Gavril 'Whitebeard' Baird / Centoraurian / Storyteller & Mage

[Gavril 'Whitebeard' Baird]

Basic Information
     Name: Gavril 'Whitebeard' Baird
     Gender: Male
     Age: 61
     Race: Human
     Tribe: Centoraurian
     Occupation: Mage / Storyteller
     Title: Deluded Chatterbox

     Overview: Level ten mage Gavril Baird, affectionately known as Whitebeard by children, is completely insane, and for the most part harmless. All magical ability Gav claims to possess is the product of his insanity. This old man believes that the so called 'spells' he uses actually make things happen. In his early years he was more 'cautious' in his opinion, though as he hasn’t be arrested and imprisons in that time he enjoys going around 'magic'ing people into ash. Not just ordinary piles of ash, but walking, talking piles of ash that he refers to as 'Ash Pile #'. On top of that he even turned his pet mouse, Ash, into a pile of ash for eating his cheese, and he constantly talks to the little animal, or the little pile of ash, as the creature appears in his mind.

     Anyone that spends a few moments with this man could tell that he is absolutely out of his mind. He is also pretty much harmless unless he feels he is in danger, at which point he will start flailing his staff around as he recites imaginary incantations, becoming a danger to anyone within range. Aside from that he is rather friendly and good with most children, though his tendency to be somewhat rude can get him in trouble with the occasional hot-head.

Appearance
     Height: 1 ped, 2 fores, 1 palmspan, 3 nailsbreadths, and 3 grains
     Weight: 1 pygge, 3 hebs, 1 hafeb, and 1 od
     Hair Color: Silvery White
     Eye Color: Steel Blue
     Main Hand: Left

     Physical Appearance: Wreathed in a mass of rebellious silvery white hair, two steel blue eyes tell everything that anyone would want to know about this man before he even opens his mouth to speak, but only if they take the time to look. Foremost in the front of all other emotions is a spark of child-like wonder that baffles people as they look upon his clearly aged face, silvery white hair, and frail appearance. Even though he has lived and experienced a good deal in his sixty one years of life, he still looks upon the world with a child-like wonder, as if everything he encounters is new and exciting. Behind that, everything from the excitement of his experiences, joy of the various friends he’s made, to even the pain of a past that is still present deep down within his own memories and those memories, thoughts, stories, and legends that he had claimed as his own.

     Covering most of his head and face is a large, unkempt mane of silvery white. Gav still has a full, thick head of hair that appears to have experienced a distinct lack of brushing and cutting for a good portion of his life. The longest strands fall just past the middle of his back in a mass of slightly wavy hair in which small handfuls are all trying to go in a different direction, giving the elder man a rather eccentric look. Errant strands often break loose of the confines of his wide brimmed hat on a regular basis, mingling with bushy white eyebrows to pretty much cover his forehead. The only patches of skin on his face that can truly be seen are his eyes and nose as his thick beard stops at his cheek bones, exposing a tanned and weathered patch of skin just beneath his eyes and a somewhat crooked nose. The rest of his face is covered with a long, bristly beard, of color identical to the hair on his head and the rest of his face, that hides his mouth for the most part and falls down to his waist, thinning out as it goes to end in a dignified, if rather rough point.

     Along with his robe, his long hair and beard successfully manage to hide his thin torso, though long skinny arms, both covered by baggy sleeves, ending in thin wrists and large long-fingered hands give away the fact that his is rather thin, though by the amount of food he consumes, none would ever guess it. However, an obvious lack of physical strength is noticed. This thin torso leads into a narrow waist around which a rope belt containing the pouches he keeps his spell components in, as well as long, thin legs. This gives him a frail appearance, as if a gust of wind just might blow him away, which he will often say, it's something he truly wishes for because that would mean he had finally managed to learn how to fly.
 
     Clothing: Fancy, flamboyant, and absurd are just three words to describe Gavril's choice of clothing. With a pair of plain straight-legged pants and a of couple loose shirts, one long-sleeved and a few short-sleeved, he carts around no less than four robe and hat combinations at a time. While the other three might change from time to time, there is one he always keeps with him and if it wears out he will go out of his way to buy another one from the same shop in New-Santhala. This one is dyed a strange whitish-cream color with random silvery swirls throughout the article, with the hat to match.

     While that is his favorite robe, he wears the other ones as often as he knows that the more he wears it the sooner it will wear out and he will have to travel without it for a while as he heads toward New-Santhala. The robes are pretty much any color he desires at the time. If he tires of a color he will sell it or just discard it and buy another one in a different color, though by the time he finishes talking and bartering with a merchant who realizes he isn't all there, he'd be better off just giving it to some random person.

     All of his robes are long flowing, colorful articles of clothing, usually falling to rest just above the ground, flapping about his feet as he walks. On the helm of the robe he usually has some odd trim and/or embroidery such as swirls, zig-zags, or even creatures, but his silvery-white robe is clean of any decorations. Each of these also has long sleeves with wide openings, which hang down another palmspan at least on the smallest of them. To finish it off, each has a deep hood that he pulls up over his head when it gets windy and he must remove his hat for fear of it flying away.

     His hats are overly dramatic pieces of work as well. Gav wears what he believes to be a traditional witch, wizard, or magic user's hat, which has a wide brim with a cone spouting up from the middle. However, his hats tend to be on the rather flimsy side as the cone in the middle is always bent at a different place and angle each day, and the wide brim has a habit of falling down into his face from time to time.

     To finish off his outfit, he has a few, rope belts, which he uses to tie his robes at the waist with his component pouches slip through the thin cord. These seem oddly plain against his colorful attire, though he finds that he has a habit of misplacing belts and also has an issue with the buckles so he sticks to the rope, as he has no problem tying things. From time to time he will also find a dyer in which ever city his is in and try and dye a piece of rope to match his outfit. This whole thing is completed by a pair of scuffed black boots that reach his calves, mostly hidden by his robes.

Personality
     While his eyes appear to look at everything as if it brand new to him, his mind is rather developed, if not a little bit twisted. Gavril seems to have a habit of ‘stealing’ ideas, thoughts, memories, stories, myths and such without meaning too. In his world, everything he hears sticks and after a time seems to turn into a memories so that he believes those are actually his thoughts, ideas, memories and he actually lived through those stories, events, times and met people who lived around the beginning of it all. Once, believing a conversation he overheard in a tavern to be a memory of his own, he told a local woman as some village he knew what it was like to give birth and had three daughters of his own. Needless to say, he was shunned by that particular woman even after the town had spread the word that he wasn’t ‘all there’.

