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Author Topic: Lucian / Kasumarii / Petty Thief - Assassin  (Read 3763 times)
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Lucian
The Orphan
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Gender: Male
Posts: 46


Human, Kasumarii


« on: March 16, 2009, 08:52:27 PM »

Name: Lucian Mowress

Gender: Male

Age: 18

Date of Birth: 1st day of the Frozen Rivers

Race: Human

Tribe: The Kasumarii (Kar-ii) - The Korenjaans -

Occupation: Petty Thief / Assassin

Title: The Orphan



Overview
To describe this man is simple. He follows orders. It is not that he lacks a mind of his own, but simply finds it less frustrating to follow simple orders which lead to a simple task. Oh, how this young man plots and schemes, but the built up anger and bitterness only fade and wither almost to nothing, as they are replaced with that same ritualistic feeling of sameness that comes with yet another mission. Compared to other assassins now residing in New Santhala, he is no more than a boy who follows rules; he does what he is told, when he is told, and how he is told to do it. The trouble is that Lucian Mowress is not as simple, or as robotic as others might describe. His minor anger toward the comments thrown his way and his silly fantasies of revenge have led Lucian down a path of petty thievery, and any wise man may want to double check his pockets as it seems that the little bugger is quite good at it, too.

Personality
No more than an insignificant piece of a rather large puzzle crafted mostly out of assassins with over twenty years of experience, and the intelligence to match, Lucian finds himself often angered and feeling isolated due to a common misconception. Those holding a higher rank, or those who have greater skill than he, look down on the boy. They make a hobby out of mocking young Lucian, telling him that they have greater strength or greater stealth than he does, only resulting in either bloody noses or throbbing pains that will turn to bruises within the hour. The recipient, however, depends if the participants are in control of their wits (if they are intoxicated or not). Lucian Mowress believes greatly in himself, and has acquired and almost perfected the skills needed to be an assassin of his tribe.

A large ego protects his, sometimes, irrational mind from attacking without a second thought.Lucian thinks too highly of himself to take part in any conflict, not wanting to bring himself down to 'their level'. However, this rarely makes any difference and Lucian involves himself anyway. Rational thinking is not one of his skills, as his emotions tend to take over any form of decision making. He has great belief in himself, and aspires to reach the great lengths reached by other assassins known in his tribe. He strictly follows orders, but will do extra training or try to find his own targets to try and better himself. No one has ever specifically denied the ability to kill on his own, or at least not in those exact words, anyway. He is highly independent, probably due to his being an orphan, and always attempts to solve his problems without assistance before finally admitting defeat. Determination also stops him from thinking idiotically, as he convinces himself that he is “better than those who ridicule him,” which stops him from making bad decisions. Most of the time.

He seizes any opportunity to prove himself worthy of something; a constant need, and something that usually dictates his actions and personality around other people no matter how unnecessary. On most occasions, he will make up some tale about himself to impress women or those he speaks to. It is always a competition for him. A competition against himself, to make himself appear better and more skilled than the last time he shared one of his stories. In some circumstances, his stories are actually true – just twisted slightly to make him sound more muscular or brave or strong or stealthy or rich or…

To anyone not a fellow assassin, he is quite polite. Lucian has studied the language that most nobles use, and speaks quite respectfully. His uncle and aunt spoke this way, and made it one of their main duties to get him to speak correctly. He also spent some time watching and listening in on the conversations in the odd tavern or market place, though he had a difficult time deciphering it, as it was heavily covered by the strong and thick accent of most travellers. Of course, he is not overly courteous, as even he frowns upon undue and extravagant courtesy, but he says enough to gain the trust of passers by, and the occasional second glance of a pretty woman. Such language also leads the naïve kind to linger in his presence for just a moment longer, providing enough time for the scoundrel to dip into their pocket or backpack without them even realising. Another one of the things that has built his ego is definitely his tendency to be very smug, and also arrogant after doing such things.

Appearance
Hair colour: Light brown (Though uncommon for his tribe, he was told of his grandfather bearing dark hair. It was assumed that this was the reason for his difference.)
Eye colour: Green
Skin colour: A light an untanned cream
Height: 1 Ped, 2 Fores, 3 Nailsbreadths
Weight: 1 Pygge, 2 Hebs, 2 Ods

Facial appearance
A mass of scruffy brown hair covers an attractive, oval shaped face. His long brow, though half-covered under a long and straight fringe, supports thick brows above almond-shaped eyes, framed by dark lashes. Medium sized features and thin lips accent his appearance, not looking uneven or out of place. These things, he inherited from his mother as she too had an attractive appearance; the sort that showed that everything belonged and was not too small or too big. His father however, was not so fortunate. Lucian gained the thick and unruly hair from his father, along with long ears and the slight dimple on his left cheek; seen more as an embarrassment than an addition to his “cute” appearance, or so his aunt described. Straight teeth hide perfectly behind his thin lips, and show a dashing smile should he be in the mood to impress. Usually, they are bared in a sign of aggression during a fight. His chin, on the other hand, is lightly out of shape and is very slightly tilted to the left as a result of one too many blows to the jaw.

Physical appearance
Firm muscle wraps tightly around his toned limbs. Strength and endurance are traits which the boy man wishes to maintain, and takes pride in. He is not a thin lad, but the muscle on his arms and legs are clearly not those of a great fighter or a man with strength and power. Long legs reach down from a well-built torso, and faithfully aid him with running and aerobic activity.

His arms have practiced with a sword, clearly shown in the way he holds them by his side; bent and tensed, with his hands clenched as he walks. He believes that a man's ability and power is shown in his stride, and the way he holds himself. Lucian has disciplined himself to stand with squared shoulders, a straight back, and his head held high. If he cannot impress by a small physical appearance, as he is not as gifted with his body as some, then he will display himself as proud and confident, appearing to make up for the loss.

Of what is hidden beneath his vest and underneath his trousers, only a select few will ever catch a glimpse. Through years of training, Lucian has gained more scars and bruises than anyone could possibly hope to count. Only the worst of his scars remain: one streaking across his breast, another down the center of his back, and the last on the inside of his thigh - narrowly missing his appendage as  the blow was made. His skin also bears some bruises, as he does not take kindly to ridicule though he tries to control his behaviour.

Clothing
Though it may be looked over with some question by other assassins, Lucian takes to wearing black clothing that consists of not more than a tight fitting, vest-like shirt, long pants of the same colour, made from wool, and leather gloves. He feels that there is no need to go undetected during the day, and dons a black cloak during the night to walk amongst the shadows.

Reaching almost to his knees, leather boots provide warmth in the colder nights and act as a pocket or 'hiding spot' of sorts for one Nightooth Dagger, wrapped in a thin material to prevent injury when the time calls for him to run. These boots are simply made, but they fulfill their purpose of protecting his blades, and that is all he asks for.

Lucian owns little clothing items, as he feels it only necessary to have no more than three shirts, two pairs of pants, his cloak, a pair of boots annd his gloves. He has no use for any finery, since expensive clothes are always the ones to be ruined first. The only thing he needs is something he is able to fight in. Anything else is of  little worth and no use to him, except for selling to a greedy merchant at an overpriced cost perhaps...

Belongings
Around his waist sits a small bag, attached to his belt at the side. It's contents are...
* Three Seastar throwing stars
* A pocket of various coins
* A small bottle of water
* A thin cutting knife
* Various, small, fruits or vegetables, probably obtained during a wander through a market

He does not carry a bedroll, as this spoiled young boy man desires a warm bed of the nearest tavern. In a larger bag, carried on his back, there are items such as his clean clothes and an assortment of personal hygiene items; such as a comb and shaving blade. Lucian also carries most of his blades on his person, as they are too big to fit into a small bag, or will take too long to find if they are hidden, if he ever needs them.

