Tasuli Rose

[Tasuli Rose]

Name: Tasuli Rose
Gender: Male
Age: 27 (appears 20)
Race: Half-elf
Tribes: Erpheronian/Ylfferhim
Occupation: Noble
Title: Duke of Chylikis

Height: One ped, two fores, and two palmspans
Weight: One pygge and three hebs
Eye color: Black
Hair color: Nor’sidian



Overview: Born to the Duke and Duchess of Chylikis, Tasuli is not truly of their union. Suspected yet unbeknownst to his would be human father, the half-elf is the result of his mother’s long term affair with an elf of the court, finding love in his arms as she had never in the cold embrace of her husband. Tasuli himself is unaware of his heritage.

Appearance: Flowing freely, stirred by even the slightest of breezes, nor’sidian hair cascades to his waist, black as darkest night. Openly defiant, his locks resist the efforts of comb and brush alike, inevitably styled by the wind alone. Long strands frame his face, his bangs falling to obscure dark eyes. A myriad of emotions lurk within such eyes, each chaotic and conflicting. Often will his eyes be alight with rage, an undeniable fury that consumes all else, Yet his eyes will also soften, welling up with tears, overwhelmed by self-pity. If any emotion could be said to remain constant within his black eyes, it would be confusion. Long lashes frame his eyes, gracing them with an unearthly beauty. An aquiline nose extends from his face with only the slightest of curves, regal in appearance yet marred by a pale scar that ascends diagonally from one cheek to his forehead. Pallid, thin lips curl into the cruelest of smiles, fueled by the misfortunes of others. High cheekbones bestow an exotic beauty upon his face as his cheeks remain forever smooth. Pointed ears reveal his half-elven heritage, all but the points hidden within his dark, thick hair.

Pallid skin, of palest complexion, stretches over a nearly skeletal frame. Only the leanest of muscles bulge, if they could be said to bulge, beneath his skin along every limb. Toned and lean, his body seems devoid of fat, not even his flat stomach shows any hint of it. His fair skin burns with the light of the sun and is often freckled along the bridge of his nose. Possessing a lithe figure, his slender shoulders become an equally slim chest, narrowing along his torso into a trim waist before ending in shapely legs.

Clothing: Born to nobility, his manner of dress is fashionable according to the latest styles of the courts and tends to imitate that of other cultures, though no well-born Erpheronian would ever say so. A nor’sidian leather coat drapes over his slender shoulders, its tail falling midway down his thighs. Extending from the coat, a wide collar flares out to either side, more prominent about his neck. As the collar descends to the tail end of the coat, it becomes more slender, gradually becoming nonexistent. Beneath the coat he wears silk shirts of dark and muted colors, most commonly a deep karikrimson as he expresses some fondness for the color of blood. The collars of his shirts descend in almost a v-neck , offering just a glimpse of his toned chest. Black gloves are worn over his slender, grasping fingers, the edges of the gloves turned down and tucked into the cuffs of the coat’s sleeves. Over his hips and legs he wears black, leather pants, similar to the coat in hue and secured by a leather belt, clasped with a silver buckle. They hug his hips and legs, revealing the curve of his bum and the taut muscles of his legs. Black boots, crafted of leather, ascend to his ankles, the tops turned down as the pants tuck into them.

Personality: Emotions are the noble’s bane. They haunt him incessantly, influencing his every word and deed. He has no control over them and knows not what actions will trigger which emotions. His mood swings are rapid and without reason, shifting at any given moment. Always to the extreme, his moods utterly consume his mind. Rage will blaze within him at the slightest offense, real or merely perceived, as he yells at those that dare to anger him, even going so far as to strike them. Emboldened by anger, it is often then that his lust makes itself known as he attempts to take what maidens will not freely give. Fear is foreign to him as anger grips his mind, entirely burned away. Yet it can return in full force in the next instant, overwhelming all thought as he seeks only to flee. His mind is little more than that of a child while overcome with fear. Surprisingly for one with such fear, Tasuli is sadistic in his cruelty, delighting in the misfortunes of others. His pleasure in their pain is all the sweeter should he be the one to inflict it upon them. But yet again, there are times when he is the most noblest of men, chivalric as he rushes to the aid of others.

Self-loathing consumes him, accompanied by self-pity. He is a miserable and piteous creature and knows it well. Often he will want only to end his life and end the misery. It is then that guilt afflicts even one so cruel, guilt over the death of the man he believed to be his father and the misfortunes he has inflicted upon others in his madness. He appears almost sane as he bemoans his fate, aware perhaps only then of all his misdeeds. Otherwise, he exudes a childlike innocence, for the most part unaware of his acts of cruelty as his memory is naught but a blur, overcome by one emotion after the other in an unceasing cycle.

