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Author Topic: Garret Arroway / Kyranian / Mercenary  (Read 11848 times)
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Garret Arroway
The Wolfling
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Gender: Female
Posts: 1061


Human, Kyranian


« on: September 21, 2007, 08:08:49 AM »

Basic Information
     Name: Garret Arroway
     Gender: Male
     Age: 18
     Race: Human
     Tribe: Kyranian
     Occupation: Mercenary
     Title: The Wolfling

     Overview: Becoming a merchant after his father was never the life he wanted. Even at a young age he was fascinated by weapons and the fluent movements of the soldiers as they went through their daily drills. It wasn't the killing that drew him into the life he now led, but the simplicity and basics of the daily life of a fighter. Waking each day to follow someone else, to do good things for others, to put his life on the line for people he knew or didn't know. Many that know him say that he wants the life of a hero, and that is partially trust. Garrets main goal in his life is to make a difference in the world, any kind of difference. It could be as small as saving just one innocent's life or saving the life of many.

Appearance
     Height: 2 peds, 4 nailsbreadths
     Weight: 2 pygges, 5 hebs, 1 od, 3 muts
     Eye Color: Dark Grey
     Hair Color: Light Brown Hair with Blond Streaks
     Main Hand: Left

     Physical Appearance: Many would name him a giant. He stands tall over others at four nailsbreadths over two peds. The young mercenary weighs about two and a half pygges, with less than a mut of fat on him. Many would be wrong in guessing his profession. His large build and powerful arms give him the look of a smith, but he had always been big for his age. Sometimes his father jokingly questioned if Garret was actually his son when he was growing (though he believes that he takes after his Kuglimz grandparents).

     The differences between them were like night and day. His father was thin and lean while he often remarked that Garret looked like a walking mountain. After years on his own he had lost his soft outer layer and now his powerful chest and shoulders were rippling muscle. His flat stomach led into a narrow waist, a trait of his fathers. His legs were sturdy like the rest of him, toned from keeping pace with a wolf most days. He had thick, powerful arms as well, and large, strong hands that could break walnuts. His slightly weathered skin is a deep bronze from almost constant exposure to the elements for the last two years. The overall look of this handsome youth is fairly intimidating.

     His face has a boyish cast to it, soft features still prominent against the inevitable battle hardened look that most fighting men acquire. Soft, light brown hair streaked with dark blond from constant exposure to the sun. His hair is cut as was typically seen among the youth of his ancestors, though he's allowed it to grow a bit longer. The front is cut just above his ears, long enough to fall into his eyes, while the sides and then back is a bit longer, the latter long enough to cover most of his neck. During the times that he is just wandering around, he allows his hair to fall around his face and most of the times his straight locks have a windswept look to him, while the rest of the time it just looks a mess. When in battle or when he is aggravated by his hair constantly falling into his face, he will tie a strip of leather around his head to keep his hair at bay. The rest of the time that strip if wrapped around his left wrist.

     Soft, youthful eyes of dark grey peered from beneath thick brows. Eyes almost black filled with uncountable emotions. Pain and sorrow stands clearly forth among them though these emotions that were strong in the years before are beginning to fade. When he is worries his eyes will grow darker, while he never has noticed this though eventually someone will probably point it out. A slight brownish stubble coats his strong jaw most days, but the hair grows in light and he shaves every three days or so. Small scars can be found over his arms, legs, and chest, but it is his back that tells the story of his life.

     Long white scars where a leather belt had torn the soft skin multiple times cover his back. At the nape of his neck he has the Kyranian Coat of Arms, a black stag head and a star-gem between the antlers, tattooed. Also, he has a small wolf tattoo inked in black on the back of his left shoulder, the reason for his troubles.

     Clothing: More often than not a large grey shirt, short-sleeved or long-sleeved depending on the weather, stretches across his broad chest, covering the tops of straight legged, black pants that are covered or replaced from time to time by loose tough leathers. Over his grey shirt he will wear a short-sleeved chainmail shirt, the sleeves falling between his shoulder and elbow, and the bottom of the shirt falling to his waist. A sleeveless leather vest will sometimes be added, with sides that overlap, the bottom having three strips of leather with buckles at the end that slip through slits along the vest, while three more strips go around his torso and connect to the buckles.

A worn, old leather swordbelt is buckled around his waist with his bastard sword at his side. Soft, black, ankle-high boots cover his feet. A thick grey cloak can be found covering him in the winter and soft leather gloves, lined with the undercoat shed by Shadowfoot are sometimes worn. A small sack dangling from one shoulder holds a second set of regular clothes, his chainmail shirt, leather vest, gloves, and cloak along with other supplies. Lastly a strip of old leather tied around, either Garret's head or wrist is used to hold back his unruly hair at times.

Personality
     Garret is always grinning from ear to ear, ready for almost anything. He is easy going and always the first to laugh or joke with friends, and he is a very honest person and very friendly to everyone unless they give him a reason to not trust them. At first he his slightly timid around strangers but in no time at all he is at easy around almost everyone.

     Mostly he is the silent type, more prone to listening to others speak than sharing his own thoughts, but when he is comfortable around people he will indulge in a joke or boastful story of his own. Many believe him to be a gentle giant and it takes a lot to anger him, and when his is angry, it is not a pleasant sight. He has found himself in more than one fight because he is not afraid to stand up for what he believes in and he is rather stubborn and proud. Throughout the last couple years he had come to notice the little things in life and appreciate simplicity.

