Name: Stoattius (Last name unkown)
Age : Mid-Adulthood
Weight: Heavy, not fat.
Appearence: Wears a worn down tattered black vest with a beautifully knitted black cloak, has chainmail cuffs and rough leather boots. Grey fur with white stripes underneath eyes. Tall muscular features, with a bobbing head. Cold, gold eyes, that stare into YOUR VERY SOUL
Personality: Rough, cold hearted, cruel, intelligent, quick witted. Constantly on the watch for opportunities to get food or to kill. Dreams of one day being able to rest his feet on a luxiorious stool and have various fruits hand fed to him.
Strengths: Undinaible ability to never give up, can deliver swift kicks and punches. A born commander, a born conquorer.
Weaknesses: Foolishness can be found in his ability to keep on going, never admits defeat.
Background: Born suprisingly far north for a stoat, raised in an evil village of stoats, rats and other various vermin. Family was killed by a rat, he challenged that rat one on one and one, and of course won. He completed various fist, sword and archery, duels and was declared champion of stoats. With his title as champion, he recruited armies of stoats and went off to warmer climates, and to harrass more peaceful creatures.
Description of his stare:
The corrosive stare of a beast lacking every hesitation has been set upon you. Though the air runs free, his sight commands it to hold you still. As he watches you, you are forced to watch him. Once pain surges in his being is now exerted into the tense scene that sends you wishing for the redeeming moment of movement and sound. For all runs still in this moment that you now run ill. It's over now but like thunder, you intend to endure once it strikes again
Thanks to daflame for the wonderful description of such an aggressive stare.