Name: Jeff Hounsell (aka. Omni, Je, or Kappa.)
OOC Journal: llesnouh or llesnouh_dnd at LiveJournal.com
Contact Info: Omni Ursinal (AIM), email@example.com (MSN), firstname.lastname@example.org (e-mail)
Name: Glyph Croix (pronounced as Gliff Cross)
Race: Boreal Halfling (Artificial Eiflan-Boreal amalgamation)
Class: Bounty Hunter/Gunner
Glyph looks like a rather normal specimen of an Eiflan, until you note any distinguishing features. He's tall, with a lithe and wiry build, and clean-shaven. Past that, things begin to get weird about Glyph. His hair is a very deep shade of blue, hanging down to his tail bone but kept in a loose braid, with one long sheet of hair kept loose to hang in front of his face. His skin is a sickly grey colour, akin to that of a corpse long kept out of sunlight, and criss-crossed with a great many scars, both old and new. Only a few of the scars reach his face, however, reaching up along his cheeks. His eyes are also blue in colour, though most people wouldn't know that, as he wears a blindfold or very darkly tinted glasses in order to hide them. His fingernails are thick, and end in points sharp enough to be called claws, or perhaps talons. Usually Glyph wears a simple looking brown jacket and vest of studded leather, with sturdy homespun slacks, leather boots, and a homespun undershirt to avoid chafing in his armor. A pair of pistols rest on his hips, along with a long dagger sheathed at the small of his back, beneath his coat. Glyph's blindfold is a deep brown-black, as if it had been white once, but has been stained with old blood and travel dust, and never bleached out; it is also stitched with an ornate "N" on one end, as if it had been made by folding and refolding a handkerchief, perhaps belonging to someone he'd known once. Lastly, Glyph has a pair of curved horns jutting from just above each temple, pointed forward, as well as bluntly pointed ears which are angled somewhat downward.
Glyph was created as an experiment of sorts by Professor F. Llesnouh, out of a simple bounty hunter, who only lived to the next ingot. Llesnouh had many experiments before Glyph, and would have many afterward, judging from the number on his holding cell. 16402; if one were to check the logs of Glyph's creation and subsequent classification as a failed experiment, one would note that the hypothesis was "Can I create my own Boreal by amalgamating the ever-changing Eiflan psyche with the essence of evil itself?". Glyph cannot be considered a full-fledged Boreal, or even something akin to a Halfling, as he wasn't born in the traditional method, but rather made to be as he is. His body was changed as well, to allow the Boreal blood to more easily mix with his Eiflan self; the horns of the Halfling his blood came from were duplicated and grafted onto his temples, and eyes akin to a true Boreal's replaced his own. Glyph's body rejected the demon's other attributes, such as wings among other things, leaving his sunlight-deprived body deeply scarred and tainted.
Before Llesnouh got to him, Glyph was actually Maxwell, but during the tortuous process of being changed and reformed, Glyph emerged from the man's shattered mind, easily supplanting Maxwell's psyche. Maxwell became a kind of ghost. Where his previous self was kind, devoted to his country, and selfless, the chaotic persona existing alongside Glyph changed him fundamentally, bringing to the fore previously forgotten feelings of rebellion, selfishness, and a lust for all things pleasurable in this life, and the next. Glyph cares little how heinous his vices may be, but only when severely stressed will he ever seek to drown out the world in those carnal pursuits. Usually, the man hits the closest tavern and gets quite liquored up, reducing his blood's instinctual "ranting" to a minor annoyance, where he remains pleasantly drunk until sleep claims him, and he moves on afterward. Rarely is Glyph in one place for any length of time, as the locals of most cities either see him as some kind of twisted abomination, or he winds up in the wrong bed; it's hard to tell which happens more frequently.
Glyph's personality is easily described: self-reliant. He's mean, brash, cocky, self-assured, confidant, and doesn't think that he needs anyone but himself to get by. After all, he's survived worse than the world has thrown at him since, so it was easy for him to adopt that mindset. Glyph has a somewhat softer side, though; he loves children, to the point of perpetual poverty for himself in order to keep those orphans near to his place of residence happy, fed, and safe. Glyph's Boreal blood has made him a bit of a hedonist jerk, and he spends his free time drinking and enjoying the company of just about any woman who crosses his lap. Of course, he's also overly protective of his charges, including most women, and children, and loyal perhaps to a fault to those who have purchased his services, which isn't to say he's some kind of saint. Due to his mingled nature, Glyph isn't above taking jobs of a less than savory nature, such as kidnapping, extortion, murder, and worse, though he's turned down jobs that involve harming kids. Glyph holds no special place in his heart for anyone who does anything; Mage or Priest, saint or criminal, he doesn't really care who you or others think you are, what he cares about is what you've shown yourself to be. Also due to his nature, Glyph is capable of experiencing depths of dislike, foul-temper, or even simple hatred, that most Eiflans are incapable of, and is a notorious grudge-keeper, nursing the thoughts of vengeance for as long as it takes him to exact them.
Glyph uses a combination of newfangled guns and old-style thrown weaponry, to be effective at both close and long ranges of combat.
When fighting with guns, he tends to dual wield, compensating for the recoil with the enhanced strength that his Boreal infusion affords him.
Glyph's eyes allow him to see perfectly in any kind of darkness as if in a well-lit area, though his vision is somewhat blurred and indistinct when confronted with light, and colours seem muted to him.
Glyph's guns are lightweight, low-recoil weapons, seeming to prefer accurate shooting over overpowering hand-cannons. When asked about this, Glyph would usually respond that, "It ain't the size of yer boom-bang, it's how ya shoot."