Name: Artemis Snowscar
Age: 28
Appearance: 
Class: Infiltrator
Handles bladed weapons very well and is an accurate marksman with a crossbow. Preference is to flank the enemy, attacking weak points. Employs dirty tactics to win fights. Utilizes subterfuge, obfuscation, and alchemy to achieve his goals. Alignment: Chaotic Neutral (True Neutral Inclinations)
Weapon(s): Armor/Clothing: The attire worn is usually either leather or hide for ease of movement, with metallic plates over his shoulders and forearms to provide protection and deflection. Only employs a mask when on a hunt, which otherwise he wears the clothing of the local populace to better blend in.Personal trinkets: Wedding Band
Short History: Artemis was born on the eastern edge of Mournhold along the banks of a river. It was a small hamlet comprised of simple people with simple lives. His father was a learned man with a trouble past and decided to make Coolwater his home, perhaps running from tragedy. His mother was a seamstress while his father took care of the hamlet’s more political machinations, acting as a liaison between the crown and the town. He held no true political office, but being one of the few men who could read, write, and orate in the town, the burden laid on him.
His father had a hidden flaw, however. He was a gambler, and a bad one at that. His addiction is one of the things he was running from, but one night when soldiers from the crown were passing through from one township to another, he took to the drink, and took to the cards. It wasn’t long before he had lost everything. His home. His wife’s business. Even his station. Worst of all, he lost his son. Artemis was only ten years old, still a child at heart. He wanted nothing more than to run amongst the cornfields, play soldier with his friends, and get weirded out by the young girls who would tease him.
It was a time where the kingdom needed to bolster its ranks, fearing retribution from neighboring warbands and raiding parties, these soldiers were tasked with searching for capable men and women. Thrown into a cage like some beast, he was hauled away to a weeping mother and a distraught father. He would never see them again and learned years later that his mother took her own life, walking into the river that bore them so much life and drowning herself and his father never woke up one day from a night of drink. It has been so long he had forgotten their names and their faces.
For the next eight years Artemis was in the service of the crown, being taught everything from stabling horses to sword play. He was a rebellious boy at first, ashamed and afraid of being torn away from the only life that he knew, but slowly over time, began to accept his life for what it was: Fodder for a king he never met to a kingdom he didn’t understand. It wasn’t long before those in charge of him noticed that Artemis embodied a certain quality about him. He didn’t stand out. He was never at the top of his class nor at the bottom. Those that paid attention, however, saw that he was exceptional with the blade, but lost duels on purpose. His looks were unremarkable and he wasn’t the largest of men. Unimposing, even.
A lieutenant took notice of the boy and took him before another man. Artemis learned never to be frightened by mortal flesh, for all that bleeds can die. But this man unnerved him. Something about him just seemed…
off. The next several years were steeped in darkness. He was taught to blend in. Manipulate. Coerce. Prepare alchemical concoctions to paralyze or to kill. When he was deemed ready, he was given to task. At first, they were innocent enough. Befriend a local merchant or eavesdrop on a conversation in a tavern. All with the purpose of gaining information. Of course, innocence never lasts, and the darker part of his life began to take form. Steel would enter flesh, silently as a whisper in the wind. Blood would spill across wooden floors, never to creak and betray his existence to the world. This is who he was.
That is, even a man such as he can find love. Mournhold was hell embodied to Artemis. His entire life he saw nothing but the worst of man. Pedophiles and rapists, running from the crown, would not run very far. Corrupt politicians with the proclivity towards sadism, using their connections to keep from the executioner’s axe, mysteriously died in their sleep, comfortable under silken sheets in their mansions. In all of this, Artemis found her. Raven-haired Victoria, with a smile that could cut even the thickest of chains and a touch that would woo the soul of the most berserked man. In secret they married as he feared his employer would disapprove and their disapproval usually meant that one was not long for this world.
In the end it wasn’t the Crown that betrayed his heart. It was these… beastman. Victoria had convinced Artemis to visit his childhood home, having used some excuse as to why he had left in the first place. Perhaps he went to find solace and peace with his past but all he could muster was the venom against his father. His father, a man so deeply pained, killed his wife and lost his only son, and couldn’t even be man enough to do something about it. Upon his return, Artemis was met with ruin. Buildings smoldering and crushed bodies. Soldiers sifting through the debris, either trying to find survivors or looking to plunder whatever meager riches these peasants had. Something broke inside of Artemis that day. Whatever demons he compartmentalized away throughout the years began to break free, that delicate wall he had built cracking under the pressure.
This was almost a year ago. Ever since, he has been running and hunting. His main objective was to be a culling. The very apocalypse in which these beastman fear. It was in every town he went to, not beastman to kill, but men and women with such evil hearts and black souls. Retribution was not far behind.
Gear:
- Waterskin
- Rope
- Firestriker
- Whetstone
- Carving knife
- Bedroll
- Alchemical Bag
Member
