"My right hand is justice, my left hand mercy. I shall dispense both with equal measure."

Name: Tackel
Sex: Male
Age: 28

Physical Description: A mountain under the guise of a man. His perpetual glower hides a gentle soul, with a distaste for crime that rivals his love of justice.
Clothing: The official uniform of the law in Schittle. This is a dark shirt with loose pants, and boots that Tackel meticulously shines each morning before work. Tackel also has a pair of sunglasses he found for sale in a marketplace somewhere.
Height: 7'2"
Weight: 313 lbs.
Skin Colour: Dark Brown
Hair Colour: Black
Eye Colour: Brown
Sex Appeal: Absolute

Home Town: Unknown. Tackel was born somewhere on the Rock, although his family was killed at a young age and he spent much of his time wandering. Eventually, he found his way to Schittle, where he has been staying for the last three years as a deputy.
Occupation: Deputy of the Peace in Schittle
Culture: Skylander
History/Bio: Tackel's first breaths were taken in a desert tent, on route between towns. His first drinks were not of milk, but of water from a nearby oasis. His first meal, crushed lowflower seeds. His first steps were taken while running from a group of bandits attacking the caravan. His first family was murdered years later, his second lost to a desert storm. Much of this Tackel does not recall. What Tackel does remember, however, is an old, broken man who mumbled words of poetry and wisdom at night to the growing Tackel. These words were of character, of justice, of mercy. Tackel grew to love these ideals, held them close, and one day forged his own code. Wandering the desert as a dispenser of justice, Tackel eventually found his way to Schittle, where the proximity of the Guardians made him want to stay. Enamored by the Guardians' own code, Tackel watched them closely, hoping to learn. And learn, he did.

Equipment and Weapons: Tackel has no weapons but his own fists. These he has owned through countless trainings and battles to be the decisive end to a battle.
Styles, Powers, and Abilities: Tackel uses his sharp instincts more than any real training. He is surprisingly light on his feet for his size, and his punches pack enough power to crack rocks in twain. Tackel is very experienced in all sorts of battles, and his sharp eyes are able to read the terrain and his opponent's moves quickly. Tackel often takes his time in battle, waiting until the right moment to strike; for when he does, the battle will be finished.