Strengths:

• With a long sword he possesses more than intermediate skill, as he is well versed in the various thrusts and parries after training under a master.
• Swift and agile, he can avoid all but the fastest of foes, carried away from violence by his quick feet.
• Considerable wealth ensures that he is rarely without comfortable lodging, and he knows that tongues are often loosened with a few sans.

Weaknesses:

• His constant mood swings hold him aloof from others, as he can never be truly close to anyone until he knows himself. And it is not rare for him to offend others with his lack of respect and manners.
• With rage comes foolishness as the young noble acts without thinking, often angering those capable of granting him death.
• In an actual fight he lacks experience and fears the day that he will be forced to confront someone intent upon killing him. It is not rare for him to avoid physical confrontations, and he is known as a coward by those unfortunate enough to have met him.

History: Tasuli stood with a sneer upon his face as he gazed into the crowd. His disdain of such peasants was evident in his voice as he spoke. "So, you wish to know more about my royal person? Your ears are not worthy of such a tale, yet I will amuse myself by revealing my innermost secrets to those that matter not."

I was born in Chylikis to the Duke and Duchess of that fair city. My mother was ecstatic to have a son, and most of our subjects assumed that my father would be glad to have an heir to carry on the family name. Yet he always viewed me with the same cold expression as though I were a stranger in my own home. I knew not what could bring about such a cold hatred, and the early years of my youth were spent attempting to earn his love and respect. I trained with a sword master so that I would be skilled with a blade and grow up to be a skilled swordsman, knowing that this would please my father. However, my success with a sword only seemed to anger him, but even so, I persisted. I was determined to become an excellent swordsman that every man within the duchy would respect, yet it was only the esteem of my father that truly mattered. The love of my mother had been earned at my very birth, and it was to her that I turned whenever one of my father's cold remarks cut to the core of who I was. She was a delicate flower that seemed to wither in the presence of my father, as if his aura was one of a wintery death. At the age of twelve, I began to suspect that the distance between my father and I was the true cause of the lack of love in my parents' relationship, and this revelation caused me to double my efforts in my attempts to earn his respect. It wasn't easy, but I soon convinced him to allow me to accompany him on his hunts as I knew that hunting was his true passion.

It was during my twenty second year of life, finally a man though I appeared to be a boy of sixteen or seventeen years, that he finally allowed me to wield a bow. He refused to have a bow crafted for me, saying that I would only shoot myself if I wielded it without his supervision. Even so, I was delighted with the bow that he allowed me to borrow during our hunts, though I never had any skill with its use. Our hunts were successful and for once I believed that my father truly cared for me, yet such joy was destined to end. On one such hunt, we separated as we sometimes did, and it was not long before I heard a rustling in some nearby bushes. I knew that my father and I were the only people in the woods and that he was at least a dash from where I stood, so I did not hesitate when I fired at the bush. It was only a moment before I heard the dying scream of my target, and I eagerly rushed forward. The sight of my father bleeding to death with an arrow through his throat haunts me to this very day, and I bent down to attempt to help him yet his spirit had already fled his body. My tears mingled with his blood as I mourned his death, and I lifted his corpse onto my shoulders as I began the long trek home. The servants stared at my burden as I entered the castle, but their opinions did not concern me. Only the words of my mother mattered, and it was her counsel that I sought. She gasped as I laid my father's corpse at her feet and explained the circumstances of his death, yet she seemed to be more concerned with my well being than she was the death of my father. It was with her grace that she attempted to convince me of my innocence, yet her words were not enough to banish the guilt that consumed my soul. I begged her to punish me for the murder of my father, for surely I did not deserve to live after committing such a sin.

Her concern for me was greater than my desire to die, and I soon returned to the normal rigors of everyday life with her watching over me. I refused to attend the funeral as I knew I did not deserve to look upon the man that had died by my hand. It was not long before the servants and subjects began to call me Duke, and I became accustomed to the role. My moods would constantly shift as it seemed that life could not truly interest me, and I had to amuse myself by being cruel to those below me. Yet, despite the rage that sometimes burned within me, I found that I could be equally kind to my subjects. My decisions were always based upon which mood I was in and had nothing to do with logic or sense. I have ruled the duchy of Chylikis for the past five years, though I suspect that I will be forgotten once I pass from this world.

Weapon: Upon his hip he wears a long sword in a karikrimson scabbard, its hilt forged of silver and inset with a ruby beneath the guard. A strip of black leather wraps around the hilt to allow for a better grip. When drawn forth from its sheath, the blade proves to be wickedly sharp, forged of steel, its edge maintained by a whetstone.