     However, while many would consider the mentally ill to be child-like, Gavril functions rather well, if not a little scatterbrained from time to time. People tend to come to that conclusion when one is found in their room, rummaging through their belongs in search of some mysteriously disappearing fruit. Gav is perfectly capable of carrying on a conversation or speaking with someone, though he has a habit of leading into stories and turning the conversation in directions he wants to it to go. He’s somehow managed to turn a discussion on the inn’s apple soup into a story about how he was the main participant in the war of the chosen, fighting on the side of good as a messenger for the gods. At that point, if his madness isn’t already perfectly clear, it's pretty obvious.

     While he can pass as a functioning member of society his main problem is that he lives in his own little world. In ‘his world’ he’d a level ten mage that can use magic from all four elements along with life magic, blood magic (though he‘s slightly squeamish when it comes to his own blood so he leaves this magic be), demonology, druidic magic, shadowmancy, and a bit of hedge-witchery. Along with that, his world has subtle differences, namely in the way that anyone he ‘magic’ed to ash now appears as walking, talking ash piles in his mind.

     Finally Gavril is a talker, but he doesn’t know how to reply to certain things. When something comes up that he can’t think of a suitable rely to he will pause for a moment before randomly starting another conversation on a completely different topic. Also, when he gets into story mode, there is little to stop him once he starts a tale and then if given the chance to tell another he’ll take it, over and over until he gets tired, at which point he is usually talking to himself.

Strengths
     - Walking Stick: While Gav will claim that this poorly carved hunk of wood holds magical properties and other such, it's just a plain walking stick. However, when in he believes that he is in danger, he will start rattling off things he believes are spells, with lead to rather wide gestures with his arms. At that point anyone within range of that staff is in danger of getting hit, no matter if they are friend or foe.

     - Storyteller: Living in his own little world for most of his life had done somewhat more than drive him to insanity, though that in itself has aided him as well. He has a knack for telling wild, outrageous stories that range from completely out there to oddly funny. Once in a while romantic notions and childhood dreams enter the tellings or control the tellings, but those are definitely not his best stories. However, he tends to be a little long winded and even if people don't stick around to listen he will go on talking until he finishes his story or is interrupted.

     - Read / Write: While this isn't something he uses much, Gavril does have the ability to read and write as he was taught as a child. For the most part the only time he uses this is when reading any signs there might be or reading his cookbook / 'spell book'. From time to time is becomes a bit more useful, but for the most part its not a huge part of who he is.

     - Rich: Ah, never really wanting for nothing is the life to lead. Gavril inherited his parent's money and business when they died. His uncle, who had always taken an interest in Gav before he went insane, took over the business after Gavril's parent's death and then passed it on to his son. His cousin still takes care of him when he needs it and offers up a wing on the house when he returns to Salsair for a few days. While Gavril doesn't like the life of luxury, he doesn't lack for food or clothing.

     - Mage Guise/Belief: While he has no magical ability at all he still dresses like a mage, carries around a staff he claims to have magical abilities, carts around a variety of medium sized pouches at his waist for what he claims to be spell components, and acts as if he is a mage. For the most part, this helps in scaring away those that don't really know the difference between a real mage and … Gavril. The fact that be believes he is a mage also helps his image, though it only really holds up for those that don't know any better.

Weaknesses
     - Absolutely Mad: It only takes a few moments of talking with Gavril to figure out that he is completely insane, though in the most harmless way possible. He pretty much lives in his own little world, which is much like the actual world, though in his world he can do magic, turn people into walking, talking piles of ash just because he wants to, and knows various people and was around for events that others might have lived or happened thousands of years ago. He once claimed to have been a key player in the War of the Chosen, and in his mind, he was.

     - Rude: While calling people 'Ash Pile #1' and 'Ash Pile #2' isn't exactly the way to get ahead in life, it’s the only way he knows. In his mind, people that he 'magic'ed into ash are just walking, talking piles of ash with no definable traits so he calls them Ash Pile and adds a number onto the end. As long as they don't move around and switch places on him he can pretty much keep the numbers straight. Other than that he just seems to lack the part of common sense that tells people when something is inappropriate or childish and just blurts those things out. He can't help it and this makes him a bit 'unpopular' from time to time.

     - Slightly Deaf: After an explosion in his youth, when he tried and failed to learn magic, he has had trouble hearing, though now that is often mistaken for being associated with his age. This hearing issue has led to some trouble in the past and will definitely in the future. He always has to ask people to repeat themselves, getting words wrong and ending up ranting about something or saying something rude, or mistaking something for a threat, which usually leads to some kind of injury. Though, he has also taken on the childish habit of pretending he doesn't hear something is he doesn't want to listen or the person he is talking to is being 'mean'.

     - Gullible: If someone told him the sky was orange, there is a good chance Gavril would believe it, and then from that point on, see an orange sky. He pretty much believes most of what people tell him and takes them for the truth. Much of the events he has been part of and people he supposedly knows are part of this as he heard about them and believes that they are actually part of his history. Along with feeding him false information, people have sometimes tricked him out of a few coins or into doing stupid things.

     - Age: Creaking bones, early bed-times, worsening hearing, and occasionally fuzzy vision are signs that should tell Gavril he's getting old, but he never seems to listen. He still believes he's a young teenager once again, however, he has his limits. He doesn't cover as much ground in a day as he used to, he sometimes forgets his trail of thought and sometimes feels like he's forgetting his past, though considering the events some would see it as a blessing. However Gavril sees it as if he was loosing his own identity, which in some opinions is already gone or horribly distorted by his madness. However, age continues to take over him, causing him to slow down even if he doesn't want to.

     - Reality Check: While his little world doesn't melt around him to expose the real world, sometimes he does come to the realization that piles of ash don't and shouldn't talk. These little callings from reality are not very common, but when they occur he is reduced to a muttering ball of flowing robes, or in some cases he had turned to violence and started swinging his walking stick at the piles of ash.

History
     Date of Birth: 17th of Frozen Rivers, Year 1607 a.S.
     City of Birth: Salsair
          Father: Darthorn Baird
          Mother: Tarisa Baird
          Siblings: N/A

     In a crowded inn in Salsair, during the last Festival of the Horse, Gavril sat, huddled in a corner by the fire, silently watching the dancing flames. The sound of children laughing as they weaved through the legs of the inn's customers wasn't lost on him and a faint, kind smile could be seen on his features as he peered into the hearth. It wasn't until a child tugged lightly on a corner of his flowing cloak that he looked away. Gav glanced down at brown-haired child, noticing that he wasn't the only one gathered around him. All of the young ones were gathered around him and this brown-haired youth had only been the bravest.

     "Yes young one?" Gav asked kindly, with a smile as warm as the flames crossing his face.

      "Story please Whitebeard," the child said, his voice wavering a bit.

      "Yeah, we want a story Whitebeard," said one of the others, a young man nearly eighteen years of age, near the back.

