Mannix Vaelos ~ Aellenrhim ~ Hunter/Tracker/Forager

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[Mannix]

Mannix Vaelos

Name  Mannix Vaelos

Gender  Male

Age  Two Hundred and Twenty-Nine

Age By Appearance  Twenty-Five

Age By Knowledge And Training  Thirty

Approximate Maximum Lifespan  Eight Hundred

Race  Elf

Tribe  Aellenrhim

Occupation  Hunter/Tracker/Forager

Title  Ranger of Shadow

Height  Two peds

Weight  Fifteen hebs

Hair Colour  Black

Eye Colour  Brown almost black

Description

When you cast your eyes on Mannix, the first things seen are his eyes. They enchant, they speak, they are like shadows in the mist. It is these eyes that have kept him apart from others as a child. They were the eyes of an adult; they did not belong on a child. They should have been full of glee, but were full of mystery. The rest of his face shares this characteristic, mysteriousness. His nose runs elegantly down his face. His jaw line is smooth and sharp. His mouth is small, rarely opened. He has a sort of feminine beauty, an elegance. His hair flows gracefully from his head, often held back in a warrior’s ponytail. 

The rest of his body has the same feminine appearance. His sleek body fits perfectly with his face. Underneath his sun-browned skin is a lightly muscled frame. Standing at two peds he is a little tall for his tribe. He has a long torso, accompanied with long, slender limbs. He looks very youthful, and would seem like a 25-year-old human were it not for his obvious alien beauty. His voice accompanies his physique perfectly; it is light, airy. However, it does have a masculine tone and depth. This voice is excellent at concealing the truth, having years of practice. When it does tell the truth it’s sound is suddenly changed. It often reminds one of the silence of a forest, not completely silent, but better for it.

Mannix wears clothes suited to his lifestyle. He wears a tight, herne green linen shirt, with sleeves right on his wrists. Over this he wears an eophran brown leather jerkin, clasped with three dull buttons, hugging his figure tightly. On his legs he wears a pair of tight, eophran brown, leather breaches, the legs cut off bellow the knee. These are tucked into his knee-high, adlemirene leather boots. Over all of this he wears a nor’sidian cloak, clasped at the throat with a metal teardrop entwined in vines. Around his waist is a plain brown leather belt, holding his knife sheath, and usually his knife. On his back is a quiver full of arrows and his bow.

Personality

Mannix shows little emotion, he is calm, quiet and keeps to himself. Though he is not outwardly nasty to anyone, neither is he nice. He prefers to remain in the shadows, observing not acting. The way he acts and dresses often incurs the judgement of him being a shifty character. The one thing he has never spoken about, except to Fenyx, is his past. Because of this exclusion, he suffers grave harm. He has never been able to get rid of his immense emotional turmoil. As it wells up, he becomes more and more unstable, unsettled. 

Mannix’s only friend is Fenyx, his ferret. He is the only one he will talk to, and though he never gets a reply, he knows Fenyx listens. Without Fenyx Mannix surely would have gone mad by now from sheer grief. Because of this relationship Fenyx never leaves Mannix, not for hunting, not for sleeping, not for eating. Mannix prefers to catch Fenyx his dinner, and so he has lost some of his natural hunting talent.

Strengths

Bow and Arrow Proficiency ~ After living in Thaelon Forest for extensive years, and mainly living on what he hunts, Mannix has acquired much skill with the use of a bow. This helps him hunt for food and fend off attacks. He has a keen eye, and his arrows usually find their target. In addition to this skill in archery, Mannix is also a novice fletcher. This allows him to restock his quiver without great expense. However, these arrows are often of a lesser quality that one of a professional fletcher.

Hunting, Tracking and Foraging Skills ~ For Mannix to survive he has often had to hunt for his food. His tracking skills help find pray, whereas his hunting skills actually help him kill it. They are both needed to hunt as proficiently as he does. When his hunting fails him he must then resort to foraging. With his keen eye his is able to find enough food to please him. These three skills help him stay alive, and are necessary for his choice of lifestyle.

Mysteriousness ~ From his appearance and manner, Mannix has gained himself a mysterious 'aura'. People often keep away from him, leaving him to think. This suits him just fine. Since living in Thaelon Forest he has always been looked at with a circumspect eye. It is often wondered if he isn’t just one of the many mysteries surrounding the forest.