Weapons
* Nightooth Dagger
Carefully concealed in the leg of his left boot, the Nightooth Dagger is the most subtle weapon that Lucian owns. In his early years of training, he was instructed to use the Nightooth to assist him in being stealthy and quick to act. He uses this blade for most of his kills as it is far easier to slice one’s throat with a small dagger, than trying to do the job with a long sword that attracts attention.

* Throwing Stars
Items of little importance to the boy man, but still fill some of the space in his bag whilst preventing other assassins from asking questions about his weapons – or his lack of weapons. Their only use to him is that they were used in training to build his flawless aim. Mostly, he just uses them for throwing at a dartboard.

* Kasumarii Moonblade
The death of Lucian’s father placed his coveted Moonblade into Lucian’s hands. Lucian’s mentor, Darius, was a great friend of the young man’s father and thought it would be suitable if the sword was in Lucian’s care. It had been handed down through the males in his family for four generations, and it would seem horrible disrespectful to have the legendary blade hang on a wall or sit on a mantelpiece, instead of travelling with the next generation in the family as it was created for. The blade is strapped securely to his back, and is always the first to be reached for in times of conflict.

Fighting style
Much like the Korenjaans, Lucian operates only at night. He prefers to stay hidden as he tends to walk freely during the day, allowing all passers by to see his face. Usually, he follows his target closely until they enter into a shadowed place; like an alleyway or behind a building. Yes, his tactics are very common and are original in no way, but he finds them the most effective.

When undetected he will reach for his Nightooth and tear it across the target's throat, and will draw his sword if a struggle begins. He may use his throwing stars if the target chooses to run, but they do little damage other than causing a few cuts and scrapes.

Strengths / Weaknesses
Strengths

* Nightooth Dagger
Having used this for most of his life, Lucian's strongest skill lies with this blade. To him, it is not about how big a weapon is, but how you use it. Lucian has developed a steady grip and aim, enabling him to use this dagger with efficiency and good effect.

* Throwing Stars
They are of little use or importance, but Lucian was made to train with these little weapons. They can be effective, depending on the strength used to throw them, but Lucian never uses them unless he is told to or if he really needs them. His strength in these weapons is his accuracy and ability to weild them. When he does use them, Lucian is sure to use them to his full advantage.

* Kasumarii Moonblade
Lucian prefers lighter weapons, but hold this sword with pride and stability. This blade adds strength to his ego, probably making him seem more confident than he might be. Lucian knows how to use it so that it is helpful, but it is not his greatest skill. He can make his blows strong and his motions quick and fluid, but knows little about the skills used by most swordsmen.

* Basic Skills
As three of the most important skills necessary for an assassin, or any fighter, Lucian spent hours upon hours improving his aim, stealth, and correcting the childish clumsiness that had followed him into his teenage years. These three skills, he has mastered to perfection, as Darius would instruct him to practice them each day. When Lucian discovered that they were more than just a chore to be done, they eventually turned into a strength of his as he grew tired of hearing that his hand was not steady enough, or that he had missed the centre of a target by a mere nailsbreadth.

* Thievery
Due to boredom, frustration and a smug attitude at times, Lucian began to learn the ways of dipping into people's pockets without being caught. During the beginning, coins, clothing, fruit from someone's orchard and other things of little relevance, but great importance when missing, would often be the targets of his thievery. Whether it be the man dressed in all of his finery, or the woman who looks as if she could do better in life, Lucian will still attempt to take something. After being caught numerous times, he would plan ways in which to distract his target; beginning to think like the well trained, able minded assassin he had become. Of course, killing people does not require a distraction, but there had to be some way to avoid being thrown out of a tavern or to avoid a black eye and aching ribs the next morning. Soon enough, he had discovered ways of acquiring what he wanted and was still saved from discovery. His stealing has never been more than someone's money bag or an expensive-looking jewel, except for the odd horse or furniture item - which he planned to sell when they lost their worth, always in the near future.

* Charming
Lucian Mowress is not always arrogant. He is, on occasion, quite charming and has managed to wrangle in a few targets for theft by simply speaking nicely, courteously, and making sure that he and whoever-it-is-he-is-talking-to has something in common. Though this only adds to his smugness and rather large ego, he finds that he can impress a willing lady or anyone who takes the time to speak to him by weaving a heroic tale about himself.

Weaknesses

* "The Robot"
Lucian was taught to follow orders exactly as they are given to him. He has now learnt that any changes he makes to the original task outline, costs him a kill or will end messily. The outcome of this, is that he rarely acts on impulse. Everything has to be structured, and he is easily confused when he changes his mind on weapons to use or when a superior tells him to simply "teach the target a lesson," instead of killing them, for example.

* Temper
Try as he might, Lucian cannot always hold his anger and frustration inside. Many a time has he been thrown out of a tavern, or been the first to throw a punch after being in an argument for no more than five minutes. He does not have a very glamorous reputation, and most people try to stay as far away from him as possible in fear of his short temper and the blade on his back.

* Age
Lucian is ridiculed mostly for his age. Though he has been training for over ten years, other more experienced fighters and assassins assume that he has little skill compared to them. This may or may not be true, but quite often are his missions transferred to someone of a higher age because he is considered too young for the task. In truth, they are slightly jealous that they boy gets little more attention than they do, and make it their sole purpose to make him lose focus or confidence in himself. Lucian finds it harder and harder to concentrate, as his thoughts keep trailing back to being told that he is likely to make more mistakes due to his "lack of training." Thus, his age is his greatest flaw as the smallest ill-mannered word against it will prevent Lucian from doing his job properly, or actually completing it. Many a time has he failed to kill a target because his thoughts have been wandering elsewhere.

* Monophobia
He might act tough, but Lucian can't stand being alone. When he is completely by himself, he is overcome with fear and nausea, resulting in him vomiting out of worry or curling up into a ball for hours. This also makes him prone to freezing up, and being easily scared - which utterly destroys any hint of pride, strength and leaves him unable to decide apon anything. He keeps his fox Leah close at all times; partly because the little imp likes to run off a lot, but because he needs company at all hours of the day. Being an orphan made him feel rejected by his family, though he still lived with his aunt and uncle. Isolation has become something he deeply fears, and cannot stand the thought of being without even a target nearby.

* Permanent Injury
A hard blow to the left knee during an unfair fistfight caused permanent damage to the joint, making it difficult to run or walk uphill for long amounts of time. The stress begins as a light throbbing in his knee, then a noticeable pain and finally ends in an excruciating grinding sensation that shoots through his entire leg. Lucian can run for miles on flat land, but anything uphill causes him to eventually become stranded for about an hour as he cannot do anything but sit down and wait for the pain to pass.

Familiar
Name: Leigh

Gender: Female

Age: 3

Breed: Fox

Type: Red Fox (Arshir)

Personality: Quite the opposite to Lucian, Leigh is young and hyperactive, probably no more than three or four years of age. She is impatient and has been known to snap at an unfamiliar hand, but is mostly inquisitive and incredibly boisterous. The fox runs more than she walks, and seems to have constant energy - something of a let down for her light footed and quiet master as he tries to avoid running about, or doing anything that will draw attention.

She enjoys the sound of her own voice, or so Lucian thinks, as she tends to bark or yip at the slightest movement or loud sound. She hates silence, and will always fill a room with the sounds of her high pitched voice in one way or another.

Leigh is very lighthearted and cheerful, but she knows when it is time to 'slow down'. When Lucian sleeps, she likes to curl up into his stomach and listen to him breathing. His pulse is comforting to the red fox, and lulls her to sleep.

Appearance:
Fur Colour: Her back is a bright red, tinted with orange. Her chest is the colour of snow, with ash coloured legs that darken as they near her feet.

Eye Colour: Dark brown, almost black

Height: Just over 4 palmspans

Weight: 8 ods

General Appearance: Leigh's fur is rarely kept clean, a result of many escapades through muddy puddles and tall grass. Her white chest has  been the colour of her dark feet more than once, as neither she nor her master was in the mood to throw the fox, with much fuss and struggle, into a bucket of water.