     "Yes, yes, of course young one and Ash Pile #3," Gavril replied, nodding to each that had spoken up and ignoring the look the young man gave him for calling him 'Ash Pile'. "Now which story should I tell?"

     Gav listened for a moment to the calls throughout the inn for various stories he'd told before and the various questions about his life. All, but those on the outskirts of the inn had turned toward the old man, waiting for a story. He listened for a time longer, until one particular question caught his attention.

     "How did I get here?" Gav said, repeating a question that had come from an eight year old, who had taken a seat with the other children at Gav's feet.

     "Well I walked," he replied with a lopsided grin, which brought a round a laughter form the children. "Well, let's see."

     He pretended to be deep in thought for a moment before a light chuckle escaped from between his lips.

     "Why, I used to be an elf," he told the children, who gasped in surprise, while the adults watched the old man with a knowing look, some even turning back to their previous conversations. "Yes, I was born in a forest very far from here," he said, glancing around as if unsure of how he had gotten to the inn for a moment before pointing in the general direction of south.

     "Yes, that a way," he said, nodding to himself more than anyone else. "I lived up in the trees, in a massive manor house in the trees. When I was younger I'd swing from vines to get from one house to the other and walk across massive floating bridges…"

     Gavril continued to go on, telling his story while in a back corners a group of men sat around a table. They varied in age, from just ten years younger to Gav to nearly nineteen years of age. The group sat quietly, listening to Gav's tale for a while before turning away from the wild story he was telling and back to their own conversations and company. One scoffed as he heard the old man tell about how his hearing had been damaged, when he fell from a tree.

     "That old man's stories get wilder and wilder every time," one said, causing the others to nod, clearly thinking the same thing.

     "He's got new ones every day. Ya know he claimed to have been the god of magic the other day. 'Turned me inta a pile of ash' when I scoffed at him," another said. "If he wasn't so dang crazy I'd take his blasted staff and knock 'im over the head a few times wif it."

     The others laughed with him for a time.

      "Well, where'd he really come from?" the youngest one asked. "I've heard some tales of a crazy old man that thinks he's a mage the last few years, but ain't heard anythin' 'bout his past that seems true."

     "He was born right here in Salsair," said the oldest, who had remained quiet until then. "Up in that old manner house run by the Sallens now, though it used to be the Baird house."

      The others looked at the older man, somewhat shocked, nodding for him to go on. With a reluctant sigh he continued.

     "I wasn't alive until he was 'bout ten years old, but nuffin' interestin' happened to that man until he was 'bout fifteen. His parents sent him off ta that magic school far ta the other side of the lakes and the forest. Nobody's sure of what happened out there, but he was gone for only 'bout half a year before comin' back. Some say he was kicked out of the school, others say he just left, and still others, say that he claimed he left after a magical mishap or somethin', the same mishap that damaged his hearin'. No one is entirely sure what happened because he didn't talk ta anyone before he reached his parent's house and after that no one saw anythin' of him for years.

     "When I was eight my da put me ta work with him, as he worked in the Baird house most of his life. I'd seen Gav enter that day, but hadn't seen him until years after he met with his parents, but the yellin' that echoed throughout the house was horrible that day. I'm sure the neighbors heard somethin' as well.

     "Anyways, when I was 'bout ten or so I was put in charge of bringin' some food down ta the cellar. I asked why, but my da just said there was a cat down there that hunted mice and it needed food, though I was brining down fruit, bread, and a small piece of meat, along with a jug of water and it didn't match up in my ten year old mind. However, I went down to the cellar. I was supposed to carry only a candle, set the food on the bottom step, go back up the stairs and whistle once before shuttin' and lockin' the door back. It seemed odd, but I'd learnt to do things when I was told, though when I got to the stairs I heard mutterin' in the dark. Curious as I was I almost did wut I was supposed ta. I set the food down and moved back up the stairs, though only halfway before whistlin'.

     "When I whistled, a ragged young man came rushin' forward and stopped right before the food, tearin' into it as if he hadn't eaten in weeks. I dropped the candle and ran to the top of the stairs. He kinda just glared at me for a few moments before turnin' his attention to the candle, mutterin' a few things, and then back to the food.

     "I kept bringin' food down to him all those years, though I only saw him every once in a while, but I heard the mutterin' in the darkness. When his parents died, my da opened the cellar and slowly coaxed him out, callin' him by his name, Gavril. I was shocked the first time I'd heard it, but soon realized that I'd known it all along. When he first saw me he called me 'Ash', as he had done the times I'd seen him in the cellar. It later turned into 'Ash Pile #1', though each time I meet him it’s a different number oddly enough."

     The others nodded, knowin' that Gavril had a bit of a habit of 'turning people into ash' in his mind and referring to them as Ash Pile #. Though he could also never keep them straight and we call one person he'd 'turned to ash' #3 one moment and then #5 or somethin' else the next.

     "Anyways, my da helped return him to normal society, though he was different when he was let outta the cellar. My da said he'd gone mad down there in the darkness and it'd rattled his brains. Ever since he came up he's been convinced he's a high level mage. My da contacted his uncle and had him take over the house, while Gav ran around pretendin' he was a mage, takin' an old burned cookbook as a 'spell book' and gettin' one of the local wood workers to make him a staff and took it before it was even finished.

     "After a few years stayin' at the house he wandered off into the world, returnin' from time to time to tell stories and such at this inn. Not much to tell after that," the older one said, finishing his story.

     Another spoke up after a time. "I heard he's been travelin' for years. Stayin' in one place for a bit before movin' on or bein' forced out. Some say he'd spent some time up north with the barbarians before they threatened to burn him. News also says he's been way down south and he even claims to have sailed across the sea."

     "I wouldn't trust wut he says, but he's got enough coin to do so. His cousin takes care of him pretty well as their business is goin' great and the business woulda been Gav's originally."

     "Wut 'bout that strange mouse he talks ta?" asked another.

     The eldest of the group laughed and turned toward him. "Supposedly, Gav's talkin' to a pile of ash all the time. He was here a while back, shortly after he picked up the mouse from the animal owner / trainer down the street. He brought the mouse in here with him and the creature crawled onto the table and started eatin' his cheese off his plate while he was speakin' to someone. So he turned the mouse into a pile of ash and named it Ash oddly enough.

     "Other than his tendency to aggravate people for his somewhat rude behaviour / comments, that’s pretty much it. He says he's been everywhere, but between the stories he adapts as his own and places he's actually be, ya can't really know. Aside from the, there is not much about his past to tell."

      The others nodded, one turning to a barmaid to order another round of drinks. When they arrived the conversation turned to other matters. Back by the fire, Gav still said, one child on his lap as he know told about how a magical Shapeshifting creature turned into a wolf and then turned him into a gnome before turning him into a wolf as well as they grew wings and flew off into the sunset, where they lived happily for years.