     He is also a very hard worker. When he is put to a task he will do his best to complete it to his standards, which are very high. As a youth he was privileged to be the son of a merchant, but after spending a year with his uncle out on the land he learned what hard work was. Since then he had adapted his uncle's views of a finished job and good days work.

     Many compare him to the wolf that he travels with. They say that he almost always has a wolfish grin on his youthful face and his mannerisms are almost canine. In battle he will fight with a shocking and driven fierceness, but his friends have noticed that he cares more about those that fight beside him than himself. He is extremely loyal to his friends as well, and many who have known him vouch that he is possibly the most loyal friend they have had. Along with all this, he is a keen listener and even though he doesn't always have advice for friends that come to him, he will listen intently. Sometimes that is all someone needs.
     
     He is very bold and always looking for the next grand adventure. Garret cares very little for his own life, willing to give it up for one great quest. Even thought he is easy going he is always watchful, not wanting to be caught off guard. While he cares little for his own life, he is very protective of his friends and would allow no harm to come to them if he could help it. But beneath his jolly facade he is slightly troubled. Only those that know him best can see the troubled youth beneath the boastful and happy-go-lucky young man. And there are very few that get to know him that well.

Strengths
     Blade - He has gained some skill with a sword, having trained since he was seven among the higher class of his tribe and living as a mercenary for the last two years. It is his strong point and the blade has been his passion for years. He still has along way to go in his training, but when he travels with a mercenary group he learns more from older warriors.

     Archery - He has a little skill with a bow. While traveling with his first mercenary group he was trained with the bow a bit. Garret isn't the best bowman but he can get off a few good shots every now and then. After leaving that group he abandoned the bow for a while. He hopes to eventually have enough coin to purchase one of his own.

     Endurance/Speed - Garret has lived with a wolf for a year and swiftly learned to keep up. Shadowfoot would trot for a while before waiting for him to catch up. The wolf pup did this for a while, allowing Garret to catch up. Now his has built up his endurance and he can keep pace with a trotting wolf most of the day. He also can run fairly fast, covering small stretches swiftly and without expending a lot of energy, but he can't keep up a full sprint without long periods of time.

     Strength - Garret is stronger than the average youth his age and he can even overpower most men. The first mercenary group he worked with used to have wrestling bouts or arm wrestling matches at nights and many lost a lot of coin against Garret. After a time they stopped challenging him because all knew that only a few of the older and larger men had a chance of overpowering him.

     Loyalty - Garret has an air of important around him and his need to keep other safe draws loyal friends to him, and he is loyal to others. This inspires the people around him. He is very open and honest with people about most things and this draws people to him. Garret is also a very loyal friend and will put others safety before his own. If he can safe a life in exchange for his own he will. He won't allow people to be left behind.

     Knowledge - Garret can read, write, and calculate some sums. His father has insisted that he learn these things before he took over the family trade. Even though he never became a merchant, he gained some experience in these areas. Along with this he had some knowledge of tactics and strategy from his training with the lesser nobility in Milkengrad.

     Shadowfoot - His Mirthral Wolf and guardian Shadowfoot is almost always near by. This great silver beast is his protector and greatest weapon. Well others see the wolf that way. Garret sees Shadowfoot as his closest friend. The wolf is well trained somehow seems to know when to stay out of things and when to get involved.

Weaknesses
     Impatience - Garret is very impatient. Youth gives way to rash decisions and can get him in trouble. In battle he will jump in at the first opening without seeing that it could set him up for disaster. And when speaking with others he will quickly lose patience with the person if the conversation doesn't seem to be getting anywhere.

     Anger - Garret is slow to anger but if someone succeeded in angering him, the situation can become dangerous. He always attempts to stay calm, but he cannot control himself when he is angry. His size and strength make him more dangerous than others when he is angry. He once nearly killed one of his friends and he was only attempting to stop him from injuring the person that had angered him.

     Opinionated - His big mouth more than once will get him into plenty of trouble. He will not back down from a challenge and he will always stand up for something he believes in. Garret has problems with knowing when to shut up or if offending someone. And his pride and stubbornness never allows him to be wrong. The only time he seems to be able to hold his tongue is when speaking to superiors.

     Battle - When in chaotic situation Garret tends to forget about himself in his quest to keep others alive and safe. He doesn't care about his own life, but is always watching out for his friends. His mind is on others and keeping them from being hurt. Because of this he often comes out of a battle with many small wounds and sometimes larger ones. Many comment that the odd thing about his style of fighting is the way he has of surviving it.

     Weak Stomach - While Garret is a large man, he has a rather weak stomach. The foul stench of sickness and waste within a confined space makes him queasy. The reek of sickness or infection causes him to empty his stomach most times, but this is only when it is confined and allowed to build. Out in the open it doesn't affect him that much. The smell of stale ale also agitates his stomach and so he often finds himself paying extra to stay at one of the nicer inns in cities to avoid those smells. Blood on the other hand doesn't bother Garret at all, which most find odd. He finds this somewhat strange as well, but doesn't complain due to the fact that his job deals with his own blood and the blood of others.