Weaknesses

Emotional Turmoil ~ Ever since that dreadful day when Mannix lost his mother, he has struggled with his emotions. He is plagued by horrific visions of his past, which leave him disoriented and tired upon waking from them. He desperately tries to avoid sleeping at all costs to keep from seeing these horrible things. However, constant lack of sleep has wracked his body and mind, leaving him horribly exhausted a lot of the time.

Mysteriousness ~ This mysteriousness, though a strength, is also a weakness. He finds it hard to befriend anyone. He thinks he doesn’t need any, yet secretly he yearns for one, someone to pour his soul out to, someone who will speak back. It is because of this that he has never been able to get over his past mistakes. He battles this alone, with the help of this mysteriousness, but he also fails alone.

Fear ~ Mannix has a fear of wide, open spaces. Living in forests for all his life he has grown accustomed to closed spaces to the point that he is afraid to be in the open. To add to this fear his mothers death was caused in the open. This fear causes him great grief. He stays away from open spaces as much as possible, and when forced to, will escape them as quickly as possible.

History

Place of Birth  Bolder Forest

Day of Birth  18th of Chúh'querín (Month of the Falling Leaf), the Day of Tears.

The thin mist crept along the ground.  A soft wind stirred the leaves.  The sky was clear and dark, the air cold.  The silvery mist glistened under the moonlight, filling the forest with an iridescent glow.  And through all this strode a single figure, cloaked in darkness.

Mannix crept slowly through the undergrowth.  His eyes were constantly scanning.  In his hand he held a long bow, worn for use.  His target was a herd if deer.  Their tracks were strewn through the foliage.  The sun was down, and so they would already have bedded down, easy targets.  Ahead he saw a clearing.  He slowed down, hardly moving.  In one practiced stroke he retrieved an arrow and had knocked it.  He came to the edge of the glade and look out.  The silhouettes of a herd of deer could be easily seen in the shimmering mist.  He brought his bow up and stared down the arrow.  The bow scanned the herd slowly, searching for a target.  Apart from the group lay a single deer.  He lined up for the shot and pulled the string back, but the arrow never flew.  He couldn’t bring himself to kill one so like him.  Mannix backed away, retreating from his disgrace.  How could he, a hunter, not hunt?  He lay down, weary from the failed hunt, and slept.

He ran through the leaves, leaping with delight.  It was so good to be young, to be free.  He ran for the joy of running.  The cold seeped into his feet, as the mud clung to them.  Only when he ran was he free, and so he ran through the forest all he could.  He stayed in the forest to dodge people and their stares.  He hated being stared at, as if he was some sort of freak.  Maybe he was, maybe that was why nobody would talk to him, be nice to him.

Up ahead the village came into view.  He ran for it.  Breaking through the trees he sprung into the middle of the peaceful street.  Well it wasn’t anymore.  Mannix turned and ran down the street stirring up dust and noise.  He came to the end of the street and turned.  His house was now in view.  It had been ‘empty’ ever since his father left.  Mannix had few memories of his father, him dying when Mannix was so young.  He had asked his mother about his death a few times, but she would only talk about his life.   Next to the house sat his mother’s shop.  It was a jeweller, creator of beauty.  His mother made the most wonderful gems.  They shone in the sun, and shimmered in the moon.  The door opened and out stepped his mother.  Around her neck was her most prized, most beautiful piece, the necklace of a crystal teardrop.  Its surface was flawless, perfectly curved.  Mannix ran toward her, but the distance never lessened.  Suddenly a mist swirled around him, and he was lifted from his feet.  He became disorientated and closed his eyes.

He opened his eyes. The world was tall.  He walked briskly under the moonlight.  In his hand he felt warmth.  He looked up and saw her, his mother.  Around her neck lay a crystal necklace, swinging gently.  Mannix was scared, fearful of the open.  He loved the forest, and hated to leave it, but his mother led him.  It was her that stopped him from fleeing.  He clung to her arm, awaiting their destination.

The air suddenly froze, the wind died.  Mannix trembled as his mother swung him under her cloak.  He hid there shaking from both cold and fear.  A wolf howled.  His mother drew her long, slender knife.  All at once she flung Mannix from herself at brought up that knife.  Mannix stared in terror as a wolf lunged for his mother.  It grabbed her left arm in its jaws.  She screamed in pain, and brought her knife down into the wolf.  It yelped and released her arm.  It fell to the ground and lay there with the knife still in it.  His mother staggered from the body, clutching her arm.

