Dugal Rosetta

Name: Dugal Rosetta

Age: 35

Species: Imperial

Zodiac: Thief

Description:
He also has a dis-assembled crossbow on him, its parts where they would fit best.

Profession: Mercenary

Class: Shadow Walker

Skills:
Blade: 30
Marksman: 35
Sneak: 35
Block: 25
Hand-to-hand: 30
Light Armor: 35
Acrobatics: 35

Attributes:

Strength: 40
Intelligence: 40
Willpower: 30
Agility: 40
Speed: 50
Endurance: 40
Luck: 60
Personality: 50

Starting spells/abilities: These will be given to you

History: Dugal was born in a small village that had never been named. This nameless village was where Dugal learned how to fight and hunt, since many men were sent into the world as Mercenaries to prove themselves. Even as a small boy, despite not being stronger or more durable then other boys in his village, he almost always won the various fights he got into, through guile and speed, wearing them down and knocking them into the dirt. This had caught the attention of one Village Elder, who had, unlike his fellow councilmen, completed his trials with similiar traits. He agreed to train the boy in the arts of a Shadow Walker, a little known art that only a handful, to the Elder's knowladge, knew of.

The first thing the Elder showed Dugal was that he was not going to be using a dagger or other weapon suited to his thoughts on this type of training, but a broadsword. The sword he trained with was unique, in the fact it was balanced to be handled in a backwards grip and relied on little strength, using the speed and agility of its user to increase its damage. His training, starting at the age of Eight, ended at the age of Sixteen, when he was cast out of the village to make his way in the world. He lifted his sword from the armory, forbidden normally, and a crossbow that was unclaimed as well. Heading out, he quickly learned of the major guilds and avoided them all. He wasnt going to get drawn into there politics and hatreds, and stayed stricly buisness, doing what the gold he was payed said, and little more unless it warrented his gain or survival. Within the first four years, he had made a quiet name for himself as a deadly competent agent of the highest bidder.

This changed with the botched attempt to kill him by a small Lord who had lost his wife to Dugal's bolt. He rallied his local troops and several Knights sent by the Lords master to show he cared, and set off into the woods where some people had reported him fleeing after the hit. The loud hooves and clank of heavy armor warned of there approach long before they got near Dugal's resting place, and he set an ambush. As the warband passed under him, the Lord following at the rear, he dropped down on his horse, driving his reverse blade into the spot between the armor on his torso and his helmet, silencing him instantly. The horse kept moving, unnoticing the weight of the extra man, and Dugal leapt into the bushes beside the road. A few minutes later, shouting was heard as the Lord fell off his horse, apparently dead without cause.

By the time they found the stab wound, a loose lipped soldier had told a local merchant the tale. This spread like wildfire, of Dugal's seemingly supernatural ability to kill without being present. This was nothing more than a elaborate lie, but he said nothing for or against it. You couldnt buy this type of advertisment. He still restricted his work to those who were in real need of it, and not some petty warmonger who was looking for a quick fix to his problems. Drifting between contracts, he returned to his village and recieved a warm welcome as a man of the village. Politely declining the offer of a home and wife, having gotten too used to rambling around the world, the Elder who had taught him defended him, stating his path did not end here. Whether he was helping a fellow man, or knew something else, he did not know. So he left the village again, and spent up until his thirty-fifth birthday roaming. Now it seems he is seeking something out, and whispers between knowing drunks gossiped about what he was seeking, but only he knew.