     Disregard for Life - Apparently Garret feels that his life has little value. After leaving his home he lost most of what made life worth living. To him, it seems that if he died there would be very few that would mourn him, so he would willingly give his life for another. He feels that even the lowest thief has more to live for than he does, but he doesn't realize how wrong he is. These are many that would mourn him if he passed, but he doesn't know this. Because of all this, he will put his life on the line for a friend or even the next great adventure. He feels that if he should exit this life, he would want to go out with a bang.

     Loyalty - Garret is fiercely loyal to his friends and will put himself in danger to help them out. He will not allow someone to get left behind or give up on someone. He is the type of person that would stand alone before a group of people that could kill him if it would buy his friends some extra time to get away. He has been forcibly dragged from making a stupid decision by some of his friends who claim that he was attempting to that the easy way out and sought a hero's death, but Garret has never seen it like that. In truth, during that encounter, if they had left him, those that had fallen would have survived.

     Back Pain - Most mornings his back bothers him. He believes that the pain comes from sleeping on the ground and previous back problems from over working himself. Some times it is just an uncomfortable feeling between his shoulders or in his lower back. It isn't always so easy on him. The pain can range from a minor discomfort to a deep ache that will make him miserable and distract him. This pain can also range from just when waking to the late afternoon, maybe longer.

     Past - The past is probably his greatest weakness. Memories are always attacking him, images of his parents, his fathers rage, the men he has killed, and more. They take control of him at times. When it happens only immense pain or the release of memories can pull him from it. During these times he is completely vulnerable. This also proves to be trouble cause it has been a factor in triggering an attack at least once before (see below).

     Scars - The angry scars across his back had never seemed to affect him until one day. During a small battle he had over extended or something. His back burned like it was on fire and it felt like the leather belt was ripping open the skin once more. His was helpless for a period of time. Shadowfoot being the only reason he was still alive. Garret didn't know the extent of the injury or his own limits since it had only happened once. And he hoped it never happened again, but he hoped in vain. This had affected him a few times since then and usually come about when he over uses his body or over extends in a fight. It has also bothered him a couple of times before he goes to sleep or right after he wakes up if he's been visited by the past.

History
     His father was a merchant in Caelum, and close friends with many of the noble men of the city. He always had the best goods for the nobles and quickly became one of the only merchants they trade with for jewels, gems, and other valuable items. Garret's father was one of the richest men in the city, only a step below the nobles. Garret's mother was the youngest daughter of a large and lowly noble family. His mother's father talked her into agreeing to marry the young merchant that was valuable to the nobles of the tribe. Reluctantly she went into this relationship, feigning willingness so her father would not be disappointed. She thought she would never love the man but after a few years together she had changed her mind. For almost ten years they lived together happily. Then Garret was born.
                   
     At first Garrets father was happy to have a son. His father and mother spoiled him with lavish gifts as a child. But it wasn't long before they noticed something was odd about him. Until he turned seven years old he was happy in the large two story house. Content with exploring his surroundings, but he never paid any attention to the gifts his parents bestowed upon him. At seven years of age, he had long grown bored of the house, having explored every bit of the place. During the days he would look out one of the windows, watching the daily events out in the street below, or would sneak onto the roof and watch the young nobles fight with swords in the castle courtyard on the other side of a tall stone wall.
                   
     During the days he was allowed outside, he would find wooden sticks and fight invisible creatures, mimicking the moves he saw the other young boys doing. One day his father had caught him at this, a weird look upon his sires face. Garret waited in fear but no punishment was forthcoming. One day thought, his father had returned home from a meeting with the nobles at the castle, his hands clasped behind his back, hiding something from the youth.
                   
     Garret bounced around eager to see what it was and then his father presented him with a gleaming sword. One the young nobles had been using. Shrunk to fit the hand and straight of a seven year old boy, the edges dulled and point pounded down so they could do little damage. But to Garret it was like holding the world in his hand, the shiny sword felt as if it had belonged there all along. The next day his father took him to the castle, and he was suited up onto a suit of padding and hustled off to the courtyard. And at seven years old he began to study the art of combat.
                   
     His father had spoken with his noble friends and a deal had been made. The nobles got a steep discount on the merchants good, and the man's son was taught to wield a blade along side the other sons of nobility. Even with the discount the merchants business prospered and so did his spirit as he laid eyes on the happy face of his little boy each night.
                   
     Garret studied with the Noble's sons for ten years. During those years they studied out in the field on how to use the weapon and they studied books on warfare and chivalry. Garret was at the head of his group, top of all his classes and he was the best with the sword in the group. He had learned so much in the years he had trained. But knew it would take a lifetime with the blade in hand to completely master it. And he was determined to master it.
                 
     When they had reached about thirteen and a half years of age (half a year from the manhood ceremony that those that lived far into a past they never knew still celebrated), the other boys returned to their parents, learning about the nobility, and some of the younger sons training to become knights or soldiers. Garrett had nothing left to do but return home. The training was done and he knew all the trainers were able to teach him but his thirst wasn't quenched. He wanted more. He wanted to go out into the world and learn more, to fight with the weapon he had trained with, and to master the blade.

     Through generations, his father's line had kept up the tradition of getting their peoples coat of arms tattooed onto their back. On Garrett's fourteenth birthday his father, grandfather, uncle, and two male cousins (already of age) went with him to the tattooist, who imbedded the ancient Kyranian coat of arms into his back, just below his neck. He wasn't forced, but rather, it was a choice all the man of his family had made before that point and he made the same choice. After that, the men of his family took him back home for a dinner cooked by his mother and grandmother, before going back out to celebrate. It was less than a month later that he celebrated with the city, participating in the events that didn't hold the same meaning they held for his ancestors.
                 
