Torghaith, The Wingless

Well, assuming i put this in the right place....




Personal Info:
Name: Torghaith, The Wingless
Age: 20 Years (assuming they develop mentally similarly to humans)
Gender: Male
Interests: Interesting/Unique things, Unraveling the mysteries of the world, Being a smartass
Dislikes: Boredom, Responsibilities/Duties, Seemingly randomly selected foodstuffs
Personality: Once he takes serious interest in something, he will chew through all the scrolls and other sources he can get his claws on until he feels satisfied. However, if he has no interest in the subject at hand, he will find any number of excuses why he cannot be bothered to put effort into it. He is also known to hoard things that often seem like junk to some, purely because he found it interesting in some way.
Another habit of his, is to meticulously prepare for any sort of situation, especially journeys, to the level where he has a plan in mind for the vast majority of possible situations that might arise, and many that are highly unlikely. This habit might be explained by the fact that he goes into a slight panic mode when he suddenly has to improvise on the spot.
Fears: Unknown

General Appearance:
Length: about 15 meters from head to tail (or 50 Feet, you savages). (Provided illustration a bit stubby.)
Scales: Muddy green/brown color
Eyes: They stare into your soul... Or maybe just at that porkchop you have...
Appearance: The most obvious feature is his distinct lack of wings. He does have some small irregular bumps where they would normally sprout, giving ground to speculations about birth defects, as much as accidents and intentional de-winging. Decreasing the number of false theories flying out there(ba dum tss) is not helped by the fact that he denies none of these, and actually seems to tell a different story each time someone asks him about it.

Tribe Information and Status:
Tribe: Earthwing
Rank: Semi-Freeloader. He does odd jobs for odd payment.
Family: Unknown to anyone but him, most likely.
Mate: None that he knows of.
Hatchlings: None that he knows of.

Skills and abilities:
Having no wings forces one to get creative in many fields. As such, he became quite adept at running over long distances, climbing stuff, and not falling off high places. Furthermore, he adopted a more convenient method of hunting: namely, being camouflaged, throwing some bait out in front of him, and just waiting until something comes close enough to be instantly killed by a sudden strike.
Additionally, he seems to be less bothered or hindered by his disability than one would expect. In fact, sometimes when he goes somewhere far away with a group, he even arrives a bit before the fliers, even though they left him behind ages ago.(Special Ability, hint hint)
However, his lifestyle lead to him being generally inexperienced in the ways of the world, and as mentioned before, he cannot handle unexpected situations well at all.
Combat Style: Since any enemy capable of flight would have an advantage over him, he tends to avoid open conflicts with such foes. When he must fight, as with hunting, he prefers the stealthy, quick kill approach to minimize the risk. Failing that, trickery, and as last stand, brute force is also employed, to varying degrees of success.

Background:
History: Well... since I'm new here and all, i dont want to include something in his history that is completely against lore. Lets just say he had a normal life until now, and I'll just wing it from there... (ba dum tss)
RP sample:
Torghaith was lying low on the forest ground, lost deeply in thought and concentration
Internal: "He said he wants a medium sized boar... what is medium size? Bigger than a newborn but smaller than a fat one? Then pretty much any one is good, isn't it?"
He looks at the bait again, confirming that it is still there, and still no prey is near.
Internal: "Why did he even hire me to do it? Surely there is enough boar meat in stock to begin with... and the payment is a rock... I swear, if it will not be as exciting as he promised, i will stuff the boar down his throat sideways... Although... he wanted it alive... wonder why... Fresh meat maybe? Or just wanted to watch me struggle with the task? Maybe he is watching me right now..."
Hearing the rustle of bushes, perfectly timed as it was, suddenly seems to support his theory, up until the moment he realizes that the bait is gone, and so is the prey... He suddenly feels like headbutting a tree. With a sigh, he gets up from his hiding spot, shrugs off most of the foliage and dirt on himself, and heads out looking for another spot now that this one is ruined.
"That rock better be interesting..."

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