Her fur is quite soft, despite its straw-like appearance. The fur is thickest on her tail, back and chest, thinning as it nears her belly and legs. The fur on her tail is more like a scrubbing brush, tickling and itching the naked hand, and is only soft if the fox allows her master to brush it.

Her long body is very agile and flexible, enabling her to run around corners and in between large obstacles with ease. She is quite thin, most likely due to her young age and constant urge to run as far as her legs, and her master, will allow.

Leigh's appearance shows her young age. Her eyes are bright, and glimmer with her happiness or excitement. Her snout is fairly big on her face, and looks quite menacing when she bares the sharp fangs inside. Usually, her lips curve into what could only be described as a smile. Her ears are in perfect shape and condition, enabling her to have strong hearing. In her youth, her senses are almost perfect and allow her the thrill of being able to explore and investigate without anything to hinder her.

History: The fox had been a present of sorts from a sailor at one of the docks near Lucian's village. The little stowaway had hidden amongst a pile of boxes, and had come bounding out of them as soon as they had made port in Cyhalloi. Quite frankly, he was glad to get rid of the thing. It was so small, so... boysterous. Too much excitement for a sailor to handle. It was a good thing that the boy had come around, and that the rat-sized thing had followed him.

Leigh was born under a warm sun in the province of Vardynn. She had stayed with her mother, father and two brothers at all times, never moving more than 10 Peds away. She might have craved a day spent running along the rolling hills, or across the grassy plains, but she feared being separated from her family. Losing them would... she didn't really know what it would be like, but she knew it would be horrible. More horrible than she had ever imagined.

The cold winds and barren lands had led the family to the city. The bustle and the crowd frightened the young ones, and they fought to stay close to their parents. Hunting had become a problem, as they were often shooed from doorsteps and doused with water as cold as ice when they neared piles of food in the markets. Leigh, however, had lost control of her rumbling stomach and her itching determination. She took a long look at her siblings, and then her parents, and ran into the mass of feet and hooves, trying to find something that looked good enough to eat.

She came across a large crate, smelling sweet enough to make her lick her lips hungrily. She pounced on the box, and yelped as the top fell from underneath her. Startled, she looked around the cramped space, filled mostly with fruit of some sort. She tried to lift herself up, but a sharp pain shot through her body. Suddenly, she felt the crate being lifted, and had to stop trying to claw herself out of the wooden box.

***

When she was finally able to push the crate forward, Leigh landed on the wooden floor with a heavy thud; different types of fruit spilling out around her. Her senses tingled as she looked at her surroundings. She stayed hidden behind the surrounding crates, but stole a peek at the sea of legs and rope across the floor. A large wave splashed against the side of the ship, spraying the young fox with salty water. She jumped in more surprise than fright, and darted out into the open space where, unfortunately, all of the moving feet were.

She suddenly felt her pulse ring in her ears, as she darted in between feet and coils of rope. Before she knew it, she had run into the legs of one of the humans on the ship, who had then bent down to lift her by the scruff of the neck. "What the..." he murmured, eyeing the fox suspiciously. He exhaled rather loudly when he saw the fruit that had spilled to the floor. Thinking better of his thoughts to cast the fox overboard, he tied a thin rope around her neck and attached the other end to one of the wide masts. "Tha' should hold yer," he said, "an don' try anythin funny." With a shake of his head and a half-smile to the rest of the crew, he was gone, wondering how in the world he was ever going to explain how the fox even boarded the ship.

It was still cold when Leigh was finally untied, and the ship had stopped rocking. The fox had had enough of being hit with the spray of the salty sea, and longed to run as far as she could just to get rid of the dampness that covered her body. The rough hands of the sailor picked her up once more, and she was suddenly alarmed to find that she was being carried somewhere. Only moments later was she thrust into the arms of a thin boy, and then dropped to the ground at his feet. She sniffed his shoes tentatively and, after deciding that he was not going to harm her, wound herself around his left leg. Happiness raced through her as he bent down to pat her head softly. She tried to raise her head and lick his fingers, but he only laughed and pulled them away. "I think I'll call you Leigh," he said, stroking her damp fur.

Since that time, Lucian and the young fox have spent most of their time together. Lucian had discovered that he enjoyed the fox's company, and that she had begun to comfort him in times spent away from others. They travelled together to Santhala, Leigh growing nervous and wary during the time spent at sea, and she would accompany him when he walked though the many markets and taverns. He did not mind her habits of sleeping on the furniture, or running around his ankles, and only scolded the fox when she interfered with his work.

Not too long after they reached Santhala, Lucian had decided to let the fox follow him on one of his 'outings'. He figured that, when trained properly, her acute senses could come in handy when trying to track people. Oh, how he was wrong...

They were hiding behind the corner of a wall near the entrance of a dimly lit building. The fox was hopping from foot to foot, looking up at her master with pleading eyes. He bent down to push her behind him, but the fox shot out from behind the corner and ran towards the man standing near the door, a pipe clasped between his fingers.

Leigh barked, and the man turned just as Lucian had come out to get the fox and drag her back to the room he had rented for the night. It was too late to turn back, as the man had seen the dagger in Lucian's hand, and the one strapped to his back. Lucian cursed loudly and retreated back into the shadows, the fox happily skipping behind him. They had spent that night on the harsh ground underneath an abandoned cart. That blasted man had seen Lucian, and had ordered a group of men to find him before dawn.

History
Lucian prefers not to speak about his past, and refuses to converse with anyone who suggests it. His mother passed away just after his birth, and his father soon after. Lucian spent most of his time in the care of his Aunt and Uncle, who raised him from the age of three years old.

Lucian’s father was a strong fighter, and an honest man. He was a proud man, who fought fairly and was always true to himself. He believed in second chances, and would never be the first to strike in any fight or confrontation. He held his head high and his sword at the ready until the very day he died of the Scurfy disease; contracted after returning from a visit to Northern Sarvonia, and his lack of proper nutrition. His pride blinded him from noticing the effect of the disease, and his ego would not let him accept medication for it. Soon enough, the illness had run most of its course, and it was by that time that Ramon knew that he would die. When he passed, he left the young child in the care of his brother and sister-in-law who raised him from that day forward.

Darius, Lucian's uncle, began his nephew's training at the young age of five. Taking his own blood along as a pupil was far easier than recruiting someone he knew nothing of, and was convinced that his nephew would one day show promise. With his father's Moonblade stored at the bottom of a large trunk, Lucian began to follow his uncle's footsteps until he was old enough to wield it.

Birth
Frost covered the windows, and the fierce blizzard raged around the tiny house. Inside, a warm fire burned cheerfully in its grate. The woman on the bed, sweaty and moaning softly, had her knees raised and arms folded tightly across her breasts. The man next to her was grim-faced, and was softly touching a wet cloth to his wife's head whilst the first contraction surged through her body, followed by the second, then the third, and the fourth...

Two women bustled about the room, searching for blankets and re-lighting the candles, cursing as the stubborn male would not leave the room, despite their requests. "A birth was the business of a woman, and a man should never be in the room until the baby has been born." That was the way it had been done for years, and that was the way they wanted it now.

Her grip was deathly, and Ramon struggled to move his hand. He winced at her cries but continued to wipe her face, knowing that it was all he knew how to do; that it was all he could do. His wife's sister hopped nervously from foot to foot on the far side of the room, two towels folded neatly in her open arms. The older woman had positioned herself at the end of the bed, and was holding the woman's knees apart.

The baby was delivered in a symphony of wails and heaving breaths. He was completely silent, and the older woman frowned in concern. She gently pressed two fingers to his chest, with no result. His mother, now panting softly with her eyes closed, had a weak smile on her face, kowing that she could finally rest. Sleep seemed so tempting.

