Sabertache

[DW]

Name: Sabertache (Saber)
Gender: Male
Hair: Dark Brown
Eyes: Very dark brown
Age: 19
Race: Hylian
History: As a child, Saber never planned on being a warrior. He would have much rather lived a normal life, working on a ranch or some other position around his small, peaceful mountain settlement.

He lived there with his father, an ex-mercenary gone farmer, and his mother, a plain looking woman with a love for the outdoors. He grew up loving the forests and had a very strong bond with his family and the other families living in the small settlement.

Then, one normal afternoon, it all went to hell. A group of bandits had considered the settlement an easy target, and struck. Saber was rushed by his mother into a small hole behind a boulder and told to stay. A minute later, he heard a sudden outbreak of noise--Steel clashing on steel, bowstrings twanging as their payloads whistled through the air, then the thud of a confirmed hit.

Another minute later, the noise stopped, and the next ten minutes were dominated by the sound of footsteps throughout the houses and down the road. Then everything was silent.

He sat in the hole for another five minutes, trembling. Then he slowly pulled himself out, and took shaky steps back towards his house. All the furniture was pushed over; shattered glass and other possesions scattered all over the ground.

He left through the front door, and was horrified at what he saw on the street. The people he had known since his birth eight years ago were laying on the ground, most of them mutilated almost beyond recognition. Yet he saw his father nowhere.

He wanted to run, but his legs seemed to be nailed to the ground. Screaming, he fell to his knees, then retched. He stared at the ground, his hollow eyes brimming with tears.

I have to go....I have to go...I can't stay here anymore! I can't look at this!Panic took a hold of him, and he stood and turned to run when he saw it.

His father was pinned to the wall next to the door, held suspended in the air by a trident which had passed through his gut. His empty eyes stared at nothing, and were filled with fear and the realization of what his fate would surely be. His sword was still firmly grasped in his right hand; a saber.

The child stared at the weapon for several minutes, then pried it out of his father's hand. He hefted the curved sword that was as long as he was tall. It was large, but...it felt right to him. His hand wrapped comfortably around the hilt. Looking down at it, his mind was made up.

An hour later, he stared down at the two graves that he had dug for the marred bodies of his parents; he had found his mother in the bedroom, a dozen arrows in her back. He threw aside the shovel and carefully pushed his mother's body into one grave. Turning to his father, he prepared to do the same for him, but then froze when he saw something.

On the nape of his father's neck, there was a mark. It seemed to be stamped....in blood? He took a closer look at it and recognized the shape as a rabbit's foot. A gang mark. His only hope in tracking them down.

A few minutes later, he threw the last shovelful of dirt onto the grave. He stared down at the two mounds, his fists shaking. He took up his father's blade again, and stuck it through his belt. He turned and walked away, and never looked back.

It wasn't until later that he broke down and grieved. At that moment, there was only one thing on his mind.

[Baka Nezumi]

Very sad, but good character background.

..... For some reason it sounds like the story in Fable.

[Zane the SC LoZ]

Name: Sabertache (Saber)
Gender: Male
Hair: Dark Brown
Eyes: Very dark brown
Age: 19
Race: Hylian
History: As a child, Saber never planned on being a warrior. He would have much rather lived a normal life, working on a ranch or some other position around his small, peaceful mountain settlement.

He lived there with his father, an ex-mercenary gone farmer, and his mother, a plain looking woman with a love for the outdoors. He grew up loving the forests and had a very strong bond with his family and the other families living in the small settlement.

Then, one normal afternoon, it all went to hell. A group of bandits had considered the settlement an easy target, and struck. Saber was rushed by his mother into a small hole behind a boulder and told to stay. A minute later, he heard a sudden outbreak of noise--Steel clashing on steel, bowstrings twanging as their payloads whistled through the air, then the thud of a confirmed hit.

Another minute later, the noise stopped, and the next ten minutes were dominated by the sound of footsteps throughout the houses and down the road. Then everything was silent.

He sat in the hole for another five minutes, trembling. Then he slowly pulled himself out, and took shaky steps back towards his house. All the furniture was pushed over; shattered glass and other possesions scattered all over the ground.

He left through the front door, and was horrified at what he saw on the street. The people he had known since his birth eight years ago were laying on the ground, most of them mutilated almost beyond recognition. Yet he saw his father nowhere.

He wanted to run, but his legs seemed to be nailed to the ground. Screaming, he fell to his knees, then retched. He stared at the ground, his hollow eyes brimming with tears.

I have to go....I have to go...I can't stay here anymore! I can't look at this!Panic took a hold of him, and he stood and turned to run when he saw it.

His father was pinned to the wall next to the door, held suspended in the air by a trident which had passed through his gut. His empty eyes stared at nothing, and were filled with fear and the realization of what his fate would surely be. His sword was still firmly grasped in his right hand; a saber.

The child stared at the weapon for several minutes, then pried it out of his father's hand. He hefted the curved sword that was as long as he was tall. It was large, but...it felt right to him. His hand wrapped comfortably around the hilt. Looking down at it, his mind was made up.

An hour later, he stared down at the two graves that he had dug for the marred bodies of his parents; he had found his mother in the bedroom, a dozen arrows in her back. He threw aside the shovel and carefully pushed his mother's body into one grave. Turning to his father, he prepared to do the same for him, but then froze when he saw something.

On the nape of his father's neck, there was a mark. It seemed to be stamped....in blood? He took a closer look at it and recognized the shape as a rabbit's foot. A gang mark. His only hope in tracking them down.

A few minutes later, he threw the last shovelful of dirt onto the grave. He stared down at the two mounds, his fists shaking. He took up his father's blade again, and stuck it through his belt. He turned and walked away, and never looked back.

It wasn't until later that he broke down and grieved. At that moment, there was only one thing on his mind.

cool,sad butcool.really cool