They stumbled through the forest, his mothers breathing ragged.  He could not go on any more.  He lay his mother down.  “I’m sorry Mannix,” came a whisper, barely audible.
“Don’t be sorry," Mannix struggled through tears.
“Before I go take this,” and she lifted her necklace over her head and put it in his hand.  “Keep it safe, goodbye.”  Mannix clutched his hand around the necklace, knelt down and wept.

Mannix leapt up with a knife in his hand.  All around him was darkness and silence.  He sat back down, rocking back and forth, cradling his head in his hands.  He heard a scuttling in the dark and looked up.  In front of him sat Fenyx, staring straight into his eyes.  He reached down to pat him.  He sat there for hours simply patting Fenyx, and thinking.  Finally he lay back down to sleep.
 
The sunlight filtered through the trees, casting a delicate light on the forest.  Mannix leisurely strode through this light.  He was at peace, well as peaceful as he ever is.  There is always a deep hidden despair, waiting to seize control.  He lifted a branch to pass it.  As he stepped, a yelp rang through the air.  He looked down and saw trembling ferret.  He looked down with pity, seeing the ferret nurse its injured paw.  He bent down to pick him up.  It struggle for a while, but was too fearful to bite.  With the ferret in his arms he returned from where he came.

Once in the glade Mannix put down the ferret to let it tend its wounds.  He sat there watching it, learning more from this than anything else in his entire life.  Once the ferret was done it looked up at Mannix, returning his gaze.  Mannix knew then that this was special. He picked it up and placed it on his shoulders.  Off he went, out of the glade, back into the forest.

Mannix awoke, the sun was high. He looked down at Fenyx sleeping beside him.  “At least I have you,” he whispered.

The next day Mannix rose and packed his belongings.  He was ravenous.  Picking up his belongings, and with his bow in his hand, Mannix left the campsite.  He walked without knowing where.  Hunting was harder in the day, but hunt he must.  The birds sung long and sweet.  His targets.  He hated to kill birds, animals of beauty, of innocence.  On the ground were several coa’coas.  He grabbed three arrows and knocked one.  He loosed the arrow, it flew straight and true.  All but one bird flew off.  He walked over to the remaining coa’coa and picked it up and left.

With his hunger satiate, he realized his tremendous exhaustion.  He walked to a nearby river and drank.  Surrounded by Mahood-Euwen trees, he lay down without bedding and closed his eyes.

A violent wind beat down upon him.  He strode through the mud and rain, determined to reach his goal.  His eyes were constantly scanning the open plain.  He felt vulnerable, open to attack.  Up ahead he could just see a faint outline of trees on the horizon.  Thaelon Forest was his only safe-haven left known to him.  The shadow consumed him.

The shadow suddenly cleared.  He was surrounded by trees, Mahood-Euwen trees. He was in Thaelon Forest.  It was dark, but it was always dark in Thaelon.  He surveyed his surrounding.  This place suited him; it was dark and mysterious, like him.  The moss was soft beneath his feet.  He was here for one reason, salvation.  He hoped for truth in the rumours, that the forest purifies the soul.  He yearned for escape from his eternal anguish.  It is here that he will stay, him and Fenyx.  Again the shadow consumed him.

His legs ached.  He had been walking for so long.  The further he travelled through the trees, the darker it became.  There were no longer and shadows, there was no light to contrast them.  Mannix could not even see, he strode through the forest with his eyes closed.  He no longer knew where he was, his mind thought of one thing, cleansing.  Cleansing of mind and soul, cleansing of pain.  He opened his eyes, unsure why, and saw a faint light ahead.  It gave him hope.  In the light perched a beautiful black bird upon the silver branch of a silkel tree.  It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.  It was the end of his journey.  He moved his wearied legs as fast as they could go.  The bird turned its gaze onto him.  He froze.  In it’s eyes were knowledge, pure knowledge.  The light went out.


When he opened his eyes the light was still there, but the bird was not.  He was not even sure if the bird was real, but he had a feeling that it was.  He got up and traced his tracks back to the edge of the forest.