Belongings
     - Spell Book: A large, leather-bound book can always be found in Gavril's bag or cradled in his arms wherever he goes. The previously brown leather book is now a scorched black in color on the front, which according to Gav happened due to an errant fireball in his youth. In truth the book is an old cookbook that a clumsy cook had dropped into the flames of the heath at one point. He found in his family's kitchen and due to the few pictures of smoking pots and such he assumes it is his spell book, taken from him from his family. If one listens closely, he can sometimes be heard mumblings stuff such as "put-the-carroots-in-the-water-chop-the-onions-into-small-pieces", or other such random instructions in place of actual incantations.

     - Walking Stick: What looks like a plain, gnarled old staff can be turned into a dangerous weapon in the hands of this crazed old man. For the most part, he has no idea what the heck he is doing, but when in trouble he will start spouting off 'spells' that go off in his mind, though no one else sees or is effected by these imaginary powers. However, Gav is prone to rather outrageous hand gesture when performing his 'spells' which often leads to some injury to any that are near by, friend or foe. The staff is rather unremarkable in itself, but rather just looks like a poorly carved hunk of wood.

     - Spell Components Pouches: As does any good mage, Gavril carries around his spell components. He carries these in medium sizes pouches with drawstrings at the top and a flap that buckles down over the top. To be exact, Gav carries three of these pouches on either side of his belt, with two others stored in his back incase he needs more space.

     The third pouch on the left is always filled with popped grain, which he has to refill constantly. He only closes the pouch so that Ash can't get into it and eat his snack. The middle pouch on that side is filled with sunseeds, which don't have to be refilled as often because he can fit plenty. Like all of his other pouches though, he has to keep them closed because his little rodent (ash pile) has a habit of getting into them and munching on his snacks / spell components. The pouch just to the left of his belt buckle holds a mixture of doch nuts, shelled sunseeds, bit of dried fruit, and any other little snack items he can add to it.

     On the right side he carries larger things. In the first pouch, one can often find small cakes and cookies of different varieties that he will either eat piece by piece or crumble up and throw into people's faces when he is performing a spell. Experience has told him that this pouch isn't very popular, but he always keeps the drawstring somewhat loose, as with the others. The second on the right is slightly bigger than the others as often houses different kinds of fruits and berries. His favorite is the bittersweet fruit, especially since it stays fresh for a while. Though, the drawstrings on this pouch are kept pulled tight and often wrapped in one knot after he accidentally threw a bittersweet fruit at someone instead of a handful of cookie crumbs. In the third pouch on his right side it pretty useless as Ash managed to chew through the drawstring to get to the small lump of cheese Gavril had been keeping in there. Since then he has had to replace the pouch twice, but the little mouse had chewed through the string each time and Gav has given up trying. Now the third pouch has pretty much been transformed into a carrying case for the rodent to ride in when he pleases. Sometimes Gav also uses it as a mini-prison for the mouse / pile of ash when he is tired of it.

     - The Healing Ring of Jamliso: Like every other possession of Gav's, the ring is obviously a fake, though he claims that it is the real healing ring, or rather healing rings. Gav keeps a small wooden box filled with rings of all the same size and appearance. They are made of black iron and grey iron and designed to look similar to the description he once heard about the ring. While the item is no usually on his mind, every once in a while he will spin it around his finger when he has nothing other to do and then explain to any person within range the nature of the ring. Many a thief, young and hold have taken one of these rings from him in the middle of the night, but Gav never realizes they are gone as he pulled one from the box in the morning if he can't find it where he left it. He will even give rings to people who have wanted them for no charge and left them around carelessly. When the box runs down he will take it back to the man who made the rings before and have new ones made for no reason other than the fact that he feels an empty box should be filled.

     - Deck of Four House Playing Cards: Gav never plays for anything other than fun and for the most part, he often has to be reminded of the rules. The deck is kept in the pack and when lacking things to do, he will take it out from time to time to look at the pictures on the front as they interest him. He will also play 'One Man's Lord' with the cards when he has no one else to play with. When others are around to play he will play 'Great House' and 'Full Cottages' along with one to two games he attempts to make up on his own. Most of the time those made up games fail horribly as he forgets the rules or continues to make up rules throughout the duration of the game.

Familiar
     Name: Ash
     Gender: Male
     Age: 7 months
     Species: Mouse
     Breed: Field Mouse

     Length: 18 nailsbreadths
     Weight: 2 muts
     Fur Color: Blackish-grey
     Eye Color: Black

     Physical Appearance: Ash is a rather ordinary field mouse. He has short, soft, ash grey fur, which is ironically, not the reasoning behind his name. At about eighteen nailsbreadth in length, with its tail being almost half of that, this beady-eyed rodent is about average size for its kind. Small claws attached to the end of its arms and legs finish off the creature and cause Gavril no end of little puncture wounds up and down his arms. Aside from that, the rodent has a few spots on his back where the fur doesn't grow in as he got attacked by a cat once and the hair didn't grow back in where the skin was broken.

     Personality/Temperament: Ash is a very mischievous rodent. The first day Gavril got him, the old man turned the mouse into a 'pile of ash' because he stole his food. After that he managed to chew threw the drawstring on Gav's pouch a few times before the old man gave it and turned the pouch into an area for the creature. As that already shows, Ash is very mischievous, overly curious, and always hungry. When the mouse isn't sitting on Gavril's shoulder, listening to the old man talk, he is attempting to break into his 'spell component pouches' for the snacks inside or scurrying off to find something to eat where ever they are.

     History: In Gav's History - Ain't got much on a rodent that’s only lived for 7 months.

[Kalína Dalá'isyrás]

We talked about this, I gave my thumbs up to the overall idea

[Rookie Brownbark]

I still *love* this idea - hilarious!

[Garret Arroway]

Alright, finished with this guy aside from the title. Which I'm still thinkin' on, though I appreciate any suggestions. Thanks yall.

[Fu Luft]

"Deluded Chatterbox"?


Great character, Garret!

[Mannix]

Heya Garret. I'm just gonna have a look through this guy. I probably won't have enough time to finish it now, but I'll be back. Just try and keep me away.

Basic Information
     Name: Gavril 'Whitebeard' Baird
     Gender: Male
     Age: 61
     Race: Human
     Tribe: Centoraurian
     Occupation: Mage / Storyteller
     Title:

     Overview: Level ten mage Gavril Baird, affectionately known as Whitebeard by children, is completely insane, and for the most part harmless. All magical ability Gav claims to possess is the product of his insanity. This old man believes that the so called 'spells' he uses actually make things happen. In his early years he was more 'cautious' in his opinion, though as he hasn’t be arrested and imprisons in that time he enjoys going around 'magic'ing people into ash. Not just ordinary piles of ash, but walking, talking piles of ash that he refers to as 'Ash Pile #'. (Perhaps its is just because of my sleep-deprived brain, but what does ‘Ash Pile # mean. I don’t get it.) On top of that he even turned his pet mouse, Ash, into a pile of ash for eating his cheese, and he constantly talks to the little animal, or the little pile of ash, as the creature appears in his mind.

