Honor: Devoted Name: Dargus Age: 42 Gender: Male Race: Hylian Place of Origin: Northern Civilian PWC: 3/2/1 Treasures: 75 Rupees Height: 6'0" Weight: 310 lbs. Equipment: The equipment Dargus carries is nothing out of the ordinary. He always wears his large leather coat, that reaches his knees and covers half of his hands. Under his coat is a stained, brown tunic, which has weathered many spills of whiskey and food over the years while rarely ever getting washed. His pants are made out of thick wool cloth, also dyed brown and very poorly made. His leather coat has many large pockets inside and out. In these he keeps an assortment of things, such as extra corks for his whiskey bottles, some carving knives, blocks of pine wood, and a mysterious leather book with no pages. The other two things that Dargus always has at his side are his old whiskey bottle, which he always keeps full despite his constant drinking, and a long pine walking staff, which he fashioned himself. Occasionally Dargus will adorn a leather, wide brimmed hat to keep the sun out of his face, to which he has tied a long string that he loops around his neck in case he wishes to take it off but still carry around. Appearance: If there was one word that might describe the feelings of those who view Dargus, or are close enough to smell him, it would be: repulsive. This persona isn't intentional, and it isn't even clear if Dargus himself is aware of his vile aura, but he is known well around the town of Nabooru as a big, drunken oaf. His grimy attire and long tangled beard match each other well, for as stained as his tunic is, an equal amount of dried whiskey and bread have cozied themselves inside the thick brown wires protruding from his face. Dargus' other features are not so pleasant either. His face is obscured by a very fat nose, wrinkled eyes, and bushy eyebrows. An inch of wet and dry sweat, along with dead skin and dirt cake his forehead, nose, and cheeks. His hands are also very grimy, colored black by dirt, and crowned by jagged yellow fingernails, which while short, look as if they have been chewed on. Dargus is a very large man, being six foot tall and with a very round belly. He easily takes up two seats when getting his nightly drink at the inn, which really isn't a problem since no one really has the stomach to sit near him. Personality: Dargus' personality is rather interesting. Having no social skills, Dargus is completely oblivious to the social hints and body language that often get thrown his way that suggest he isn't wanted. It is likely that during a conversation with another, especially with a pretty girl, Dargus will carry on the conversation much to far, while saying things that would be considered socially awkward. Dargus is happy to be himself, and nearly always acts with a cheerful demeanor. While he is slow and socially inept, he normally wears a smile on his face. While Dargus doesn't have many friends, he is willing to befriend anyone, given the chance, and when Dargus feels he is friends with someone, he will be a loyal one. Dargus is also very passionate when it comes to creating things with his hands. He always carries a carving knife and block of pine with him, both of which he places in his pocket. Oftentimes he will hike a few miles from his home to sit in the hills and carve, considering it his time to connect with nature. He also enjoys spending the evenings next to his fire, carving away at his pine. Residence: Dargus has a small log home on the outskirts of Nabooru, in the foothills of the mountains. It isn't the cleanest of residences, but it is home to Dargus. He never gets visitors, though he definitely wouldn't mind having some. They'd have to get over the stench, though. Pet: Dargus does not have any pets. He does, however, consider the many animals he has carved and placed throughout his house to be his friends. Backstory: Dargus' history is a complicated one, and one he has forced himself to forget. He is very much a different man than he once was, yet how could he not be? Yet, no one knows the past Dargus, not even Dargus. Sure, it may be buried deep within his psyche, locked away in his unconscious mind, but he has kept it there, and isn't likely to let it loose. Not on purpose anyway. Some traumatic event happened in Dargus' past, one that effected him like nothing else could, put him into a downward spiral that led him to the pit he has come to dwell in presently. What happened? He doesn't remember. To many nights wasted away at the mouth of an old whiskey bottle has led him to a man of the present. His memory has become washed to the point where he does often wonder of who he really is, what his past is, and while so many spend their lives living for the future, Dargus has begun to live for the past. The pain of his past has vanished in recent years, only being recalled occasionally by the touch of his leather book, a long forgotten piece of his prior life. He often pulls it from his jacket, strokes it, feels a jumbled mix of love and hate; yet he knows not where these emotions well up form. Around town Dargus is seen constantly drinking, always with a bottle of whiskey in his hand. The residents of Nabooru believe he is trying to drink away the pain, yet all they really know about him is that some four years ago, he moved to Nabooru, much to the begrudgement of the village. Needless to say Dargus made a very poor first impression upon his arrival, and has kept a foul taste in everyone's mouth ever since. Besides his disgusting appearance and foul smell, he nearly set his own house on fire during his first week. Word quickly spread throughout the area, which brought the attention on Dargus, allowing everyone to notice what an odd and repulsive man he seemed to be. The villagers of Nabooru noticed another odd behavior that Dargus exhibits, in that he carries around his old leather book without any pages. Whenever he touches it, or looks at it, they see that he seems to be lost in thought. Perhaps he is thinking of the past,they really don't know, but the book does seem to mean a great deal to him. On occasion he will pull it out, stare at it and stroke it a while, then, with a tear in his eye, place it back in his pocket. Today Dargus still lurks among the townsfolk of Nabooru, often trying and failing to make friends. He walks around the town and throughout the hills and mountains around Nabooru, walking stick in one hand, whiskey in the other.
This looks most excellent. I regret not being able to see the rest of the history, but Dargus is a curious character in that regard. This is certainly accepted as a Devoted level character and will be moved accordingly.
