggled to get up, but his right leg was broken and several of his ribs were as well. He would not have the strength to fight even if he could stand. As the men stood his naked and bleeding sister up against the wall to execute her, he said quietly, in a forced voice, "I'm sorry, Melody. I love you." She grimaced through her tears and said the words back, "I love you too..." Immediately a gun went off and she dropped to the floor, their mother following shortly thereafter.
The men began to take their belongings then, and when they had what they had come for, one of them put a shot in Rayner's chest. Slumping to the floor, Rayner felt his blood begin to ebb away as the door slammed shut and the men retreated into the darkness of the night...
Rayner awoke on a soft bed with bandages around his abdomen and leg. Hesitantly, he sat up, wincing only slightly at a stiffness in his shoulders and hips. He could no longer feel the brokenness of his leg or ribs and more incredibly he was alive. They'd put a bullet in his heart! How was he still breathing? Rolling his shoulders slowly he looked around. There was a strange looking man sitting in the corner of the room, staring at him, studying him. Rayner's first instinct was fear, but he decided that he would likely not be here if the man meant him harm. He inquired as to who the man was, learning that he was a healer of sorts, that he used magic to repair bodies. The man had restructured his leg and ribs, extracted the bullet, and patched the hole in Rayner's heart. Over the next few days, the two worked to put the strength back in the boy's bones and muscles, and finally Rayner was able to say farewell and go on his way.
Upon returning to the house, he found that his horse had been left in the stables. When he stepped inside, Rayner was flooded with memories of that night, nearly preventing him from going any further. But he had to. He had a job to do. Stepping over his father's body, Rayner headed upstairs. He stripped the sheets off of his bed and headed into the room where his sister and mother lay dead. Wrapping Melody up in the white sheet, he carried her body outside and laid her down on the soft ground beneath a red maple. Digging a hole big enough for her tiny frame, he gently lowered her in, covered her face with the sheet, and buried her. He knelt down at her feet then and wept, the warm air holding him tightly as if to comfort. After around two hours, Rayner stood, anger on his face and in his heart, "I will avenge you, Melody." he said, "This I vow."
And from that day forward, Rayner became a hired killer, taking money from kings and peasants alike to assassinate their enemies and keep them safe. He could only hope he would one day run across the men who had murdered his beloved sister.
When Rayner turned 18, he was hired to kill a warlock of sorts, one who had demonized a daughter of the man who would pay him. The little girl had been killed, destroyed by the evil spirit within her soul. Rayner was particularly eager to carry out this job. Arriving at the home of the man he was to kill, he could sense the darkness that radiated from the building. Crescent snorted and stepped nervously, and Rayner dismounted, letting the horse wander into the safety of the trees. He would come back with only a sharp whistle. Fastening the silencer to the end of his gun, Rayner headed inside.
But it was a messier kill than he was used to. He had not been prepared for the demon spirits that haunted the house and warned their master of danger, nor had he been prepared for one of them to enter his body and emit such terrible agony. He got his shot off to the head of the man he was sent to destroy, but too late the demons left the place. The one planted within him had found a new host, one that would obey him this time. Rayner lay on the floor, thrashing and fighting the pain within him. The demon struggled to overcome his heart and his mind, but without success. Rayner's mind was still his own, but the shadows began to dominate his heart. Still the boy was good, but now he was tainted with the heart of a demon. Dark and distant. Cold and alone. By the end of the battle within himself, the demon compromised to take his heart, and with one last spasm of sheer pain, Rayner's new wings sprouted from his shoulder blades. As abruptly as the pain had come, it stopped, and Rayner stood slowly. He fluttered his wings. Wings? He suppressed a cry of surprise hiding in his throat. He was not at all deterred by this, in fact it seemed that it may aid him in his profession.
As Rayner grew, so did his wings, to a span of over 18 feet, jet black as his hair and strong as his arms. He pierced one of them himself and hung a chain on the other, gaining even more strength in them this way. Still he rides Crescent, the freedom of flight matched in higher power by the freedom of the rider.
