Name: Loquis 'Loque' Sevanthian
Alias: Black Fang
Age: 31
Race: Tauren elf
Gender: Male
Homeland: The lands of Tauræ
Appearance: His tall and muscular frame is hidden underneath his robes, he has a small scar on is left cheek. He has dark black hair and a carefully trimmed goatee.
Skill Set: He has connections around the country even over seas, which makes him keen on news that is of any importance. His capabilities as in torture rival that of his gift for politics.
Personality: He is clever and will offer his help to all if only to establish a relationship or to gain a favor from someone..
Background: Born under a well known house that controlled the shores of Tauræ. His father was rich man who had his gold in the pockets of every city official. Loque grew in a priveleged life, never wanting nor caring much for others however his mother did a great deal. She was a charitable woman of high born stature and often visited the slums of the city to spread the wealth that she enjoyed, she took no guard with her nor any means of defending herself. One day she ventured into the slums during a horrid outbreak of the red plague, she came home accompanied by her hand maidens they flocked around her fanning her. She coughed and wretched her face a feverish red, the instant Loque's father saw her he recognized the plague. Servants were sent out to find a doctor, a healer, a sorcerer, anyome who could cure her. Rewards were offered but no one dared come near those afflicted by the red plague. Within a number of hours his mother was dead, nothing could have saved her no man nor magic. At seventeen he had lost his mother. 10 years later he had established himself as a capable fighter and politician, he was the city treasurer under his fathers guidance and enjoyed his job. Since his mothers death he had taken up the cause of distributing wealth to those less fortunate, he spent his wealth on things for himself as well as others. One night he slept in his chamber which looked over the seas just outside the city, he was woken at the sound of alarm bells. He sprang from his bed to his balcony, he looked out into the bay and saw lights on the water. He watched as the lights grew larger, the bells wringing still. He grimaced as he realized the lights were not lights but stones coated in flames, the lights struck the walls of the city some flew over the wall and landed in the city. He felt the floor as each struck. He ran from his bed room to his living room and threw open the doors to his armor cabinet. He grabbed his armor and strapped it on his body. He strapped his sheathe to his waste, he brought his sword out and swung it through the air in one hand, he smiled as it reflected light off its blade. He put it back in its sheathe as he reached for his quiver. His hand clasped around embroidered leather strap, he pulled the quiver over his shoulder and heard the arrows in it clink together. He grabbed his longbow and pulled its string back to its full length then slowly let it snap into place. With that Loque left the building and moved onto the street, the city was in ruin buildings burning raiders running about swords and axes drawn. Loque fought his way through the chaos to a secret dock only few smugglers knew of. He had a ship and a crew stationed there, he knew none of them but he knew how much trust to place in a sailor bought by gold. Loque and his crew sailed from the harbor and into the night, careful to keep no light visible. He watched as the city fell, the flames rose illuminating the night sky. He sailed from his homeland with as much gold as his ship could bare, eventually finding a new place to call home. Since then he has funded the exploits of many adventurers and groups.
Unique Abilities: He is a gifted swordsman but prefers a bow for its silence and speed. He has practiced as an archer for as long as he has been capable, he can ensure that his arrows find there mark. He also is very persuasive when he needs to be.
Other: He is a functioning drunk.
Height/Weight: 6'1 197lbs
Outfit: His politicians clothing consists of a dark green roab with a blackmtrim, sometimes he can be seen wearing a dark black cloak over his armor. This attire is used when he heads into combat.
Hunting Gear: He wields a longbow and short gladius sword. He wears armor resembling his sigil, the wolf. A growling wolf face on either shoulder with no sleeves but gauntlets that covers the top of his hands.
Likes/Dislikes: Ale, women, and gold. His dislikes are few but one he especially despises those who are disloyal.
Occupation: A previous member of a swordsmans guild he spent some time as a sell sword before getting into politics.
