Rakanar

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• 

  
  
  Name: Rakanar
  Pronunciation: Rock-ah-nar (Occasionally pronounced with a roll of the tongue)
  Nicknames: Bumblebird. Whatever else it takes to garner his attention.
  Species: Gryphon through and through. (Does that make me a mix?)
  Gender: Male
  Age: One year older than last
  Birthday: August 19th
  Orientation: Heterosexual
  Marital Status: Unconquered
  Alignment: Neutral
  Voice: Commanding with raspy edging. Powerful where needed. Similar
  
  
  Body Type: Tall. Lithe with slight muscle definition able to be seen.
  Height: 6’6” (198.1cm)
  Weight: 195lbs (88.5kgs)
  Wingspan: 14' (426.7cm)
  Coloration: A distinct brown blended gold with ash-tipped feathers. Beige underside and the golden fur of a lion.
  Eye Color: Strong teal, with hint of azure coalesced together.
  
  
  Attire: Light workman's garb, with dark knee length cotton trousers. Woolen long coat accompanied by shoulder guards. Fingerless gloves of similar color to trousers. No foot equipment.
  Accessories:
  Workman's Goggles: Provides protection to the eyes as well as enhances his already keen vision. Due to specialized lenses, they tint to sudden brightness, and help light darkness.
  
  Tool Kit: A supply-kept set of various specialized odds and ends for a variety of uses.
  
  Accessory Kit: A self-held satchel containing smaller intricacies of whatever he feels will be needed for any given day. (Contents to be roleplayed out)
  Gifts: Has received none thus far.
  
  
  Meal: Favors vary. Is not limited in what will be consumed.
  Drink: Most typically sticks to water, but ventures out frequently.
  Allergies: Has been blessed not to suffer from limitations
  
  
  Attitude: Rakanar, like all of his kind, is a proud, resolute and willful creature. He detests those who do not present the same respect that he displays, and is enamored with those who exceed him. Often times, Rakanar comes off as cocky and brash with certainty in his capabilities. He is welcoming until made an adversary which, to some extent, can be difficult to accomplish unless it is the perceived goal. He enjoys the company of the like-minded, and loathes the presence of disregarding individuals.
  
  Mannerism: Attempts are made act that of righteous birth, but he often overdoes the façade. It is more like him to be down and dirty and lost within his own musings or work and typically not searching to converse. Though, once a topic has been started, provided his interest, the real trick is getting him to be silent. Quirky, loyal and sadistic are three fitting phrases to sum up his character.
  
  Hygiene: Takes great pride in being approachable, but lacks in areas of cleanliness and outward display. He is often sullied from his work, and care is only given to his appearance at the end of each day, sometimes longer depending on the task at hand.
  
  Enjoyments: A good fight, whether watching or participating. His work, red wine, the occasional smoke. Discovery!
  Despises: Disrespect being the prideful nature his species possesses.
  
  
  
  
  Noteworthy: Heightened vision and alertness. Naturally quick reflexes. Flight.
  Ailments: None currently
  Health: 90%. Faint scalding around face and wings. Flight inhibited, but not unviable.
  
  
  (And information)
  
  Vision: Renowned for vision, Rakanar's kind know a sharpness unlike that of other species. He is capable of seeing vast distances, even at speed with unparalleled clarity.
  Flight: Powerful wings and a wide, broad span allows for effective soaring. Sticking to sharp upward thermals grants steady maintained flight. This gives him an edge when reading the wind.
  Carry Weight: Without wind to assist him, Rakanar cannot leap from the ground with more than half of his own weight in addition. But, when leaping from a perch, or using the wind as aid, doubling his weight or more is not unconceivable.
  Intellect: Known for their intellect is a misconstrued assumption. It is not that they are extraordinarily intelligent. It is that they are quick to learn, and hard to forget.
  
  
• 

  A dark, crimson pocketbook kept at an inner coat pouch to the left of his chest.
  It appears well worn, and the pages, while readable, are waterstained and smudged with soot and grime.

• • Curses!

    Who knew such a few short words could change it all?
    
    I'm right back where I started! In all the time that I've lost stuck here I have been building a base infrastructure (monetary wealth) and have seen it vanish in the blink of an eye! The arena as I suspected was lucrative, but it lures you in only to steal It all away!
    
    I have learned their currency system well and am confident with my ability to read into others. The last night however things went sour. Firstly a little explanation. I have been slowly amassing a sum of wealth to fund my projects through gambling in the fights. It wasn't difficult to determine the victor before the fights began.
    
    Last night, I made a miscalculation.
    
    I forget the lads names, but bet all I have on the wrong fighter. I'm not left with only a few silver in my pocket. Enough to buy myself a few drinks at most. Well, tis not the first time I am down on my luck. Right now,
    
    I need a drink...

  • A New Approach

    Days passed...
    
    I've been stuck upon this isle for two solid weeks now. My wings are able to carry me again, though not to their full extent. I suspect only a little more time is needed for them to be back to full capacity. In other news, work has come my way, though limitedly. I do not have the funds yet to give myself a more comfortable location. Thus, I have since turned the wreckage of my ship into a temporary encampment.
    
    In other news, I have learned much in my time here. Power is the name of the game and without it, you are nothing. Folk seem friendly enough, but everyone is always looking for that one way to get ahead. Reminds me of home. My skillset has started me with a base clientele. I do not know how long I will remain stranded, but I'm finding myself less eager to return.
    
    I've begun experimentation on a new weapon design. The arena appears to be a lucrative area waiting to be exploited among many places. I will not go hungry for long.
    
    The winds are changing...

  • Not Alone!

    I am in luck!
    
    It seems this is not some desolate uninhabited isle! In fact, it is not a single island, but a collection, or so I have been able to see from the air. There are all sorts of things to discover, from fields of strange grain, to oddly prepared structures. I have walked through an enormous entrance of a clearly marked establishment on the shores.
    
    It is called, “The Golden Tether.” Those who inhabit it are as unique as the name implies. Though thus far my prowling has gotten me little in terms of necessities. My belly growls damn near constantly, and I find it hard to concentrate. Even still, this strange place is filled with all manner of social class. The rich, the poor, and the enslaved.
    
    Yes, enslaved. It seems it is the predominate trade here and the practice is more widespread than being confined behind my homeland’s boarders. I will take great pleasure in telling Aventia of this discovery since she is so adamant of abolishing the right to keep and own others. But, that is a topic for another time. Right now, I must seek a way to gain some grounds here. I don’t possess their form of currency.
    
    Perhaps there is another way…

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