
Name: Fyn Kalim
Race: Inarta (Human/Eagle Rider)
Gender: Male
Birthday: Sometime during the spring, the exact day has fallen lost to him, and his mother alike as they had never
owned an actual calendar, of any sort.
Fyn appears to be your typical Inarta male, reaching 5 foot and 11 inches from the sole of his boot to his crown.
and squaring his weight at a rough 140 pounds. In other words, he's a rather average height and petite build.
His hair, unlike most other Inarta who are more savy than most in terms of hair decoration, is rather plain.
A touch of auburn caresses his naturally brown hair which is cropped neatly 'pon his head. His arms are adorned
in runic tattoos that symbolize the virtues his family were supposed to have followed, but have long since lost
their moral value, creating more of an aesthetic measure for Fyn. His eyes are a deep pool of gold, flecked with green
towards the actual iris, his ties to the ancients are unknown to him, along with much of his family history, such is the way
with the Inarta's, anyhows. His choice of clothing is also a bit different from that of his kin. A simple leather breast plate
covers his vitals in a hardened hide casing along with a Shoulder covering that latches his quiver to his breast plate with a
series of knots and buckles. It's ideal for when he's in flight or when he's mobile and needs as much stability in his quiver
as this mechanism allows. His feet are covered in a very soft leather riding boot, seen mainly on horse riders, as it allows
extreme foot mobility in a harness and also provides a great deal of assistance in hunting. When his footwork is carefully
calculated and deadly silent. The loose fitting pants that his race is so famously known for is present, though they are not as flowing
as to be mistaken for a skirt, by any means. On the contrary, they flow, just separately, this is ensured by a series of leather ties.
This allows him to keep track of his feet while in hot pursuit of his prey. You wouldn't want your fancy dress getting in the way of your kill, now would you?
Concept:
As shown above
Personality: Fyn would be called a bit 'High-strung', no pun intended. He dabbles in scholarly behaviors, using the knowledge
written in tomes and scrolls to hone his hunting prowess. He believes in trial and error, of course, as he usually takes his learnings
to a range or the wild itself. There's nothing better than results. Results earned through fierce training and dedication is where Fyn
draws his strength. He sees everything in black and white, there are do's and don'ts, obviously, but there are no shades of gray with him.
It is because of this he may seem a bit more cold and distanced than most but on occasion he show's shows minor cases of tenderheartedness.
Tirelessly working towards the day where he gains ultimate knowledge of all things hunting and trapping, him and his Mount Kalim trot the globe
in search of forbidden fruits the world has lost in Mizahar's wake.
Morals: Fyn has one Moral, and it is the one he abides all his actions by: Knowledge is power, Power is reassurance, reassurance is bliss.
He will do anything to acquire knowledge, mainly dealing with his own lifestyle and how he chooses to survive. However, there is no limitation in knowledge
and thusly, he will be more than willing to partake in anything where a fruit of wisdom may be offered.
Likes: Nature. Most of his time is spent outdoors, either testing the chemical balances/imbalances of plants or hunting and trapping for meats and furs.
Kalim, his trusty mount. His 'Wishy Washy': What he refers to the cloth he uses to wipe his Glasses. Peace, and by peace he doesn't mean world tranquility,
he means quiet. Music. The man is quite fond of a fair tune.
Dislikes: Loud. Obnoxious people. Arrogant people. Terrible smells. Malnutrition. Disease. Poverty. All those pesky problems that are most generate by human
error.
History: Well. Fyn was raised by his single mother, who's occupational choice was to be a fletcher for the Endal's of the Inarta race. He arrows were said
to sail upon the wind as elegantly as the eagle they so often revered. Fyn never knew his father, and to be quite honest, never cared much to ask his mother
for details. Their 'Mother-and-son' relationship was often tried during Fyn's upbringing, he was a witty delinquent in his youth. It served him as both a blessing
and a curse. A blessing in that his mischief as a child had led to great places in means of dexterity and drastically improved his sleight of hand. However it was a
curse in that he led a life he was doomed to live alone. The way he had conducted himself as a child into his teenage years had made it almost impossible for
him to gain any friends or acquaintances of any sort. He hadn't minded, for the most part. Such relationships were a distraction in his eyes, a means to a very
abrupt end. That wasn't something this man had ever held high enough to even deem relevant his daily living. There were no tragic stories of how his mother died,
and led him into a blood thirsty fit, or how she never hugged him and it caused him to be bitter and what-not. Fyn is relatively young, and basks in the acceptance
of his mother. She's proud of the man he's sought out to become, and she encourages him on his every whim. The basis of his upbringing weren't a dark one, and his
lust for power isn't to bring an end to the world. It's solely a purpose he had set for himself and means to complete.
Childhood (Specifics): Fyn was a rather troublesome child, a rouge at best was the only way to describe how he had been brought up. His ruffian qualities may have been
brought bout by his lack of a father figure, however, had that been the case, Fyn would have never made it known. Known as his generation's "Most Likely to Fail" case, Fyn
was never held in high regards by the people that knew him. He never committed a murder, but he was far from innocent in all that he did. Examples of his childhood escapades
were occasions where he would break an entering into buildings that required knowledge that were undisclosed to the public, or where he would pickpocket a set of keys used
to get into a treasury, where he stole multiple miscellaneous items. This built his dexterity, however. His hand and footwork became so fluent that his natural weapon, the Bow,
seemed almost effortless to him. The fluidity of the drawstring, the wind, and his fingers was so unwavering that he had earned the nickname "Sureshot", though he never embraced
it with recognition.
Skills:
Falconry: 10/100 (RB+10)
Longbow: 30/100 (RB+10+SP+20)
Philtering: 10/100 (SP+10)
Hunting: 10/100 (SP+10)
Wilderness Survival: 10/100 (SP+10)
EQUIPTMENt:
1 Simple Black Cloak
1 Hawkfeather Adorned Coat
1 Soft Leather Riders Boots
1 Waterskin
1 Backpack Which contains:
-Toiletries
-1 Week of Food
-1 Eating Knife
-1 Flint and Steel
FAMILY HEIRLOOM:
He doesn't own much in means of an heirloom, but for what it's worth, he does in fact have a particular arrangement of 3 Hawk Feathers that was braided into the hair just above
his left eye. This serves as a visor from the sun which makes for a much easier mark. It was made for him by his mother using the plumes of her fathers eagle that were given to her
in a necklace that was then disassembled to make the contraption Fyn now uses for hunting.
MONIES:
100 Gold Rimmed Mizas
Housing:
Kalim's Retreat
(A small cave entrance at the peak of a secluded mountain which offers little comfort, but this is more than enough for this lone ranger.)
LORES:
Creation/Bow & Arrow Fletching
Deciphering/Language Expert
Languages:
Fluent: Common Tongue
Basic: Eagle Language
Poor: None
LEDGER:
NO CURRENT BILLS OF SALE!
THREAD LIST:
TO BE ANNOUNCED