Mavek
01-11-09, 07:58 PM
Name: Mavek, Last of the Ghostwolf Tribe
Age: 19
Race: Human
Hair Color: Black
Eye Color: Amber
Height: 6’3”
Weight: 223 lbs
Occupation: Hunter / Trapper
Personality: Mavek, due to his background and the culture in which he was raised, is extremely self-reliant and untrusting. Strong, calm, confident, and all-but-mute, the huntsman rarely speaks to those he considers to be “civilized”, preferring to associate with the wilder aspects of the world. Extremely comfortable in his own skin, lacking any form of shame or fear, Mavek is a true paragon of the Ghostwolf culture – as he must be, now that he is the last surviving member of his tribe. This affinity for the untamed, unkempt, pristine facets of life tends to give Mavek an awkwardness in more modernized life that cannot be hidden or obscured.
Appearance: To be such a young man, the last surviving Ghostwolf is large – well, perhaps huge is a better word – for a human. At only nineteen years of age he is already of a greater height, girth, and musculature than most members of the other demihuman races, all due to his utterly pure lineage. By no means would Mavek be the largest, strongest, or fastest of his people if more of them were still extant, but among the peoples of other cultures he is a true monolith of flesh and bone; an Adonis-like figure of power and agility. Coppery-bronze skin, both inherited and granted from time spent in the sun, enshrouds muscles that slide and glide like steel cords beneath a wrapping of silk, showing every line and detail of his riveted and cut physique. Raven-black locks of unwashed hair are shorn just below shoulder length, tied behind his head in a loose ponytail, the few midnight bangs framing a square-jawed, masculine, and youthfully hairless face. A hearty loincloth made from a bear’s hide commonly covers his unmentionables, boots of similar material – perhaps even wolfskin – wrapped about his shins up to his knees. Even with most of skin bared, Mavek carries himself with nothing but the most unadulterated confidence, amber eyes meeting the questioning gazes of others without a hesitant blink.
History: The true history of the Ghostwolf tribe died with the last of their lorekeepers, as well as what location upon Althanas the group of nomadic savages actually called “home” – if there even was one. A group cloaked in mystery and veiled in legend, however, always leaves a trail of myths and stories wherever it goes, and the infamous “beautiful savages” are no exception. A song is still hummed by the odd tavern-crawler or the obscure trapper, heard from a lone hunter that travels Althanas without a name. At one time it was still sung in the tribal tongue, but at some point a world-weary soul changed it over to that of a more common language. This is how it goes…
There was a tree, the only tree,
The Father of All the Ages,
More wisdom did its branches hold
Than the hearts of all the sages.
Upon the first Autumn’s dawn
The Grandfather Tree did weep,
Its sacred leaves falling down
And its acorns laying seed.
This is how The Man was formed,
The very son of the Spirit.
Grandfather Oak told him all
And The Man was made to hear it.
From this, the purest source, did
The Ghostwolf spring, learning all
The Spirit of the Great Tree
Could teach in just one Fall.
Winter came a thousand years,
And the Father Oak of old
Gave away his own spirit
So his sons could brave the cold.
Without the guidance of the Oak
His children began to wander.
Upon the things of civil life
Their culture, their life would squander.
In time The Man’s blood grew too thin;
His people he could not lead.
Through the maze of metal, stone
Their spirits the Ghosts would bleed.
In a final cry of pain,
In his infinite wisdom,
Grandfather’s Oak’s dying spirit
Invoked his ancient dominion.
No longer would the Ghostwolf be,
No more would they travel the land,
Their race destroyed in whole by
Their furious god’s righteous hand.
Now only one remains,
The planter of the timeless seed;
Only one Ghostwolf remains,
The Last Man of his breed.
Forever must he walk this land,
Eternally he is bound,
Until the Heart and Soul of
His people can once more be found.
Skills:
A Hunter Born, a Hunter Bred: Mavek is, above all things, a hunter – just as his people were before him. He is an excellent tracker and survivalist, able to weather the wilds of Althanas with an almost innate sense of direction and time-tested knowledge of the habits and natures of prey.
Savage: Being unused to civilized culture comes with a laundry list of downsides, but there are a few very prominent benefits. One of those is the ability to handle combat without the need for metal armor of fancy swordplay. Mavek is easily as competent in combat as the average swordsman using his favored weapons: a stone-tipped spear, a skinning knife made of antler bone, and a steel-bladed tomahawk.
Animal Sense: Living alone, traveling the world under the lifestyle of what most would consider a barbarian, Mavek has come to rely on his sixth sense just as much as his others. In no way is Mavek psionic, nor does he possess any true magic, but his reflexes are sharper than even his handaxe’s edge, giving him the advantage he needs to survive in nature.
Pure Lineage: The Ghostwolf tribe ceremoniously chose which of the children their tribeswomen birthed would be allowed to live, no flaws, defects, or questionable lineage allowed in the small and exclusive culture. Mavek was no different. The epitome of health, size, and build, the huntsman is ( 1.5x ) faster and more agile than a man his age and fitness should be – which is saying something. He is, if anything, as purebred of an athlete and a warrior as a prize racehorse was bred for speed.
Equipment:
Spear of the Grandfather Oak: A wooden spear approximately seven feet in length, tipped with a sharpened stone end. Supposedly crafted from one of the Great Oak Spirit’s fallen branches, it is much sturdier than the average wooden spear.
Skinning Knife: Mavek possesses a small knife, about a foot total in length, carved from a deer’s antler.
Tomahawk: A handaxe, for both melee combat and throwing, wrapped in ceremonious leather strings and beads up and down its haft. The blade is made of a piece of a steel shield, beaten and sharpened into appropriate dimensions for a weapon of its ilk.