Ramon frowned at the silence of his son, and was immediately at his mother-in-law's side. With more force than the frail woman, he pressed a single finger to the infant's chest, bringing a scream of disapproval and thankful sighs from all around the room, except one. He turned to his wife with the baby in his arms, and smiled as he saw her eyes closed and the corners of her mouth tilting upward in her sleep. He had no idea that it would be the last time he would ever see her eyes open, or the flash of her perfect teeth in the cheeky grin she flashed so often...

...And from then on...
Lucian's father passed during the boy's early childhood. He was placed in the care of his father's most trusted relatives, someone who would build the child into a man in the same way he himself would do. Lucian's uncle, Darius, and his wife Elena welcomed the child with open arms, and swore to their brother that his boy would one day be as great as he ever was. Lucian had only been old enough to stand upon two wobbling legs - he will never remember the first day of spring; the day of which his father took his last breath.

At five years old, Darius saw relentless energy and lack of discipline in his boysterous nephew. However, the child could follow basic instructions and had no fear, so it was decided that he would be trained in the ways of a soldier. He would learn to fight, to wield a sword, and to work with pride. The boy would eventually become a man, but until that day came, he would learn the necessary skills of a Kar-ii, and would follow every damned instruction as he did so.

Darius led the boy to the training yard, which consisted of a barren mass of land with a half-demolished fence around it. He dropped a large backpack to the ground, and bent on one knee to open it. The boy shifted nervously, wondering why his uncle had pulled him away from the puddle he had so happily been jumping in. The man frowned at the boy's lack of concentration, and pulled a blunt dagger from the bag. "Do you know what this is, boy?" He asked as he placed the blade into his nephew's hands. The boy shook his head, and waited to be told what the intimidating object was. He looked so innocent, so fragile, but he would have to know what a knife was sooner or later. "It is called a Nightooth," Darius explained, "You hold it in your hand like this." He showed the intrigued child how to hold the handle tightly in his hand, being sure to warn him about the blade and what it was capable of doing, though no harm would befall him whilst he was careful and under the supervision of his uncle.

Each and every training session was carried out in that yard, for every day of every year. Lucian was demonstrated something new every day, and he was learning that it was better if he payed attention and listened to his uncle. His lack of concentration resulted in him dropping a blade and slicing his hand, or being dropped to the ground in a simple manouver after being too slow to trap an opponent. There were just too many things that could make him feel pain, and those things could be avoided. As Darius had wished, the boy had learned sooner rather than later.

The bond between uncle and nephew had grown strong through Lucian's training. They often fought against each other, and behaved more like brothers than a man being the teacher of a young boy. Lucian learned to follow instructions eventually; as his uncle was too soft to punish him directly, he just let the boy make mistakes and allowed the outcome to appear, regardless of it's effect. They learnt the way each other fought, and the ways they moved in battle. It would help the boy to perfect different skills and to learn not to trust that every fight will be the same. He must learn to act in different ways, as his opponents will be different each time he fights. No one will try to match his ability; he must try to outdo theirs.

Lucian was thirteen when his uncle decided to pull him out of mercenary fighting. Darius had noticed that, on more than one occasion, his nephew was lacking the ability that the other students were gaining. He was too artistic with his moves, and thought too much. His mind slowed him down and his agility only tired him out. Both nephew and uncle had known for a long while that he would lose every fight he competed in whilst he followed this form of training. He was not suited to the task, and they both knew it. Darius, however, reccommended that he try fighting without armour; striking from the shadows and attacking from behind. Lucian would become an assassin, or his years of training were going to be put to waste. Discipline had made him strong, but armed combat had weakened him. Lucian needed stealth and speed if he was going to ever become a fighter, in any sense of the word.

Lucian had accepted the death of his mother and father, but he had never mourned them. He had no memory of his mother, but was told that she died after his birth. His father, however, he remembered, though very vaguely. He remembered being swept up into strong arms and being tossed into the air, always looking down on the bright eyes and cheerful smile of his father. Lucian often wondered who the man was, whose footsteps he was following so devotedly. He felt loneliness, though his uncle was always there for him. Lucian wanted to have some connection with his father, but felt that he never could. His uncle was Ramon's best friend and his brother. It was something that the boy could never have, and he felt shame more than hatred - though he could not explain why.

The winter of his sixteenth birthday found Lucian standing at the docks, his red fox dancing around his ankles. Lucian stared into the tearful eyes of his aunt, and pulled her into a tight embrace. They broke apart, leaving the two men staring at each other; neither wanting to merely shake hands, but not wanting to show too much emotion either. Lucian shook his head and wrapped a strong arm around his uncle's shoulders. No one spoke, though the words of thanks and good-byes sounded in the cold wind. The voices of at least twelve men yelled for the boy to hurry onto the boat. It was not every day that a group of fighters would travel to Santhala, just to have connections on another continent. It seemed rather silly, actually, but Lucian accepted the challenge with an open mind - thinking of the numerous possibilities for work and a bit of fooling around. Of course, he would have to live with his fellow fighters for most of the time, but the day would be all his own, and no one could take that from him. He would have left anyway. Cyhalloi was too isolated. He wanted to visit Santhala, and knew that he would get there sooner or later - even if it was just so the tribe's general could say that he has allies in distant places; ones that he knew personally, anyway.
« Last Edit: April 07, 2009, 04:27:42 PM by Kalína Mërénwèn » Logged

Lucian
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« Reply #1 on: March 18, 2009, 08:25:20 PM »

I have yet to write the history, but might I be able to get an opinion on Lucian's S&W's? I feel he is too overpowered, am I right?
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Kalína Dalá'isyrás
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« Reply #2 on: March 23, 2009, 01:48:32 PM »

Yeah, he is. He doesn't really have anything which puts him at any true disadvantage at this point. It doesn't have to be multiple, but one good solid weakness should do the trick.

Are you still writing his history? Or is it finished?
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« Reply #3 on: March 31, 2009, 07:56:30 PM »

All finished and ready for comments :)
« Last Edit: April 01, 2009, 05:28:19 PM by Lucian » Logged

Valan Nonesuch
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« Reply #4 on: April 03, 2009, 12:29:51 AM »

It occurs that you may wish to downsize that image. It's jumping off the area for posts.
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« Reply #5 on: April 03, 2009, 03:28:24 PM »

Its fine for me, Valan. What's your screen resolution?
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« Reply #6 on: April 03, 2009, 10:45:57 PM »

My comments will be in the color of the forge.

Name: Lucian Mowress

Gender: Male

Age: 18

Date of Birth: 1st day of the Frozen Rivers

Race: Human

Tribe: The Kasumarii (Kar-ii) You need to mention what sect of the Karii he is from.

Occupation: Petty Thief / Assassin

Title: The Orphan




Overview
To describe this man is simple. He follows orders. It is not that he lacks a mind of his own, but simply finds it less frustrating to follow simple orders which lead to a simple task. Oh, how this young man plots and schemes, but the built up anger and bitterness only fade and wither almost to nothing, as they are replaced with that same ritualistic feeling of sameness that comes with yet another mission. Compared to other assassins now residing in New Santhala, he is no more than a boy who follows rules; he does what he is told, when he is told, and how he is told to do it. The trouble is that Lucian Mowress is in(remove this word) not as simple, or as robotic as others might describe. His minor anger toward the comments thrown his way and his silly fantasies of revenge have led him(to avoid overuse of pronouns, perhaps change "him" to "Lucian"?) down a path of petty thievery, and any wise man may want to double check his pockets as it seems that the little bugger is quite good at it, too.


Personality
No more than an insignificant piece of a rather large puzzle crafted mostly out of assassins with over twenty years of experience, and the intelligence to match, Lucian finds himself often angered and feeling isolated due to a common misconception. Those holding a higher rank or those who have greater skill than he, look down on the boy and, in truth, he is merely no more than that. They make a hobby out of mocking young Lucian, telling him that they have greater strength or greater stealth than he, only resulting in either bloody noses or throbbing pains that will turn to bruises within the hour. The recipient, however, depends on the mental state of those involved. Lucian Mowress believes greatly in himself, and has acquired and almost perfected the skills needed to be an assassin of his tribe.

