Lance Drifter

  • Name: Lance Drifter
    Gender: Male
    Age: 47
    Species: Ferret
    Occupation: Wanderer/Mercenary

    Physical Appearance: Lance is of an average build for his species, though slightly muscled. He has in different places on his body small scars, which have healed from long before battles long ago. His fur is russet brown in color, though mostly faded due to his age, and there is some gray on his head. The only scar presides on his worn-looking face, which is a scar over his right eye. His eye color is dark brown, and his face, to any creature, would think he was older then he looked, from how worn out he looks.

    He wears a dark green travelers cloak, with his hood on at all times. He also wears a brown woven cloth shirt, and wears a pouch belt, which holds his medical supplies, and other small possessions. Also, always on his back is his backpack full of the rest of his possessions which couldn't fit into his pouch belt. Always in his paws are his signature lance, with carvings on the wooden handle of his own design and his sling which is tied around his waist just slightly above his pouch belt. He also carries a hidden dagger.

    Possessions: Backpack, bedroll, two canteens (one full with water, the other empty), rope, pouch belt, medical supplies (herbs, bandages, etc…), a sling, a lance, a dagger, and a small wood carving of a raven.

    Personality: Lance is what one might call the silent, cold looking loner. He usually doesn't talk much, unless he is interested in a subject that is mentioned, which is either about his job, or something else. He always seems to lose attention to anything around him when he?s holding his small wooden carving of a raven, almost as if reliving a past memory… or a longing for something dear to him. His thoughts about his job is he deems it necessarily, he knows his skills would be better put to use as a mercenary, and his tendency to follow orders well make him suitable for it. He always tends to remain a bit distant from other beasts, though when he's working in a group, he won't be as distant due to knowing they are of use, for now.

    Strengths: Great skills in using his lance and sling.
    Took rigorous military training.
    Excels in hit-and-run tactics.

    Weaknesses: Relies a bit too much on his lance in combat.
    If his carving gets damaged, he goes into an uncontrolled rage.
    Tends to not trust that many beasts easily.
    Due to his age,a old injury on his left leg acts up at random times.

    History: Lance has a slightly shady history which he does not seem to talk much of, if ever at all. Lance was born into a small family of farmers, one of the rare few who managed to make a living in the northlands. Though it wasn't a perfect life, he enjoyed it. But a few years later, a group of vermin bandits came and pillaged the farm. Lance was out collecting water when this happened, he had only just noticed the fire when he smelled the smoke and saw it coming from over a hill. He ran to go see what was happening, but two of the vermin pillagers found him and knocked him out with clubs. He was dragged off back to their camp and was made their slave for a couple of years.

    Sometime afterwards, the group went off to go pillage again, this was his chance for his long awaited revenge. He broke free of his bounds, took a sling and pouch belt from the pillagers hidden trove of loot, and waited for their return. When they returned, he could tell it had not gone well. Only 5 remained of the 30 that went off for the raid. As if fate meant it so, the leader was one of the survivors of the raid group. With a good sized stone, he put it into the sling, and started to twirl it. Knowing he had only one shot, he let go, and it hit the rat leader in the forehead. Taking advantage of their surprise, he managed to let loose another stone, knocking out another of their group. The three remaining, who thought they were danger of being killed, ran off without knowing who it was that attacked them. Lance let them go, knowing they would most likely die from something, but he didn't care. All he wanted was revenge, revenge for his murdered family, burnt down home, and his shattered dreams. He walked right over and picked up the rats weapon, which was a lance of fine workmanship, and aimed it right for the rats heart. With all the force he could muster, he stabbed, and stabbed, and stabbed the rat repeatedly. When night fell, a group of shrews from the village found the campsite, with lance still stabbing the rat?s dead body. Thinking he was crazed, one of the shrews loosed a stone from his sling and knocked him out.

    Some days later, he woke up in a small room in one of the village houses, dazed and confused. He could not remember what happened last night, or nights ago. After a few weeks, the villagers decided to let him out, deeming he was sane. Yet even after getting his revenge, he had a forlorn look, as if the hole that was made was not filled in his heart. After a few years of this, he sneaked out of the village with the lance, his sling, pouch belt, a backpack with a bedroll and some canteens in it, and clothes he took without anyone noticing.

    Many years later, he soon made a living by becoming a mercenary of great skill. Though he?s managed to make a living, he?s still yet felt….incomplete. After overhearing a group of otters talking about a place called Redwall, he felt an urge to go there. He did not know why, but he felt he would get his answers at this place. He soon managed to collect enough information to get a general direction and headed off. After a few odd years, he finally made it to Mossflower. While on the way there, he fiddled with a small piece of wood and carved it into the shape of a raven. He does not know why, but he feels attached to the small carving...but with other things on his mind, he put it into one of the pouches on his belt and resumed his journey.

    Relationships: Family: Died in a fire.

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