     Anyone that spends a few moments with this man could tell that he is absolutely out of his mind. He is also pretty much harmless unless he feels he is in danger, at which point he will start flailing his staff around as he recites imaginary incantations, becoming a danger to anyone within range. Aside from that he is rather friendly and good with most children, though his tendency to be somewhat rude can get him in trouble with the occasional hot-head.

Appearance
     Height: 1 ped, 2 fores, 1 palmspan, 3 nailsbreadths, and 3 grains
     Weight: 1 pygge, 3 hebs, 1 hafeb, and 1 od
     Hair Color: Silvery White
     Eye Color: Steel Blue
     Main Hand: Left

     Physical Appearance: Wreathed in a mass of rebellious silvery white hair, two steel blue eyes tell everything that anyone would want to know about this man before he even opens his mouth to speak, but only if they take the time to look. Foremost in the front of all other emotions is a spark of child-like wonder that baffles people as they look upon his clearly aged face, silvery white hair, and frail appearance. Even though he has lived and experienced a good deal in his sixty one years of life, he still looks upon the world with a child-like wonder, as if everything he encounters is new and exciting. Behind that,<~~(Comma maybe?) everything from the excitement of his experiences, joy of the various friends he’s made, to even the pain of a past that is still present deep down within his own memories and those memories, thoughts, stories, and legends that he had claimed as his own.

     Covering most of his head and face is a large, unkempt mane of silvery white. Gav still has a full, thick head of hair that appears to have experienced a distinct lack of brushing and cutting for a good portion of his life. The longest strands fall just past the middle of his back in a mass of slightly wavy hair in which small handfuls are all trying to go in a different direction, giving the elder man a rather eccentric look. Errant strands often break loose of the confines of his wide brimmed hat on a regular basis, mingling with bushy white eyebrows to pretty much cover his forehead. The only patches of skin on his face that can truly be seen are his eyes and nose as his thick beard stops at his cheek bones, exposing a tanned and weathered patch of skin just beneath his eyes and a somewhat crooked nose. The rest of his face is covered with a long, bristly beard that hides his mouth for the most part and falls down to his waist, thinning out as it goes to end in a dignified, if rather rough point. (What colour is his beard?)

     Along with his robe, his long hair and beard successfully manage to hide his thin torso, though long skinny arms, both covered by baggy sleeves, ending in thin wrists and large long-fingered hands give away the fact that his is rather thin, though by the amount of food he consumes, none would ever guess it. However, an obvious lack of physical strength is noticed. This thin torso leads into a narrow waist around which a rope belt containing the pouches he keeps his spell components in, as well as long, thin legs. This gives him a frail appearance, as if a gust of wind just might blow him away, which he will often say, if something he truly wishes for because that would mean he had finally managed to learn how to fly. (Love it! )

     Clothing: Fancy, flamboyant, and absurd are just three words to describe Gavril's choice of clothing. With a pair of plain straight-legged pants and a couple of loose shirts, one long-sleeved and a few short-sleeved, he carts around no less than four robe and hat combinations at a time. While the other three might change from time to time, there is one he always keeps with him and if it wears out he will go out of his way to buy another one from the same shop in New-Santhala. This one is dyed a strange whitish-cream color with random silvery swirls throughout the article, with the hat to match.

     While that is his favorite robe, he wears the other ones as often as he knows that the more he wears it the sooner it will wear out and he will have to travel without it for a while as he heads toward New-Santhala. The robes are pretty much any color he desires at the time. If he tires of a color he will sell it or just discard it and buy another one in a different color, though by the time he finishes talking and bartering with a merchant who realizes he isn't all there, he'd be better off just giving it to some random person.

     All of his robes are long flowing, colorful articles of clothing, usually falling to rest just above the ground, flapping about his feet as he walks. On the helm of the robe he usually has some odd trim and/or embroidery such as swirls, zig-zags, or even creatures, but his silvery-white robe is clean of any decorations. Each of these also has long sleeves with wide openings, which hang down another palmspan at least on the smallest of them. To finish it off, each has a deep hood that he pulls up over his head when it gets windy and he must remove his hat for fear of it flying away.

     His hats are overly dramatic pieces of work as well. Gav wears what he believes to be a traditional witch, wizard, or magic user's hat, which has a wide brim with a cone spouting up from the middle. However, his hats tend to be on the rather flimsy side as the cone in the middle is always bent at a different place and angle each day, and the wide brim has a habit of falling down into his face from time to time.

     To finish off his outfit, he has a few, rope belts, which he uses to tie his robes at the waist with his component pouches slip through the thin cord. These seem oddly plain against his colorful attire, though he finds that he has a habit of misplacing belts and also has an issue with the buckles so he sticks to the rope,<~~(Comma) as he has no problem tying things. From time to time he will also find a dyer in which ever city his is in and try and dye a piece of rope to match his outfit. This whole thing is completed by a pair of scuffed black boots that reach his calves, mostly hidden by his robes.

Personality
     While his eyes appear to look at everything as if it brand new to him, his mind is rather developed, if not a little bit twisted. Gavril seems to have a habit of ‘stealing’ ideas, thoughts, memories, stories, myths and such without meaning too. In his world, everything he hears sticks and after a time seems to turn into a memories so that he believes those are actually his thoughts, ideas, memories and he actually lived through those stories, events, times and met people who lived around the beginning of it all. Once, believing a conversation he overheard in a tavern to be a memory of his own, he told a local woman as some village he knew what it was like to give birth and had three daughters of his own. Needless to say, he was shunned by that particular woman even after the town had spread the word that he wasn’t ‘all there’. (Love it even more!)

     However, while many would consider the mentally ill to be child-like, Gavril functions rather well, if not a little scatterbrained from time to time. People tend to come to that conclusion when one is found in their room, rummaging through their belongs in search of some mysteriously disappearing fruit. Gav is perfectly capable of carrying on a conversation or speaking with someone, though he has a habit of leading into stories and turning the conversation in directions he wants to it to go. He’s somehow managed to turn a discussion on the inn’s apple soup into a story about how he was the main participant in the war of the chosen, fighting on the side of good as a messenger for the gods. At that point, if his madness isn’t already perfectly clear, it’s pretty obvious.