Miscellaneous: Rayner loves his job, and may stop after killing the men that killed his sister...maybe. Even when he is not riding his horse, it follows him, unseen, to be called by his whistle. Oh, and, this is what he looks like. --> (linked)
Alias: Blackwing
Age: 26
Gender: Male
Nationality: Valtheran
Appearance: Rayner exudes hate.
His jet black, shining hair falls over his green eyes ever so slightly, blending into the dark lines around them. His skin is pale, but not extremely white, giving a fierce contrast to his clothing and hair. His arms are thick with muscle, as are his shoulders, from carrying heavy weaponry and dead bodies on his back so often. His abdominal muscles are honed but not as defined as those in his arms. They are simply not used as much for his purposes.
Rayner's clothing matches the rest of his appearance. Black, appealing, and well cut. He wears long-sleeved, buttoned down, collared black shirts, generally under a long black leather coat. Slung across his hips is a belt, not held in his belt loops but secured only by the buckle at center. The holster for his gun rests at his right hip, and on his left is an ammo pouch. He wears black cargo pants with silver threading that fit loosely around his legs but give him just the right shape. He also wears black leather combat boots that he takes great care of, and in his left is hidden a large knife. On his hands are black gloves with the same silver thread as his pants that form a large skull on the side and rise to mid finger before cutting off to reveal skin, and at his wrist is a bracelet of small dragon fangs.
Perhaps his most distinguished feature is the two huge, black, feathered wings that extend from his back with a span of at least 18 feet when fully spread, perhaps more. These he does not even attempt to hide, but rather plays them up with pride. On his right wing, a silver chain falls from the stroke axis, and a large dragon fang is held in the claws of the pendant. This increases the muscle mass in this wing incredibly, just from carrying it around in flight. His left wing carries a large silver ring at the stroke axis which carries the same amount of weight to keep his wings in constant balance.
Rayner has a single crescent shaped scar under his right eye that has a slight glow to it.
Personality: Rayner is not the kind to curl up in your lap and purr. More likely than that he would reach up and cut your throat rather than be told to sit and stay. He is no one's pet though he does work under orders for his pay. He is a quiet man, but when he does speak you'd better listen up. It's not his general practice to speak meaningless things.
An assassin for hire, Rayner enjoys his job, seeking revenge for his family by wiping out people who have harmed others, hoping to someday run across the brutes that took his loved ones. On occasion he kills for his own mercenary needs.
Rayner loves women, but he doesn't obviously chase after them. More often, they will approach him in the way he needs them to. He is a gentleman, however, and will not treat them poorly.
Possessions: A Walther p22 Handgun (linked), completely black, well cared for, and well loved. It's earned itself the name Creed by the handler and those who fear it. A large knife for combat and other use (linked). A huge draft horse by the name of Crescent (linked).
Special Abilities: Can charge balls of lightning in the palm of his hand and hurl them toward enemies to envelope them in a powerful charge.
History: Rayner was born to a very simple family in a small house in the city of Coracinduth. His mother was a rather distant woman, and his father was not the kindest of souls, but they got along all right. Every now and then, the man would lose his temper and send a fist flying into the side of his son's face, leaving him bleeding on the floor, glaring out at the rest of the house. His mother never stepped in, submitting to her husband quietly.
When Rayner was 3, his mother gave birth to a daughter, Melody. Rayner and Melody became close very quickly, he protecting her from their father, her consoling and comforting him after a beating occurred. They loved each other very much and stuck together like glue. By the time Rayner was 14 and she was 11, they were best friends, inseparable siblings. It was at this age that Rayner was able to purchase his first horse, a large black draft by the name of Crescent. The two siblings rode the huge animal every day through the forests, enjoying the feeling of freedom
Unfortunately, it was that same year that tragedy fell upon the household. A group of four robbers smashed down the back door of their home one evening, immediately firing six shots at his father who fell to the floor, bleeding to death in moments. Melody screamed and ran to her mother in the bedroom while Rayner stood outside the door, the family shotgun in his hands, quivering with fear. The men overpowered him easily, forcing him into the corner of the room and beating him harshly until he could no longer move, and leaned him up against the wall. They turned to the women then, brutally raping and killing them as Rayner looked on helplessly. He struggled to get up, but his right leg was broken and several of his ribs were as well. He would not have the strength to fight even if he could stand. As the men stood his naked and bleeding sister up against the wall to execute her, he said quietly, in a forced voice, "I'm sorry, Melody. I love you." She grimaced through her tears and said the words back, "I love you too..." Immediately a gun went off and she dropped to the floor, their mother following shortly thereafter.
