Name: Wenthe N'ahe
Age: 28
Gender: Male
Race: Caeperntha
Birthday: 16th day of the 1st season
Hair: Darkest black with shades of red flitting through the strands.
Eyes: Silver-hued with a hint of chestnut at the edges.
Height: 6'5
Classification: Master Battle Cleric, Master Windmaker
Personality (outer and inner): Outwardly, he is charismatic. He enjoys having fun and is fiercely defensive when he chooses to be. Inwardly he is much the same. But the carefree attitude he shows most to others is not so nearly carefree on the inside.
Talents: Wind magic as birthright, healing, and potions adept. He is also trained in hand to hand combat and enjoys fighting with a sword.
Description: Shoulder-length black hair flows freely in layered waves framing a face sporting silver, almond shaped eyes. He is athletic looking with a carefree posture. His skin is a tanned olive color. Patches of spots can be seen near his hands and feet when visible. Small scars grace his forearms from years of battle.
A massive pair of black, feathery wings extend from his shoulder blades far above him poised proudly. The tips of the wings are just a lighter shade of black mixed with red. Each feather is just slightly translucent, giving the appearance of a black on black design.
His general clothing consists of leather breeches and boots, loose fittings shirts, leather tunics or jerkins. As they are made by the women in Caeperntha, the clothing is finely made with delicate embroidery.
History: He is a Wind Master and Battle Cleric, a noble of his race, a fearless fighter, and a womanizer. He is quick to laugh and loves to smile and always enjoys a good time. His errant ways created a rift between him and his father. When an offer to come and teach another year of classes at the Zal’anthia School of Instruction, he took it believing the year away from his father might soften the situation. And if any good looking students were there, all the more pleasant.
Picture (if applicable): Will get to it! ^_~
Writing sample (A minimum of 200 words):
He was late. He thrust a hand through his mussed hair as he moved quickly down the hall, his wings tucked tight against him. The ends dragged the ground unheeded, a fact that belied Wenthe's greater worry and frustration. Of course, he hated being indoors anyway. When he'd been offered the position to teach, he had foolishly believed he'd be teaching combat. Outdoors. He'd accepted generously without even asking if they'd had a specific position in mind when asking him.
Too late, he discovered he'd be teaching potions. In the dungeons. He glared in thought. What should have been a great oportunity was fast becoming worse than having to face his father's wrath at home. It was well known he hated closed in areas. While most of his people had long ago adapted to closed in areas, albeit still prefering wide areas, Wenthe had hated tight space even as a child. To be put in the dungeons meant there was more behind being asked to teach than a simple favor.
And now this; late on the first day of classes. He cursed himself all down the hall, down the tight steps, muttering under his breath no low decibel. Finally, he stood before the classroom door, taking deep breaths to compose himself. Unclenching his hands, he grasped the door handle, turning it with a flourish and bustling into the room with a brilliant smile on his face.
It was evident the students were anxious, but he let it pass unnoticed, preferring to act as though he was on time and his late entrance the most common place occurrence.
“Good morning, class! I assume you all know where you should be. This is first tier potions. I am your instructor, Wenthe N'ahe. You may refer to me as Lord N'ahe. Master N'ahe if you're so desperately inclined.” He canted his head to the side as he regarded his wards. He could tell the where sizing him up, wondering how much they could push him, if they could. He smiled fondly, remembering his own first years at school and thinking those same thoughts.
“Now then, introductions over, let's begin. Please take out your books and turned to chapter one.” He turned to the board behind him as the class moved to obey. This might actually turn out to be fun, he reasoned, if only he could stop the panick even now building beneath his skin. He idly wondered if he could convince the Grand Master to find a larger room, or just take the students outside to work.
Whoever had planned ill of him, he would plan to fight back. Afterall, wasn't it in his nature?
