Group 3

[Tarbo]

This group has been discontinued. Its players should be returned to the pool by its host.


The following nine characters now compose Group 3.


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Player: Morvai
Character name: Kynth Arha - level 2
Sex: male
Height: 6 “11” alot taller then a regular elf
Weight: 176 pounds
Age: 264

Other descriptions: Kynth Arha has black hair which he wears likes shades do, with the only exception that he has dreadlocks. He has pale skin even for a druchii. His eyes are light bleu and he has a scar on his left cheek. He wears polished black steel armour with no house symbols. Under need his armour he wears a dark bleu shirt, black baggy pants and black boots. He has a skull tattooed on his right upper arm.

Character class: Warrior

Character background: Kynth was the only son of a black smith in a small village near Clar Karond. His father send him to the trainings camps to become a warrior. He trained hard and proved to have a strong sword arm. Soon he was elected to lead his regiment and he trained with the other lordlings twice a day.
Kynth’s fighting skill grew and so did his arrogance. One day he challenged a reaver for a dual till the first one bleed. Kynth was no match for the reaver and the reaver laughed at him. The reaver made a clean deep cut in Kynth left cheek, so that every time he looked in the mirror, he would be reminded at his failure.
Kynth became more down to earth after this and lived a couple of years in peace with himself.
One day Kynth was in the field fighting beastmen. His regiment was mostly dead, he and a druchii that held the standard where the only ones left. They where standing in a forest and on a moment 2 beastmen come charging at them from out of nowhere. Kynth feared for his life but commanded the only remaining druchii to stand strong and hold position. The first beastmen attack the standard bearer with a high aimed blow from his axe so that he could separate the elf’s head from his torso. The beastmen never got the change to do this because Kynth killed him before he could strike. Upon doing this Kynth forgot about his own opponent, the sudden pain in his side reminded him about that. When Kynth felled towards the ground he thought that this was his end and al went black in front of his eyes.
Kynth awoke after what have seemed years in the forest. The beastmen that had attacked him lay before him filled with bolts. His wounds were hasty bound with the ropes from his standard.
There was no one too been seen, despite al the evidence that people had protected him and looked after him. Kynth didn’t bother with that he had had weird dream about a lady in black robes that told him that this was not the way of living.
He couldn’t remember much of it later, the only difference was that he was now almost obsessed with the dead. He asked every scholar for everything that had to do with the dead. He even tattooed a skull on his arm.
When the temple took notice of this they quickly branded him a Morai-heg follower. When Kynth heard about this he fled toward the mountains. There he started thinking about it and he came to the conclusion that he was a Morai-heg follower. First this scared him, but he quickly accepted this just like he had accepted dead.
Now he wanders the land in search of others like him who could teach him his new found belief.

Stats
Weapon Skill: 4
Strength: 5
Toughness: 3
Dexterity: 5
Intelligence: 4

Equipment: short Sword, short Sword, staff, dagger, bow, 4 throwing knives, Medium Armour, Cloak.

skills: two weapon fighting, unarmed combat

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Player: Mel'Rayna
Name: Mel'Reyna - Level 2
Sex: Female
Character Height and Weight: 5'11" / 125 pounds
Character Age: 95

Other Descriptions: Dark purple eyes, glossy black hair that reaches down to just above her waist and pale skin, just a bit paler than most dark elves. She wears a loincloth and halter top both made of black silk leaving most of her skin exposed, light leather boots lined with fur and has a rune of Khaine tatooed on her lower back, as well as having blood red lipstick (made with real blood of course!) and long nails painted in the same color. She also wears a few engraved golden bracelets on each arm and an elegant ring topped with a ruby, as well as two golden flesh hooks as earrings.

Character Class: Trainee of Khaine.

Character Background: Mel'Reyna accepted to train at the great temple of Ghrond since she was quite young, in part because of her older sister Mel'Kalya who was over twice her age and was one of the hags protecting the Cauldrons of Blood kept there. In reality, her sister had only brought her there in the first place so that she could use Mel'Reyna as a pawn to take out her rivals before disposing of her. Now that Mel'Reyna had undergone a decent amount of training at the temple, Mel'Kalya decided that she was finally ready to be of use to her. One night, they met in Mel'Kalya's room where she explained what was supposedly going on to Mel'Reyna. She told her that another hag, Herathi, was actually a follower of Slaanesh sent to infiltrate the temple and cause havoc...she had also coincidentally been Mel'Kalya's bitter rival for over a century. Of course, her older sister knew that she'd never be able to resist such an opportunity to prove herself to Khaine, especially by killing a traitor in his own temple, she just hoped she was up to the task.

