Torscha Raines, Centoraurian, Wanderer

[Torscha]

Name: Torscha Raines

Gender: Male

Age: 23

Race: Human

Tribe: Centoraurian

Height in peds: 1 and seven handspans.

Hair Color: Black

Eye color: Black

Occupation: Itinerant storyteller, and something of a multi-entertainer. He is a passable singer and musician, although his repertoire is the kind of bawdy stuff that sees more play in gutter dives than in polite company. To augment his performances, he has also picked up a little sleight-of-hand, and can perform card tricks and coin tricks. Preferably in dim light.

Title: Wanderer

Physical appearance: Torscha has the spare musculature characteristic of his people, with black hair and eyes, and skin tanned by constant travel. While all Centoraurians have famously spare physiques, Torscha’s leanness bespeaks long, hard journeying instead of combat training.

His features are surprisingly boyish; at first glance his age is hard to place, as most are a little confused by the contrast between his youthful features and the weathered skin. Not particularly good-looking, Torscha unfortunately seems to have a semi-permanent smirk stitched into the lines of his mouth: it’s led to more than a few mishaps in the past, and may also account for the crook in his otherwise aquiline nose, the mark of a break that never quite healed right.

Is of medium build for a Centoraurian, standing at a ped and seven handspans and weighing a pygge-and-a-heb. His voice is fairly deep, roughened by too many questionable things put into his pipe, and he usually speaks with a provincial burr, although occasionally when roused to anger or another strong emotion, traces of a clipped, almost aristocratic accent surface. