Wolfe last edited by
Name: Sylvester Swifthistle
Age: 25 (Human Years)
Appearance: Dark brown furred weasel with a white strip across the middle of his head and all the way down to his back. He is handsome and charming with a golden smile, although rather false in reality. He wears a black felt hat that is crumpled and very aged with time… but he is proud of it and considers it a treasure. He stole it from a rather rich stoat warlord in his sleep. He also wears a tattered grey vest that’s color is near indistinguishable for its wear and filth.
Occupation: Johnny is a drifter who has spent most of his life as a homeless wanderer. He is a petty thief that will occasional work in a group as a spy or pickpocket for some extra provisions or remuneration.
Personality: Johnny is a slick weasel, a cunning and treacherous beast and also a pathological liar. He has no remorse about stealing most of the time but he would never hurt or even kill helpless or innocent people. While he has had a tough life he is a generally happy and up-beat kind of beast. But when he is faced with a serious job he will put aside his jovial nature and get his work done with the utmost proficiency and effectiveness.
Johnny is a cynic and an avid intellectual although he can also enjoy many mundane aspects of life. He is the kind of beast that likes to question the differences between right and wrong and likes to analyze everything. He is shrewd and perceptive.
Johnny loves dibbuns and has a truly soft heart. He has never killed a good-beast but he has killed many vermin. He feels that he has been wrongly labeled as a vermin however he fits many of the stereotypes as he is a thieving vagabond that will not hesitate to play dirty to get what he wants. But his morality is what sets him apart from the mindless killers that make up the rest of the hordes of vermin that he sometimes finds himself associated with. Johnny will not kill unless he has no other option or if his opponent is evil.
Johnny grew up the son of a rogue Weasel who lived in the forest, essentially alone and isolated from the world. He never knew his mother who had died during childbirth however his father lived with him and took relative care of him. His upbringing was harsh and he learned quick that his father would not allow him to be weak, and required him to fend for himself.
One day Johnny’s father just didn’t come back… he waited days in the woodland cabin for his father to return but he never did. Johnny never knew what happened and although his father had always been harsh and strict in his parenting Johnny had grown to love and respect him dearly. His father had taught him to always fight for what he believed was right and to listen to no-one. He had taught Johnny that no beast owned him and that only by his own strength and cunning could he survive in the world.
A child of barely ten (human years) he had to learn to survive on his own. Luckily his father had taught him and so he spent the next two years in relative peace, living off the land around his cottage. Eventually it struck him that he was no longer confined to the place and he decided to roam around. For the next year he would roam farther and farther each day, his courage and will to explore expanding.
At thirteen his little explorations were finally cut short. He had been wondering the woodlands when he was discovered and captured by a small band of vermin numbering less then a score. After stripping him of his meager possessions they decided to keep him on as a slave and cook. He served the wandering band for nearly five years and in that short time he was forced to learn to be tough, to be strong and witty to survive.
After a few years he had been given a dagger and allowed to roam freely and fight with them. He was still put in charge of the cooking however. Johnny was never allowed to be an equal. He thought of escaping the first day they had released his bonds but he realized that he could not truly escape… for there was no other life for him, he was far from his home.
He kept on, now as a true member of the band. But one thing he would never do.. no matter how much he was beaten in penance for his refusal, was to kill another beast… to end its life. Johnny’s life became more and more filled with the horrors of death as time went on. He began to take on a new duty in the group, he was the spy…. the infiltrator, the innocent yet deadly liar. He became a thief and a snitch. Johnny reasoned to himself that it was ok because at least this way there was no blood on his hands… but he began to truly enjoy his job, even considering it an honorable profession. It began to bring joy to him even! But it was not enough to ignore the bloodshed around him, and one day he snapped.
He watched an entire family of shrews put to death in front of him. It made him sick, the band rarely actually killed… it usually just stole… but this time the perpetrators had become hostile, had decided to rebel. The shrews fought against the vermin, and they died for it.
He snapped and that night stole all of the food in the camp, keeping his trusty dagger and stealing 12 more for good measure… he left. He spent his years roaming in search of his calling, of what he was to do in his life. At the age of twenty he had become a lone wanderer.
Johnny began once more, after two years of foraging, to sell his services as a thief. He began to once again associate with vermin… but still he refused to kill. He could not stop his thievery, his calling. Johnny sold his services across the board without remorse, beginning to justify his decisions as what it took to “survive”.
His next few years were filled with odd jobs and endless wandering, tired paws and long cold nights. But he lived for it… it was a beautiful and thrilling life. The possibilities were endless of Johnny.
Weapons: One long knife for close combat fighting, 6 small ones for throwing.