That same night, Mel'Reyna found Herathi, bathing in one of the cauldrons, and the thought of killing her as well as the smell of warm blood sent her into an extreme frenzy, greater than any she'd felt before. The hag had left her weapons on a table nearby, but Mel'Reyna pounced on her inside the cauldron before she could react. She stabbed her sister's unarmed rival over two dozen times before finally letting her limp body sink to the bottom of the pool of blood. As she stepped out of the cauldron, completely covered in blood, she saw her sister entering the room as well, clapping and smiling wickedly.

-"Very well done, sister, our God would surely have been pleased...if not for the fact that you just assassinated one of his devoted servants, of course."

-"What? You said she was a worshipper of Slaanesh!"

-"Oh, did I? Oh well, that's a shame, isn't it? So now, I get to kill my sister, the one who assassinated poor Herathi...talk about killing two birds with one stone, huh?"

Mel'Reyna's heart was already beating faster than it ever had as she fell back into the intense frenzy she'd been in just a few minutes ago and charged towards her treacherous sister. Mel'Kalya parried her sister's attacks, but Mel'Reyna kept going and charged into her, knocking her into the wall. The impact made both of them lose their weapons, and as her older sister tried reaching one of the blades on the ground, Mel'Reyna pounced on her like she had done to the other hag. She was on top of her sister's back in an instant, and since she didn't have her weapons, she put her hands over her sister's face and dug her long nails into her cheeks and eyes. She felt the warm blood on her hands, but by now Mel'Kalya was screaming in pain and she knew the witch elf guards could come in at any moment, so she got off of her older sister's back, ran over to the dead hag's table and took her weapons and her cloak which she used to hide the fact that she was covered in blood, not that that kind of thing was very frowned upon at the temple anyways. She managed to get away from there easily enough before her sister could tell the guards what happened, but now there was no way she could go back, even other temples would be too dangerous since she could be recognized at any time. She'd have to find another path to serve the God of Murder, at least for now anyways...

Stats:
Weapon Skill: 6
Strength: 2
Toughness: 2
Dexterity: 6
Intelligence: 5

Skills: Two weapons, Uncontrollable Frenzy. Acrobatics, Ambidexterity.

Equipment: Short sword X2, ceremonial dagger. light armour, whip.

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Player: King of Fools
Name: Andronar Venomblade - Level 2
Age: 125
Height: 5'9
Weight: 130lbs

Appearance: Andronar's charming and initially roguish attitude tend to cover the fact that he is one of the most manipulative and crafty Dark Elves in the business. He has long white hair that he sometimes keeps in a neatly tied ponytail. He also has royal purple tinted eyes. His features are high and thin like most dark elves his age and he is slimly muscular.