Belongings:

• a silver comb
• several vials of bath oils
• ink and parchment
• a whetstone
• flint and tinder
• a coin purse filled to the brim

[Takashi Logan]

Name: Tasul'i Rose
Gender: Male
Age: 21 (appears 16) Have you used the Elven age calculator it can be found in the restrictions thread at the top of this forum.
Race: Half-elf
Tribes: Erpheronian/Ylfferhim
Height: 1.9 peds
Weight: 1.5 pygges
Title:

Appearance: Fiery locks descend to the shoulders of the young Duke a duke is not possible, neither is anything else unless you are the son of a lord or something similar. See the restrictions thread at the top, and his karikrimson hair seems to glow in the sunlight. His thin lips often curl in a cruel smile as he preys on the misfortune of others. A faint aroma of roses emanates from his skin as he has a servant bathe him with oils everyday. His emerald eyes rarely betray the emotions that churn within his disturbed mind, appearing cold and aloof to any that meet him. Only his rage penetrates his icy demeanor, and one could wonder as to why a youth would have such anger within him. His ears are slightly pointed, and they reveal his elven heritage at only a glance.

Lean muscles coil around each limb as the Duke is more than a pampered youth. It seems as though the light of the sun has not touched his fair skin for years, and he is as pale as his elven father. Hardly a mut of fat exists upon his toned body, and it is evident that gluttony is not among his sins.

Clothing: As a noble, his manner of dress tends to imitate that of other cultures, though he would never admit that the design of his clothes was not original. An uderzan blue tunic descends to his knees and is gathered at the waist with a wide leather belt. Silver dragons are stitched into the sleeves of his tunic with their heads at the end of each sleeve and their tails intertwining along the back of his shoulders. A white silk shirt is worn beneath the tunic, and its sleeves are tucked into his black gloves. His slender legs are covered by black leather pants, though only the legs of the pants are visible since his tunic conceals his waist. The pants tuck into black leather boots that descend slightly beyond his ankles, and the boots shine as they are polished each night by a servant. Both the edges of the boots and gloves are folded down to make them appear more fashionable.

Personality: Tasul'i has a personality that often makes his behavior difficult to predict. He may behave exactly as you would expect a pampered noble to act, then again he could surprise his companions by a display of compassion toward his fellow man. His rapid mood swings cause a torrent of emotions within him, and any given emotion may be expressed at any given moment without there being any apparent reason for him to feel as he does. His rage may consume every fiber of his being, yet in the next moment he could be laughing as though anger were an emotion that was foreign to his mind.

A certain amount of guilt lurks in the dark recesses of his mind as he believes that he killed his father. The death occurred as a result of a hunting accident, yet the youth blamed himself for the stray arrow that ended the life of the man he knew as his father. His true father is an elf that his mother loves dearly though she would never reveal their secret romance for fear of upsetting her son.

Weapon: His only weapon is a long sword that he wears at his side as it is sheathed in an uderzan blue scabbard whenever he is not fighting. Its hilt is made of pure silver and is topped with a large sapphire, making the Duke tempting bait for bandits whenever he is not surrounded by guards. The sword may appear to be mere decoration, but Tasul'i trained for years in its use. He maintains its edge in case he should ever need to defend himself in armed combat.

History: Tasul'i stood with a sneer upon his face as he gazed into the crowd. His disdain of such peasants was evident in his voice as he spoke. "So, you wish to know more about my royal person? Your ears are not worthy of such a tale, yet I will indulge my curiosity by revealing my innermost secrets to those that matter not."

I was born in Chylikis to the Duke and Duchess of that fair city. My mother was ecstatic to have a son, and most of our subjects assumed that my father would be glad to have an heir to carry on the family name. Yet he always viewed me with the same cold expression as if I were a stranger in my own home. I knew not what could cause such cold hatred, and the early years of my youth was spent attempting to win his love. I trained with a sword master so that I would be skilled with a blade and grow up to be a great warrior, knowing that this should please my father. However, my success with a sword only seemed to anger him, yet I persisted. I was determined to become an excellent swordsman that every man within the duchy would respect though it was only the esteem of my father that truly mattered. The love of my mother had been earned at my very birth, and it was she that I turned to whenever one of my father's cold remarks cut to the essence of whom I was. She was a delicate flower that seemed to wither in the presence of my father, as if his aura was one of winter. At the age of twelve, I began to suspect that the distance between my father and I was the true cause of the lack of love in my parents' relationship, and this revelation caused me to double my efforts in my attempts to earn his respect. It wasn't easy, but I soon convinced him to allow me to accompany him on his hunts as I knew that hunting was his true passion.

