ZETHCRON
Lord of Altera
Name: Sha'dô Zethcron
Nickname/Alias: Zeth
Age: 27
Gender: Male
Race: Lycan, unrelated to human-kind
Height: 7'1"
Weight: 98kg
Hair: Dark grey and a lighter grey, always ruffled
Eyes: white eyes with bright red iris, right eye is pink or discolored red
Skin: My hair, which I am covered in. FUR :3
Identifying Marks: I am not human, but a lycan, and I carry a smith hammer with a slight tinge of red marking the sign of being used on hot items.
Appearance: I look like a wolf-man to most, but do not mistake me I have no relation to humans. I am always wearing a leather tunic a long with a pair of leather boots and orange goggles; to protect my eyes from bright lights.
Strengths: I am faster and stronger than humans, however, I tend to never show it except when running.
Weaknesses and fears: I am shy, and run away from everyone who is unfamiliar or at least smells unfamiliar. I dread the day that insanity finds its way into my mind, assuming it hasn't already.
Religion and cults: My village never worshiped any gods or deities, at least as far as I know, however they were very knowledgable on the elemental plain, the spirits order, and almost anything relating to the elementals.
Profession: Although, I am rather shy I still love to do my job, which is smithing! I am an master smith, learning, and I have crafted many weapons from simple swords to the complex tridents and the heavy morning-stars.
Backstory: I was just a cub when I first held my smith hammer, it was quite heavy but, nonetheless, I was ecstatic. I made dull weapons and brocken armor pieces at first, then my weapons got sharper and my armor sturdier. But on the day I made my very best weapon forged from the one of the most rare of metals, Void metal, my village was attacked, by its own residents. To this day everyone wonders, "Why would they do that?", and usually come up with a prejudice remark, but the answer is insanity. Yes, not an emotion but still felt, everyone I knew attacked each other and they all laughed when someone would drop dead, they all died smiling but not happy. I was spotted gathering my equipment and was attacked by my own mother, my right eye was cut but only enough to faintly blur my vision and discolor my iris. I had no trouble fighting back, I killed my own mother without hesitation and I ran away from the insanity. I never looked back to that day except when I tell this story. But, to this very day, I fear the day insanity will grab ahold of my mind. I never found out why insanity would have such a strong hold on my people, but I do know that it is only a matter of time until it grabs ahold of me, whether I resist or not.
Nickname/Alias: Zeth
Age: 27
Gender: Male
Race: Lycan, unrelated to human-kind
Height: 7'1"
Weight: 98kg
Hair: Dark grey and a lighter grey, always ruffled
Eyes: white eyes with bright red iris, right eye is pink or discolored red
Skin: My hair, which I am covered in. FUR :3
Identifying Marks: I am not human, but a lycan, and I carry a smith hammer with a slight tinge of red marking the sign of being used on hot items.
Appearance: I look like a wolf-man to most, but do not mistake me I have no relation to humans. I am always wearing a leather tunic a long with a pair of leather boots and orange goggles; to protect my eyes from bright lights.
Strengths: I am faster and stronger than humans, however, I tend to never show it except when running.
Weaknesses and fears: I am shy, and run away from everyone who is unfamiliar or at least smells unfamiliar. I dread the day that insanity finds its way into my mind, assuming it hasn't already.
Religion and cults: My village never worshiped any gods or deities, at least as far as I know, however they were very knowledgable on the elemental plain, the spirits order, and almost anything relating to the elementals.
Profession: Although, I am rather shy I still love to do my job, which is smithing! I am an master smith, learning, and I have crafted many weapons from simple swords to the complex tridents and the heavy morning-stars.
Backstory: I was just a cub when I first held my smith hammer, it was quite heavy but, nonetheless, I was ecstatic. I made dull weapons and brocken armor pieces at first, then my weapons got sharper and my armor sturdier. But on the day I made my very best weapon forged from the one of the most rare of metals, Void metal, my village was attacked, by its own residents. To this day everyone wonders, "Why would they do that?", and usually come up with a prejudice remark, but the answer is insanity. Yes, not an emotion but still felt, everyone I knew attacked each other and they all laughed when someone would drop dead, they all died smiling but not happy. I was spotted gathering my equipment and was attacked by my own mother, my right eye was cut but only enough to faintly blur my vision and discolor my iris. I had no trouble fighting back, I killed my own mother without hesitation and I ran away from the insanity. I never looked back to that day except when I tell this story. But, to this very day, I fear the day insanity will grab ahold of my mind. I never found out why insanity would have such a strong hold on my people, but I do know that it is only a matter of time until it grabs ahold of me, whether I resist or not.
