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Berkeley
Edward Berkeley, 'Ned'.
| Name | Berkeley |
|---|---|
| Status | Active |
| Occupation | Blackwold, Thief, Outlaw. |
| Age | Early thirties. |
| Race | Man |
|---|---|
| Residence | He wanders the Chetwood with his fellow Blackwolds, he also has a residence in Bree-town. |
| Kinship | None. |
| Outward Appearance | Race/Ethnicity: Bree-lander Skin Tone: His skin would be riddled with various tan lines, although would naturally be rather pale, simply suggesting prolonged exposure to the outside world. He certainly has something of a healthy glow to him, his cheeks slightly reddened beneath stubble that would appear and disappear depending on how busy he would be. His hands and feet would be calloused and contain a few sores, natural to any working man, although in general his skin would be fairly soft and indicative of a general cleanliness (if not an overboard sense of hygiene.) Height: Five foot, nine inches. Build: A lean if not tall man, he would be strikingly average in build, a touch stout perhaps with fairly broad shoulders and a broad chest, although neither muscle or fat would be a prominent feature of his form – a little of both would be seen, although neither in plenty or excess. His legs and arms would perhaps be thicker than average, showing more muscle than his torso would, suggesting that he would be fairly agile. However, this muscle has evidently been built up over time and probably unintentionally, simply brought about by an active life rather than due to any significant attempt to build up strength and fitness. Eyes: His eyes would be a delightful shade of mint green, although would be rather pale perhaps. Naturally his eyes would be quite small and fairly close together, with an oval appearance more on the rounded side rather than direct egg shapes. When he chose to set his gaze upon you, one would notice his eyes to be distinctly lacking in life, the orbs as lifeless as the grave, although occasionally a rare twinkle might be seen to creep into them. Hair: Despite a general appearance of youth, his hair would be grey before its time. Something of a silver fox perhaps, he would stand out a little with his moonbeam locks. Streaks of darker hair mingle with white and grey creating a lush mix of greyscale colours on his head. He would style it short but not too short, keeping some growth in it. It would naturally be rather thick and should someone ruffle it, they would be surprised to find how soft it would be to the touch, almost downy in its texture. Tattoos, Piercings, Marks, Scars, Etc.: A jagged scar would cut its way through his eye, leaving the skin mangled and something of a literal eyesore to the onlooker. The only other mark on him would be the letter B branded on his forearm, standing prominent as a stark contrast to the softly tanned skin on his arm.
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Background
Born in the idyllic village of Combe in 2986 T.A. the only child of a loving couple. Few could predict that this up untill now happy tale would turn sour, Many a summer's day spent fishing by the lake in relative peace and happiness. Somewhat of a loner even then despite having friends. None of this could prepare young Edward for what was to come.
When he was seven years old, everything changed. Suddenly wrested away from this idyllic bliss following the sudden disappearance of his father. Everything changed for the worse. Unable to support them both, His mother took to prostitution in Beggar's Alley and thus the young Edward fell in with the wrong sort of crowd. His family name fell into obscurity. After years the denizens of Combe forgot the Berkeley's by and large but some would still remember. If you lived in Beggar's Alley between 2993 and 3004 T.A you would surely remember him.
As an adult man he now wanders through the trees of the Chetwood, Thick and dense. A coarsely spoken man. Jaded, a mask obscuring half of his features. He barks orders to a motley crew of men, Murderers, Thieves, and rapists one and all. Yet there would be no life nor enthusiasm to his mint-green eyes or for the killing to be done that day.
You might just meet him, he might just like you. If you're lucky it will be by a burning hearth over a drink. He has no airs and graces. He simply wishes to make his way in the world. A man does what he has to do to survive.
| Friends | Few. |
|---|---|
| Relatives | John Berkeley, (Father, Deceased.) Susan Berkeley. (Mother, Deceased.) |
| Rivals/Enemies | Any unfortunate enough to be his victim or get in his way, though it would rarely be personal. Only business. |
| Loves | Peace and quiet, when he is able to slip away from the other Blackwolds on business, Good food. Plenty of gin, and he has been known to derive pleasure from hunting. Of course, Ned likes the touch of a woman as much as any man. |
|---|---|
| Hates | Incompetence, Those who would consider themselves better than others due to the circumstances of their birth, Southerners and some of the more violent, vicious men among the Blackwolds whom he has to indulge simply to make ends meet. |
| Motivation | To some day amass enough wealth to leave his life behind him. |
| Quotes | It's a dog eat dog world out there, You either eat. Or be eaten. You've got to be tough to get on in this life. |
