Todd's Bios

[Rosie]

Yes.

[Rosie]

FName: Raphail
Age: 541
Gender: Male
Race: Orc
Appearance: Born into the savage, barbarian life of a tribe south of Mizuho, Raphail has garnered the obvious roughness and scars of the abhorrent life he had no choice to partake in. From a youthful age he grew into a rough, callous skin, hardened by the constant fights among the other tribesmen and the roughly horseplay with the others of his age in the wild. Deep, purple and gray scars litter his back, forearms, and his right shoulder; across his chest is a noticeably larger mark of a dark hue shaped in a half-circle.

His figure is the definition of orc; his body large and defined of years of battle and exercise, with strong, sculpted arms and legs; his head square and jaw large with long, dangerous tuts gutting up over his upperlip and fancying holes in each(a state of old tribal fashion among men); and with ample, heavy pawlike(not literally) hands that give the impression of dire strength. He is beyond an average condition, holding a body fit for an orc of several decades earlier; however his shape may seem it is obvious of his old and wise age. One cannot deny Raphail's sheer strength from his build, despite age.

His flesh is of a lighter, gray tinted hue of what had been a dark green as of his younger years. The palms of his hands and knockes are nearly white, worn from countless years of fighting and sword slaying and seeming to have the ability to shatter stone with a grasp. The area along the gridge of his nose and around his deep, green eyes lighter as well. And, possibly the hardest blow of old age in his eyes, is the gray coating the single ponytail at the back of his head, as the rest is bald.

As for clothing, Raphail wears whatever he may get. No quarrels to clothing.

Weapons: Among Raphail's most trusted weapons are his fists. He is above the average strength of an orc, born from Herculean blood(not literally, either). He was never trained in an art of fighting rather than the art of war. His reflexes, though dulled through time, are sharp as his cleaver's edge.

His secondary weapon, used mainly, though oddly, as a rangled weapon, is his trusty steel cleaver. There is nothing special about it. It is merely a hunk of sharped(very sharp) steel with no handgaurd. Kept in a sling of leather strapped at his side.

Alignment: Good

Short History: Raphial's early years were spent in a tribe of barbarian-like orcs. Though filled with bloody fights and horrific violence there is little to tell. Raphial was the some of the head tribesmen and thus participated in several hundred fights a year, almost twice to four times a day. The thrill of fighting was wondrous and as it soon became apparent that he would not relinquish his heir to the youghs he was challenged by the adults.

Raphiel was a hellish youth with the fight of a hundred lions in him. He never backed down from a fight and never doubted his abilities. He thrived for excitement, and the constant challenges satisfied him for some time, but there was more he wanted, a new urge. He wanted the excitement of war but even more so, adventure.

Before his father ever left the throne to his heir Raphiel had vanished. It didn't come to a surprise. When he wasn't there to fight he was gone, out exploring the southern island. And soon, the north. He found valuables and more rewards and adventure he could imagine. Over the course of two years he had grown into a new spirits though never fully losing his cocky and conceited nature, he had grown out of the barbarian life. There was more out there.

Over the millenea he traveled and fought and discovered. He made friends and won and lost love. He had lived several lifetime worths and he would be damned if it would stop. Age was not a handicap it was a gift. Wisdom was endowed. He was not a wizard or a genius but he knew about the world and sense. He had traveled across the land, searching far and wide.

To those who knew him he was the strongman, the orc who fought a dragon hand-to-claw.

He has never paid much head to politics and world affairs, however. When the wars and all that badshit started, he had quited the world of the time and hollowed away. Various reasons. Irritant. Dragonshit. Though mostly his excuse would be sickness. Y'see he came down with a nasty case of some randomass flu, missing out on all the action.

Other: when Raphail was four-hundred he came across a massive treasure, among the most he has ever seen. Little did he know it was guarded by Scri, an ancient red dragon.

Epic battle ensued. Blood was shed. Claws were broke. Friendship was made. A friendship between two mighty and old warriors. The most generic shit ever.

Raphial never did get any gold, though.

Rosie/Raphail/541/Male/Orc/likeiknow