Taskar is an orange Dragonborn, his scales being pretty evenly colored, making him somewhat less lizard-like in appearance than some of his blotchy brethren. He stands 6’7” tall, about average for his kind, and being more muscled than is par for his people, he weighs in around 310 lbs. His snount is relatively protrusive, giving his face a more draconic than humanoid bent. His tell are his ears, which he tries hard to control as he doesn’t like the animalistic appearance he thinks they lend. They stand out from his face when angered, alluding to the visage of the raging creature for which his people are named. When saddened, they droop, etc., etc. He keeps his hair-scales trimmed at slightly past shoulder length. His golden eyes’ animal-like vertical pupils are offset by a very strong glint of intellect.
Taskar wears dull grey-green scale armor. The armor itself is unadorned, though well kept, and it’s difficult to tell how old or how much action it [or he] has seen. He has a “helmet” that lays across his face much like the armor on a horse. He tends to keep it hanging from his belt when out of combat. This piece is readily noticable as not being part of the scale set he’s wearing. It’s a smokey grey metal that Taskar attempts to keep clean. On it’s flat surface is inscribed a Draconic symbol, perhaps a family crest of sign of power. When not trying to make an impression, he wears a plain brown tunic over his armor. On his belt he keeps several pouches, his throwing hammers, and his scabbard. Unlike most of his species [judging from the images I’ve found thus far], Taskar wears heavy boots instead of going barefoot.
I almost forgot: Taskar also carries a light sheild into battle. It’s large for a one-arm sheild. It’s shaped something like a rounded, twisted arrowhead and made of a nondescript metal. He wears it on his back when outside of combat, doesn’t make a habit of carrying it or his helmet around when in civilization, though it’s a rare occasion to find him without his armor. Because of this, no one readily knows what his body looks like, but his head and face are scar-less and well taken care of, the very image of draconic youth. His three-fingered hands are also well maintained, though his knuckles are constantly scraped or bloody, as if his was accustomed to hitting things…
Being of Dragonborn heritage, Taskar Rence was educated and trained as any Dragonborn youth would be. He studied hard and learned the lessons of honor, pride, and history. However, as far as Dragonborn warriors go, Taskar is somewhat…squiffy. He doesn’t possess the fierce drive for honor [though he has been know to crave a little prestige] as others of his ilk might. Should a fellow tavern-goer be in err in his retelling of themight of the ancient Dragonborn empires long past, Taskar will be quick to correct him in a good-humoured, aloofly condescending way. Taskar’s a humanoid dragon, and he knows it. He’s more than happy to throw his weight around to set the record straight, but it’s more for the entertainment value than a bruised ego. He’d rather be bashing goblin heads or spending hard-earned treasure on ale for new friends than arguing politics. Likewise, Taskar greatly reveres his Dragonborn elders, his forebearers, and the dragons from which they descend, but religious fervor failed to capture him as a youth. Due to recent events regarding Bahamut and some skellies, however, Taskar is weighing the idea of worship seriously for the first time.
Despite not being as zealous as his kin, he is still very prideful as far as the races of the world go. He is willing to die for a cause or someone who means a great deal to him. He takes his personal honor seriously. His personal honor just happens to be the type that doesn’t prevent him from attempting a sneak attack now and again.
Having completed his rite of passage, Taskar set out into the wide world determined to become a warlord worthy of poems and songs to be passed down throughout the ages. This drive quickly waned as he soon realized that there were myriad peoples and motivations beyond what he had been brought up to know of Good [honor, blood, pride] and Evil [greed, betrayal, cowardice]. After this realization, Taskar spent several years wandering the world, exploring peoples and places, and learning, trading, and observing. Sating his wanderlust, Taskar determined it was time to get back on the “becoming a great warlord” thing. Unfortunately, that’s not something they explicitly teach young Dragonborn whelps. His heroes of terrible conflicts past had had greatness handed to them by their wartorn eras. Knowing few, if any, such opportunities would present themselves to Taskar, he determined he’d start small. After a spell of employment as a militia trainer, military advisor, and bodyguard in several large villages and small towns, Taskar found himself in Fallcrest. Decided this perhaps wasn’t the path to glory, he went to the tavern to ponder his options. There he saved a rambunctious halfling from a night [or two, or three] in the town’s jail. He came across a handbill advertising an archealogist who needed finding in a dig near the neighboring Winterhaven. Deciding that altruistic adventuring, not to mention sizable gold rewards, were a much better start toward warlordhood than militias, Taskar sought out the roudiest, most reliable, most dangerous looking folk in the tavern. He proposed to them an alliance, perhaps just for this job, perhaps for the foreseeable future, and convinced the wizard that he owed Taskar one. Thus the Saggitarian Nexus was born.
Now with Aecris!