Age: 19
Race: Human
Hair Color: Black
Eye Color: Amber
Height: 6’3”
Weight: 223 lbs
Occupation: Hunter / Trapper
Personality: Mavek, due to his background and the culture in which he was raised, is extremely self-reliant and untrusting. Strong, calm, confident, and all-but-mute, the huntsman rarely speaks to those he considers to be “civilized”, preferring to associate with the wilder aspects of the world. Extremely comfortable in his own skin, lacking any form of shame or fear, Mavek is a true paragon of the Ghostwolf culture – as he must be, now that he is the last surviving member of his tribe. This affinity for the untamed, unkempt, pristine facets of life tends to give Mavek an awkwardness in more modernized life that cannot be hidden or obscured.
Appearance: To be such a young man, the last surviving Ghostwolf is large – well, perhaps huge is a better word – for a human. At only nineteen years of age he is already of a greater height, girth, and musculature than most members of the other demihuman races, all due to his utterly pure lineage. By no means would Mavek be the largest, strongest, or fastest of his people if more of them were still extant, but among the peoples of other cultures he is a true monolith of flesh and bone; an Adonis-like figure of power and agility. Coppery-bronze skin, both inherited and granted from time spent in the sun, enshrouds muscles that slide and glide like steel cords beneath a wrapping of silk, showing every line and detail of his riveted and cut physique. Raven-black locks of unwashed hair are shorn just below shoulder length, tied behind his head in a loose ponytail, the few midnight bangs framing a square-jawed, masculine, and youthfully hairless face. A hearty loincloth made from a bear’s hide commonly covers his unmentionables, boots of similar material – perhaps even wolfskin – wrapped about his shins up to his knees. Even with most of skin bared, Mavek carries himself with nothing but the most unadulterated confidence, amber eyes meeting the questioning gazes of others without a hesitant blink.
History: The true history of the Ghostwolf tribe died with the last of their lorekeepers, as well as what location upon Althanas the group of nomadic savages actually called “home” – if there even was one. A group cloaked in mystery and veiled in legend, however, always leaves a trail of myths and stories wherever it goes, and the infamous “beautiful savages” are no exception. A song is still hummed by the odd tavern-crawler or the obscure trapper, heard from a lone hunter that travels Althanas without a name. At one time it was still sung in the tribal tongue, but at some point a world-weary soul changed it over to that of a more common language. This is how it goes…
There was a tree, the only tree,
The Father of All the Ages,
More wisdom did its branches hold
Than the hearts of all the sages.
Upon the first Autumn’s dawn
The Grandfather Tree did weep,
Its sacred leaves falling down
And its acorns laying seed.
This is how The Man was formed,
The very son of the Spirit.
Grandfather Oak told him all
And The Man was made to hear it.
From this, the purest source, did
The Ghostwolf spring, learning all
The Spirit of the Great Tree
Could teach in just one Fall.
Winter came a thousand years,
And the Father Oak of old
Gave away his own spirit
So his sons could brave the cold.
Without the guidance of the Oak
His children began to wander.
Upon the things of civil life
Their culture, their life would squander.
In time The Man’s blood grew too thin;
His people he could not lead.
Through the maze of metal, stone
Their spirits the Ghosts would bleed.
In a final cry of pain,
In his infinite wisdom,
Grandfather’s Oak’s dying spirit
Invoked his ancient dominion.
No longer would the Ghostwolf be,
No more would they travel the land,
Their race destroyed in whole by
Their furious god’s righteous hand.
Now only one remains,
The planter of the timeless seed;
Only one Ghostwolf remains,
The Last Man of his breed.
Forever must he walk this land,
Eternally he is bound,
Until the Heart and Soul of
His people can once more be found.
Skills:
A Hunter Born, a Hunter Bred: Mavek is, above all things, a hunter – just as his people were before him. He is an excellent tracker and survivalist, able to weather the wilds of Althanas with an almost innate sense of direction and time-tested knowledge of the habits and natures of prey.
Savage: Being unused to civilized culture comes with a laundry list of downsides, but there are a few very prominent benefits. One of those is the ability to handle combat without the need for metal armor of fancy swordplay. Mavek is easily as competent in combat as the average swordsman using his favored weapons: a stone-tipped spear, a skinning knife made of antler bone, and a steel-bladed tomahawk.
Animal Sense: Living alone, traveling the world under the lifestyle of what most would consider a barbarian, Mavek has come to rely on his sixth sense just as much as his others. In no way is Mavek psionic, nor does he possess any true magic, but his reflexes are sharper than even his handaxe’s edge, giving him the advantage he needs to survive in nature.
Pure Lineage: The Ghostwolf tribe ceremoniously chose which of the children their tribeswomen birthed would be allowed to live, no flaws, defects, or questionable lineage allowed in the small and exclusive culture. Mavek was no different. The epitome of health, size, and build, the huntsman is ( 1.5x ) faster and more agile than a man his age and fitness should be – which is saying something. He is, if anything, as purebred of an athlete and a warrior as a prize racehorse was bred for speed.
Equipment:
Spear of the Grandfather Oak: A wooden spear approximately seven feet in length, tipped with a sharpened stone end. Supposedly crafted from one of the Great Oak Spirit’s fallen branches, it is much sturdier than the average wooden spear.
Skinning Knife: Mavek possesses a small knife, about a foot total in length, carved from a deer’s antler.
Tomahawk: A handaxe, for both melee combat and throwing, wrapped in ceremonious leather strings and beads up and down its haft. The blade is made of a piece of a steel shield, beaten and sharpened into appropriate dimensions for a weapon of its ilk.