     While he can pass as a functioning member of society his main problem is that he lives in his own little world. In ‘his world’ he’d be a level ten mage that can use magic from all four elements along with life magic, blood magic (though he‘s slightly squeamish when it comes to his own blood so he leaves this magic be), demonology, druidic magic, shadowmancy, and a bit of hedge-witchery. Along with that, his world has subtle differences, namely in the way that anyone he ‘magic’ed to ash now appears as walking, talking ash piles in his mind.

     Finally Gavril is a talker, but he doesn’t know how to reply to certain things. When something comes up that he can’t think of a suitable reply to he will pause for a moment before randomly starting another conversation on a completely different topic. Also, when he gets into story mode, there is little to stop him once he starts a tale and then if given the chance to tell another he’ll take it, over and over until he gets tired, at which point he is usually talking to himself.

Strengths
     - Walking Stick: While Gav will claim that this poorly carved hunk of wood holds magical properties and other such, it's just a plain walking stick. However, when in he believes that he is in danger, he will start rattling off things he believes are spells, with lead to rather wide gestures with his arms. At that point anyone within' rather (within range?) of that staff is in danger of getting hit, no matter if they are friend or foe.

     - Storyteller: Living in his own little world for most of his life had done somewhat more than drive him to insanity, though that in itself has aided him as well. He has a knack for telling wild, outrageous stories that range from completely out there to oddly funny. Once in a while romantic notions and childhood dreams enter the tellings or control the tellings, but those are definitely not his best stories. However, he tends to be a little long winded and even if people don't stick around to listen he will go on talking until he finishes his story or is interrupted.

     - Read / Write: While this isn't something he uses much, Gavril does have the ability to read and write as he was taught as a child. For the most part the only time he uses this is when reading any signs there might be or reading his cookbook / 'spell book'. From time to time is becomes a bit more useful, but for the most part its not a huge part of who he is.

     - Rich: Ah, never really wanting for nothing is the life to lead. Gavril inherited his parent's money and business when they died. His uncle, who had always taken an interest in Gav before he went insane, took over the business after Gavril's parent's death and then passed it on to his son. His cousin still takes care of him when he needs it and offers up a wing on the house when he returns to Salsair for a few days. While Gavril doesn't like the life of luxury, he doesn't lack for food or clothing.

     - Mage Guise/Belief: While he has no magical ability at all he still dresses like a mage, carries around a staff he claims to have magical abilities, carts around a variety of medium sized pouches at his waist for what he claims to be spell components, and acts as if he is a mage. For the most part, this helps in scaring away those that don't really know the difference between a real mage and … Gavril. The fact that be believes he is a mage also helps his image, though it only really holds up for those that don't know any better.

Weaknesses
     - Absolutely Mad: It only takes a few moments of talking with Gavril to figure out that he is completely insane, though in the most harmless way possible. He pretty much lives in his own little world, which is much like the actual world, though in his world he can do magic, turn people into walking, talking piles of ash just because he wants to, and knows various people and was around for events that might have lived (Events don’t live, or is it a figure of speech?) or happened thousands of years ago. He once claimed to have been a key player in the War of the Chosen, and in his mind, he was.

     - Rude: While calling people 'Ash Pile #1' and 'Ash Pile #2' (Oh, I get it now. ) isn't exactly the way to get ahead in life, it’s the only way he knows. In his mind, people that he 'magic'ed into ash are just walking, talking piles of ash with no definable traits so he calls them Ash Pile and adds a number onto the end. As long as they don't move around and switch places on him he can pretty much keep the numbers straight. Other than that he just seems to lack the part of common sense that tells people when something is inappropriate or childish and just blurts those things out. He can't help it and this makes him a bit 'unpopular' from time to time.

     - Slightly Deaf: After an explosion in his youth, when he tried and failed to learn magic, he has had trouble hearing, though now that is often mistaken for being associated with his age. This hearing issue has led to some trouble in the past and will definitely in the future. He always has to ask people to repeat themselves, getting words wrong and ending up ranting about something or saying something rude, or mistaking something for a threat, which usually leads to some kind of injury. Though, he has also taken on the childish habit of pretending he doesn't hear something is he doesn't want to listen or the person he is talking to is being 'mean'.

     - Gullible: If someone told him the sky was orange, there is a good chance Gavril would believe it, and then from that point on, see an orange sky. He pretty much believes most of what people tell him and takes them for the truth. Much of the events he has been part of and people he supposedly knows are part of this as he heard about them and believes that they are actually part of his history. Along with feeding him false information, people have sometimes tricked him out of a few coins or into doing stupid things.

     - Age: Creaking bones, early bed-times, worsening hearing, and occasionally fuzzy vision are signs that should tell Gavril he's getting old, but he never seems to listen. He still believes he's a young teenager once again, however, he has his limits. He doesn't cover as much ground in a day as he used to, he sometimes forgets his trail of thought and sometimes feels like he's forgetting his past, though considering the events some would see it as a blessing, though Gavril sees it as if he was loosing his own identity, which in some opinions is already gone or horribly distorted by his madness. (That’s a bit of a run-on sentence. Maybe it should be split up.) However, age continues to take over him, causing him to slow down even if he doesn't want to.

     - Reality Check: While his little world doesn't melt around him to expose the real world, he does (sometimes?) come to the realization that piles of ash don't and shouldn't talk. These little callings from reality are not very common, but when they occur he is reduced to a muttering ball of flowing robes, or in some cases he had turned to violence and started swinging his walking stick at the piles of ash.


I want this CD! It is definitely one of the best I have ever read. Not just because of the way it is written, which is excellent as always, but the idea is just brilliant. It's right up my street. So yeah, sorry 'bout that little praise-a-thon, but I just had to say it. Anyways, I'll definitely be back to finish this, 'cause I can't wait for his history. And if there is anything wrong with my comments, feel free to disagree with them. I can't stay up 'till 2am like some people.

Mannix


History
     Date of Birth: 17th of Frozen Rivers, Year 1607 a.S.
     City of Birth: Salsair
          Father: Darthorn Baird
          Mother: Tarisa Baird
          Siblings: N/A

     In a crowded inn in Salsair, during the last Festival of the Horse, Gavril sat, huddled in a corner by the fire, silently watching the dancing flames. The sound of children laughing as they weaved through the legs of the inn's customers wasn't lost on him and a faint, kind smile could be seen on his features as he peered into the hearth. It wasn't until a child tugged lightly on a corner of his flowing cloak that he looked away. Gav glanced down at brown-haired child, noticing that he wasn't the only one gathered around him. All of the young ones were gathered around him and this brown-haired youth had only been the bravest.

     "Yes young one?" Gav asked kindly, with a smile as warm as the flames crossing his face.

      "Story please Whitebeard," the child said, his voice wavering a bit.

      "Yeah, we want a story Whitebeard," said one of the others, a young man nearly eighteen years of age, near the back.