     This was where father and son parted. His father wanted Garrett to run the business after him, but Garrett didn't want to spend the rest of his days as a merchant. He wanted to be free to pursue his own life. He joined the guard the day after the manhood ceremony. After joining his returned home for his last night to tell his parents, having accepted a permanent bunk at the guardhouse because he knew his father would be mad. He snuck into the house, pulling off his new guard's shirt and tunic as he headed for the stairs, referring to break this to his parents slowly. His father chose at that moment to walk to the room. With wide eyes he stared at the uniform in his son's hands. He knew what it meant to his son and anger flared through him at the deliberate disobedience of the son he had given everything to.
                   
     He pulled of the thin leather belt from his waist and slashed at the boy with it before Garret knew of his father presence. White hot pain flared through him as the leather ripped open his back. Time and time again his father brought the belt down, slicing open his skin with each blow. Garrett stood there frozen with panic and pain. Then without thought as the fourth blow fell he ran from the house, his ever-present sword at his side, his shirt in hand and his back sliced open with blood pouring down it.

     He ran though the streets for a while, fleeing his father's rage, but once he was far enough away he calmed, holding back cries of pain as he put his shirt back on knowing that the wound would have people asking questions. Right then any questions were the last thing he needed. Garrett returned to the guardhouse, blaming some crazy guy in an alley when the others noticed the blood bleeding through his shirt.

     They called for a healer and got Garrett to lie down on a bunk on his stomach. He fell into a deep, fitful sleep, caused by bloodloss before the healer arrived. When he woke up his torso covered in stiff bandages. He looked around and discovered his still bloody shirt lying over the chest next to him. He tried to stand and soon the room was spinning. He placed a sturdy hand against a near by wall and waited for it to pass. He slowly stumbled over to his shirt and pulled the stiff fabric over his head. He slowly headed toward the mess hall. He entered and his fellows rushed him back to his bed where he stayed for the next week.

     As he lay in bed he tried to keep from thinking about his father and more about his sword work. After that week he was allowed up, but he was still wearing the bandages while the wound completely healed. He started his work, patrolling the market district of the city while he was healing. When he was allowed to remove the bandages he found that the skin had been too tight to stitch up and had been left open and stuffed with herbs to keep away infection. The wounds had healed, but he still bore four long, shallow splits on his back.

     He stayed with a guard for a year, deciding to leave instead of signing back on as the others had. A week before he had left he got a small wolf figure tattooed into the back of his left shoulder in black ink. To him is symbolized his freedom, the wander lust that had taken him in the last year, and the path he had alone chosen to take.

     Garret wandered for a time, having removed the distinct double 't' from his name in an attempt to leave his past behind him. He also grew his hair a bit longer and considered having the stag and gem burned off his back, but left it keeping his heritage if not his family. Other than memories it was the only link for his past. Unsure where he was going he traveled east and soon found himself on his uncle's lands, not entirely sure how his feet had led him there. He worked for his uncle for a year, earning minimal pay for a hard days work. Garret's father's brother never asked any questioned, but allowed the youth to work until he was sixteen, at which point he was released and told to go his own way.

     Garret thanked his uncle and headed south, finding a mercenary band that was hiring in the next town over. He joined up with them, traveling in the same direction for a while, fighting for pay where they found work. For about a year he worked with that group. Traipsing across the land and heading down toward the Yanthian Gulf. After a half a year he left them, seeking out another group. During the time with the second group he learned how to ride a horse. Not well, but well enough so he wouldn't fall off. Yet Garret still preferred the ground.

     The next group led him up into somewhat familiar territory and close to his uncle's lands. They headed for the Fores and at this point, Garret found Shadowfoot, a little Mithral wolf pup that had been the only one to survive of its family. When he brought the pup back to the camp, the others wanted to kill it right away, but the leader allowed Garret (still sixteen by only a month) to keep the pup as long as he raised it right. Any sign of it becoming dangerous and it would be killed. He agreed and started training the wolf pup.

     He brought the pup up like he had a dog when he was younger, rewarding it when it did well and punishing it when bad, though he knew it was more dangerous. He spent every bit of time with the pup, trying to form a bond with it by closeness. Now, more than a year later, Shadowfoot is the closest friend he has and he thinks of the wolf like a younger brother from time to time. Shadowfoot, while being extremely gentle, is like a giant puppy, finding both human and wolf to be alike in more than one way. The pair travels together, earning money and helping each other.

Equipment
     Weapons: Garret carries a bastard sword given to him at the end of his training with the other nobles. He had begun training with a longsword, but was switched to the bastard sword as he grew and was trained well with the longer weapon. The blade is two fores and two palmspans long and the handle is about two palmspans and a half a dozen nailsbreadths. The guard and pommel is about as unremarkable as the leather wrapped grip and sharp blade, but it makes the weapon no less deadly.

     Belongings: Garret always carries with him his bastard sword and a backpack. His clothing, his leather shirt, chainmail shirt, food rations, thick blanket, a mirror and shaving knife, flint and steel, a few waterskins, and a small coin pouch go into the backpack. The pouch of coins is fairly heavy. The last few jobs he has had were rather eventful and merchants have been glad to protect their wears from bandits.