Class: Trainee of Khaine

History: Andronar was born into the wrong Druchii family. His original family name was Andronar Blackaxe. Born into a family of big built (for Dark Elves) warriors he never fit in with his three other brothers and his widowed father Drumius Blackaxe. His father would always pit the brothers against eachother in battles and due to the heavy weapons his father prided himself and his family on using Andronar would always lose. When training on his own Andronar found he fought exquisitely with a rapier and a dagger in a Main Gauche style. His father found him practicing with these "weak weapons" and reputedly punished his son and threatened to (and almost did) kill him on many occassions. It didnt help that Andronar wanted to become a corsair as his entire family were bred to be warriors making his life even more of a misery than the average Druchii. Andronar however was far smarter than his brothers and his foolish father and put in motion a plan. Another Druchii household known as the "Venomblades" and the son "Arlon Venomblade" was a good friend to Andronar and shared his common interests and goals. The father of this family was "Kratos Venomblade" and it was to him that Andronar proposed an idea. It just so happens that Kratos and Drumius were bitter enemies and the fact that he had now found an ally in a man that deeply despised his father and family almost as much as he did made him eager to concoct a plan to better his own future. After talking with Andronar Kratos found the boy to be very intelligent and ambitious especially as Andronar struck him a deal. If Andronar assasinated his father and brothers in their sleep Kratos would send members of his house to do the same to the rest of the Blackaxe household. After this Andronar would take a beating from one of Kratos sons to make him look like he had been in a battle and then run to alert the guards. The frame would be set up perfectly to look like another of Kratos enemies killed Andronars family and then have them hung drawn and quatared by the law, thus eliminating two possible threats in one night. Andronar's reward of course would be that Kratos would agree to adopt him, the fact that he was a good student and good friends with his son would be the only legal reason he would need to induct the boy into his family and the fact that the boy was obviously smarter than the average Druchii. Kratos eagerly agreed to Andronars plan and so Andronar set out that night to carry it out, he was successful, however his father awoke as he was administering the poison, he was dead anyway but due to the poison taking time to work Drumius used his last few minutes of life to beat Andronar half to death, thus saving the Venomblade males a job. Despite Andronar's nasty injuries the plan succeeded and he became an official member of Kratos Venomblades family and his wounds healed in time. Since these days Andronar and his "brothers" have gone seperate ways, each choosing a different profression under their superior Drucchi government. Andronar became a trainee corsair, he is still very young and not a greatly developed fighter and so is still training underneath the elder and more powerful Dark Elves. However he is still a most useful member of the corsairs as he is extremely talented when it comes to manipulation and "interrogation" thus he is a master at getting the desired information from slaves and enemy prisoners. His traits of intelligence, deceipt and trade make him a talented tactician and his ideas are always taken into account by his superiors and his speed and agility make him a talented swordsman more skilled than strong. Altogether though he is still a trainee and he respects those above him and learns from them, that is until they have taught him all they can, then just as those below him they suddenly become....expendable.

Stats
Weapon Skill: 6
Strength: 2
Toughness: 2
Dexterity: 5
Intelligence: 6

Skills: Two-Weapon Fighting, Poisoned Weapons, Parry, Riposte.

Equipment: Rapier, Main Gauche (parrying dagger).

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Player: Ashnari Doomsong

Character Name: Thorelean Retheriack – level 2

Character Height and Weight: Thorelean is a short fellow, for an elf. He is also quite large and stocky; his proportions are almost those of an average height, quite broad-shouldered human.

Character Age: 273

Other Descriptions: As a short, stocky elf, Thorelean is quite clumsy and awkward-looking. His steel-gray eye, however, reveals a keen intelligence and a constant vigilance for enemies at every angle. He has a long, disfiguring scar running down the side of his face, over an empty eye socket that opens cavernously into his skull. His face also has several other scars, and no doubt the rest of his body does, too. Another notable scar is, however, a slash running straight across his throat, causing his voice to be a rasping rattle. But it is still a strong voice, surprisingly capable of reaching over great distances and over the din of potential battle. A third remarkable scar on his face just misses his remaining eye, going down to draw his mouth down into a permanent downward curve. And in the middle of it all, a very prominent beak of a nose slashes down, unscarred and untouched. He limps heavily on his right leg whenever he walks, another obvious war wound. His body is still heavily muscled, though, and all of his wounds give him a grizzled look, belying his actual age. Thorelean's raven-black hair is held back in a leather band and even cut to shoulder-length so as not to have it distract him while he is fighting.
There is one final disfigurement that occurs to most people; He is, in fact, missing his left hand entirely. His right hand is not very quick, but it is, marvelously untouched by all the years of fighting he has done, steady as a rock, along with the rest of him.

Character Class: Warrior

Character Background: Thorelean Retheriack. I knew him, alright. Cunning as an old fox, he was. Did I mention he used to be a sergeant in the Naggorond city guard? Pretty good one, too. I hear he actually passed up an offer for promotion at one time, if you can believe it. What? Why I said 'used to be'? Well, mostly because he had the bad luck to be on duty when that accursed bastard, Eltharion or whatever his name was, came in and raided the city. He only just made it to the gates on his little inspection when he found the sentries killed. He tried to rally some resistance, but when as soon as he'd gotten his little group of people together, the Asur scum came down on him. When they left him for dead, I hear that he was found and someone decided he was valuable enough to spend resources on to save. So, there you are. There are a lot of rumors about him going on in the guard itself, though. Why don't you check in there?