     "Yes, yes, of course young one and Ash Pile #3," Gavril replied, nodding to each that had spoken up and ignoring the look the young man gave him for calling him 'Ash Pile'. "Now which story should I tell?"

     Gav listened for a moment to the calls throughout the inn for various stories he'd told before and the various questions about his life. All, but those on the outskirts of the inn had turned toward the old man, waiting for a story. He listened for a time longer, until one particular question caught his attention.

     "How did I get here?" Gav said, repeating a question that had come from an eight year old, who had taken a seat with the other children at Gav's feet.

     "Well I walked," he replied with a lopsided grin, which brought a round a laughter form the children. "Well, let's see."

     He pretended to be deep in thought for a moment before a light chuckle escaped from between his lips.

     "Why, I used to be an elf," he told the children, who gasped in surprise, while the adults watched the old man with a knowing look, some even turning back to their previous conversations. "Yes, I was born in a forest very far from here," he said, glancing around as if unsure of how he had gotten to the inn for a moment before pointing in the general direction of south.

     "Yes, that a way," he said, nodding to himself more than anyone else. "I lived up in the trees, in a massive manor house in the trees. When I was younger I'd swing from vines to get from one house to the other and walk across massive floating bridges…"

     Gavril continued to go on, telling his story while in a back corners a group of men sat around a table. They varied in age, from just ten years younger to Gav to nearly nineteen years of age. The group sat quietly, listening to Gav's tale for a while before turning away from the wild story he was telling and back to their own conversations and company. One scoffed as he heard the old man tell about how his hearing had been damaged, when he fell from a tree.

     "That old man's stories get wilder and wilder every time," one said, causing the others to nod, clearly thinking the same thing.

     "He's got new ones every day. Ya know he claimed to have been the god of magic the other day. 'Turned me inta a pile of ash' when I scoffed at him," another said. "If he wasn't so dang crazy I'd take his blasted staff and knock 'im over the head a few times wif it."

     The others laughed with him for a time.

      "Well, where'd he really come from?" the youngest one asked. "I've heard some tales of a crazy old man that thinks he's a mage the last few years, but ain't heard anythin' 'bout his past that seems true."

     "He was born right here in Salsair," said the oldest, who had remained quiet until then. "Up in that old manner house run by the Sallens now, though it used to be the Baird house."

      The others looked at the older man, somewhat shocked, nodding for him to go on. With a reluctant sigh he continued.

     "I wasn't alive until he was 'bout ten years old, but nuffin' interestin' happened to that man until he was 'bout fifteen. His parents sent him off ta that magic school far ta the other side of the lakes and the forest. Nobody's sure of what happened out there, but he was gone for only 'bout half a year before comin' back. Some say he was kicked out of the school, others say he just left, and still others, say that he claimed he left after a magical mishap or somethin', the same mishap that damaged his hearin'. No one is entirely sure what happened because he didn't talk ta anyone before he reached his parent's house and after that no one saw anythin' of him for years.

     "When I was eight my da put me ta work with him, as he worked in the Baird house most of his life. I'd seen Gav enter that day, but hadn't seen him until years after he met with his parents, but the yellin' that echoed throughout the house was horrible that day. I'm sure the neighbors heard somethin' as well.

     "Anyways, when I was 'bout ten or so I was put in charge of bringin' some food down ta the cellar. I asked why, but my da just said there was a cat down there that hunted mice and it needed food, though I was brining down fruit, bread, and a small piece of meat, along with a jug of water and it didn't match up in my ten year old mind. However, I went down to the cellar. I was supposed to carry only a candle, set the food on the bottom step, go back up the stairs and whistle once before shuttin' and lockin' the door back. It seemed odd, but I'd learnt to do things when I was told, though when I got to the stairs I heard mutterin' in the dark. Curious as I was I almost did wut I was supposed ta. I set the food down and moved back up the stairs, though only halfway before whistlin'.

     "When I whistled, a ragged young man came rushin' forward and stopped right before the food, tearin' into it as if he hadn't eaten in weeks. I dropped the candle and ran to the top of the stairs. He kinda just glared at me for a few moments before turnin' his attention to the candle, mutterin' a few things, and then back to the food.

     "I kept bringin' food down to him all those years, though I only saw him every once in a while, but I heard the mutterin' in the darkness. When his parents died, my da opened the cellar and slowly coaxed him out, callin' him by his name, Gavril. I was shocked the first time I'd heard it, but soon realized that I'd known it all along. When he first saw me he called me 'Ash', as he had done the times I'd seen him in the cellar. It later turned into 'Ash Pile #1', though each time I meet him it’s a different number oddly enough."

     The others nodded, knowin' that Gavril had a bit of a habit of 'turning people into ash' in his mind and referring to them as Ash Pile #. Though he could also never keep them straight and we call one person he'd 'turned to ash' #3 one moment and then #5 or somethin' else the next.

     "Anyways, my da helped return him to normal society, though he was different when he was let outta the cellar. My da said he'd gone mad down there in the darkness and it'd rattled his brains. Ever since he came up he's been convinced he's a high level mage. My da contacted his uncle and had him take over the house, while Gav ran around pretendin' he was a mage, takin' an old burned cookbook as a 'spell book' and gettin' one of the local wood workers to make him a staff and took it before it was even finished.

     "After a few years stayin' at the house he wandered off into the world, returnin' from time to time to tell stories and such at this inn. Not much to tell after that," the older one said, finishing his story.

     Another spoke up after a time. "I heard he's been travelin' for years. Stayin' in one place for a bit before movin' on or bein' forced out. Some say he'd spent some time up north with the barbarians before they threatened to burn him. News also says he's been way down south and he even claims to have sailed across the sea."

     "I wouldn't trust wut he says, but he's got enough coin to do so. His cousin takes care of him pretty well as their business is goin' great and the business woulda been Gav's originally."

     "Wut 'bout that strange mouse he talks ta?" asked another.

     The eldest of the group laughed and turned toward him. "Supposedly, Gav's talkin' to a pile of ash all the time. He was here a while back, shortly after he picked up the mouse from the animal owner / trainer down the street. He brought the mouse in here with him and the creature crawled onto the table and started eatin' his cheese off his plate while he was speakin' to someone. So he turned the mouse into a pile of ash and named it Ash oddly enough.

     "Other than his tendency to aggravate people for his somewhat rude behaviour / comments, that’s pretty much it. He says he's been everywhere, but between the stories he adapts as his own and places he's actually be, ya can't really know. Aside from the, there is not much about his past to tell."

      The others nodded, one turning to a barmaid to order another round of drinks. When they arrived the conversation turned to other matters. Back by the fire, Gav still said, one child on his lap as he know told about how a magical Shapeshifting creature turned into a wolf and then turned him into a gnome before turning him into a wolf as well as they grew wings and flew off into the sunset, where they lived happily for years.

