Morthalis Dar'mar, Feral Stalker

[dragonrebirth]

First Name: Morthalis
Last Name: Dar'mar

Appearance: His skin is the pale blue of the sky right after a storm.
Race: Tiefling of infernal descent
Age: 21 years 4 months
Height: He stands at a height of 6 feet and 3 inches tall, although he tends to slouch and as such tends to appear somewhat shorter.
Weight: 185 lbs.
Eyes: His eyes glow a striking amber gold.
Hair: His obsidian black hair is kept cropped to a short military style to minimize any risk in combat.
Facial Hair Style: Facial hair strikes him as a bothersome thing more than anything and he keeps clean shaven at all times if possible.

Personality Profile: A brusque man with no tolerance for stupidity. The moment you display any sort of weakness he is as likely to file it away for future use as to spring on it instantly to hold you by your throat at his mercy. His clients had better prove their power or they could find he takes his reward without completing their request. He worships Malar in the abstract, believing more in the traits of a dog eat dog world that Malar represents than the actual god himself.
General Health: He is physically strong with lithe, flexible muscles. He is not currently afflicted with any long term debilitating diseases or disfigurements.
Deity: Malar
Initial Alignment: Chaotic Evil
Profession: Morthalis acts on contracts from anyone good or evil to track or hunt down people or objects, a mercenary and bounty hunter rolled into one tight package.
Base Class & Proposed Development: Ranger 13/Assassin 9/Warrior of Darkness 4/Whirling Dervish 3
Habits/Hobbies: Morthalis has a habit of collecting small trophies off of any quarry that he has had a particularly difficult time capturing or killing. His hobbies include whittling small wooden sculptures and pursuing new alchemical recipes for poisons and curatives.
Languages: Abyssal, Animal, Common, Sylan, Infernal, Goblin.
Weapons of Choice: Kukris, handaxes and short swords
Background: Morthalis' infernal progenitor abandoned him before he was old enough to have any memories of it. He was dumped on a peasant amily along with a token amount of gold in order to raise him and keep him from dying out in the cold. At first glance as a baby he appeared normal, albeit with golden eyes and slight stubs on his forehead, what the parents thought were just slight deformations.

As he grew older and it became apparent that he was of hellish descent the surrogate parents began to mistreat and despise him. They treated him as if he was responsible for anything wrong that happened in their lives. This escalated beyond simple hurtful words into physical abuse from the father. The mother did not physically strike him in any way, though what she did was far more cruel. She cut the amount of food provided to Morthalis to the bare minimum necessary to keep him from perishing. The only thing that kept them from outright killing Morthalis was a dread that their lives would be forfeit to whomever his parent may have been if he perished.

Growing up in this environment was shattering to the psyche of a child who could have otherwise grown up into a happy and generous man. Instead, because of his treatment, he became emotionally twisted. His mantra in life became, "Take what you can when you an, because if you don't someone else will." No longer willing to trust others and taking what he could lest others gain at his expense, he spent much time in the woods by himself, learning to stalk his prey in order to feed himself with his severely limited rations.

On his 15th birthday his foster father became particularly intoxicated and momentarily forgot his fear of the being who had brought Morthalis into his life. He pulled a blade on Morthalis, but long hours spent honing his senses and reflexes in the forest allowed Morthalis to snatch the blade from the simple peasant's hand. Enraged at the fact that his life, the only thing he could say he truly owned in the world, was being threatened he slew his adopted father. When his adopted mother saw this she attempted to flee. Morthalis, caught up in the bloodlust from his first sentient kill turned the blade on her as well. When he regained his senses and realized what he had done Morthalis felt no grief, merely a great sense of relief that this part of his life was over. He burned the hut that they had lived in together to the ground to dispose of the evidence, though not before taking his first trophy, the blade he slew them both with and a lock of hair from each of their heads that he braided together into a small string he kept in his belt pouch.

As he walked away from his old life he realized that the only way he could reach fulfillment in life was by feeling the rush of hunting others and slaying them. The thrill of the hunt was amazing and even better was the climax, taking ones prey in your hands and grinding them into the dust. He began to take jobs hunting down beings and objects that others were willing to pay for. He cared not about the morality of hunting down any of his targets, a serial killer was as good as a hardened paladin to him, so long as they provided an entertaining chase. Now he lives o such commissions sometimes working with others if he does not possess a particular skill or technique necessary to trap his quarry. As such, he begins to build a network of shadowy brokers and partners in crime in a enterprise he hopes will be sustainable.

Goals: To gather more personal power. To refine his killing and tracking techniques until he is known as the best in both fields. He hopes to build his brand with the constabulary and shadier sides of Baldur's Gate until he become the go-to-guy for retrievals, dead or alive. He hopes to learn more of his origins and heritage.

Possible Plot-Hook Ideas and Misc Facts: Plots involving his long lost parents.
Bounties, assassination contracts or item retrieval contracts.
A High Hunt of the Malarites or other similar religious rituals of the Malarites.
His grandfather is a powerful devil and his father was a half devil formed from the great devils copulation with a elven woman.
While not even he believes it, deep in his heart he hopes for comrades in the same vein as himself to share his experiences with, never having had any sort of positive companionship so far in his life, other than the business relationships he has with his clients.

[Maecius]

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