[Arodion]

((see my character submission for more detail))
Name: Arodion Grazznic
Race: Rejected Angel
Age: timeless, appears around 22 though
Skin tone: color of the dead
Hair: black
Eyes: fully black with silver pupils
Weapon: A Katana 'Namara' and the Gauntlet of Sara'Dun
The gauntlet of Sara'Dun hides a medium range single shot firearm. Loaded with Silver bullets, each clip holds 12 rounds

Status: Mercenary black Knight for Slaggar
Temperment: calm, sure of himself, with no regard truly to right or wrong.
Story: A century of travel has depleated Arodion's worldly wealth. As He senses Slaggar's power begin to grow Arodion feels he may have finnaly found a worldly ally. Never directly contacting Slaggar, Arodion works for his boss through a series of letters and messangers. Even Arodion himself doesn't know his ultimate goal in this growing war.
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Arodion leaned back in his chair, gazing around the tavern at the assembled masses. Scenting each person individualy, thinking of what they would taste like, and how much sport each would offer. He carefully eyes a rather large Draconian at the bar. Four empty glasses of ale sat infront of the ebat, a fight would be easy to pick, and Dragon Kin had a very rich flavor. Arodion goes to stadn up but a hand lands on his shoulder, forcing him down. The newly appeared man takes a seat across from Arodion, carefully making sure the claok on his head hides his red skin and small horns.

"You're late," Arodion states calmly as he sips at a large bottle of wine.

"Travel isn't easy for my kind lately, not even in the other planes," the creature hisses back

"When have I ever cared for your excuses Snarlik, just give me my orders"

"Fine Angel Boy, take your damn orders and rush of to another promotion. I for one hope you die on this one, for too long I've had to..." The lesser demon never finished his rant as Arodion took the scroll case from him and quickly swung his katana through the Demon's neck. The body and head disapeared in a flash of smoke and Arodion walked out of the tavern, the bartender knowing better than to ask questions of his dark regular.

Arodion read over the contents of the case, scrolling over his mission detail, checking for names and locations.
"So the old bugger wants me in Trias tomorrow? Wonder what he has planned?" Arodion says to himself as he walks across the road, large black wings spreading from under his cloak. A sharp flick of his wings lifts the Angel of Mutilations into the air and up out of view with each beat.