DarterityRace: Half Elf
Age: 40, Looks mid 20's.
6 ft (1.8m) tall.
~175 lbs
Darterity is the product of a beautiful, graceful elf maiden falling for a cunning, rough and tumble human. As such his features are a mix of the immaculateness of the elves, and the hardness of a human. Humans find this very appealing, and Darterity quickly found he could get his way with a smile and a wink. He has long, light blonde hair which is typically tied back in a few braids draped over his shoulders. His hair reaches down pas his shoulder blades when in braids. In more casual settings, he enjoys to take out the braids and let his hair down. It is straight and rarely catches a knot. Often, a hapless barmaid can be seen combing his flowing locks as he enjoys an ale. Another victim to his boyish charm.
His eyes are a striking blue. There is a twinkle in them that gives away his rapscallion nature. They never seem to miss a thing. In fact Darterity often surprises others in conversation by calling them out on shifty behavior or any sleight of hand they might try and pull.
The mix of his parents gave him a lithe, flexible elven body mixed with the musculature of a human. A very appealing mix. Some would call him graceful, if not for his rough nature. He stands tall, and walks with a purpose, even if he is merely walking to the bar for another ale. Subtlety and shadows are not his style. Not at all. When he enters a room people know it. His laugh is boisterous and loud and his smile is contagious. Even in dire situations Darterity refuses to be serious, offering a jab with his words even when his hands are tied.
His favorite hat is black with a red cloth tied around the base. The brim is folded up on both sides, and a white feather juts from the top. It is rare to see him without it. Indeed, his favorite colors are black and red. Most attire that he owns is tailored in these two colors. He never wears a cape, as they're for
sissies .
Armor:Darterity wears a studded grey leather tunic with red stitching. The shoulder pads are curved pieces iron that sit atop soft leather. The Jolly Roger is painted in black on both pieces of iron. He keeps the shoulder pads meticulously polished, despite the scratches and many dents adorning them. The sleeves of the tunic are black. The studs in his armor are also polished iron. They are arranged in a cross hatching pattern across his chest and back.
He wears tight grey leather gloves that reach his elbow. These also have red stitching. The forearm and wrist of the right glove is reinforced with iron plates and rods. There is a clasp that tightens to immobilize and reinforce his wrist when necessary. The left glove has a winding red vine stitched into it at the seam.
Black leather pants, also with red stitching, cover his legs.
His boots are, you guess it, black and grey leather with red stitching. They are tipped with iron at the toe and heel. The boots go so high as to cover his knees, with iron studs protruding from his knee caps. The bottom section covering his feet are black, and the part stretching up to cover his legs and knees are grey.
Any piece of metal on his armor is always polished and shining. He hates nothing more than to get his boots dirty. As such he prefers being in the open air, away from all of that mud and dust...
Weapons:A leather belt hangs at his waist. On the right is a holster holding a flintlock pistol. A pouch split into two sections filled with powder and bullets sits beside the holster. The flintlock is polished and shining. The holster matches the rest of his outfit.
On the left of his belt is a sheathed scimitar for close quarter fighting.
A small buckler is strapped to his back, about a foot and a half wide. It is red, with a Jolly Roger painted in black stretching the diameter. He wields his scimitar with his left hand and attaches the buckler to the reinforced forearm of his right glove. The reinforced glove makes it easier to deflect blows with the buckler. This also keeps his right hand free to quickly draw his flintlock when necessary.
Next to the flintlock is a slingshot, tucked into his belt. A bag of two inch diameter bombs sits next to it. These have a wick and need to be lit before being tossed or shot out of the slingshot. He also shoots bullets from the slingshot when a diversion or a quick knockout is desired. And of course, a nearby pebble can be used as ammo in a pinch.
When firing his pistol or slingshot he tightens the clasp on his right glove. This improves his aim with both and allows him to shoot farther with the slingshot. Also, a punch thrown with the clasp tightened packs a little more
oomph than it would normally.
Of course, there is always a dagger hidden on his body somewhere. "Never too careful," Darterity would say, with a wink.
Skills:Darterity, being a half elf, has had a rough time of things. Regardless of his charm and good looks, there are some that disapprove of his heritage. As such, he has become quick witted and quick on his feet. His charisma can easily diffuse a tense situation. When encountering a exceptionally sour individual that isn't susceptible to his charm Darterity relies upon his quick feet to kick some tail.
Although he looks like a young man, he has 40 years of experience. He has dabbled in many things, learning how to fight with a sword and how to fire a gun. His attention has always drifted off to some pretty lass or bottle before learning
too much about the martial arts, unfortunately. Being a jokester at heart, he has carried a slingshot since he could walk. As an adult he finds it quite useful as a weapon. He has the timing of the wicks on his little bombs down to a T.
Being a Half Elf he is gifted with a supernatural sense. In Darterity's case it is sight. This gives him a slight advantage when flying or firing a ranged weapon.
Yes, flying. Most recently he has been cavorting with a band of sky pirates. He is tasked with flying one of their agile dog fighting planes. Not the best pilot, by any means. Although he is certainly capable and is learning by the day.
Recent History:The life of a sky pirate is an interesting one. At least Darterity thought so. Being so high in the air was tricky getting used to, but that is where the fun lies. Don't mistake his intentions, mind you. A full pub with flirty barmaids and a game of dice were Darterity's element. But as enjoyable as they were, they were equally as expensive. Being hard up for money and too
proud for honest work left little options for a man such as himself.
When a band of pirates tore through town Darterity was the first to meet them. Not with a weapon raised, no, a thumb. A thumb and a sly grin that caused a line to be tossed down. With a flourish, Darterity jumped onto the rope and quickly hoisted himself aboard. After brief introductions he was put to work.
It was later that night that he bested Horatio, "The champ," at a drinking contest. After that he was part of the crew, fer keeps. He cavorted with them for a time. In fact it was from their pillaging sprees that Darterity accumulated all of is prized armor and weapons. Save for the slingshot of course. He would always catch some flak for his fancy duds, but a quick retort or a pebble zipping by someones head shut them up right quick.
Soon he was flying one of the smaller, quicker crafts. The Kamikazes, as the crew called them. Take one shot and you were toast, so you had to be quick and aware. Darterity turned out to have the devil's luck, or so it seemed. But he knew it was his superior eyesight that gave him an upper hand.
Then one day his luck ran out. It ran out for most of the crew he was with.
In a dogfight, Darterity lost his mark. The other pilot was too quick and Darterity was too hung over to follow him. His wing was hit with a round of bullets, shredding it. Wood, metal and vomit fell to the ground below.
"Damn you, Horatio... Uuuggghhhh..."
Darterity's craft fell to the ground. He was out of the fight, and out of his lunch. The caravan pilot pursued another of the pirate planes, leaving the drunk to his fate. Somehow, in a haze, Darterity leveled out his plane enough to
not die in the crash that ensued. The devil's luck indeed...
As he crept out from the debris he saw the main pirate ship crashing towards a mountain, smoke billowing out of it. There went his ride, and his friends... And his MONEY! All he had was what he carried into battle.
A road sign toppled over, having been uprooted in his ace landing.
"Misthaven, *Hic* Ne'er been there, eh?"
On wobbly legs he began walking towards the grandest city he's ever seen, or even ever heard of, or somethin. Hic.
Darterity doodles while bored at meetings today, wasn't even attempting to draw his pretty boy face:
