Post by Scab on Aug 6, 2009 20:15:03 GMT -5
Name: Scab (real name unknown)
Date of Birth: Human birth: 1990, Wight turning: 2011
Hometown: Wootten Wawen
Species: Wight
Occupation: Occupation as a human is known only to him, but as a wight he has embraced the notion of trade with the more powerful supernatural beings if they can provide him with fresh corpses.
Appearance: Scab is incredibly skinny and bony. If he were human he would be dangerously underweight. He wears torn, ragged clothes that are caked with mud and dirt and he reeks of the fester of death. Scab's hair is a matted, black mess, gelled up into permanent, uneven spikes by a decade of filth. His eyes are crimson orbs in his sunken sockets, his face is a grotesque mask of horror, and his hands are so bony and clawed they are barely capable of manipulating things properly anymore.
Personality: Like all wights, Scab's remaining humanity is buried deep beneath an all encompassing obsession for rotting human meat upon which to feast. His simple, animalistic mind can scarcely process any desires or courses of action that aren't directly related to this goal, though on occasion, some human thoughts can pass through his head. Scab is devious, cunning and cowardly.
Bio/History: Scab's human life is a mystery to all but himself, largely because no one, including him, really cares about his past. He had lived only to be 21 when he was attacked, being unfortunate enough to be alone in a graveyard when a band of undead ambushed him in an attempt to take an easy meal. In panic he was able to outrun the horrible beasts, but this led only to a worse fate as the wight poison slowly devoured him instead.
Scab recognises the weakness of a wight compared to many other creatures, and has chosen to rely on those more powerful than himself to acquire food for him. Scab works as a trader between the other races, and his trade is in information, since most creatures are too reviled to go near such a disgusting, pathetic creature, and would find the idea of him being a threat to be laughable, he is able to wander pretty much as he pleases and keep an eye on things. On occasion, he will perform a service, such as the daylight duties of a vampire, or urban tasks for a werewolf.
Family: Possibly he once had one of these, but that is simply another irrelevant detail. Now he has no family, friends, or loyalties of any kind. His only ties are to his current employer, and these bonds are formed from nothing more than fear of the consequences for crossing them. If Scab did have a family, he would eat them without a second thought
Date of Birth: Human birth: 1990, Wight turning: 2011
Hometown: Wootten Wawen
Species: Wight
Occupation: Occupation as a human is known only to him, but as a wight he has embraced the notion of trade with the more powerful supernatural beings if they can provide him with fresh corpses.
Appearance: Scab is incredibly skinny and bony. If he were human he would be dangerously underweight. He wears torn, ragged clothes that are caked with mud and dirt and he reeks of the fester of death. Scab's hair is a matted, black mess, gelled up into permanent, uneven spikes by a decade of filth. His eyes are crimson orbs in his sunken sockets, his face is a grotesque mask of horror, and his hands are so bony and clawed they are barely capable of manipulating things properly anymore.
Personality: Like all wights, Scab's remaining humanity is buried deep beneath an all encompassing obsession for rotting human meat upon which to feast. His simple, animalistic mind can scarcely process any desires or courses of action that aren't directly related to this goal, though on occasion, some human thoughts can pass through his head. Scab is devious, cunning and cowardly.
Bio/History: Scab's human life is a mystery to all but himself, largely because no one, including him, really cares about his past. He had lived only to be 21 when he was attacked, being unfortunate enough to be alone in a graveyard when a band of undead ambushed him in an attempt to take an easy meal. In panic he was able to outrun the horrible beasts, but this led only to a worse fate as the wight poison slowly devoured him instead.
Scab recognises the weakness of a wight compared to many other creatures, and has chosen to rely on those more powerful than himself to acquire food for him. Scab works as a trader between the other races, and his trade is in information, since most creatures are too reviled to go near such a disgusting, pathetic creature, and would find the idea of him being a threat to be laughable, he is able to wander pretty much as he pleases and keep an eye on things. On occasion, he will perform a service, such as the daylight duties of a vampire, or urban tasks for a werewolf.
Family: Possibly he once had one of these, but that is simply another irrelevant detail. Now he has no family, friends, or loyalties of any kind. His only ties are to his current employer, and these bonds are formed from nothing more than fear of the consequences for crossing them. If Scab did have a family, he would eat them without a second thought