What? Oh. Him. No ambition in that one, and no fun in him either. He had it coming when he banned torturing the slaves as leisure activities. Called it 'wasteful' and assigned flogging for punishment. Really harsh fellow, but I've got to hand it to him: He could beat a cold one for endurance and an assassin for efficiency. Still, he always behaved like we were his juniors by several hundred years. I mean, he's not half old himself! Where he's from? I dunno. He came in one day, from the watchtowers according to him, and demanded to talk with the captain-in-charge, and he joined the city guard just like that. He still had two hands then, and he didn't limp, so he was a much better fighter then than now, so I suppose that helped. When he was made sergeant, his arrogance swooled up to extremes. You seen that scar he's got right by his eye? His second-in-command in the field gave him that. Thought if he and a couple of his friends caught Thorelean off-guard they could get his other eye and have some fun with him, you know? Well, that didn't happen and it ended up with him having some fun with them instead. He put them in chains and told the lads that these were people we had his permission to torture to death: Impossible to sneak up on the bloody bastard.
No, I don't know where he lost his eye or how, perhaps they know up north? Or, I know that he had a girl somewhere near the Temple. I suppose you could ask her?

Who, did you say? Thorelean? Oh. Isn't he still lamenting in some torture chamber or other? He is? Good. He failed Khaine. He never particiularily revered him, anyway. Claimed that religious fervor led to overconfidence on the battlefield, and that overconfidence was one of those things Khaine despised. It makes sense, in a strange way, but Thorelean was unnerving. Very unnerving. He'd stare at you, and he'd still be trying to look everywhere at once? Know the type? I knew him from before he got that ghastly slash to his mouth, you know, and when he had possession of all his limbs. He got it before he left for the watchtowers. Proud? Not particiularily. Rather arrogant of his own fighting abilities. It took him an eye to get off that throne, but get off it he did. Did you know he served as a corsair at one time, raiding into Brettonia? Yes, he brought me one of my best slaves. They really do respond better to mild treatment than torture, these slaves. Just don't let them think you're lenient with failures, and their devotion will almost be adorable. But enough, you came about Thorelean. Yes. He served in the watchtowers for about a decade when he happened to kill a superior officer who was attempting to eliminate him. Stupid of him, really: Thorelean never wanted to get above where he is now, so he'd have nothing to fear from that angle unless Thorelean decided he was incompetent. Why is beyond me, but he seemed content with his lot in life, and he did pay some service to Khaine before battles. Apparently, he didn't see the point in praying to Him except for battles. Blasphemy? Well, slightly. That's why I even lived with him for a while, to convince him that Khaine really was the best way. What? Oh, yes. He was only a sergeant, but he is a clever elf and knows a lot about warfare. He even acted as an impromptou field commander of a small task force at one time, I think. You'll have to get the details from him. I also recall he said he got conned and traded his eye for a limp. Kind of humour he has. I don't remember if he ever told me about his throat, though. That's all I know. You might want to check with the watchtower he was stationed at, or perhaps with the black ark... Khaine's Dagger , I think it's called.

Welcome aboard Khaine's Dagger, my lord. We are just leaving day after tomorrow, so I regret not being able to give... what? Thorelean? Why do you want to know about him? Yes, I served with him when he got that limp of his. Well, we were raiding the coast of Brettonia, his second battle. He's one of those people you can trust at your back, you know? He never kills anyone because they're rivals. He sees it as a challenge to him, to ward off the other's treachery and to get the promotion or decoation or whatever through sheer skill. Anyway, we were raiding off into brettonia and he comes up with that great big shield of his. He never was a quick fellow, and one of those knights errants, the unhelmeted young fools? come in and try to ride him down. Now, another exceptional thing about him is that Thorelean has a strange intuition for danger. So he gets the great spiked shield between himself and the knight. Unfortunately for him, the knight's lance breaks off on the shield and misses his groins by an inch, digging into his leg. The warhorse is killed by the impact with the shield, though, and it collapses on top of him, further crushing his leg. Now, Thorelean was, and most likely is, as hard as nails. He keeps his head enough to knock the young knight out cold with the pommel of his sword. He didn't shout in pain once, that's how though he is. Since that day, he captured some thirty slaves on that trip, and the knight was one of the ones he kept. I hear he gave them away to his girl, you... oh, so sorry. Didn't know you'd already visited her. Anyway, I don't know exactly where he was born, but he did mention something about damn savages, so possibly up north. He served up in the watchtowers for about a decade, you know. That's the only other place I can imagine you can find out more about his past...