It was during my sixteenth year of life that he finally allowed me to wield a bow. He refused to have a bow crafted for me, saying that I would only shoot myself if I wielded it without his supervision. Even so, I was delighted with the bow that he allowed me to borrow during our hunts, though I never had any skill with its use. Our hunts were successful and for once I believed that my father truly cared for me, yet such joy was destined to end. On one such hunt, we separated as we sometimes did, and it was not long before I heard a rustling in some nearby bushes. I knew that my father and I were the only people in the woods and that he was at least a dash from where I stood, so I did not hesitate when I fired at the bush. It was only a moment before I heard the dying scream of my target, and I eagerly rushed forward. The sight of my father bleeding to death with an arrow through his throat haunts me to this very day, and I bent down to attempt to help him yet his spirit had already fled his body. My tears mingled with his blood as I mourned his death, and I lifted his corpse onto my shoulders as I began the long trek home. The servants stared at my burden as I entered the castle, but their opinions did not concern me. Only the words of my mother mattered, and it was her counsel that I sought. She gasped as I laid my father's corpse at her feet and explained the circumstances of his death, yet she seemed to be more concerned with my well being than she was the death of my father. It was with her grace that she attempted to convince me of my innocence, yet her words were not enough to banish the guilt that consumed my soul. I begged her to punish me for the murder of my father, for surely I did not deserve to live after committing such a sin.

Her concern for me was greater than my desire to die, and I soon returned to the normal rigors of everday life with her watching over me. I refused to attend the funeral as I knew that I did not deserve to look upon the man that had died by my hand. It was not long that the servants and subjects began to call me Duke, and I became accustomed to the role. My moods would constantly shift as it seemed that life could not truly interest me, and I had to amuse myself by being cruel to those below me. Yet, despite the rage that sometimes burned within me, I found that I could be equally kind to my subjects. My decisions were always based upon which mood I was in and had nothing to do with logic or sense. I have ruled the duchy of Chylikis for the past five years, though I suspect that I will be forgotten once I pass from this world.

Strengths:
- He is skilled in the use of his sword.
- He is swift and agile.

Weaknesses:
- His constant mood swings ensure that he can never be close to anyone, and he often offends those that are willing to aid him.
- He has absolutely no experience in an actual fight and fears the day that he will be forced to confront someone intent upon killing him. It is not rare for him to avoid physical confrontations, and he is known as a coward by those unfortunate enough to have met him.
- He absolutely refuses to wear any armor, as he is not willing to marr his fine clothes by wearing armor over them.

Belongings:
- a silver comb
- several vials of bath oils
- ink and parchment
- a whetstone
- flint and tinder

An interesting character...the history is a bit odd. However it is not possible for your character to be a duke. As well, you will need a title.

In death there is life, I bring death, to those who are deseving of it...

[Erián'melór]

Taka, commenting on CDs is appreciated, but it was not necessary for you to do an uri-check when you only had three comments. Anyway, I shall answer your questions in the order they were asked.

1. Yes, I have used the EAC, and his age is correct. A half elf does not need to be as aged as an elf would have to be in order to possess his skills.

2. I have permission from an admin (Kalina) to create a duke since this char is created solely for Twilight and will never be played in any other stories.

3. Of course, I know that I need a title. It will be included in the CD once I come up with one. However, the lack of a title should not prevent the admins and Marvin from commenting.

The sun falls from the evening sky,
this life I cannot abide.
The eternal night draws nigh,
I seek the loving embrace of my lost bride.

[Pikel Thunderstone]

Pikel's Uri check = LIME......cept he not doing one....too little to say.

First: It does my gnomish heart good to see someone else use the Santharian colors. Few are the people who do, and thus, they are not well known. You should probably put up reference colors next to them, so people know what you're talking about. EX: Karikrimson (red). Of course this won't be needed for Uderza Blue. (methinks I should incorporate these into druidic orders.....:d)

Second: Minor grammar errors here and there, the only one that jumped out at me was a miswording in the italics of your history (YOUR curiousity....not MY curiousity)

Third: I would like to see the strengths and Weaknesses elaborated on. I never like seeing lists of strengths and weaknesses, with showing no reasons as to why it's a S or W, or how it got there. But you don't have to....seeing as how you're the mod and I am not.

Fourth: GO TWILIGHT!!

What? Why must we speak of my profession? Come, let us have a drink. - Pikel

Pikel

Edited by: Pikel Thunderstone at: 10/29/05 19:37

[Marvin Cerambit]

*looks up*
Did I hear my name

I would add something about your nobleness. Wealth and/or influence are a strenght.