Familiar
     Name: Shadowfoot
     Gender: Male
     Age: 13 - 15 months
     Species: Wolf
     Type: Mithral

     Height: 2 fores, 2 palmspans, 5 nailsbreadths
     Length: 2 peds, 4 nailsbreadths
     Weight: 1 pygge, 3 hebs
     
     Blood Lines: Shadowfoot is believed to be part warg (grandfather was a warg) due to his size, as he is closer to a ped in height than the two fores and a palmspan common for his breed. He was found in the mountains and mountain varieties tend to be a bit larger.

     Appearance: Fully grown, Shadowfoot stands almost a ped in height and a few nailsbreadths over two peds in length, including his long bushy tail. He is very muscular and strong, and had been the largest in his litter as a pup. His bulk keep him from being as fast as other wolves, but he is still pretty fast when sprinting over open ground and can keep a measured pace throughout a day. Long, powerful legs and massive paws are parts that separate him from a common dog, along with his coat, long snout, and golden eyes.

     His bulky coat is made up of two layers, one which he sheds in the spring. The undercoat is a solid, pure white and is very soft. The second layer is a bit courser than the other, but still somewhat soft. Shadowfoot's pelt is somewhat unique. Most of his body is covered with pure, silvery grey fur, while only certain areas show the duller colors. His paws are a dark, grayish-black. The top of his head is mostly silvery, with his eyes being surrounded by a duller grey color and his neck bring a lighter, duller grey as well. Along his neck and chest, where the duller grey shows through, there are also hints of rust red mixed in here and there.

     Personality/Temperament: Shadowfoot is a very playful animal and a puppy as heart no matter how old he gets. He is always looking to play with his human, Garret, and always wants attention. He will tug on Garret's clothes or pounce on him when they are lounging on the roadside. The only times he's not trying to grab his owners attention to play is when he is tired, hungry, or can sense Garret's caution or wariness of a new place. He is very close to his human and can tell when he is sad, angry, cautious, happy, or anything else by the way he reacts to certain things, like tensing when he is unsure about a place or person.

     Around others Shadowfoot is cautious and will stick close to Garret until he gets to know that person. He would never hunt cattle, horses, or pets unless his is truly starving, but his owner does a good job of getting him fed. Still, the wolf doesn't like stables and the owners of the stables don't generally like the wolf in them, so he is usually allowed to follow Garret, and if there is the option, Garret will go to another inn if one requests that he leave the wolf outside. He hates being parted with his companion as much as Shadowfoot hates being parted with his human.

     The silvery wolf is very protective of his human and will put his life on the line for him. They have grown up almost like brothers, with Garret being the older, more adult figure. In a fight, Shadowfoot will always be beside his human to back him up, and if Garret leaves him somewhere before going to fight, he will escape and join him. Even the slightest hostility toward Garret will set the wolf off into a deep-throated, warning snarl, and only his human's reassuring touch will calm him.

     History/Training: While crossing the Lower Fores with a mercenary company, he stumbled upon a wolf den. The mother lay dead in the red snow some five feet away, multiple stab wounds covering her. If he would have searched more around the den he would have found the rest of the small pack had met the same unfortunate fate. He also found four dead pups in a shallow stone cave that passed as a den, their necks broke. As he turned to leave he heard a small yip and turned back toward the den. Searching the area he found another pup, hidden beneath dead grasses and his dead littermates. The living pup was the largest of the group.

     While living with his parents he spent much time roaming the city, befriending the mangy curs that walked the back alleyways. After obtaining many bites and scratched he finally managed to gain their respect. Garret had always easily befriended most animals he met. When he found the pup, its eyes were still closed and he was unsure how it had surviving but that was good enough for him. Slowly he nursed the pup through childhood and having been the first creature it saw they bonded quickly. The pup was rebellious at first, and Garret got many a small scar from trying to train him, but in time they grew close. They had been together for a little over a year now. The bond between boy and wolf grew with each passing day.
« Last Edit: January 06, 2009, 12:26:15 AM by Garret Arroway » Logged

Before you kill him, think of what you take from him. Remember what it is to be alive.
Quote: Robin Hobb
Vesk Lyricahl
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« Reply #1 on: September 23, 2007, 06:13:12 AM »

From what is written on the Kyranians, they seem unplayable to me, just on account of the information missing from their entry. Underdeveloped tribes are banned from play, and the Kyranians suit that category as they lack even a People section. I would recommend the Helcrani instead. Your character seems suited for the Helcrani already, so I'd imagine that not too much has to be changed.
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Kalna Dal'isyrs
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« Reply #2 on: September 23, 2007, 08:04:05 AM »

Usually constant changes are suggested by the moderators. Also, if there are any major changes which need to be noted, please color them so we know exactly what you changed and we don't have to search for those passages.
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Insanity is only a perception made by those who have yet to attain its greatness. While those of us who have already stepped inside its bounds find bliss in our utter madness.
Nai'r en'Lina ar'Kaimel
Kalna Dal'isyrs
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« Reply #3 on: September 23, 2007, 03:24:15 PM »

All depends on the character and who is available to make comments and approve. These days, about a week or so...
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Insanity is only a perception made by those who have yet to attain its greatness. While those of us who have already stepped inside its bounds find bliss in our utter madness.
Nai'r en'Lina ar'Kaimel
Kalna Dal'isyrs
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« Reply #4 on: September 24, 2007, 02:23:52 AM »

Ok, just a couple of things.