Belongings
     - Spell Book: A large, leather-bound book can always be found in Gavril's bag or cradled in his arms wherever he goes. The previously brown leather book is now a scorched black in color on the front, which according to Gav happened due to an errant fireball in his youth. In truth the book is an old cookbook that a clumsy cook had dropped into the flames of the heath at one point. He found in his family's kitchen and due to the few pictures of smoking pots and such he assumes it is his spell book, taken from him from his family. If one listens closely, he can sometimes be heard mumblings stuff such as "put-the-carroots-in-the-water-chop-the-onions-into-small-pieces", or other such random instructions in place of actual incantations.

     - Walking Stick: What looks like a plain, gnarled old staff can be turned into a dangerous weapon in the hands of this crazed old man. For the most part, he has no idea what the heck he is doing, but when in trouble he will start spouting off 'spells' that go off in his mind, though no one else sees or is effected by these imaginary powers. However, Gav is prone to rather outrageous hand gesture when performing his 'spells' which often leads to some injury to any that are near by, friend or foe. The staff is rather unremarkable in itself, but rather just looks like a poorly carved hunk of wood.

     - Spell Components Pouches: As does any good mage, Gavril carries around his spell components. He carries these in medium sizes pouches with drawstrings at the top and a flap that buckles down over the top. To be exact, Gav carries three of these pouches on either side of his belt, with two others stored in his back incase he needs more space.

     The third pouch on the left is always filled with popped grain, which he has to refill constantly. He only closes the pouch so that Ash can't get into it and eat his snack. The middle pouch on that side is filled with sunseeds, which don't have to be refilled as often because he can fit plenty. Like all of his other pouches though, he has to keep them closed because his little rodent (ash pile) has a habit of getting into them and munching on his snacks / spell components. The pouch just to the left of his belt buckle holds a mixture of doch nuts, shelled sunseeds, bit of dried fruit, and any other little snack items he can add to it.

     On the right side he carries larger things. In the first pouch, one can often find small cakes and cookies of different varieties that he will either eat piece by piece or crumble up and throw into people's faces when he is performing a spell. Experience has told him that this pouch isn't very popular, but he always keeps the drawstring somewhat loose, as with the others. The second on the right is slightly bigger than the others as often houses different kinds of fruits and berries. His favorite is the bittersweet fruit, especially since it stays fresh for a while. Though, the drawstrings on this pouch are kept pulled tight and often wrapped in one knot after he accidentally threw a bittersweet fruit at someone instead of a handful of cookie crumbs. In the third pouch on his right side it pretty useless as Ash managed to chew through the drawstring to get to the small lump of cheese Gavril had been keeping in there. Since then he has had to replace the pouch twice, but the little mouse had chewed through the string each time and Gav has given up trying. Now the third pouch has pretty much been transformed into a carrying case for the rodent to ride in when he pleases. Sometimes Gav also uses it as a mini-prison for the mouse / pile of ash when he is tired of it.

     - The Healing Ring of Jamliso: Like every other possession of Gav's, the ring is obviously a fake, though he claims that it is the real healing ring, or rather healing rings. Gav keeps a small wooden box filled with rings of all the same size and appearance. They are made of black iron and grey iron and designed to look similar to the description he once heard about the ring. While the item is no usually on his mind, every once in a while he will spin it around his finger when he has nothing other to do and then explain to any person within range the nature of the ring. Many a thief, young and hold have taken one of these rings from him in the middle of the night, but Gav never realizes they are gone as he pulled one from the box in the morning if he can't find it where he left it. He will even give rings to people who have wanted them for no charge and left them around carelessly. When the box runs down he will take it back to the man who made the rings before and have new ones made for no reason other than the fact that he feels an empty box should be filled.

     - Deck of Four House Playing Cards: Gav never plays for anything other than fun and for the most part, he often has to be reminded of the rules. The deck is kept in the pack and when lacking things to do, he will take it out from time to time to look at the pictures on the front as they interest him. He will also play 'One Man's Lord' with the cards when he has no one else to play with. When others are around to play he will play 'Great House' and 'Full Cottages' along with one to two games he attempts to make up on his own. Most of the time those made up games fail horribly as he forgets the rules or continues to make up rules throughout the duration of the game.

Familiar
     Name: Ash
     Gender: Male
     Age: 7 months
     Species: Mouse
     Breed: Field Mouse

     Length: 18 nailsbreadths
     Weight: 2 muts
     Fur Color: Blackish-grey
     Eye Color: Black

     Physical Appearance: Ash is a rather ordinary field mouse. He has short, soft, ash grey fur, which is ironically, not the reasoning behind his name. At about eighteen nailsbreadth in length, with its tail being almost half of that, this beady-eyed rodent is about average size for its kind. Small claws attached to the end of its arms and legs finish off the creature and cause Gavril no end of little puncture wounds up and down his arms. Aside from that, the rodent has a few spots on his back where the fur doesn't grow in as he got attacked by a cat once and the hair didn't grow back in where the skin was broken.

     Personality/Temperament: Ash is a very mischievous rodent. The first day Gavril got him, the old man turned the mouse into a 'pile of ash' because he stole his food. After that he managed to chew threw the drawstring on Gav's pouch a few times before the old man gave it and turned the pouch into an area for the creature. As that already shows, Ash is very mischievous, overly curious, and always hungry. When the mouse isn't sitting on Gavril's shoulder, listening to the old man talk, he is attempting to break into his 'spell component pouches' for the snacks inside or scurrying off to find something to eat where ever they are.

     History: In Gav's History - Ain't got much on a rodent that’s only lived for 7 months.

[Garret Arroway]

Thank you for the comments Mannix, I appriciate the help. They are taken care of, though the lack of color is due to a technical error and lack of patince from me to re-do it, though I'll go through this afternoon probably and color the two or three places where I changed more than one word.

Thank you Fu and Thorin for your suggestions. I love Deluded Chatterbox, thank you.

Garret

[Eléyr Fásamár]

Awh garret, what a great character! It was an excellent idea and you sure wrote him well.

~First Approval~

There's your birthday present from me! (Not that you didn't deserve it ) Have fun RPing.

[Azhira Styralias]

Second approval and titled!

Advanced search

[Members]

Members Total Members: 2850 Latest: thediscountcodes Stats Total Posts: 214570 Total Topics: 8053 Online Today: 53 Online Ever: 216 (November 30, 2006, 09:08:03 AM) Users Online Users: 0 Guests: 24 Total: 24

[Artimidor]

	Powered by SMF 1.1.21 | SMF © 2005, Simple Machines TinyPortal v0.9.8 © Bloc
Theme based on Cerberus with Risen adjustments by Bloc and Krelia Modified By Artimidor for The Santharian Dream