Gender: Male
Hair Color: Ashen grey/black
Eye Color: Emerald green.
Creature: Shape-shifter (Beast/man hybrid, technically demi-god.)
Picture:
Forgive the stylization, closest images to what I had in mind. Likely to be retcon'd at a later date for accuracy. Also please ignore any era-inappropriate attire and equipment as it will not be present in roleplay.
True Form; vulpine:
Commonly Used Form; panther:
Most importantly, these images are Not my artwork. Used merely for general reference.
Attire:
Constantly overdressed to hide his actual appearance, a full length cape over one shoulder down to his calves, boots with armored shins and calves to cover his digitigrade legs, a waistcape that hangs from belt-line to knees to obscure the deformity of his legs and tail beside others. Dressed in noticeably armored leather and the like from neck to waist, as well as from shoulders to hands, gloves covering his clawed fingers. A hood, part of the cape cover most of his backside, also laying Well over his head, a strange mask over his long face, usually with his nose tucked down and looking upwards as to give the illusion of a flatter face, the mask creased right in the middle, and rounded smoothly out to either side, fine slots removed to see through from near the expected eye positions, well out to the sides to give good peripheral. (Kind of like this Mask )
Weapons:
Primarily bow, healthy reserve of assorted knives.
Rank: Assassin.
Background:
Artyom is the b*****d offspring of an anonymous god in animal form, and a human who found companionship in that creature. The result was a child with vulpine form and much like one of his parents, the ability to change form. Of course with the possibility of being scorned for such union, and the child killed or sacrificed for just the same, he was hidden away and raised away from the scornful eyes of mortals. His mortal parent of course harbored the maternal feelings many parents would, even to a social burden as indicative as him.
Raised far from the growth of man made cities and villages, the wilderness of Thrace was a fitting home and training ground for the physically inhuman shapeshifter. Learning to hunt and survive in the remote forest and valleys that rested beneath the Rhodope mountains, his skills with both a bow and knife were honed quite naturally. His ability to shift form came as a surprise at first, but also grew swiftly into a tool, a favorite for getting in close to prey. Though far away from the reaches of the average man, travelers still infrequently wandered through the lands he called home, and the one instance that veered his path towards violence had been the upset long feared by his mortal parent.
Hunted as though he was indeed the animal he had taken the visage of, the shapeshifter had narrowly escaped, an arrow in his haunch and broken ribs from a diligent slinger. His return home had left the bloody trail needed for his hunters to track him down. Their surprise was clear when they came across the humble abode tucked into the forest. They approached cautiously, seeing the mortal parent and warning them of the approaching beast. Acting unawares, the hunters were waved inside for respite and refreshments. But the mortal parent was not one to let the assault of their child go unpunished. In plain sight of the shapeshifter, the first hunter died of a brutal knife to the side of the neck, before his partner was cudgeled to death with the nearest simple tool.
The hunters could never be allowed to take tale of their hunts back to the rest of the world, nor be allowed to hunt in lands they had claimed and lived from for so long. The lesson most deeply impressed upon the shapeshifter though was the hate and violence that would be pursued upon him if he was exposed to mortal men and their mistrust of the inhuman. His next, gruesome lesson was the dismantling of the human corpses. His parents' candor was what stunned him most at first. But his injuries rubbed the point home. These simple men had tried to kill him merely for sport. What would they do if they had known what he really was?
And so the years passed, and ambition grew, the inexorable want to venture and explore, meet the joys and dangers of the world that lay beyond their remote land. And eventually indeed, if not slightly under prepared, the shapeshifter began out into the world, leaving his remote home behind and his aging parent to live in peaceful solitude, though he would doubtless bring back many things, both verbal and physical to the land he called home one day.
Many years more had wizened the shapeshifter to the world that had lain beyond. greed, violence, hunger, intolerance, and the many other dark nuances of the men who his parent had duely warned him about. The pleasures of the mortal world were boundless to him, in all the senses he could experience them, but he was ever wary of the lessons learned in his travels about the persecution of his difference. Though being part mortal himself, the pleasure taken in acts of malevolence did not fail in him. Killing those who harmed others out of spite or intolerance, brought him considerable comfort and even a twisted sort of joy.
One less mark upon the mortal world. Though to get Paid for doing such acts, caught his attention quickly. To have a patron Pay him to deal away with the scum he so disliked, brought him a distinguishable pleasure. By this point in his life, he had adopted an almost permanent form besides his true self, intentionally to mislead any who Did catch his visage. while Able to take human form, and blend in, his features still were skewed, and he felt filthy in such forms as it was that of the ones he had been raised to believe would despise him. The feeling had grown to a sort of mutuality.
Likes:
The simple pleasures in life. Music, Entertainment, Food, Violence. A good knife and a strong bow.
Dislikes:
Mostly mortal mankind, but especially those who take pleasure in or simply abuse others out of intolerance or spite.
Who pulls my strings: Artemis Mcloud