You are very young to be living as a mercenary, especially if he started at the age of 14. Unless there were impending circumstances, I doubt anyone would hire him until at least the age of 16-18, generally when a child becomes an "adult".

He is skilled with a sword...compared to what?  You are only 16 and have very little experience.
« Last Edit: September 24, 2007, 02:25:05 AM by Kalna Mrnwn » Logged

Insanity is only a perception made by those who have yet to attain its greatness. While those of us who have already stepped inside its bounds find bliss in our utter madness.
Nai'r en'Lina ar'Kaimel
Twn Arerwn
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« Reply #5 on: September 24, 2007, 07:58:14 AM »

Hello Garret and welcome to Santharia! My comments shall be in the ever-ugly color: Orange
Name: Garret Arroway

Gender: Male

Age: 18

Race: Human

Tribe: Helcrani

Occupation: Mercenary

Title: The Wolfling

Appearance
   Height: 2 peds

   Weight: 1 pygges pygge and about 6 hebs

   Eye Color: Dark Grey Grey

   Hair Color: Light Brown Hair With Blond Streaks

   Physical Appearance: Garret stood taller than his father, at two peds. Weighing at about one pygge and a half a dozen or so hebs, with less than a mut of fat on him. He was well muscled, broad shoulders and chest. His arms were corded with raw power, a slim waist, and sturdy but slender legs. His skin was a deep bronze and slightly weathered from almost constant exposure to the elements for the last two years. His light brown hair streaked with sun bleached blond. A strip of old leather tied around his head to keep his jaw length hair at bay. Soft, youthful eyes of dark grey peered from beneath thick brows. Eyes almost black filled with uncountable emotions. Pain and sorrow stood clearly forth among them. His face had a boyish cast to it though a slight stubble coated his jaw. His back bearing long white scars where a leather whip had tore the soft skin multiple times. At the nape of his neck a small wolf tattoo inked in black, the reason for his troubles. Dividing this section into perspective paragraphs would do wonders for its readability.

   Clothing: A pair of travel stained and torn brown pants covering his lower body, an old leather swordbelt around his waist. Worn leather boots near the point of hopelessness graced his feet. A large grey shirt stretched across his broad chest covered by a large grey cloak tattered to the point of unlessness <--uselessness. Lastly a strip of old leather was tied around Garret's head, holding back his unruly hair.

Personality: Garret is always grinning from ear to ear, ready for almost anything. Easy going and always the first to laugh or joke with friends. At first he his slightly timid around strangers at first but in no time at all he is at easy around everyone. He's very boastful and can rival the best at tall tales. He is very proud and most time stubburn. Also has a quick temper and big mouth, and has a problem knowing when to shut up. He is very bold and always looking for the next grand adventure. He cares very little for his own life, willing to give it up for one great quest. Even thought he is easy going he is always watchful, not wanting to be caught off guard. While he cares little for his life, he is very protective of his friends and would allow no harm to come to them if he could help it. But beneath his jolly facade he is slightly troubled. Only those that know him best can see the trouble youth beneath the boastful and happy-go-lucky young man. And there are very few that get to know him that well. This section should also be broken down into perspective paragraphs. Writing it like this makes for a continually changing paragraph. To many ideas lumped together to create a block of text.

Strengths:      Blade - he has gained some skill with a sword, having trained since he was seven among the higher class of his tribe and living as a mercenary for the last two years. It is his strong point and the blade has been his passion for years. He still has along way to go in his training, but each day he travels with a mercenary group he learns more from older warriors. If he is living amongst a mercenary group, it will be hard for him to find adventures. You need to have him more free roaming so he is not limited to a specific area.
                         Trading - he is very good at bargaining and haggling, his father was a merchant so he learned much from him, also he is very outspoken and that helps.
                         Loyalty - an air of important around him, and his need to keep other safe draws loyal friends to him, and he is loyal to others. This inspires the people around him.
                        Persuasion - his grey gaze can intimidate others as easily as it gathers friends. He is able to sometimes persuade others to help him, or give up information by attitude, body language, and his either cold or warm gaze.

Weaknesses:    Impatience - he is very impatient. In a battle he will jump in at the first opening without seeing that it could set him up for disaster. When speaking with others he will quickly lose patience with the person if the conversation doesn't seem to be getting anywhere.
                            Anger - he has a quick temper that varies in the situation. Sometimes it is moderately bad or sometimes he goes into a sort of berserker rage. This causes problems when dealing with merchants, citizen, enemy's, and people in general. You mention above that he has great persuasion skills. How is that possible when he could/would fly into a berserk rage against those he is dealing with? These are very contradictory personality traits and it is hard for me to understand how this works.
                            Opinionated - his big mouth more than once will get him into plenty of trouble. He has problems with knowing when to shut up or if offending someone.
                           Age - his youth prevents him from being as skilled as most other swordsman. While each day he tries to learn as much as he can, though he still has a long way and it frustrates him. Just because he is young and this limits his skill in battle, does not make this a weakness. This is a limit of his strength not a weakness in and of itself.

History: His father was a merchant in Milkengrad, and close friends with many of the noble men of the city. He always had the best good for the nobles and quickly became one of the only merchants they trade with for jewels, gems, and other valuable items. Garret's father was one of the richest men, a step below the nobles. His mother was the youngest daughter of a large and lowly noble family. Her father talked her into agreeing to marry the young merchant that was valuable to the nobles of the tribe. Reluctantly she went into this relationship, feigning willingness so her father would not be disappointed. She thought she would never love the man but after a few years together she had changed her mind. For almost then <--ten years they lived together happily. Then Garret was born.
                   
