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| "You don't want to finish that sentence, yes?" | |||||||||||||||
| Stryder... The proud. The fierce. The barbarian from the roof of the world known as the Feython Mountains. Coming from the harsh north, he knew only what the environment had taught him. He found his way to Feldar in search of treasures and glory. All he found was pain and sadness. While becoming a veteran of many battles, he mastered melee combat. Finding the southern arms and armors unreliable, he began crafting, which he too mastered. As of late, his mind has been expanding its own powers. Soon, he harnessed this power to do what he wills. Stryder's only downfall is his pride. His reason is blinded by that pride, which has nearly killed him. However, he is still blind to that fact. He still refuses to accept, let alone ask for, aid in any sort. | |||||||||||||||
| Physical Attributes: Race: Human Height: 6'1" Weight: 250 lb Hair Color: Black Eye Color: Blue |
Equipment: Weapons: Giant's Axe Armor: Adamantine Chain Shirt |
Other: Motto: Choose your opponents wisely. I may be your last. Magic: None Likes: Being Alone Dislikes: People Fighting Style: Psychic Melee |
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