Full Name: Arcturus Broadleaf
Species: Gray Fox
Description: Somewhat unkempt from outwards appearances, fur slightly dirtied most of the time from tracking or working in the field. Tall (6'2''), somewhat muscular, but not buff. Backside is covered in whip scars from when he was a slave. His fur is gray all around, with slightly lighter coloration on his chest and face.
Possessions: One longbow, spliced together from the burned-out remnants of his family's house, quiver usually carrying 20 arrows, two stiletto "stabbing dirks" held in scabbards on his belt, pack with supplies usually slung over his back, leather bracer worn on his forearm to protect it while shooting, dark blue tunic with hood (the hood is not used often, though comes in handy in rain), black pants with a leather belt, and two books, one filled with his poetry and the other his father's half-finished, partially burned love story, both are his prized possessions.
Strengths: Skilled in archery, hand-to-hand combat, and tracking. Shows care for other beasts and compassion for those in need. Patient and understanding for problems needing his help. Is well informed and can seek out information
Weaknesses: Intense hatred for vermin, so intense that it blurs his consciousness and has made him do some unspeakable things to those who harm others. It is not bloodwrath, though. It's more along the lines of mental scarring from his family's murder and his enslavement.
Personality-Generally likable, somewhat reserved when talking about his past, but can become quite moody at the first mention of love or other topics of that sort. He's not what you would call a social beast, but can interact with others fine. Lover of poetry and writes in his spare time, transposing his father's love story into a non-burned book and finishing it is one of his goals when he settles down.
Background-The son of a carpenter and writer on the outskirts of Mossflower, Arcturus Broadleaf grew up in relative seclusion, only seeing other beasts occasionally while he was practicing archery in a field near his home or traveling with his father into town to sell wood. Bright, skilled with a bow and well-behaved, he was destined to take over the family business when he turned 18. However, one day while tracking a group of vermin that had been spotted a day earlier by some locals, he smelled smoke. Running as fast as he could, he arrived at his family's house to find the same vermin looting and burning it. The bodies of his father, mother, and two sisters lay on the ground, their throats cut and clothes taken. Being 12, Arcturus began to cry at this grisly sight, and one of the vermin caught sight of him.
After being caught, he was beaten, chained up, and sold into slavery. For 10 years he toiled ceaselessly in a never-ending cycle of abuse, starvation, and endless work. On the 10th anniversary of his family's brutal murder, he broke free, killed his master, and went back home. the charred remnants of his house were still standing sentinel in the forest, and there was enough wood to begin working on the instrument of his revenge. For days he worked, combining bits and pieces of his house's timbers into a composite bow, the string from one of his bows he had as a child, the arrows salvaged from his father's woodshop. While looking through the rubble of his house, he found two books-one written by his father, a love story, that was to be given to his mother on their 25th anniversary, which was only a year away from the date their were murdered on, the other-a book of the poetry he wrote as a child. These two books, more than anything else, became his prized possessions.
Leaving his house behind, Arcturus began a long 5-year campaign to track down the vermin who murdered his parents and sisters. When he found them, they did not know who he was, but after a quick memory jog (namely the killing of three or four of them) they remembered. After a brief but brutal fight, they were dead and his family was avenged. Taking the vermin leader's two stiletto dirks, originally his father's, he burned everything else, leaving nothing behind.
That was five years ago. Nowadays, Arcturus wanders Mossflower, having no real place to call home. Somewhat of a wanderer, he helps anyone that he comes across in need or in peril, because of the guilt he feels of not being with his family, the day they were killed.