Snixar

==Appearance==
As one who's been in a good number of fights, Snixar has taken a preference to light mail in even the most casual situations. More than happy to don heavy platemail when the time calls, he has a mild distaste for leather and cloth, however he holds nothing against those who do wear it.
His causal armor consists of light mail protecting his chest and legs, while his boots and gloves are made up of dyed leather with small plates attached to the front for flexibility. Across his midsection is a tough belt made of the same dyed leather. Atop his shoulders reside a pair of matching mail spaulders. While he generally disapproves of cloth armor, he holds onto a special black hat given to him long ago by a friend, occasionally wearing this around when unthreatened.
==History==
The Schilwings were an interesting bunch, but some might argue that "James" broke the mold. The Schilwings were a group that had a small house on the outskirts of Stormwind City. During childhood, up until his early teens, he was an innocent and passive, but curious child. He had shown interest in just about everything imaginable, as most children would. It wasn't until his parents had decided to further his studies in alchemy, the family business, that things started to roll downhill.
James had always been fond of the professions, especially engineering and blacksmithing, and the minor training exercises presented by his parents proved to be enough of a sense of security. When he had grown to the age of sixteen, he had learned of the constant state of war throughout Azeroth and as a result, he decided to increase the frequency of his training, often bringing wares from his family's home to Stormwind, where they maintained a small shop within the Park District. Meeting new people, and especially the other races, was certainly a shock to him at first, but he learned to tolerate and even appreciate some of their works. Two years passed like this, and James was just fine with that for the time being. Everything was starting to look up, right up until the assassination.
It was a typical morning, day, and night. James had begun to walk home on his nineteenth birthday, thinking about an attractive red-headed girl who also participated in the same Stormwind arms training exercises he did. His parents had told him to go ahead on home earlier, leaving them to pack up the shop without him, as he gladly took that offer. As he opened the door to his home, he quickly shut himself inside, making his way to his room and beginning to write out a recipe for a love potion that had spontaneously popped into his head. Minutes passed as he thought hard about the properties of herbs to be used, when he heard a familiar knock. Putting the inventive recipe-in-progress aside, James was about to answer the door when he heard a 'thud' against the ground just outside, followed by silence. Suddenly cautious, wondering if this were some sort of surprise training exercise but dreading worse, the young adult had reached for a weapon from the weapon rack by the door, drawing an ornate steel hammer. As he opened the door, he encountered nothing awaiting him.
<<Lots of work to do>>
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