Full Name: Rogg Streambattle
Species: River Otter
Description: Rogg is an average height for otters, slightly larger though, not fat, but slightly portly. The seasons of wandering have taxed his body but he always has quite an appetite and usually finds a way to eat well and keep his girth…comfortable. His fur is the usual dark brown with cream colored fur stretching down from his muzzle to his belly. The tip of his tail is also white. On his chest there is a patch of fur missing and a relatively small scar caused by a vermin's arrow a few seasons back which nearly took his life. This is normally not visible to other beasts but serves as a reminder to him of his more reckless days. He usually wears a long, hooded green cloak to protect from the elements under which he wears a simple dark blue waistcoat and a sharkskin belt with several pouches in which he stows several necessities, including an ample supply of hotroot pepper. Attached to the back of the belt is his long stiletto in a black scabbard. Whenever traveling, there is almost always a small pack slung on Rogg's back for any vittles he needs to carry on longer journeys where there is no guarantee of fresh food. Also in this pack is a pan for cooking and sundry small trinkets and mementos which he has picked up over the seasons. Strapped across his back is his trusty longbow with its accompanying quiver of arrows fletched with gull feathers.
Possessions: No longer being a creature of war, Rogg carries only a bow for protection in a pinch and his old stiletto as more of a memory then a practical tool. He wears several fish bone bracelets on his wrist, each carved with a unique design. Rogg also usually wears a silver tailring with a small emerald fashioned into it.
-Experience in battle which gives him somewhat good tactical judgement of situations.
-To his surprise he has become quite a good cook (in his opinion)
-Good swimmer (he is an otter after all)
-A strong archer, though his skills have become somewhat rusty after seasons of not needing to use them
-He does not support every creature he comes across in their endeavors but those he chooses to help he is fiercely loyal to
-Somewhat distrustful of those who he does not know well
-Can be cynical at times, though he knows this and tries to suppress it, this trait still is often manifested in his dealings with woodlanders
-Experience has made him slightly less apt to make rash decisions, but he tends to rush head on to deal with his problems
-He has a soft spot for food and can be quite glutenous when given the opportunity
-He does have a hard time committing to anything, even if he believes in the cause
Personality: Rogg is usually kind and easy-going, not easily provoked to anger and always willing to lend a paw to any creature in need of help, even vermin in some cases. He tries not to judge others at all, for he has done many things in the past which he regrets, but creatures who show a copious amount of bravado which they cannot substantiate with any real action simply rub his fur the wrong way. Always ready with a joke or a listening ear, Rogg is essentially your typical otter.
Background: Born on Green Isle the oldest of three brothers he lost his mother at an early age which embittered him to a world which he saw as cruel and unfair. As a young'un he had mock battles with his friends and brothers and reviled in the feeling it gave him. Soon began to train in earnest with his father to become a warrior. He knew in his heart the training was essential for his success as a fighter but as he grew slightly older found that he desired something more then what he considered a mundane life on Green Isle. No grand battles, no glory won by blood and honor, no excitement as he saw it, and as soon as he was old enough said his goodbyes and left on a small boat, sailing east in search of adventure. Sadly it was not until later in life that he would realize that the simple life he once knew was the one which he truly wanted.
Once arriving on the shores of this new land he quickly sought out the most powerful chieftain in the area and offered his services as a fighter. Of course a strong, young otter who could handle a blade was quickly taken on as a mercenary and it was not long before he had seen his first real battle. It terrified him, but exhilarated him and gave him a primordial feeling of power and energy that he had never experienced before. This was what he wanted to do.
He soon became engrossed in his new life as a hired blade, fighting for whoever would pay the most that he forgot any hesitant thoughts he had had about his skill with a sword which he had harbored on Green Isle. Fending off corsairs on the southern coast, battling alongside his varied and random comrades against hordes of vermin, generally learning the art of war. For a time it satisfied him, he was respected as a swordsbeast, well treated and living comfortably wherever the highest bidder called him. Rogg was living what he considered to be a dream.
But soon he started to see the unfortunate reality of his chosen profession and how pointless it really was to sell one's sword, never fighting for anything truly just or right, there was no valor won in battle, there was only pain. And the pain he caused. Eventually the things he had seen and done began to sicken him to his very essence of being, the horror on the faces of those he had slain soon haunted his dreams, the destruction caused by friend and foe alike on innocent bystanders simply caught in the middle of a conflict began to consume his thoughts. This was not what he had wanted as a young otter in search of adventure.
So he decided to give up on what he thought would make him happy, to hang up his sword and just wander in search of something. Something not even he was sure of. An easy life? A life not filled with violence? Friends? Or was it just a quick flowing river and an awe-inspiring tapestry of stars under which to sleep? Rogg did not know but he knew that the only way to find out was to search for it. So he wanders, and searches for something undefined in his confused mind.