Fighter™
12-10-08, 11:56 AM
Name: Bob
Age: 26
Sex: Yes, please
Height: 6’4’’
Weight: 250 lbs
Hair Colour: Blonde and spiky and long
Eye Colour: Baby blue
Occupation: General of asskickery
Personality:
Bob is a swell guy. He’s the guy that men want to be and women want to do and animals generally like. Unless they’re like rabid. He’s also a good guy, very nice and polite despite his tough upbringing and years spent in the gutters of the world. He’s the kind of a guy that buys strangers drinks and innocently flirts with waitresses. Bob is also pretty dumb. He’s definitely not the sharpest tool in the shed. In fact, he’s probably not even in the shed. But what he lacks in the brain department, he makes up with effort.
Appearance:
Bob is hot. Well, at least females think so once they see his perfectly sculptured body that looks like a statue of some man-god of old. His hair is long and blonde and shiny and his eyes are awesome and stunning, keen enough to cut through a melon, but soft enough to sweep the chicks off their feet. He is tall and broad in the shoulders, very muscular and is so hung that it’s like ridiculous. Seriously, he can’t wear shorts.
Weapons:
“Sword of Ownage”– This sword is awesome. It’s ridiculously huge, almost as big as Bob. It’s made of super-mega-awesome alloy that Bob believes came out of a fallen asteroid and is indestructible. It’s actually simple, red-tinted steel. Bob calls this sword simply “Sword”, because “Sword of Ownage” is hard to pronounce when he’s swinging it into someone’s face.
Armour:
“Plate Mail of the Ages” – This full plate mail really is awesome, though Bob doesn’t think so. He doesn’t like the black color of it (it doesn’t go well with his hair and eyes) and he thinks it slows him down. In truth, this prevalida armor is probably the only reason why Bob is still alive to this day.
Skills and Abilities:
If you gonna be dumb, you better be tough – Bob may be as intelligent as a monkey, but he’s tough as nails. Partially because of his hard upbringing and partially because of the dangerous life he leads, Bob is pretty damn resistant to damage. It takes about three times as much damage to bring him down (meaning he can lose about three times more blood than a normal human before collapsing, or taking three times more bludgeoning damage before he passes out).
Born under a dumb star – Mother Nature failed to grant Bob decent intellect that would help him survive, but it did endow him with luck. Like, in spades. This means that Bob is one lucky son of a bitch. It’s like there’s an aura around him that causes his enemies to sometimes make unexplainable mistakes while allowing Bob and his allies to get out of some tough situations. (The negative effects are left to the opponent to rp or ignore, the positive effects are rather minor like tripping on a rock and dodging an arrow, for example).
Sword Mega-mastery – Bob has above average skills with swords.
Strong as an ox – Bob is about as strong as an ox.
History:
Bob was an unwanted child of a hundred bastards. His mother was a hooker and his father was one of the thousand customers she served in her time. He knows name of neither since his mother left him in an orphanage the very day she gave birth to him. Both of his parents probably died anyways in some violent manner. It was a tough life in the beginning for Bob, fighting over moldy bread crusts and sleeping under threadbare blankets. Bob likes to say that those days made him into the tough motherfucker he is today, but in all truth he doesn’t remember much from those days since he got hit in the head a lot back then.
At fifteen he left the orphanage to join a mercenary group that was passing though the town. They turned the boy down, saying he’s not old enough, no skilled enough, too dumb, but Bob stubbornly followed the group like a flea on a cow’s butt. No matter how much they wanted to swat him away, he just kept coming back. This chase culminated with the mercenary group falling into an ambush made by some bandits. Bob naturally came to the rescue. He charged into the bandit camp, swinging a half-rotten tree branch and yelling like a crazy person only to find everybody in the camp dead. Apparently the mercenary group tried to break free and they got into a fight with the bandits. Nobody came out of the fight alive. Scouring the remains of his “brethren” and their fallen foes, Bob retrieved the Sword of Ownage and the Plate Mail of Ages, two items he uses even to this day.
Now properly equipped, it was easier for Bob to find employment. He spent his next ten years between mercenary groups, earning a couple of coins here and there. He likes to think that he had led an adventurous life, but in all truth most of the jobs he either screwed up or got very little money out of. That was why, when he heard of the tournament on Keribas, Bob knew it was time. It was time for Bob to meet Bob’s destiny and be all that he could be. Even if that wasn’t very much.
