Difference between revisions of "Zectaras Neithurus"

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m (Sebastian Romu moved page Zectaras to Zectaras Neithurus without leaving a redirect: renamed)
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<!--character quote-->
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=Identity=
==Identity==
;Name(s):Zectaras  Neithurus
;Name(s):Zectaras  Neithurus
;Title(s) and Rank(s):<!--list of titles and ranks-->
;Title(s) and Rank(s):<!--list of titles and ranks-->
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;Profession:Priest of Neithur
;Profession:Priest of Neithur


=Description=
==Description==
;Ethnicity:[[Waejiran (people)|Waejiran]]
;Ethnicity:[[Waejiran (people)|Waejiran]]
;Gender:Male
;Gender:Male
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:<!--physical description, including common manner of dress-->
:<!--physical description, including common manner of dress-->


=Personality=
==Personality==
:<!--personality description-->
:<!--personality description-->


=About=
==About==
;Home:<!--location-->
;Home:<!--location-->
;History:<!--short biography-->
;History:<!--short biography-->
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=Connections=
==Connections==
;Familial:<!--list of relatives-->
;Familial:<!--list of relatives-->
;Personal:<!--list of people-->
;Personal:<!--list of people-->
;Professional:<!--list of people-->
;Professional:<!--list of people-->


=Stories=
==Stories==
:[[Dead (fifty word fantasy)]]
:[[Dead (fifty word fantasy)]]


=See Also=
==See Also==
:<!--list of related articles-->
:<!--list of related articles-->


[[Category:Contemporary Person]]
[[Category:Contemporary Person]]

Revision as of 21:31, 3 February 2020

Identity

Name(s)
Zectaras Neithurus
Title(s) and Rank(s)
Culture
Waejiran
Profession
Priest of Neithur

Description

Ethnicity
Waejiran
Gender
Male
Age
years old, (<--Birth-->YG -- <--Death-->YG)
Height
metres ( feet, inches))
Build
, kilograms ( pounds)
Appearance

Personality

About

Home
History
First Encounter with Neitlumar
I remember the smell more than anything. The rancid scent of old blood, the air filled with the sweet heavy taste of meat that was left out in the sun too long... and they way they moved. First just slowly shambling about, some sniffing the air, some peering about with what remained of their eyes, others snapping their head in the direction of every sound.
Once they sensed we were close, they charged straight at us, mouths agape and clawing at the air, like they might pull themselves forward with greater speed.
We were trained, we had been told what to expect, and we were not ready. Four of us had managed to draw our swords before they hit our line. Three of my brothers stood frozen in terror. Another pair fled screaming, and the last collapsed into a sobbing wreck.
It was mutual slaughter. They just kept pressing, ignored their injuries, and seemingly immune to pain. We stood our ground as best we could hacking and thrusting at the mob of bodies. We cut off limbs, and they didn't slow. They only stopped when the blow was directly fatal; a stab through the heart, or a severed head.
In the end we... three of us... survived. Neithur be praised.

Connections

Familial
Personal
Professional

Stories

Dead (fifty word fantasy)

See Also