He woke calmly, for once.  He was covered in a cool sweat.  The mist clung to him, chilling him to the bone.  Next to him Fenyx lay gazing at him.  He sat up, picked up Fenyx and held him in his arms while he spoke.  He spoke of all his problems old and new, and Fenyx listened to all.  After Mannix was done he rose, with Fenyx on his shoulder, and left the small clearing.

Weapons

Mannix carries with him two weapons, a worn longbow and a small dagger. On his back hangs a leather quiver full of arrows, all rather dissimilar. These arrows are mostly hand crafted by Mannix himself, and while they are adequate missiles, they do not fly as well as an arrow made by a professional fletcher. The fletching of these arrows are also differentiating, being of many coloured feathers from many different birds.

Hanging on this quiver is an aged longbow made from Arvins cedar wood, giving it a slightly reddish-brown hue. Mannix often keeps it strung for the day, only unstringing it before sleeping and when going into settlements.

Belongings

~ A medallion of a crystal teardrop
~ A herbal tonic made from 'Dreamers Breath' for standard aliments
~ A flask of water
~ A pouch containing a few coins
~ A bedroll
~ A cooking pot
~ A tinderbox

Familiars

Name  Fenyx

Gender  Male

Age  Unknown

Species  Ferret

Breed  Common (Bandit)

Height  1 palmspan

Length  3 palmspans

Weight  1 Od and 7 Mut

Fur Colours  Black, brown and white

Eye Colour  Black

Description

Fenyx hides his face behind a mask of black fur, the obvious source of his colouring’s name; bandit. The fur of the mask is soft and short, though above his eyes it grows longer and wiry, giving him the appearance of an elderly man. Almost completely hidden in the mask are two small, black eyes. The rest of his face not covered by his mask constrasts greatly, being white. The mask surrounds his eyes and stretches down his face, only barely joining by his nose. From atop his head protrude two small ears. The front of these are sparsely covered with white hair, with the hair lessening deeper into the ear, revealing more pink flesh. The other side of these ears are covered in an array of browns. These ears are exceptionally soft, and Mannix often spends ages simply sitting there stroking them.

On the end of his arrow-shaped head, sit a small, pink nose. It is often warm and dry, except when runny, which the ferret is rather prone to in the winter months. Below this nose are to barely visible, pink lips. Fur from his face usually covers them, but at eye level they are much more noticeable. In Fenyx’s mouth he possess an impressive collection of teeth, all extremely sharp. In particular, two sharp fangs may sometimes peeks though his lips. When Fenyx hisses these fangs are much more noticeable, and Fenyx often waves his head from side to side a bit when hissing, as if showing off his fangs.

The rest of Fenyx’s long body is covered in fur with much the same colour as his ears, though on his body it grows much longer. Fenyx has never been one for grooming himself, and so he always looks a bit scruffy. His fur seems to be darkest atop his back and then gets paler onto his sides to again pale more suddenly to an off- white on his belly. From his lengthy torso stem four dark, short legs. On his left front leg he has a white kneecap and on his feet he wear four white, fur shoes. On these feet are four little toes, with each having a rather sharp claw. Fenyx uses these mainly for digging, but than can also cause quite a bit of pain for Mannix, whether intentional or not. On the bottom of his white feet are four pink pads, like soles of a shoe.

Further to the back of Fenyx’s body extends a long, furry tail. The fur on his tail is very near black, but like much of his fur, his a mixture of different shades. Fenyx usually keeps his tail straight, but when he sleeps he curls it near its tip. All of the colours on this ferret, ranging from the dark blacks and browns to the pale pinks and white, make him quite a striking animal. His scruffy looks also complements his bandit colouring perfectly.

Personality/Temperament

Not only does Fenyx look like a bandit, but he often acts like a mischievous little bandit as well. He is immensely curious, and will do a lot to sate this curiosity. An odd smell, a peculiar sound or an unfamiliar sight will instant ignite his inquisitiveness, mostly likely causing him to scurry of to investigate. This can often lead him, and Mannix, into trouble, especially when he follows the scent of a kitchen. But no matter how much trouble he gets into, Mannix can never stay mad at such an adorable face.

Fenyx is also very playful, that is when not napping. He loves nothing more than to fool around with anything he can get his paws on. A short piece of rope is a favourite toy, as he loves leaping into the air trying to catch it.

