Player – [
Anomynous]
Name - “Hok’Ee” Patamon Ah’Igote (the first one being his nickname)
Race – Hauken
Sub-race – Rieev/Aglia
Class – Fencer
Allegiance – Royalist
Appearance –
A short fellow by Hauken standards, Hok’Ee “towers” at five feet and about seven inches. His years of various combat trainings have formed, fine-tuned and chiseled his slender physique like a work of art… a masterpiece, even. His body is truly something to be admired, and his strength and speed to be reckoned with. His hair is shoulder-long, straight and blacker than the night, he usually lets it casually float around him, but, when in combat he ties it up and conceals it under his hat so as not to cause any interference.
Throughout his journeys he’d been admired for many a trait… his body especially, his hair also… and his wings, of course. Blacker even than his hair, his wings are his pride and glory. “Are you a fallen angel?” He remembers some children coming to ask him. Many seem to look over one thing, though… his eyes. A dark blue which he inherited from his mother, they hide a sadness no one can discern and couldn’t possibly fathom.
Age – 31 going on 60
Personality -
Hok’Ee is by no means a sociable character. So many years of anger and hatred have taught him not to trust anyone. He will wait until he is sure about a person’s mind before engaging that person in conversation, and when (or if) he does… his words will be few and carefully chosen. To some he may seem shy… to others, sociopathic. His mannerisms are those of a well-educated nobleman, he just forgets to use them. The trauma of the past ew years have made him forget many things. He sometimes behaves as the nobleman he used to be, other times as a feral child, depending on the given situation. His honour is his pride and his pride is what drives him.
History –
Six… no, seven. Seven… seven and a half. How long has it been since my last… was it over 300 days. 300 and then another… How may years have I been…
One tends to become erratic when out of hope. But once you have hit rock bottom, there is only one place left to go, and every Hauken knows this.
Up… up, I need to see the sky. I need to see the… He didn’t know it, but it had actually been little over three years. His sense of time, however, was badly distorted. Three years of wandering aimlessly through Lemire, through thick woods, deserts and jungles.
To think that not so long ago he was part of the nobility. Expensive clothes, lavish feasts and large, soft beds… all to be now replaced by rags, earthworms and cave floors. The Ah’Igote family were among the elite of Hauken society. It is no surprise that they were among the first to fall when the civil war broke. His Rieev father was one of the more popular spokesmen and fervent supporter of the Crown. Then one night they came… These beasts that wore masks to conceal their disgrace. They killed his mother in her sleep… a noble Aglia who’d served the guards for many a year, she was not even granted a warrior’s death. His father managed to hold them off, he was no fighter, but the adrenaline rush in him gave him strength he never knew he had. The young Patamon had to flee. He wanted to stand and fight… and die, but his father ordered him, flee.
Death has a way of reshuffling ones priorities. He wanted to get married, start his own family and be a spokesman like his father, in spite of his mother’s insistences. She had, however, taught him how to hold a sword… now he needed to learn how to use it. But for the first three years, he didn’t know whether he was coming or going. His main focus in all those long days was to stay alive. He had no friends, no family… he had only himself. The soft, pampered young Patamon thus became a man. Though he had avoided contact with anyone so far, he one day stumbled upon a caravan that was heading towards an arena of some sort. He decided to offer a strong back for work in exchange for combat training. The tough, nigh feral, yet still young Patamon thus became a warrior… but he still had much to learn.
Weapon of Choice - Damascus sword.
Others – He hates alcohol and is violently claustrophobic
. And his favourite colour is amber.
Themesong - Apocalyptica 'Hope, vol. 2'
Element - Yellow
Stats
Level - 2
Experience/To next level - 628/740
Equipment -
Damascus (5 Atk, 4 Def. 6 Wgt)
Brigandine +1 (4 Def, 9 Wgt)
Buckler +2 (3 Def, 4 Wgt)
Bamboo Hat (3 Dex, 1 Cha, 2 Wgt)
Awapuhi plant x2
Antidote x1
Healing potion x2 (2 Wgt)
Lesser healing potion x3 (1.5 Wgt)
307 GP
Stats
HP - 12/12
MP - 10
Str - 5
Con - 5
Int - 5
Mag - 5
Dex - 7
Cha - 5
CC - 21.5/30
Skills – Discipline, Handle Swords, Lightning Speed, Frost Strike, Critical Strike.
SP - 0
Special Skills
Flashstep - Once a day for every 5 levels, the fencer can consume all of his movement by running in a straight line at very high speed, when he flashsteps, he can move through enemies and do an attack against each enemy he moves through.
Score
Status - Slave
Battle Fought - 0
Battles Won - 0
Battles Lost - 0
Kills - 0
Deaths - 0
Score - 2
Assassination quests: 0
Retrieval or monster killing quests: 1
Aid or rescue quests: 0
Persuade or investigate quests: 0
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