What do you want? We don't keep records on every soul which comes up here to die, you know... Thorelean Retheriack? I fought with him in one battle. Want to hear the tale? Well, here goes. He's been fighting up here for about nine years, a little more, I think. Anyway, a large force of khornate demons came swooping in at us, led by one of those really big bloodthirsters, you know? Right. So we get into defensive positions. Thorelean had reached the point where he commanded his own unit of crossbow-phalanx then, and he was guarding the entrance to the tower. A suicide mission, I know. Battle is joined and they actually survive long enough that the rest of us thought they were going to make it through after all when the bloodthirster itself pops up. And just like that, half the unit froze in panic, being slaughtered by the bloodletters. Thorelean suddenly finds himself at the front, holding his shield as firmly as he can. And then a stray blow from the greater demon stripped away half his face, including his eye and sending him knocked out, taken for dead by everyone. Including his men, who saved his life by running as fast as they could up the stairs and goading the demons into pursuing and slaughtering them all. We defeated the khornate fiends and he was found to be alive. I do respect the man, though. As far as I know, he has not left a single man behind on his missions outside unless they already were dead. His troops loved him for it, or those without prospects for promotion did. I understand he has a lot of people looking for him, but I do not understand what they think about him. My guess would be that they're after killing him, but I'll tell you what I tell them: He's no threat to anyone with power. Where he was born? I do not know. You'll have to ask him.

What's this? The sun? Fresh air? Why do I sense you have a motive with this visit? Or has someone decided to finish me at last? Not to kill me, are you. Well, that is a relief, I suppose. Where I'm from? You'll not get to know that, friend. Closely guarded secret. I know I stink, I've been down here without washing the last year or so! What did you expect? Me to be freshly bathed with recently tailored clothes waiting to discuss poetry over a cup of fine wine with captured concubines waving us with fans and attending to our every desires? Right, get to the point. Much as I enjoy having someone to talk to, I would very much prefer to know what you're here for. You'll get me out of here, will you? And I suppose I'm going to give you my services in return for that? Well. Get me out of here and get my gear back and I'm yours. Not literally, of course. You understand what I mean. Now, get me the hell out of here before the guards decide they want a little 'fun', will you?

CHARACTER STATS:

Weapon Skill (WS): 4
Strength (S): 4
Toughness (T): 6
Dexterity (D): 1
Intelligence (I): 6

SKILLS:
Awareness, disguise.

GEAR:
Long, serrated black metal sword, spiked tower shield(strapped to left arm, can be transferred to be worn on his back. Has 'built-in' sheath for a bastard sword which is missing. There is about one spike per twenty centimetres up and down by the square. The shield is 160 centimetres tall and 60 wide), and a steel 'shroud' around the stump of his left hand. His old armour was left uncared for for too long, and rusted into nothing. He wears a long, gray coat, practical in its wear and nice and warm. His belt is also gray, along with his breeches. In short, he is wearing a millitary uniform except for the armour and any house insignas, and gray rather than black so as not to give anyone the impression he's still a soldier. He has a crutch he leans to in order to make his enemies that have observed him underestimate him. The only fancy thing on him is a silver ring of foreign make, with the signet of a cold grey steel sword and an eagle's talon in black on a surface of blue, possibly a small sheen of sapphire. He keeps five metres of thick, strong rope in his knapsack.

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Player: Ilokir

Character name: Ilokir Lúinwë – level 2

Character height and weight: 1m80, 50 kg

Character age: 154 years old.

Other descriptions: Ilokir is a slender elf with blonde hair. He is quite young to elven standards. He is dressed in traditional Druchii militia outfit: Dark blue robes, a simple breastplate and equally modest leather vambraces. On his back, he carries a scarred shield with the rune of Naggaroth and beneath it a very old ornate longsword, high elf fashion.

Class: Warrior.
ws: 6
dex: 4
str: 4
T: 3
Int: 4

skills: awareness, defensive fighting.