But all this energetic behaviour must use a lot of energy, as Fenyx is a very good sleeper. There is probably nothing he likes better than a good nap, except made a good meal. He sleeps much of the day away, thought this often suits Mannix, allowing him to rest or interact with others more easily. He is rather thankful for Fenyx’s extensive sleeping, for he would surely not be able to keep up with him if he didn’t sleep so much.

Food is definitely the way to Fenyx’s heart. There is very little he won’t eat and very little time when he isn’t hungry. The little ferret is rather protective of his food, and would nip at anyone who comes to closer while he eats. This does however exclude Mannix, as Fenyx often likes to eat near the elf, or even when on his shoulders. But, not even Mannix would dare take the food from him, lest he want a bite.

When food isn’t involved, Fenyx is rather friendly to most people. With most people he will ignore them after a bit of investigation, preferring to nap or beg for pets from Mannix. But, if the stranger were to have an odd scent, then he might be more bothered with them. He sometimes gets too playful with these new people, trying to play with them and sometimes nipping at them. But the little bites are only playful. When particularly tired, Fenyx will happily lie with anyone, as long as they are willing to stroke him.

[Simonne Miller]

Character Description
Name Mannix Vaelos

Gender Male

Age 229

Race Elf

Tribe Aellenrhim

Occupation Hunter/Tracker/Forager

Title Ranger of Shadow

Appearance
Height Two peds.

Weight One pygge. Uhm... You realise that you're *seriously* underweight with these measurements, don't you? I calculated the Body Mass Index of your character and it's 12.5, while less than 18 is underweight. I'd make him a bit heavier than that

Hair Colour Black

Eye Colour Brown almost black

Physical Appearance
When you cast your eyes on Mannix the first thing seen are his eyes.  They enchant, they speak, they are like shadows in the mist.  People are often caught in those eyes, his gaze.  They are fixated there unable to move, exploring their deep beauty. You can't dictate what other people feel or do when they see your character. Remember that you will be meeting player characters, and the players might not want to do what you just described here. The rest of his face shares this characteristic, mysteriousness.  His nose runs elegantly down his face.  His jaw line is smooth and sharp.  His mouth is small, rarely opened.  He has a sort of feminine beauty, an elegance.  His hair flows gracefully from his head, often held back in a warrior’s ponytail.  To look at him is to see an eerie beauty, deepened by his eyes. why eerie? And again, you can't dictate what others see.

The rest of his body has the same feminine appearance.  His sleek body fits perfectly with his face.  It can be seen that underneath his sun-browned skin is a lightly muscled frame. You're making your sentence unnecessarily complicated. 'It can be seen that' adds nothing to the sentence except length Standing at two peds he is tall for his tribe. No, he's average at two peds. Or maybe just a little taller than average, but not as much as you make it out to be with that sentence. He has a long torso, accompanied with long, slender limbs.  He looks very youthful, and would seem like a 25-year-old human were it not for his obvious alien beauty.  His voice accompanies his physic physique? I'm not sure. perfectly. Perhaps use a colon here instead of a full stop. It is light, airy.  It does differ from his physical appearance though, as it has a masculine tone and depth. Of course his voice is different from his physical appearance. That's why it's a voice and not a part of what he looks like I'd just say 'However, it does have a masculine tone and depth.' This voice is excellent at concealing the truth, having years of practice.  When it does tell the truth it’s sound is suddenly changed.  It reminds of the silence of a forest, not complete, but better for it. I don't understand this last sentence.

Clothing
Mannix wears clothes suited to his lifestyle.  He wears a tight, herne green linen shirt, with sleeves right on his wrists.  Over this he wears an eophran brown leather jerkin, clasped with three dull buttons, hugging his figure tightly.  On his legs he wears a pair of tight, eophran brown, leather breaches, the legs cut off bellow the knee.  These are tucked into his knee-high, adlemirene leather boots.  Over all of this he wears a nor’sidian cloak, clasped at the throat with a metal teardrop entwined in vines.  Around his waist is a plain brown leather belt, holding his knife sheath, and usually his knife.  On his back is a quiver full of arrows and his bow.