The highlighted passage seems a bit contradictory and too vague for me. First, you state that he is subjected to a common misconception, which I assume refers to older assassins looking down on him because of his youth. But then you state that after all he is really just a boy. This is a contradiction to me, either he is just a boy, or he is a boy with great fighting/assassin skills. Which is it? You seem to be saying that he has more skill than just a mere boy through the rest of the paragraph.

In the rest of the passage, I do not understand the last sentence, about the "mental state of those involved". I have no idea what you mean. Maybe its just me, (I am a bit tired this morning buck ), but a little clarification would be nice.


A large ego protects his, sometimes, irrational mind from attacking mindlessly. (Could you explain this too? Just tell me how exactly his ego keeps him from being a mindless killer. Right now, I don't see sufficient reasons given in the rest of the paragraph.) His belief in himself aspires to reach the great lengths reached by other assassins known in his tribe. He is highly independent, (This seems to also be contradictory. How can he be a robotic order follower, and yet be highly independent at the same time? Decide on one or the other, or clarify how both can go together.) probably due to his being an orphan, and always attempts to solve his problems without assistance before finally admitting defeat. Determination also stops him from thinking idiotically, as he convinces himself that he is “better than those who ridicule him,” which stops him from making bad decisions. Most of the time.

He seizes any opportunity to prove himself worthy of something; a constant need, and something that usually dictates his actions and personality around other people no matter how unnecessary. On most occasions, he will make up some tale about himself to impress women or those he speaks to. It is always a competition for him. A competition against himself, to make himself appear better and more skilled than the last time he shared one of his stories. In some circumstances, his stories are actually true – just twisted slightly to make him sound more muscular or brave or strong or stealthy or rich or…

To anyone not a fellow assassin, he is quite polite. Lucian has studied the language that most nobles use, (I haven't read your history or anything yet, but it might be helpful to state briefly here how and when he studied this refined language.) and speaks quite respectfully. Of course, he is not overly courteous, as even he frowns upon undue and extravagant courtesy, but he says enough to gain the trust of passers by, and the occasional second glance of a pretty woman. Such language also leads the naïve kind to linger in his presence for just a moment longer, providing enough time for the scoundrel to dip into their pocket or backpack without them even realising. Another one of the things that has built his ego is definitely his tendency to be very smug, and also arrogant after doing such things.


Appearance
Hair colour: Light brown (Though uncommon for his tribe, he was told of his grandfather bearing dark hair. It was assumed that this was the reason for his difference.)
Eye colour: Green
Skin colour: A light an untanned cream
Height: 1 Ped, 2 Fores, 3 Nailsbreadths
Weight: 1 Pygge, 2 Hebs, 2 Ods


Facial appearance
A mass of scruffy brown hair covers an attractive, oval shaped face. His long brow, though half-covered under a long and straight fringe, supports thick brows above almond-shaped eyes, framed by dark lashes. Medium sized features and thin lips accent his appearance, not looking uneven or out of place. These things, he inherited from his mother as she too had an attractive appearance; the sort that showed that everything belonged and was not too small or too big. His father however, was not so fortunate. Lucian gained the thick and unruly hair from his father, along with long ears and the slight dimple on his left cheek; seen more as an embarrassment than an addition to his “cute” appearance, or so his aunt described. Straight teeth hide perfectly behind his thin lips, and show a dashing smile should he be in the mood to impress. Usually, they are bared in a sign of aggression during a fight. His chin, on the other hand, is slightly out of shape and is very discreetly(perhaps the word "slightly" would be a better fit than "discreetly"?) tilted to the left as a result of one too many blows to the jaw.


Physical appearance
Firm muscle wraps tightly around his toned limbs. Strength and endurance are traits which the boy man wishes to maintain, and takes pride in. He is not a thin lad, but the muscle on his arms and legs are clearly not those of a great fighter or a man with strength and power. Long legs reach down from a well-built torso, and faithfully aid him with running and aerobic activity.

His arms have practiced with a sword, clearly shown in the way he holds them by his side; bent and tensed, with his hands clenched as he walks. He believes that a man's ability and power is shown in his stride, and the way he holds himself. Lucian has disciplined himself to stand with squared shoulders, a straight back, and his head held high. If he cannot impress by a small physical appearance, as he is not as gifted with his body as some, then he will display himself as proud and confident, appearing to make up for the loss.

Of what is hidden beneath his vest and underneath his trousers, only a select few will ever catch a glimpse. Through years of training, Lucian has gained more scars and bruises than anyone could possibly hope to count. Only the worst of his scars remain: one streaking across his breast, another down the center of his back, and the last on the inside of his thigh - narrowly missing his appendage as  the blow was made. His skin also bears some bruises, as he does not take kindly to ridicule though he tries to control his behaviour.


Clothing
Though it may be looked over with some question by other assassins, Lucian takes to wearing black clothing that consists of not more than a tight fitting, vest-like shirt, long pants of the same colour, made from wool, and leather gloves. He feels that there is no need to go undetected during the day, and dons a black cloak during the night to walk amongst the shadows.

Reaching almost to his knees, leather boots provide warmth in the colder nights and act as a pocket or 'hiding spot' of sorts for one Nightooth Dagger, wrapped in a thin material to prevent injury when the time calls for him to run. These boots are simply made, but they fulfill their purpose of protecting his blades, and that is all he asks for.

Lucian owns little clothing items, as he feels it only necessary to have no more than three shirts, two pairs of pants, his cloak, a pair of boots annd his gloves. He has no use for any finery, since expensive clothes are always the ones to be ruined first. The only thing he needs is something he is able to fight in. Anything else is of  little worth and no use to him, except for selling to a greedy merchant at an overpriced cost perhaps...


Belongings
Around his waist sits a small bag, attached to his belt at the side. It's contents are...
* Three Seastar throwing stars
* A pocket of various coins
* A small bottle of water
* A thin cutting knife
* Various, small, fruits or vegetables, probably obtained during a wander through a market

He does not carry a bedroll, as this spoiled young boy man desires a warm bed of the nearest tavern. In a larger bag, carried on his back, there are items such as his clean clothes and an assortment of personal hygiene items; such as a comb and shaving blade. Lucian also carries most of his blades on his person, as they are too big to fit into a small bag, or will take too long to find if they are hidden, if he ever needs them.


Weapons (Your weapons should be listed as strengths, each weapon being its own strength.)
* Nightooth Dagger
Carefully concealed in the leg of his left boot, the Nightooth Dagger is the most subtle weapon that Lucian owns. In his early years of training, he was instructed to use the Nightooth to assist him in being stealthy and quick to act. He uses this blade for most of his kills as it is far easier to slice one’s throat with a small dagger, than trying to do the job with a long sword that attracts attention.

* Throwing Stars
Items of little importance to the boy man, but still fill some of the space in his bag whilst preventing other assassins from asking questions about his weapons – or his lack of weapons. Their only use to him is that they were used in training to build his flawless aim. Mostly, he just uses them for throwing at a dartboard.

* Kasumarii Moonblade
The death of Lucian’s father placed his coveted Moonblade into Lucian’s hands. Lucian’s mentor, Darius, was a great friend of the young man’s father and thought it would be suitable if the sword was in Lucian’s care. It had been handed down through the males in his family for four generations, and it would seem horrible disrespectful to have the legendary blade hang on a wall or sit on a mantelpiece, instead of travelling with the next generation in the family as it was created for. The blade is strapped securely to his back, and is always the first to be reached for in times of conflict.


