Crow Arkwright

Crow Arkwright
^Neutral

Race: Human
Gender: Male
Age: 27
Birthday: October 19

Class: Dark Falcon
Level: 2
HP: 17
STR: 4
MAG: 11
SKL: 3
SPD: 9
DEF: 4
RES: 9
Weapon(s) Type and Rank(s): Lances and Tomes

Hair Color: Raven
Eye Color: Light blue
Height: 6’
Weight: 148.11
Build: Tall and lanky
Clothing: Crow’s clothing consists of regular Nohrian attire and cloaks. Within combat situations, he wears light armor.

Profession: Artist
Alliance: Neutral
Hometown: Cykrensia
Loves: Art in all of its various forms, reading, his pegasus
Likes: Peanuts, coffee
Dislikes: Smelly cheese, smelly places
Hates: King Garon
Voice: Throaty
Personality:
Crow is an unassuming and melancholy fellow who listens more than he speaks, and learns more than he teaches. He’s not a scheduled person, and often times he’s stuffing his face in books for his entertainment. He’s learned in the ways of art and its appreciation, positively loves contemplating the beauty of objects, and has a habit of collecting them.

A man of words, he has formed a tough skin for criticism and prefers that he and an opponent battle with words. Of course, there is the occasional scuffle with ingrates whose lives revolve around physicality and brute strength.

While he may not be the best stable boy, Crow has a close attachment to his pegasus.

Biography:
“… Hey, there. You look a little lost… huh me? You’re… looking for me?

Keh, where’d you learn that…? Geez, those guys have loose lips… fine, what is it you want to know… my story? Huh… well, that’s gonna cost you… oh, whoa, this is nice. Where’d you get this? Hoshido? Wow, this is something else… okay, alright, I’ll bite.

I was the son of a nobleman. Not a big nobleman, just one of your lesser ones. See, my father was… the best. The best of the best. The best of what? Making paintings, of course. He knew how to make tempera and oil paint sing, and every noble who was in the know wanted a portrait of themselves in the Arkwright style. I admired my old man a lot.

Then, one day he came home with a bad look on him. He said he had it. He had enough of the whole load of trash that the Nohrian government was spouting. Said he wouldn’t let the old king do as he wishes. He comes into contact with a few locals that were of the same mind.

So, for the first time in a while, he made a masterpiece of a painting. He painted that old tyrant like he saw him and had it displayed in a gallery. Bam. That was the people’s voice right then and there.

It was on the wall only for two hours before it was taken down and smashed to pieces. Nohrian soldiers, y’see. They arrested my dad, and me as well. We were taken aaaaaall the way north to Windmire before the old king.

Then, just like that, his head fell from his shoulders, and I was forced to become a soldier. They tried to indoctrinate me with the ideals, but… heck, I was an artist like my dad. I was pretty set in my ways, and a whole lot of the junk they had me spew back to them were empty and had no real meaning behind it. I just did it to get out of the red.

I tell you what, I hated working for the Nohrian government. King Garon really does what he can to keep his rule nice and smooth, and there are a lot of things I saw that I care not to mention. Of course, there was some ups—I met my partner for life there as I was trained how to be a proper stable boy. Heckle, yeaaah. She’s the best pegasus you could ever lay your eyes on. She’s got kick and a mean bray. Believe me on the kick.

So, at one point, I met this knight. Tough as nails, and was good at fighting too—real good. They had him as training instructor for my squad. Yeah, we were learning how to properly fight. One guy took a good beating, but after that, it was regular stuff…

After training, he came to me and asked me my name. I said, ‘Arkwright, sir.’ He gives me this eyeball expression and shook my hand. Apparently, he was a huge admirer of my father’s work. He offered his condolences in secret.

One day, I’m invited to work with his squadron of knights. Given I was trained as a Dark Falcon, I had the potential to assist with fighting mages that would possibly endanger the squad. I agreed of course, this guy was my best friend at this point and I wanted to stick close to good people as much as possible. We were the best team anyone could ever ask for.

Heh… well, good things come to an end, right? So, something weird happened with the squad. Some kind of… insubordination of some kind, and the squad was immediately dishonorably discharged. They didn’t keep me or Heckle either because we were affiliated with the squadron.

So, uh, here we are. My old instructor is still wandering about someplace while I’m laying low. We done? Good. Tell that elf to shut his trap. I don’t want you guys up my tassets with storytime.”

Status: Single
Pet: Heckle, a raven-colored pegasus
Additional Notes:

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