Personality
Mannix shows little emotion, he is calm, quiet and keeps to himself.  Though he is not outwardly nasty to anyone, neither is he nice.  He prefers to remain in the shadows, observing not acting.  The way he acts and dresses often incurs the judgement of him being a shifty character.  This is actually untrue, but of course he never tells them otherwise.  On the odd occasion that he does speak, his words are few.  Underlying these words is an obvious desire to not talk.  You realise that you just made it incredibly difficult for yourself to interact with other players? And that the basis of most stories is interaction? The one thing he has never spoken about, except to Fenix, is his past, his shame.  Because of this exclusion, he suffers grave harm.  He has never been able to get rid of his immense emotional turmoil.  As it wells up, he becomes more and more unstable, unsettled.  People steer further clear of him, always staring. People can't usually read other people's minds... What does he do that they should steer clear of him, or stare?

Mannix’s only friend is Fenix, his ferret.  He is the only one he will talk to, and though he never gets a reply, he knows Fenix listens.  Without Fenix Mannix surely would have gone mad by now through sheer guilt.  Because of this relationship Fenix never leaves Mannix, not for hunt, not fro for sleep, not for eating.  Mannix prefers to catch Fenix his dinner, and so he has lost some of his natural hunting talent.

Strengths and Weaknesses
Strengths

Bow and Arrow Proficiency - After living in Thaelon Forest for extensive years, and mainly living on what he hunts, Mannix has acquired much skill with the use of a bow.  This helps him hunt for food and fend off attacks.  He has a keen eye, and his arrows usually find their target.  In addition to this skill in archery, Mannix is also a novice fletcher.  This allows him to restock his quiver without great expense.  However, these arrows are often of a lesser quality that one of a professional fletcher.
Hunting, Tracking and Foraging Skills -  For Mannix to survive he has often had to hunt for his food.  His tracking skills help find pray, whereas his hunting skills actually help him kill it.  They are both needed to hunt as proficient as he does.  When his hunting fails him he must then resort to foraging.  With his keen eye his is able to find enough food to please him.  These three skills help him stay alive, and are necessary for his choice of lifestyle.
Mysteriousness - From his appearance and manner, Mannix has gained himself a mysterious aura.  People often keep away from him, leaving him to think.  This suits him just fine.  Since living in Thaelon Forest he has always been looked at with a circumspect eye.  It is often wondered if he isn’t just one of the many mysteries surrounding the forest.

Weaknesses

Emotional Turmoil - Ever since that dreadful day when Mannix left his village, fleeing murder, he has struggled with his emotions.  He is plagued by horrific visions of his past, which leave him disoriented and tired upon waking from them. He desperately tries to avoid sleeping at all costs to keep from seeing these horrible things. However, constant lack of sleep has wracked his body and mind, leaving him horribly exhausted a lotof the time.
Mysteriousness - This mysteriousness, though a strength, is also a weakness.  He finds it hard to befriend anyone.  He thinks he doesn’t need any, yet secretly he yearns for one, someone to pour his soul out to, someone who will speak back.  It is because of this that he has never been able to get over his past mistakes.  He battle this alone, with the help of this mysteriousness, but he also fails alone.
I'd like to see one more weakness to balance out your skill with the bow...

History
The thin mist crept along the ground.  A soft wind stirred the leaves.  The sky was clear and dark, the air cold.  The silvery mist glistened under the moonlight, filling the forest with an iridescent glow.  And through all this strode a single figure, cloaked in darkness.

Mannix crept slowly through the undergrowth.  His eyes were constantly scanning.  In his hand he held a long bow, worn for use.  His target was a herd if of deer.  Their tracks were strewn through the foliage.  The sun was down, and so they would already have bedded down, easy targets.  Ahead he saw a clearing.  He slowed down, hardly moving.  In one practiced stroke he retrieved an arrow and had knocked it.  He came to the edge of the glade and look out.  The silhouettes of a herd of deer could be easily seen in the shimmering mist.  He brought his bow up and stared down the arrow.  The bow scanned the herd slowly, searching for a target.  Apart from the group lay a single deer, an outcast. If he was an outcast, he wouldn't have stayed with the herd. Can't he just happen to have chosen a place a little away from the group? He lined up for the shot and pulled the string back, but the arrow never flew.  He couldn’t bring himself to kill one so like him.  Mannix backed away, retreating from his disgrace.  How could he, a hunter, not hunt?  He lay down, weary from the failed hunt, and slept.

He ran through the street, leaping with delight.  It was so good to be young, to be free.  He ran for the joy of running.  The cold seeped into his feet, as the mud clung to them.  Only when he ran was he free, and so he ran through the forest all he could.  He stayed in the forest to dodge people and their stares.  He hated being stared at, as if he was some sort of freak.  Maybe he was, maybe that was why nobody would talk to him, be nice to him.