Fighting style
Much like the Korenjaans, Lucian operates only at night. He prefers to stay hidden as he tends to walk freely during the day, allowing all passers by to see his face. Usually, he follows his target closely until they enter into a shadowed place; like an alleyway or behind a building. Yes, his tactics are very common and are original in no way, but he finds them the most effective.

When undetected he will reach for his Nightooth and tear it across the target's throat, and will draw his sword if a struggle begins. He may use his throwing stars if the target chooses to run, but they do little damage other than causing a few cuts and scrapes.


Strengths / Weaknesses
Strengths

* Weapons (Again, all weapons should be written in your strengths, each having their own paragraph.)
Lucian Mowress has decent skill with his blades, the Moonblade in particular. Years of training from a tender age of five have taught him that he must strike with strength and power. He knows he must remain with the shadows in order to stalk through the night undetected. His fluid motions and sharp strikes usually inflict damage, though he knows that there is still room for improvement. Still, any sign of the Moonblade draws a hint fear from any opponent, which may sometimes give him the advantage in any fight. Of all of his weapons, this is the one he has the most skill in using.

* Basic Skills
As three of the most important skills necessary for an assassin, or any fighter, Lucian spent hours upon hours improving his aim, stealth, and correcting the childish clumsiness that had followed him into his teenage years. These three skills, he has mastered to perfection, as Darius would instruct him to practice them each day. When Lucian discovered that they were more than just a chore to be done, they eventually turned into a strength of his as he grew tired of hearing that his hand was not steady enough, or that he had missed the centre of a target by a mere nailsbreadth.

* Thievery
Due to boredom, frustration and a smug attitude at times, Lucian began to learn the ways of dipping into people's pockets without being caught. During the beginning, coins, clothing, fruit from someone's orchard and other things of little relevance, but great importance when missing, would often be the targets of his thievery. Whether it be the man dressed in all of his finery, or the woman who looks as if she could do better in life, Lucian will still attempt to take something. After being caught numerous times, he would plan ways in which to distract his target; beginning to think like the well trained, able minded assassin he had become. Of course, killing people does not require a distraction, but there had to be some way to avoid being thrown out of a tavern or to avoid a black eye and aching ribs the next morning. Soon enough, he had discovered ways of acquiring what he wanted and was still saved from discovery. His stealing has never been more than someone's money bag or an expensive-looking jewel, except for the odd horse or furniture item - which he planned to sell when they lost their worth, always in the near future.

* Charming
Lucian Mowress is not always arrogant. He is, on occasion, quite charming and has managed to wrangle in a few targets for theft by simply speaking nicely, courteously, and making sure that he and whoever-it-is-he-is-talking-to has something in common. Though this only adds to his smugness and rather large ego, he finds that he can impress a willing lady or anyone who takes the time to speak to him by weaving a heroic tale about himself.

Weaknesses

* "The Robot"
Lucian was taught to follow orders exactly as they are given to him. He has now learnt that any changes he makes to the original task outline, costs him a kill or will end messily. The outcome of this, is that he rarely acts on impulse. Everything has to be structured, and he is easily confused when he changes his mind on weapons to use or when a superior tells him to simply "teach the target a lesson," instead of killing them, for example.

* Temper
Try as he might, Lucian cannot always hold his anger and frustration inside. Many a time has he been thrown out of a tavern, or been the first to throw a punch after being in an argument for no more than five minutes. He does not have a very glamorous reputation, and most people try to stay as far away from him as possible in fear of his short temper and the blade on his back.

* Age
Lucian is ridiculed mostly for his age. Though he has been training for over ten years, other more experienced fighters and assassins assume that he has little skill compared to them. This may or may not be true, but quite often are his missions transferred to someone of a higher age because he is considered too young for the task. In truth, they are slightly jealous that they boy gets little more attention than they do, and make it their sole purpose to make him lose focus or confidence in himself. Lucian finds it harder and harder to concentrate, as his thoughts keep trailing back to being told that he is likely to make more mistakes due to his "lack of training." Thus, his age is his greatest flaw as the smallest ill-mannered word against it will prevent Lucian from doing his job properly, or actually completing it. Many a time has he failed to kill a target because his thoughts have been wandering elsewhere.

* Monophobia
He might act tough, but Lucian can't stand being alone. When he is completely by himself, he is overcome with fear and nausea, resulting in him vomiting out of worry or curling up into a ball for hours. This also makes him prone to freezing up, and being easily scared - which utterly destroys any hint of pride, strength and leaves him unable to decide apon anything. He keeps his fox Leah close at all times; partly because the little imp likes to run off a lot, but because he needs company at all hours of the day. Being an orphan made him feel rejected by his family, though he still lived with his aunt and uncle. Isolation has become something he deeply fears, and cannot stand the thought of being without even a target nearby.

* Permanent Injury
A hard blow to the left knee during an unfair fistfight caused permanent damage to the joint, making it difficult to run or walk uphill for long amounts of time. The stress begins as a light throbbing in his knee, then a noticeable pain and finally ends in an excruciating grinding sensation that shoots through his entire leg. Lucian can run for miles on flat land, but anything uphill causes him to eventually become stranded for about an hour as he cannot do anything but sit down and wait for the pain to pass.


I am not going to comment on your familiar section, as I am not that good at it. I would suggest sending a message to Garret Arroway, and ask her if she can check out this section. She's the expert on familiars.


History
Lucian prefers not to speak about his past, which probably contributed to the making of his careless attitude. (I do not understand this connection. In my experience, a reticent person does not often make a careless. Perhaps you could explain this more.) His mother passed away just after his birth, and his father soon after. Lucian spent most of his time in the care of his Aunt and Uncle, who raised him from the age of three years old.

Lucian’s father was a strong fighter, and an honest man. He was a proud man, who fought fairly and was always true to himself. He believed in second chances, and would never be the first to strike in any fight or confrontation. He held his head high and his sword at the ready until the very day he died of the Scurfy disease; contracted after returning from a visit to Northern Sarvonia, and his lack of proper nutrition. His pride blinded him from noticing the effect of the disease, and his ego would not let him accept medication for it. Soon enough, the illness had run most of its course, and it was by that time that Ramon knew that he would die. When he passed, he left the young child in the care of his brother and sister-in-law who raised him from that day forward.

Darius, Lucian's uncle, began his nephew's training at the young age of five. Taking his own blood along as a pupil was far easier than recruiting someone he knew nothing of, and was convinced that his nephew would one day show promise. With his father's Moonblade stored at the bottom of a large trunk, Lucian began to follow his uncle's footsteps until he was old enough to wield it.

Birth
Frost covered the windows, and the fierce blizzard raged around the tiny house. Inside, a warm fire burned cheerfully in its grate. The woman on the bed, sweaty and moaning softly, had her knees raised and arms folded tightly across her breasts. The man next to her was grim-faced, and was softly touching a wet cloth to his wife's head whilst the first contraction surged through her body, followed by the second, then the third, and the fourth...

Two women bustled about the room, searching for blankets and re-lighting the candles, cursing as the stubborn male would not leave the room, despite their requests. "A birth was the business of a woman, and a man should never be in the room until the baby has been born." That was the way it had been done for years, and that was the way they wanted it now.

Her grip was deathly, and Ramon struggled to move his hand. He winced at her cries but continued to wipe her face, knowing that it was all he knew how to do; that it was all he could do. His wife's sister hopped nervously from foot to foot on the far side of the room, two towels folded neatly in her open arms. The older woman had positioned herself at the end of the bed, and was holding the woman's knees apart.

The baby was delivered in a symphony of wails and heaving breaths. He was completely silent, and the older woman frowned in concern. She gently pressed two fingers to his chest, with no result. His mother, now panting softly with her eyes closed, had a weak smile on her face, kowing that she could finally rest. Sleep seemed so tempting.