Background:

Ilokir is an Khainite Asur, who's village was purged because of them being Kainites. This proved to be the switch that would decide Ilokir's fate forever. He decided to run when the situation proved hopeless. He eventually managed to take the sword of the family with him. Apart from that, he lost everything, but he regained a prize in return: hatred. The so called 'pure' elves, who always protected their citizens against the 'evil' Druchii, had distroyed his life. Ilokir wandered through what once was his homeland, but he felt empty inside..
Fate sometimes makes strange twists. When he was tormented by his own thoughts, news reached him that Malekith launched a new invasion against Ulthuan. He did not Curse Malekith, as he had always done before, but he felt a weird feeling of understanding. Could it be that Malekith was actually fighting for his homeland against his treacherous kind? The same kind that forsook himself? The same kind that forsook Khaine? His choice was made at that particular moment. He would fight for Malekith. Together, they would cleance Ulthuan. Revenge would be his.
It was not that difficult for Ilokir to infiltrate in the Army of Nargaroth. When they prayed to Khaine, his kin always used to speak Drukh-Eltharin. From casualties from the early skirmishes he stole the required clothing and armour. He looked like a Druchii, he spoke like a Druchii and from what he heard, he wouldn't be the only blonde elf in the Witch King's army.

Ilokir orientated himself to the sound of battle. The Druchii were fighting in front of the Great Phoenix Gate. First, Ilokir was hesitant to enter the battle, but after seeing the wall of High Elfs withstand a Druchii charge, hatred overtook him and he entered the fray. On that day, Ilokir made his first casualty, ever. It wouldn't be his last.

A month had passed and things weren't go well for the Army. The efforts to break the gate had proven futile and the commander of their section had given order to throrougly pillage the land and head for the black arc. This was the second time Ilokir had to made a heavy choice: He choose to leave for Nargaroth, to serve his new king with all his hatred, but he vowed to ever return victorious.

Nargaroth proved to be very sinistre, very menacing: Ideal to his state of mind. Ilokir realised he had nowhere to go. He lived a weak of the loot he took that last week of the invasion. Thereafter his situation became even more hopeless. Finally, he decided to volunteer as a mercenary... He thought he would make it. His skills with the blade weren't that bad, moreover, he had tasted battle yet. This adventure would only make him stronger.. When he enlisted, he decided to forget his surname for ever. He was a Druchii now, he called himself Ilokir Asur Bane.

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Name: Damian Drie
Height: 5' 10"
Weight: 153 lb
Age: 139

Appearance: Has short buzzed grey hair, and hazel eyes. With a piercing in his upper and lower right ear, linked together with a small dangling chain. His face is held in a ever present scoul, often with a look of disdain at his fellow Druchii. He has a slightly stout build and a well muscled body. He wears a tight hight collared blue tunic under his leather armour, and black pants. He carries his sword at his side and his shield across his back within easy reach. His arms are adorned with light decorative bracers with a blue hue to the metal. On his left hand he has a bracelet and a matching ring on his middle finger.

Class: Warrior

Background: Damian came from the city of Karond Kar. He and his family grew up near the outskirts of the great city. Growing up so near to the Sea of Malice Damian often saw the Corsairs coming back from their many raids. He often wonderd what it would be like to sail on the open sea, to go and pillage the lesser races of the world. For many years these thoughts plagued him untill finaly on the day of his hundreth winter he went to speak to the Captain of one of the Corsair ships. Upon requesting joining the ship the Captain turned him away, saying he would not babysit someone so green to the sword. Damian angered at this refusal swore revenge against the captain as he left back for his house. Being of enough mind to say this where none could hear him. Befor leaving the city, he happend upon a former aquantence of his younger days. Damian hardly recognised the man who walked passed him in warriors garb. After taking a second look at the elf Damian called to him, asking him for a few words. The warrior slowly turned to look incrediously at him, wondering what he had called him for. Damian introduced himself, and stood patiently as the warrior slowly began to remember him. Once Damian was sure his old friend remembered who he was he asked him how he had come upon his current employment. When his friend started to ask him why, Damian quickly thought up a lie and told him that he was tired of mearly sitting around watching the waves roll by. His friend then told him that he had simply joined the City Army as a warrior. Damian thanked him for his time and hurried off to the Army station in the city. After signing up and recieving his gear, he left the city and went home. Swearing to himself that he would train and he would have his revenge on the Captain...all in good time he told himself, all in good time.

Weapon skill:3
Strength:3
Toughness:4
Dexterity:3
Intelligence:5
Equipment:Long sword, Shield, Light armor