Up ahead the village came into view. You said earlier that he was already in a street. That implies that he's already in the village, since a forest doesn't have streets, it has paths. He ran for it.  Breaking through the trees he sprung into the middle of the peaceful street.  Well it wasn’t anymore.  Mannix turned and ran down the street stirring up dust and noise.  He came to the end of the street and turned.  His house was now in view.  It was not really his house; it wasn’t where he felt safe.  The forest was his house, his fortress.  He slowed his approach to the house, coming to the door.  He opened it silently creeping to his room.  In another room he heard a shout, his father was in another blind rage, probably due to alcohol.  Next he heard footsteps, coming closer.  He ran to hide, but wasn’t quick enough, his father was here. I'm sorry, but that just doesn't sound like an elf. It sounds human, as does the conversation that follows. I just have a difficult time imagining an elf acting like that.

“What are you doing?” he yelled.
“Nothin’,” Mannix mumbled.
“Speak up!” he yelled, with an accompanying hit.
Mannix cried out with pain, and cowered in the corner.
“Get up!” screamed his father, “what are ya, a coward”.
Still Mannix cowered.
“Get up!”
“No!”
“What, how dare you disobey me!”
“I don’t care!”
And for that received three hefty smacks.
“ Now get up”
Mannix rose, slowly.  He walked slowly to the left.
“Where do ya think your goin’?”
“Away!”
“Ha, leave, where will you go?”
“Anywhere but here.”
“Not if I can help it.”
“You can’t stop me.”  And with that Mannix leapt for his bed reached under the mattress and drew his knife.  “Now stay away!”
“You put that down right now” said his father, and leapt for him.  He landed on Mannix, pushing him to the ground, but was silent.  The only sound that could be heard was the sound of air escaping.  Mannix pushed him off, but he didn’t move.  He looked down; he was covered in blood.  “What have I done?”  He dropped the knife.  “I can’t stay here.”  In a mad panic he ran round his room, collecting his few meager belongings, and then quickly changed clothes.  He opened the door and ran, never looking back.  He ran into the forest, fleeing from his fear.

Mannix leapt up with a knife in his hand.  All around him was darkness and silence.  He sat back down, rocking back and forth, cradling his head in his hands.  He heard a scuttling in the dark and looked up.  In front of him sat Fenix, staring straight into his eyes.  He reached down to pat him.  He sat there for hours simply patting Fenix, and thinking.  Finally he lay back down to sleep.
 
The sunlight filtered through the trees, casting a delicate light on the forest.  Mannix leisurely strode through this light.  He was at peace, well as peaceful as he ever is.  There is always a deep hidden despair, waiting to seize control.  He lifted a branch to pass it.  As he stepped, a yelp rang through the air.  He looked down and saw trembling ferret.  He looked down with pity, seeing the ferret nurse it’s its injured paw.  He bent down to pick him up.  With the ferret in his arms he returned from where he came. And the ferret didn't fight or bite or anything? While it has every reason to believe Mannix wishes to harm him?

Once in the glade Mannix put down the ferret to let it tend it’s its wounds.  He sat there watching it, learning more from this than anything else in his entire life.  Once the ferret was done it looked up at Mannix, returning his gaze.  Mannix knew then that this was special. He picked it up and placed it on his shoulders.  Off he went, out of the glade, back into the forest.

Mannix woke, the sun was high. He looked down at Fenix sleeping beside him.  “At least I have you,” he whispered.

Weapons A An old and tattered longbow,I don't think a longbow can be really tattered. Besides, if he's such a good bowman, he'll have taken care of it; i'd just keep it on 'old'. used for hunting, and a small dagger, kept in his knee-high boots.

Belongings A medallion of a crystal teardrop.  Whenever mentioned Mannix dodges around speaking of it, especially it's origin.  The subject is sensitive to him. You'll have to tell us about it in the history, I'm afraid...
A bag containing:
-A herbal tonic made from 'Dreamers Breath' for standard aliments.
-A flask of water.
-A pouch containing a few coins.
-A bedroll
-A cooking pot
-A tinderbox

Familiars A bandit ferret. It has a black mask surrounding it's black eyes, a white face and ears, brown body, black tail and black shoulders and legs.  This ferret is kept firstly as a pet and secondly as a hunting companion.  It prefers to sit on Mannix's shoulders, and when scared or tired hides in his hood

Ok, those are my comments for now. I'm going to change your icon to the pencil until you've integrated them

[Mannix]

Okay I think I everything is done.    Mistakes are corrected, he has a new weakness and I have added more to the history.  Ready for comments!