The men began to take their belongings then, and when they had what they had come for, one of them put a shot in Rayner's chest. Slumping to the floor, Rayner felt his blood begin to ebb away as the door slammed shut and the men retreated into the darkness of the night...
Rayner awoke on a soft bed with bandages around his abdomen and leg. Hesitantly, he sat up, wincing only slightly at a stiffness in his shoulders and hips. He could no longer feel the brokenness of his leg or ribs and more incredibly he was alive. They'd put a bullet in his heart! How was he still breathing? Rolling his shoulders slowly he looked around. There was a strange looking man sitting in the corner of the room, staring at him, studying him. Rayner's first instinct was fear, but he decided that he would likely not be here if the man meant him harm. He inquired as to who the man was, learning that he was a healer of sorts, that he used magic to repair bodies. The man had restructured his leg and ribs, extracted the bullet, and patched the hole in Rayner's heart. Over the next few days, the two worked to put the strength back in the boy's bones and muscles, and finally Rayner was able to say farewell and go on his way.
Upon returning to the house, he found that his horse had been left in the stables. When he stepped inside, Rayner was flooded with memories of that night, nearly preventing him from going any further. But he had to. He had a job to do. Stepping over his father's body, Rayner headed upstairs. He stripped the sheets off of his bed and headed into the room where his sister and mother lay dead. Wrapping Melody up in the white sheet, he carried her body outside and laid her down on the soft ground beneath a red maple. Digging a hole big enough for her tiny frame, he gently lowered her in, covered her face with the sheet, and buried her. He knelt down at her feet then and wept, the warm air holding him tightly as if to comfort. After around two hours, Rayner stood, anger on his face and in his heart, "I will avenge you, Melody." he said, "This I vow."
And from that day forward, Rayner became a hired killer, taking money from kings and peasants alike to assassinate their enemies and keep them safe. He could only hope he would one day run across the men who had murdered his beloved sister.
When Rayner turned 18, he was hired to kill a warlock of sorts, one who had demonized a daughter of the man who would pay him. The little girl had been killed, destroyed by the evil spirit within her soul. Rayner was particularly eager to carry out this job. Arriving at the home of the man he was to kill, he could sense the darkness that radiated from the building. Crescent snorted and stepped nervously, and Rayner dismounted, letting the horse wander into the safety of the trees. He would come back with only a sharp whistle. Fastening the silencer to the end of his gun, Rayner headed inside.
But it was a messier kill than he was used to. He had not been prepared for the demon spirits that haunted the house and warned their master of danger, nor had he been prepared for one of them to enter his body and emit such terrible agony. He got his shot off to the head of the man he was sent to destroy, but too late the demons left the place. The one planted within him had found a new host, one that would obey him this time. Rayner lay on the floor, thrashing and fighting the pain within him. The demon struggled to overcome his heart and his mind, but without success. Rayner's mind was still his own, but the shadows began to dominate his heart. Still the boy was good, but now he was tainted with the heart of a demon. Dark and distant. Cold and alone. By the end of the battle within himself, the demon compromised to take his heart, and with one last spasm of sheer pain, Rayner's new wings sprouted from his shoulder blades. As abruptly as the pain had come, it stopped, and Rayner stood slowly. He fluttered his wings. Wings? He suppressed a cry of surprise hiding in his throat. He was not at all deterred by this, in fact it seemed that it may aid him in his profession.
As Rayner grew, so did his wings, to a span of over 18 feet, jet black as his hair and strong as his arms. He pierced one of them himself and hung a chain on the other, gaining even more strength in them this way. Still he rides Crescent, the freedom of flight matched in higher power by the freedom of the rider.
Miscellaneous: Rayner loves his job, and may stop after killing the men that killed his sister...maybe. Even when he is not riding his horse, it follows him, unseen, to be called by his whistle. Oh, and, this is what he looks like. --> (linked)