Quote:- He absolutely refuses to wear any armor, as he is not willing to marr his fine clothes by wearing armor over them.

This is not really a weakness.

Marving Cerambit ~ Do not tease my Warg, because you are crunchy and tasteful
Need help with your new Character?
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[Takashi Logan]

1. I didnt know it was you erian.
2. I was going to come back and improve on my uri check, as i was forced to end it early due to the whole "I have a life" Deal.

[Luca the Thief]

Alrighty then. Given Kali's permission to have a duke character, and given that this is for Twilight only, my approval.

Contact me: faye_004@yahoo.ca or all us admins: rpg@santharia.com

[Erián'melór]

I've elaborated upon his S&W, giving better explanations. Marvin, I disagree about that not being a weakness. True, he would avoid most fights and thus him not wearing armor would not be a weakness. But there are also times when he rushes into battle without a second thought, due to his unpredictable personality, and it is then that the lack of armor is a weakness.

I'm trying to come up with a title for him that aptly describes his mental condition but have been unsuccessful so far. Any suggestions are very welcome.

The sun falls from the evening sky,
this life I cannot abide.
The eternal night draws nigh,
I seek the loving embrace of my lost bride.

[Ta'lia of the Seven Jewels]

Ranks and Titles of Santharia

***Astropic of the day***
"For me there is only the traveling on paths that have heart, on any path   that may have heart. There I travel, and the only worthwhile challenge is to traverse its full length. And there I travel looking, looking, breathlessly. ~Don Juan"

[Marvin Cerambit]

Quote:Marvin, I disagree about that not being a weakness. True, he would avoid most fights and thus him not wearing armor would not be a weakness. But there are also times when he rushes into battle without a second thought, due to his unpredictable personality, and it is then that the lack of armor is a weakness.

Armor slows you down, so sometimes skilled fighters prefer no armor. I still think it's not a weakness because most people have no combatskills at all and very few will actually own armor.

Marving Cerambit ~ Do not tease my Warg, because you are crunchy and tasteful
Need help with your new Character?
~ How to make a  new Character ~ Role Playing Tutorial ~ Measures and Weights ~ Guides and Calculators ~
~ FAQ ~ Restrictions, Elven Aging, Titles & Magic Level ~ The World of Caelereth ~

[Erián'melór]

Ah okay. I guess I just assumed that the lack of armor was a weakness, since Erian was approved with it listed as one.  I belive that his S&W are balanced without it, but I could be wrong.

I finally accepted something as his title.  

The sun falls from the evening sky,
this life I cannot abide.
The eternal night draws nigh,
I seek the loving embrace of my lost bride.

[Ta'lia of the Seven Jewels]

Shouldn't it be Duke of Chylikis?

Maybe I have the time later to go through it, there is surely not much to nothing to critisize, right?  

***Astropic of the day***
"For me there is only the traveling on paths that have heart, on any path   that may have heart. There I travel, and the only worthwhile challenge is to traverse its full length. And there I travel looking, looking, breathlessly. ~Don Juan"

[Ta'lia of the Seven Jewels]

Dear Erian !

This is better written than your entries on the dev-board!
An excellent CD, not too long!   (or was it just the easiness in reading?)

There is just one thing which I don't know, if you meant it like this:

Quote:At the age of twelve, I began to suspect that the distance between my father and I was the true cause of the lack of love in my parents' relationship, and this revelation caused me to double my efforts in my attempts to earn his respect.

Or this way?

At the age of twelve, I began to suspect that the  lack of love in my parents' relationship was the true cause of distance between my father and me and ....


Ready to go!

(I didn't think Aurelian could be reached in his way of dressing...)

***Astropic of the day***
"For me there is only the traveling on paths that have heart, on any path   that may have heart. There I travel, and the only worthwhile challenge is to traverse its full length. And there I travel looking, looking, breathlessly. ~Don Juan"

[Ta'lia of the Seven Jewels]

Just noticed your tribes, maybe you mention, that your mother is from Erpheronia, I assume your (human) father was from another tribe , being duke in Chylikis. (Eyelian, Sophronian?)

***Astropic of the day***
"For me there is only the traveling on paths that have heart, on any path   that may have heart. There I travel, and the only worthwhile challenge is to traverse its full length. And there I travel looking, looking, breathlessly. ~Don Juan"

[Tasuli Rose]

Yay! Tasul'i is approved!

As far as the sentence you pointed out in an earlier post is concerned, it is written as I intended. Tasul'i suspected that the disdain his father felt for him was the true reason that his parents could not love one another.

I really haven't considered the tribe of his human father, as it really doesn't influence Tasul'i. I guess it would be one of those two.

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