Mannix

[Eléyr Fásamár]

Hiya Mannix! I've got some comments in Blue!

Physical Appearance
When you cast your eyes on Mannix(comma) the first thing(s) seen are his eyes.  They enchant, they speak, they are like shadows in the mist.  People are often caught in those eyes, his gaze.  They are usually fixated there(comma) unable to move, exploring their deep beauty.  The rest of his face shares this characteristic, mysteriousness.  His nose runs elegantly down his face.  His jaw line is smooth and sharp.  His mouth is small, rarely opened.  He has a sort of feminine beauty, an elegance.  His hair flows gracefully from his head, often held back in a warrior’s ponytail. 

The rest of his body has the same feminine appearance.  His sleek body fits perfectly with his face.  Underneath his sun-browned skin is a lightly muscled frame.  Standing at two peds he is a little tall for his tribe.  He has a long torso, accompanied with long, slender limbs.  He looks very youthful, and would seem like a 25-year-old human were it not for his obvious alien beauty.  His voice accompanies his physique perfectly; it is light, airy.  However, it does have a masculine tone and depth. This voice is excellent at concealing the truth, having years of practice.  When it does tell the truth it’s sound is suddenly changed.  It (often) reminds (one) of the silence of a forest, not completely silent, but better for it.

Looks good overall Mannix! Your writing style is very nice. Seeya!

[Mannix]

Eléyr,
I have changed that stuff.  Ready for comments!

Mannix

[Azhira Styralias]

Well, Mannix, I'd say you are very close to being approved, in my opinion! 

The one thing I would question is the validity of the "Mysterious" weakness and strength. I am not sure how to properly interpret such a thing. It's almost like this mysterious aura is a physical or magical thing you have. I mean, can everyone you meet determine and acknowledge this aura? Surely not all people see you as mysterious.

And I was disappointed that your history doesn't really say much about your past or experiences, but that is not really a requirement for approval necessarily. But it would have been a nice touch.

Otherwise, I'd say this is a solid CD. 

[Mannix]

Thank you.  I'll try and make the mysteriousness more clear and lengthen the history.  Thanks again.

EDIT:Okay that is done.  Everything is ready for comments!

Mannix

[Azhira Styralias]

Very nice, Mannix!  Looks good to me. I'll recommend a full mod look over for you.

[Mannix]

Thank you so much!!! I have done a spell check.  Woah, it is six pages long.  I had no idea.  Anyway ready for that mod check.

Mannix

[Simonne Miller]

I didn't read through it completely yet, but there were three things that sprung to mind when I scrolled through yesterday.

-In the appearance section, you're still saying exactly how people react when they see his eyes. I'd appreciate it if you didn't do that. You can say they are mysterious and deep, but not that 'People are often caught in those eyes, his gaze.  They are usually fixated there, unable to move, exploring their deep beauty.' For example, if one of my characters meets Mannix, I want to have the option of not being transfixed unable to move... You understand?

-In the personality, you say that he doesn't talk about his past, 'his shame'. However, you changed it now so that his mother died defending him, is that really his shame? You can still have him not talk about it, but I'd choose a different word than 'shame'

-What happened to his father?

[Mannix]

Thanks for the comments:
- I thought that say often or usually meant that I was say what must happen, just what usually does.  Your character doesn't ahve to be caught or fixated.  I have read it in other CDs (approved CDs).  I guess I'll change it if I must.
- Thanks for telling me that, I had just left it in there my mistake.
- I guess I'll write about his father, it's just that Azhira said I don't have to have everything in my history

your history doesn't really say much about your past or experiences, but that is not really a requirement for approval necessarily.

I'll get to work.

EDIT:I have done those changes.  Ready for comments

Mannix

[Twén Aråerwén]

~First Approval~

[Kalína Dalá'isyrás]

And my approval gives you a title!


~Congratulations~

[Simonne Miller]

Brought up as requested. I changed the posticon to the pencil for you

[Mannix]

Thank you for bring this up.  I have finished my edits.

Mannix

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