                   At first Garrets father was over joyed to have a son. His father and mother spoiled him with lavish gifts as a child. But it wasn't long before they noticed something was odd about the child. Until he turned seven years old he was happy in the large two story house. Content with exploring his surroundings, but he never payed any attention to the gifts his parents bestowed upon him. At seven years of age, he had long grown board <--bored of the house, having explored every inch of the place. During the days he would look out one of the windows, watching the going on out in the street below, or would sneak onto the roof and watch the young nobles fight with swords in the castle courtyard on the other side of a tall stone wall.
                   
                    During the days he was allowed outside, he would find wooden sticks and fight invisible creatures, mimicking the moves he saw the other young boys doing. One day his father had caught him at this, a weird look upon his sires face. Garret waited in fear but no punishment was forthcoming. One day thought, his father had returned home from a meeting with the nobles at the castle, his hands clasped behind his back, hiding something from the youth.
                   
                    Garret bounced around eager to see what it was and then his father presented him with a gleaming sword. One the young nobles had been using. Shrunk to fit the hand and straight of a seven year old boy, the edged dulled and point pounded down so they could do little damage. But to Garret it was like holding the world in his hand, the shiny sword felt as if it had belonged there all along. The next day his father took him to the castle, and he was suited up onto a suit of padding and hustled off to the courtyard. And at seven years old he began to study the art of combat.
                   
                      His father had spoken with his noble friends and a deal had been made. The nobles got a steep discount on the merchants good, and the mans son was taught to wield a blade along side the other sons of nobility. Even with the discount the merchants business prospered and so did his spirit as he laid eyes on the happy face of his little boy each night.
                   
                      Garret studied with the Noble's sons for ten years. During those years they studied out in the fField on how to used the weapon and they studied books on warfare and chivalry. Garret was at the head of his group, he aced Aced?! Words such as these to grade his learning should be avoided. These are modern terms. all the classes and he was the best with the sword in the group. He had almost mastered he is extremely young to have mastered anything. the magnificent weapon. Knowing it would take many more years with the blade in hand to completely master it, he was at least halfway there.
                 
                      When they had reached sixteen years of age, the other boys returned to their parents, learning about the nobility, some of the younger sons training to become knights or soldiers. Garret had nothing left to do but return home. The training was done and he knew all the trainers were able to teach him but his thirst wasn't quenched. He wanted more. He wanted to go out into the world and learn more, to fight with the weapon he had trained with, and to master the sword.
                 
                      This was where father and son parted. His father wanted Garret to run the business after him, but Garret didn't want to spend the rest of his days as a merchant. He wanted to be free, to roam the world with the wind in his face, his past to his back. One day he went into the city and found a tattooist. He thought for a long while and it suddenly came to him. The wolf, the great embodiment of freedom, to run through the wild and go where you want when you want to. An on that day, Garret had a small wolf tattooed at the nape of his neck.
                 
                      When he returned him that day he grinned to himself, knowing that soon he would leave. The tattoo on his back itched fiercely and knowing he couldn't scratch it a mild anger consumed him. Without thought he ripped off his shirt, exposing the tattoo. Free of the itchy cotton and with the fresh air on it, the itching died, replaced by a cool since <--sense of relief. His father chose at that moment to walk to the room. With wide eyes he stared at the abomination, inked into his sons back. He too understood what the wolf meant to his son. And anger flared through him at the deliberate disobedience of the son he had given everything to. He pulled of the thin leather belt from his waist and slashed at the boy with it before Garret knew of his father presence. White hot pain flared through him as the leather ripped open his back. Time and time again his father brought the belt down, slicing open his skin with each blow. Garret stood there frozen with panic and pain. Then without thought as the fifth blow fell he ran from the house, his ever-present sword at his side, his shirt in hand, and his back sliced open with blood pouring down it.
                   
                     After that incident Garret never returned home. He traveled on his down for a while, as the wounds healed, living off the scare <--scarce nourishment that the plants around him provided. He traveled south, and soon caught up with a mercenary band. He joined up with them, traveling south, fighting for pay where they found work. For about a year he worked with that group. Trapsing <--Traipsing across the land and heading down toward the Yanthian Gulf. After almost a year he left them, seeking out another group. Finding some work here and there along the way. Working with a group of rugged mercenaries for a while before going his own way. Now he travels around, heading north mostly, looking for another group or a new adventure. Still baring the cost of his freedom.
 
Weapons: His sword, a wondrous piece of gleaming steel given to him and the rest of the group when they ended their training.

Belongings: His sword and the clothes on his back. A small leather pack filled with dried fruits and vegetables. A small pouch of coins.