Age: 26
Sex: Yes, please
Height: 6’4’’
Weight: 250 lbs
Hair Colour: Blonde and spiky and long
Eye Colour: Baby blue
Occupation: General of asskickery
Personality:
Bob is a swell guy. He’s the guy that men want to be and women want to do and animals generally like. Unless they’re like rabid. He’s also a good guy, very nice and polite despite his tough upbringing and years spent in the gutters of the world. He’s the kind of a guy that buys strangers drinks and innocently flirts with waitresses. Bob is also pretty dumb. He’s definitely not the sharpest tool in the shed. In fact, he’s probably not even in the shed. But what he lacks in the brain department, he makes up with effort.
Appearance:
Bob is hot. Well, at least females think so once they see his perfectly sculptured body that looks like a statue of some man-god of old. His hair is long and blonde and shiny and his eyes are awesome and stunning, keen enough to cut through a melon, but soft enough to sweep the chicks off their feet. He is tall and broad in the shoulders, very muscular and is so hung that it’s like ridiculous. Seriously, he can’t wear shorts.
Weapons:
“Sword of Ownage”– This sword is awesome. It’s ridiculously huge, almost as big as Bob. It’s made of super-mega-awesome alloy that Bob believes came out of a fallen asteroid and is indestructible. It’s actually simple, red-tinted steel. Bob calls this sword simply “Sword”, because “Sword of Ownage” is hard to pronounce when he’s swinging it into someone’s face.
Armour:
“Plate Mail of the Ages” – This full plate mail really is awesome, though Bob doesn’t think so. He doesn’t like the black color of it (it doesn’t go well with his hair and eyes) and he thinks it slows him down. In truth, this prevalida armor is probably the only reason why Bob is still alive to this day.
Skills and Abilities:
If you gonna be dumb, you better be tough – Bob may be as intelligent as a monkey, but he’s tough as nails. Partially because of his hard upbringing and partially because of the dangerous life he leads, Bob is pretty damn resistant to damage. It takes about three times as much damage to bring him down (meaning he can lose about three times more blood than a normal human before collapsing, or taking three times more bludgeoning damage before he passes out).
Born under a dumb star – Mother Nature failed to grant Bob decent intellect that would help him survive, but it did endow him with luck. Like, in spades. This means that Bob is one lucky son of a bitch. It’s like there’s an aura around him that causes his enemies to sometimes make unexplainable mistakes while allowing Bob and his allies to get out of some tough situations. (The negative effects are left to the opponent to rp or ignore, the positive effects are rather minor like tripping on a rock and dodging an arrow, for example).
Sword Mega-mastery – Bob has above average skills with swords.
Strong as an ox – Bob is about as strong as an ox.
History:
Bob was an unwanted child of a hundred bastards. His mother was a hooker and his father was one of the thousand customers she served in her time. He knows name of neither since his mother left him in an orphanage the very day she gave birth to him. Both of his parents probably died anyways in some violent manner. It was a tough life in the beginning for Bob, fighting over moldy bread crusts and sleeping under threadbare blankets. Bob likes to say that those days made him into the tough motherfucker he is today, but in all truth he doesn’t remember much from those days since he got hit in the head a lot back then.
At fifteen he left the orphanage to join a mercenary group that was passing though the town. They turned the boy down, saying he’s not old enough, no skilled enough, too dumb, but Bob stubbornly followed the group like a flea on a cow’s butt. No matter how much they wanted to swat him away, he just kept coming back. This chase culminated with the mercenary group falling into an ambush made by some bandits. Bob naturally came to the rescue. He charged into the bandit camp, swinging a half-rotten tree branch and yelling like a crazy person only to find everybody in the camp dead. Apparently the mercenary group tried to break free and they got into a fight with the bandits. Nobody came out of the fight alive. Scouring the remains of his “brethren” and their fallen foes, Bob retrieved the Sword of Ownage and the Plate Mail of Ages, two items he uses even to this day.
Now properly equipped, it was easier for Bob to find employment. He spent his next ten years between mercenary groups, earning a couple of coins here and there. He likes to think that he had led an adventurous life, but in all truth most of the jobs he either screwed up or got very little money out of. That was why, when he heard of the tournament on Keribas, Bob knew it was time. It was time for Bob to meet Bob’s destiny and be all that he could be. Even if that wasn’t very much.