Atlantic:Nh'bdy

Nh'bdy
Player:
Place of Birth:	Britain
Class:	Peasant.
Guild:	[Lute]
Personal Data
Real Name:	Unknown.
Aliases:	Nh'bdy, Nh'bdy A'Tll, Nh'Juan, Jester Mereel, Chester Copperpot, Freeman
Race:	Human. Presumed.
Age:	Unknown.
Height:	6' 1"
Weight:	~194
Eye Color:	Dark Hazel.
Hair Color:	Dark Hazel, dyed grey.
Biographical Data
Residence:	Unknown.
Former Guilds:	Thieve. Merchant's. Farmer's. Mason's. Shepard's.
Marital Status:	Unknown.
Relatives:	Unknown.
Accolades
"The Unapointed Magistrate of the Innumerable Unnamed Masses." Britain's Resident Anarchist.
Abilities
Active usage of physical and psychological altering substances. Apparent detachment from sanity. Physical Form is well kept. Trained in multiple forms of martial combat. Ability to produce weaponry from seemingly mundane items. Competent locksmith. Well trained in locomotive arts. Evasive and quizzical persona. Trained in most Bardic arts. Anonymity. Explosive expertise. Uncanny ability to disprove and sway the opinions and beliefs of others.
Unique Equipment
Several custom daggers. Tool belt containing poisons, syringes, explosives, Garrot wire, among other "party favors". Vests seemingly rigged as martyr devices. Flame retardant uniform. Mask, claimed to be booby-trapped. Cloak capable of allowing concealing items and deflecting, somewhat, brute force, explosives and projectiles. Left glove outfitted with concealed gauntlet like aspects, allowing manipulation of otherwise harmful objects. Custom rapier. Custom cane. "The Chair leg Truth" - Crude Club used for executions. Full range of equipment unknown due to somewhat comic habit of citing and interacting with "invisible" items.
The Information above is a loose document compiled from personal sightings and documentation of incidents. The validity and availability of this information is crude, at best. It should also be noted that the criminal "Nh'bdy" seen in one incident, may not, and in all likelihood, is not the same individual.

History

The Following is a large compilation of events and personal notation that is hidden among the personal effects of the Anarchist Nh'bdy, and are in no way shape or form public. Simply a chronically of his actions left for whomever discovers them. The location is obscure, at best.

Rising from the inky blackness of peasantry, it was the fancy of my fraternal figure, as well, to some lesser extent, my maternal figure, that I, the then unnamed theoretical child, should aspire to become what all men of my time should aspire to become. A Paladin! Ooh how the lights did shimmer and the trumpeters did proclaim my arrival on that dearest of mid-summer days. The family, having lost a child to the womb once, and to the blight, it was on their third attempt that the coupling and following maternity did produce a child. No longer but theory, I was born, and so my years were spent from the numbers one, or zero, according to how one views infancy, until the age of nigh a fortnight and two pence, toiling in the fields surrounding the grounds of British himself. In this time I came to fancy the arts and nature.

Not one to sire a druid or some slack-jawed bard, my father alerted me of my aspirations one full rotation of our moons before I was to depart from Trinsic. Having never caused any major strife or glee, save for birth, within my origins it was my inclination that I should follow direction and, so, I were thrust into the world.

Trinsic taught me many things, namely, nothing useful. Somewhere in the area of three years were spent in tutelage and study before I was assigned my duty and thrust back into the bosom of my youth, Britain. The remainder of my nineteenth winter was spent watching over a small portion of road. For reasons I cannot recall, and by the actions of those I cannot remember, I was given the great fortune of on set gilded foot-wear, one hatchet, and enough gold to remove myself from the area. Thusly, I left.

It was in this time that I supposed that I would not be a disappointment to my line. I would assume the second post popular role if Britannia. A mage. Making my way to The Isle Verity, I was accounted by three odd men, and promptly reduced their craniums to that of muddled sludge. Casting what could loosely be called sanity aside, I procured some amount of the residential oppression's clothing, at this time my flair for the dramatic was reborn, thus I stopped to nervously converse with the man whom, in later years I would discover, had investigated the incident. I'm fairly sure he has no idea who I am, and I'm fairly sure his lock would allow me entrance in the night as his throat would my dagger allude to moments later.

In this time I met Wayland, dear Wayland. I shall honor this man until the lot of us depart from this land. He aligned the tangents of my mind, and so it began. For future reference I shall innumerate my actions and the accompanying hilarity. Also, if you are reading this, I commend you. Either the snake has died, the explosive mechanism failed, the dart dulled, or the noxious gas dissipated with time, or, of course, you're reading this in the company of a quickly cooling corpse! Life is odd in this way friend, enjoy your read.

[in progress]

Expanded Appearance

A statuesque figure of bronze and black, porcelain and cloth, leather and metal, appears to have been crafted for a myriad of purposes. The skull mask that conceals the source of the murky hazel eyes smiled wickedly, as it always has. A uniform sculpt, each angle appearing the compliment it's opposite and peers, no seems, hatches, or any mechanical objects can be noted on the flawless avatar of the skull. No hair escapes the mask, instead a darkly hued cloak cascades and furls behind the figure. A doubled covers a somewhat loose fancy shirt that gives the slightest impression of concealed armaments. Two bands of bronze bind the dark cloth to cling to the bicep of each arm, however the for arm is allowed to hang loose, presumably for concealment. Leather gloves, kept in pristine condition, linger about a strange belt, appearing somewhat oblong but overall less than interesting. Dark leggings give little inclination of any spectacular modification, the boots follow in this fashion. Every movement of the above seems controlled and refined. From the pleasing baritone that seems unaltered by the addition of the mask, to the confident strides that carry the entire ensemble, before you stands, in varying multitude, Nh'bdy.