Ramon frowned at the silence of his son, and was immediately at his mother-in-law's side. With more force than the frail woman, he pressed a single finger to the infant's chest, bringing a scream of disapproval and thankful sighs from all around the room, except one. He turned to his wife with the baby in his arms, and smiled as he saw her eyes closed and the corners of her mouth tilting upward in her sleep. He had no idea that it would be the last time he would ever see her eyes open, or the flash of her perfect teeth in the cheeky grin she flashed so often...

...And from then on...
Lucian's father passed during the boy's infancy.(Earlier you said his father passed when he was three. You need to change whichever one is incorrect.) He was placed in the care of his father's most trusted relatives, someone who would build the child into a man in the same way he himself would do. Lucian's uncle, Darius, and his wife Elena welcomed the child with open arms, and swore to their brother that his boy would one day be as great as he ever was. Lucian had only been old enough to stand upon two wobbling legs - he will never remember the first day of spring; the day of which his father took his last breath.

At five years old, Darius saw relentless energy and lack of discipline in his boysterous nephew. However, the child could follow basic instructions and had no fear, so it was decided that he would be trained in the ways of a soldier. He would learn to fight, to wield a sword, and to work with pride. The boy would eventually become a man, but until that day came, he would learn the necessary skills of a Kar-ii, and would follow every damned instruction as he did so.

Darius led the boy to the training yard, which consisted of a barren mass of land with a half-demolished fence around it. He dropped a large backpack to the ground, and bent on one knee to open it. The boy shifted nervously, wondering why his uncle had pulled him away from the puddle he had so happily been jumping in. The man frowned at the boy's lack of concentration, and pulled a blunt dagger from the bag. "Do you know what this is, boy?" He asked as he placed the blade into his nephew's hands. The boy shook his head, and waited to be told what the intimidating object was. He looked so innocent, so fragile, but he would have to know what a knife was sooner or later. "It is called a Nightooth," Darius explained, "You hold it in your hand like this." He showed the intrigued child how to hold the handle tightly in his hand, being sure to warn him about the blade and what it was capable of doing, though no harm would befall him whilst he was careful and under the supervision of his uncle.

Each and every training session was carried out in that yard, for every day of every year. Lucian was demonstrated something new every day, and he was learning that it was better if he payed attention and listened to his uncle. His lack of concentration resulted in him dropping a blade and slicing his hand, or being dropped to the ground in a simple manouver after being too slow to trap an opponent. There were just too many things that could make him feel pain, and those things could be avoided. As Darius had wished, the boy had learned sooner rather than later.

The bond between uncle and nephew had grown strong through Lucian's training. They often fought against each other, and behaved more like brothers than a man being the teacher of a young boy. Lucian learned to follow instructions eventually; as his uncle was too soft to punish him directly, he just let the boy make mistakes and allowed the outcome to appear, regardless of it's effect. They learnt the way each(space here)other fought, and the ways they moved in battle. It would help the boy to perfect different skills and to learn not to trust that every fight will be the same. He must learn to act in different ways, as his opponents will be different each time he fights. No one will try to match his ability; he must try to outdo theirs.

Lucian was thirteen when his uncle decided to pull him out of mercenary fighting. Darius had noticed that, on more than one occasion, his nephew was lacking the ability that the other students were gaining. He was too artistic with his moves, and thought too much. His mind slowed him down and his agility only tired him out. Both nephew and uncle had known for a long while that he would lose every fight he competed in whilst he followed this form of training. He was not suited to the task, and they both knew it. Darius, however, reccommended that he try fighting without armour; striking from the shadows and attacking from behind. Lucian would become an assassin, or his years of training were going to be put to waste. Discipline had made him strong, but armed combat had weakened him. Lucian needed stealth and speed if he was going to ever become a fighter, in any sense of the word.

Lucian had accepted the death of his mother and father, but he had never mourned them. He had no memory of his mother, but was told that she died after his birth. His father, however, he remembered, though very vaguely. He remembered being swept up into strong arms and being tossed into the air, always looking down on the bright eyes and cheerful smile of his father. Lucian often wondered who the man was, whose footsteps he was following so devotedly. He felt loneliness, though his uncle was always there for him. Lucian wanted to have some connection with his father, but felt that he never could. His uncle was Ramon's best friend and his brother. It was something that the boy could never have, and he felt shame more than hatred - though he could not explain why.

The winter of his sixteenth birthday found Lucian standing at the docks, his red fox dancing around his ankles. Lucian stared into the tearful eyes of his aunt, and pulled her into a tight embrace. They broke apart, leaving the two men staring at each other; neither wanting to merely shake hands, but not wanting to show too much emotion either. Lucian shook his head and wrapped a strong arm around his uncle's shoulders. No one spoke, though the words of thanks and good-byes sounded in the cold wind. The voices of at least twelve men yelled for the boy to hurry onto the boat. It was not every day that a group of fighters would travel to Santhala, just to have connections on another continent. It seemed rather silly, actually, but Lucian accepted the challenge with an open mind - thinking of the numerous possibilities for work and a bit of fooling around. Of course, he would have to live with his fellow fighters for most of the time, but the day would be all his own, and no one could take that from him. He would have left anyway. Cyhalloi was too isolated. He wanted to visit Santhala, and knew that he would get there sooner or later - even if it was just so the tribe's general could say that he has allies in distant places; ones that he knew personally, anyway.

Excellent CD, I liked it very much. You are a good writer, have a nice style, and are very detailed. I found very few problems with your CD, mostly just spelling and grammar. I hope my comments were helpful to you, and I hope you get your approval soon. Good luck!
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Lucian
The Orphan
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Human, Kasumarii


« Reply #7 on: April 04, 2009, 09:42:09 AM »

Thankyou Morden, I will get to those things as soon as possible. :)
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Lucian
The Orphan
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Human, Kasumarii


« Reply #8 on: April 05, 2009, 06:50:21 PM »

Alright then, I've fixed what needed fixing so bring on the comments!
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Airyn
The Worrywort
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Elf, Kay'rrhem


« Reply #9 on: April 05, 2009, 07:05:36 PM »

World meet Brandon, er... Lucian, my brother.

Since I helped with everything but the familiar section, I know that's probably cheating  grin, I'll have a look at that.

I'd suggest talking to Garret though, she's the expert  :D

My comments will be in pink.


Name: Leah

Gender: Female

Age: 3

Breed: Fox

Type: Red Fox (Arshir)

Personality: Leah is young and hyperactive, probably no more than three or four years of age. She is impatient and has been known to snap at an unfamiliar hand, but is mostly inquisitive and incredibly boysterous. How can she snap at an unfamiliar hand, yet be mostly curious? I think I might have read that wrong, but could you explain anyway? The fox runs more than she walks, and seems to have constant energy - something of a let down for her light footed and quiet master. How is it a letdown for him? Whatever that is should probably be added to his weaknesses.
She enjoys the sound of her own voice, or so Lucian thinks, as she tends to bark or yip at the slightest movement or loud sound. She hates silence, and will always fill a room with the sounds of her high pitched voice in one way or another.
Leah is very lighthearted and cheerful, but she knows when it is time to 'slow down'. When lucian sleeps, she tends to curl up into his stomach and listen to him breathing. His pulse comforting her, lulling her to sleep.

Appearance:
Fur Colour: Her back is a bright red, tinted with orange. Her chest is the colour of snow, with ash coloured legs that darken as they near her feet.

Eye Colour: Dark brown, almost black

Height: Just over 4 palmspans

Weight: 8 Ods

General Appearance: Leah's red coloured fur billows as she runs, and is quite soft despite it's straw-like appearance. Her long, bushy tail often twitches when she is feeling impatient, and is also incredibly soft.
Her long body is very agile and flexible, enabling her to run around corners and in between large obstacles with ease. She is quite thin, most likely due to her young age and constant urge to run as far as her legs, and her master, will allow.  I don't know if that's just me, but her appearance seems a little short. Might have to ask Garret about that one.

