Cyril "Rissatore" Delfe

*GENERAL*
Full Name: Cyril Delfe
How did you find us?: Horizon showed me the forum, he's cool like that.
Hero Title: Rissatore
Age: 20
Gender: Male
Sexual Preference: Heterosexual

*PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION*
Height: 6'
Weight: 211 lbs
Hair Color and Style: (See Photo)
Eye Color: Dark Brown
Clothing: (See Photo)

Spoiler:

*ORBS*
Green: 0
Red 0
Yellow 0
Blue 0

*STATS*
Mastery: Strength
Combo Points:
HP: 270 [Hit Points]
MP: 100 [Mana Points]
Strength: 50
Skill: 20
Will: 20

*EQUIPMENT and SKILLS*
Melee Weapon: Rusty Cleaver
Ranged Weapon: Splintered Long Bow
Known Spells: Fireball, Inferno, Enflame
Armor: [Purchase in Shops]
Accessories: [Purchase in Shops]
Abilities:

*INVENTORY*
Gold: 500
Weapons: Rusty Cleaver, Splintered Long Bow
Armor: None
Accessories: None
Usable Items: None
Key Items: None

History

Cyril was raised in the guild, his mother being a hero herself. She wasn't a major hero, or a well known hero. In fact she was a rather lazy hero. When Cyril was old enough he had to start doing everything for his mother, getting her food, water, cleaning the room, moving furniture, anything his mother didn't want to do he had to do. And on top of all this he also had to train to be a hero.

There wasn't anything really special about Cyril as a hero. He wasn't good with will, and he couldn't hit the ground with a ranged weapon, even if he tried. All he could do was swing a sword, cleaver, mace, any melee weapon, and wear heavy armor. Though even if he didn't necessarily think himself special for it, others did. Some of the other Apprentices were jealous, and envious of his strength from all his chores and hard-work for his mother and the guild. The other Apprentices plotted against him, deciding to hire some bandits to attack him while he picked apples for his mother.

Cyril was minding his own business, picking apples for his mother when suddenly an arrow sang by his head, cutting off some of his hair and plucking the apple straight from his hand, pinning it to a tree. Cyril quickly ducked behind a rock, another arrow and a crossbow bolt pinning themselves in a tree he was standing in front of. Cyril stayed behind the rock, unsheathing his cleaver quietly as he listened to the bandit's taunts. Cyril shouted back at the bandits, "If you're so tough, come over here and fight me like men!", of course they all laughed, responding with "Men don't fight boys!" Cyril's face went hot with rage, his knuckles going white from the grip he maintained on his cleaver.

Cyril gathered his courage, jumping out from behind the rock and shouting as he charged at the bandits, some of whom were too dumbfounded to respond, others letting their arrows and bolts fly towards him, only glancing his cleaver which he held as a small shield in front of his chest. He reached the bandits and swung at the first one's chest, pumping all his fury into the cleaver, the sanguine fluid staining his clothes and cleaver as he moved to the next bandit, swinging down at his shoulder, embedding the cleaver into it. As Cyril pulled the cleaver out of the bandit's shoulder he felt a sharp pain in his leg and fell onto his knees. His leg was hot and numb, he looked down and saw a crossbow bolt in his leg, deep inside from the close range.

The bandit's all laughed as they raised their weapons for the final blow, but another Apprentice shot the executing bandit, the sword hitting Cyril's back sideways and sliding onto the ground along with the dead bandit, but as the Apprentice was about to fire another arrow at the second bandit, he was stabbed from behind by a third, unseen bandit. Cyril clenched his fist around his cleaver, shouting as he heaved himself onto his feet and wrenched the bolt from his leg with an exhausted shout of pain. He swung at the second bandit, catching his neck with the cleaver, the life fluid flowing from him as he fell to his knees, trying to hold the life into him with his hand. Cyril limped over to the bandit who killed the archer Apprentice, but he fled before Cyril was even close. Cyril then passed out.

Cyril awoke on a bed in the Guild, his leg was neatly bandaged and he was wearing new clothes, his old clothes and the cleaver leaning on a wall beside the bed. Cyril swore revenge on the bandit who slew the Apprentice he never got to know, the one who saved his life in spite of the obvious danger and losing battle. He would slay every bandit he could find just to reach the one who killed the Apprentice. Cyril gave up that ambition a year ago though, he now performs the quests he can, hoping to become a great hero of legend one day.

Who said "Law is order in liberty, and without order liberty is social chaos."?
-Archbishop Ireland

Hell to the yeah! Me and this brute shall go far in these lands bringing back ruthless and the mystical arts of Will!

*50* experience points have been awarded