Familiar: Mithral Wolf. While traveling in the north with a mercenary company, he stumbled upon a wolf den. The mother lay dead in the red snow some five feet away, multiple stab wounds covering her. Four dead pups in the den as well, their necks broke. As he turned to leave he heard a small yip and turned back toward the den. Searching the area he found another pup underneath the others. The living pup was the largest of the group. It grew to about 2 fores and 2 palmspans high, very muscular, with solid sliver fur.       
                    While living with his parents he spent much time roaming the city, befriending the mangy curs that walked the back alleyways. After obtaining many bites and scratched he finally managed to gain their respect. He had alway been good with animals. When he found the pup, its eyes were still closed and he was unsure how it had surviving but that was good enough for him. Slowly he nursed the pup through childhood and having been the first creature it saw they bonded quickly. The pup was rebellious at first, and Garret got many a small scar from trying to train him, but in time they grew close. They had been together for a little over a year now. The bond between them as grown with each passing day. This wolf should be listed in his strengths section. It is a predatory animal with killer instincts and as such is a weapon, companion and guardian for your character.

I hope my comments help you on your path towards a title. If you have any questions please feel free to ask them here and g'luck.
~Sincerely~
Co f cr'tuuln:Twen Araerwen
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The spell fell upon the crowd like a dragon,
ancient and full of death.
Twn Arerwn
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Elf, Iferhm


« Reply #6 on: September 25, 2007, 09:22:25 AM »

Hello again Garret! I see you have integrated many of my comments, and things are really looking good here. I have but two minor things that need attention. Once these are finished a title should not be far in the distance.

Items of Interest
1) There are still more than a few grammatical mistakes scattered about the CD. Using the spell-check on site will help somewhat in this regard. Also reading over the entire CD slowly will reveal a few others.
2) As it stands your characters S&W section are not balanced. The addition of a couple minor weaknesses or one that is truly detrimental would easily fix this problem.

Once you clear up these minor things I will do another complete read-over and all should be good from there.
~Sincerely~
Co f cr'tuuln:Twen Araerwen
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The spell fell upon the crowd like a dragon,
ancient and full of death.
Simonne Miller
Guest
« Reply #7 on: September 26, 2007, 01:04:28 AM »

Hello Garret :)

There are just a few minor things I'd like to point out.

- In the beginning of your CD, you mingle past and present, and very often you don't even have a verb. A sentence is much easier to read if it has a subject and a verb :)

- When he runs away from home, how did his wounds heal? A minor wound you could just leave like that, to heal on its own, but his flesh ripped away five times would need treatment. If not it would get infected and he would die. Or he'd need to leave his shirt off for a long time, which is not such a good idea because he could get pneumonia. So did he look for help? Did someone find him?

- In the familiar section, you state that four pups are lying in the wolf's den with their necks broken. Now, a wolf's den is very often a deep tunnel, so he wouldn't be able to see them. Likewise, whoever killed the mother wolf wouldn't have been able to go down there, not without some kind of light. More likely would be that they were already weaned and that they were playing outside when the killer found them. One of them could have fled to the den and could now be whimpering around the mother, for example. Also, only a mother wolf is not so likely, as she needs the other members of the pack to feed her while she is producing milk for the pups. She'd have died if nobody could come and feed her and the pups, before a human killer could come along :)

All right, that's it. You should be close to titling :)
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Twn Arerwn
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Elf, Iferhm


« Reply #8 on: September 27, 2007, 10:41:11 AM »

Quote
Scars - The angry scars across his back had never seemed to affect him until one day. During a small battle he had over extended or something. His back burned like it was on fire and it felt like the leather belt was ripping open the skin once more. His was helpless for a period of time. Shadowfoot being the only reason he was still alive. Garret didn't know the extent of the injury or his own limits since it had only happened once. And he hoped it never happened again.
This weakness sounds like it could/may never afflict him again. If it never afflicts him again this is not a weakness and still leaves you unbalanced.
~Sincerely~
Co f cr'tuuln:Twen Araerwen
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The spell fell upon the crowd like a dragon,
ancient and full of death.
Simonne Miller
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« Reply #9 on: September 27, 2007, 09:34:58 PM »

I don't have time to read your cd through now, just a few small things:

- mind your spelling: plague not plage; Mithral not Mirthral.

- when are his broad shoulders not a help? Perhaps this is an idea for a minor weakness?
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Garret Arroway
The Wolfling
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« Reply #10 on: September 27, 2007, 09:45:07 PM »

Spellings not really a strong point for me but i try to work on it  grin ... fixed the things pointed out ... Thanks for ur time Simonne
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Before you kill him, think of what you take from him. Remember what it is to be alive.
Quote: Robin Hobb
Twn Arerwn
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« Reply #11 on: September 28, 2007, 09:43:50 AM »

Fundamentally speaking I see nothing else I have questions about. If Simonne is pleased with your edits then you can consider this your: ~First Approval~

P.S.: Simonne I added your name and the question mark, as you mentioned things you wanted to see done. Please have a look at them and remove your name from the threads title if you are happy with them.
~Sincerely~
Co f cr'tuuln:Twen Araerwen
« Last Edit: September 28, 2007, 09:50:29 AM by Twn Arerwn » Logged

The spell fell upon the crowd like a dragon,
ancient and full of death.
Simonne Miller
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« Reply #12 on: September 28, 2007, 02:41:51 PM »

All right for me :) Please remove the colour from your CD so that Kali or Vesk can give you a title ;)
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Vesk Lyricahl
Woeful Rover
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Human, Eyelian


« Reply #13 on: September 29, 2007, 01:36:22 AM »

Titled, so come on down!

*straightens his Bob Barker wig*
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Seh'nara Celebrindal
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Elf, Tethinrhim


« Reply #14 on: February 10, 2008, 01:53:00 PM »

Pulled up, as per your request. Have fun! :)
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