History: The fox had been a present of sorts from a sailor at one of the docks near Lucian's village. The little stowaway had hidden amongst a pile of boxes, and had come bounding out of them as soon as they had made port in Cyhalloi. Quite frankly, he was glad to get rid of the thing. It was so small, so... boysterous. Too much excitement for a sailor to handle. It was a good thing that the boy had come around, and that the rat-sized thing had followed him.

Leigh was born under a warm sun in the province of Vardynn. She had stayed with her mother, father and two brothers at all times, never moving more than 10 Peds away. She might have craved a day spent running along the rolling hills, or across the grassy plains, but she feared being separated from her family. Losing them would... she didn't really know what it would be like, but she knew it would be horrible. More horrible than she had ever imagined.

The cold winds and barren lands had led the family to the city. The bustle and the crowd frightened the young ones, and they fought to stay close to their parents. Hunting had become a problem, as they were often shooed from doorsteps and doused with water as cold as ice when they neared piles of food in the markets. Leigh, however, had lost control of her rumbling stomach and her itching determination. She took a long look at her siblings, and then her parents, and ran into the mass of feet and hooves, trying to find something that looked good enough to eat.

She came across a large crate, smelling sweet enough to make her lick her lips hungrily. She pounced on the box, and yelped as the top fell from underneath her. Startled, she looked around the cramped space, filled mostly with fruit of some sort. She tried to lift herself up, but a sharp pain shot through her body. Suddenly, she felt the crate being lifted, and had to stop trying to claw herself out of the wooden box.

***

When she was finally able to push the crate forward, Leigh landed on the wooden floor with a heavy thud; different types of fruit spilling out around her. Her senses tingled as she looked at her surroundings. She stayed hidden behind the surrounding crates, but stole a peek at the sea of legs and rope across the floor. A large wave splashed against the side of the ship, spraying the young fox with salty water. She jumped in more surprise than fright, and darted out into the open space where, unfortunately, all of the moving feet were.

She suddenly felt her pulse ring in her ears, as she darted in between feet and coils of rope. Before she knew it, she had run into the legs of one of the humans on the ship, who had then bent down to lift her by the scruff of the neck. "What the..." he murmured, eyeing the fox suspiciously. He exhaled rather loudly when he saw the fruit that had spilled to the floor. Thinking better of his thoughts to cast the fox overboard, he tied a thin rope around her neck and attached the other end to one of the wide masts. "Tha' should hold yer," he said, "an don' try anythin funny." With a shake of his head and a half-smile to the rest of the crew, he was gone, wondering how in the world he was ever going to explain how the fox even boarded the ship.

It was still cold when Leigh was finally untied, and the ship had stopped rocking. The fox had had enough of being hit with the spray of the salty sea, and longed to run as far as she could just to get rid of the dampness that covered her body. The rough hands of the sailor picked her up once more, and she was suddenly alarmed to find that she was being carried somewhere. Only moments later was she thrust into the arms of a thin boy, and then dropped to the ground at his feet. She sniffed his shoes tentatively and, after deciding that he was not going to harm her, wound herself around his left leg. Happiness raced through her as he bent down to pat her head softly. She tried to raise her head and lick his fingers, but he only laughed and pulled them away. "I think I'll call you Leigh," he said, stroking her damp fur.

Could you add some detail of things they have done togther after meeting? It has been a few years since they met, I think that's what you said, and they would have to have done something together since then.

Okay, that's it, though someone more experienced might have some more for you. Good luck on the approval process.
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Kalína Dalá'isyrás
Dalá'isyrás
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High Elf, Kaýrrhem


« Reply #10 on: April 06, 2009, 04:10:39 AM »

Things look in place for me. Let me know when you are done integrating comments and I will be back :D for a likely approval!
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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
Garret Arroway
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Human, Kyranian


« Reply #11 on: April 06, 2009, 04:50:08 AM »

Just thought I'd drop by and give my imput on the familiar section as I seem to have been referenced twice :). Right now it looks good and there wasn't much for me to comment on. I pulled out a couple nit-picky things: spaces, spellin' that Word picked up, and the like.

As to Airyn's comment, I agree on the points she made, though I understand what ya meant here ...

     "The fox runs more than she walks, and seems to have constant energy -
       something of a let down for her light footed and quiet master."

Just notin' on the face that the fox is quite different when it comes to energry level and can be quite of a handful? Just a point, if that's right, it might be considered a minor weakness, though on the other side, if this creature helps your character in any way, it is considered a strength.

Anyways, I'll get onto the section and things I marked. For the spellin', if I'm wrong than leave it be, Microsoft Word just picked it up so I thought I'll mark it.

Familiar
Name: Leah

Gender: Female

Age: 3

Breed: Fox

Type: Red Fox (Arshir)

Personality: Leah is young and hyperactive, probably no more than three or four years of age. She is impatient and has been known to snap at an unfamiliar hand, but is mostly inquisitive and incredibly boysterous (boisterous). The fox runs more than she walks, and seems to have constant energy - something of a let down for her light footed and quiet master.
(Space)
She enjoys the sound of her own voice, or so Lucian thinks, as she tends to bark or yip at the slightest movement or loud sound. She hates silence, and will always fill a room with the sounds of her high pitched voice in one way or another.
(Space)
Leah is very lighthearted and cheerful, but she knows when it is time to 'slow down'. When lucian (Lucian) sleeps, she tends to curl up into his stomach and listen to him breathing. His pulse comforting her, lulling her to sleep. (Try "His pulse is comforting to the red fox and lulls her to sleep." Or somethin' to that effect, cause at the moment the wordin' sounds off in my opinion.)

Appearance:
Fur Colour: Her back is a bright red, tinted with orange. Her chest is the colour of snow, with ash coloured legs that darken as they near her feet.

Eye Colour: Dark brown, almost black

Height: Just over 4 palmspans

Weight: 8 Ods (ods)

General Appearance: Leah's red coloured fur billows as she runs, and is quite soft despite it's (its) straw-like appearance. Her long, bushy tail often twitches when she is feeling impatient, and is also incredibly soft.
(Space)
Her long body is very agile and flexible, enabling her to run around corners and in between large obstacles with ease. She is quite thin, most likely due to her young age and constant urge to run as far as her legs, and her master, will allow.

(Not necessarily needed, but re-stating the information in the list sections (fur color, eye color, height, and weight) and expanding on those things adds more to the general appearance. Allows the list sections to be used as a reference and the more detailed part of it to expand on those basic things and help bring the creature to life.)

History: The fox had been a present of sorts from a sailor at one of the docks near Lucian's village. The little stowaway had hidden amongst a pile of boxes, and had come bounding out of them as soon as they had made port in Cyhalloi. Quite frankly, he was glad to get rid of the thing. It was so small, so... boysterous (boisterous). Too much excitement for a sailor to handle. It was a good thing that the boy had come around, and that the rat-sized thing had followed him.

Leigh was born under a warm sun in the province of Vardynn. She had stayed with her mother, father and two brothers at all times, never moving more than 10 Peds (peds) away. She might have craved a day spent running along the rolling hills, or across the grassy plains, but she feared being separated from her family. Losing them would... she didn't really know what it would be like, but she knew it would be horrible. More horrible than she had ever imagined.
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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
Lucian
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Posts: 46


Human, Kasumarii


« Reply #12 on: April 06, 2009, 12:41:02 PM »

All done, thanks Garret and Airyn.

All set Kalina  :D
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Azhira Styralias
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Half-elf, Aellenrhim/ Erpheronian


« Reply #13 on: April 06, 2009, 11:17:02 PM »

This looks good. Much hard work went into this CD and it shows.

~First Approval!~ Nod

Azzy
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Kalína Dalá'isyrás
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High Elf, Kaýrrhem


« Reply #14 on: April 06, 2009, 11:42:03 PM »

Go ahead and clean out the color! Once done, I will title and archive ya :D
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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
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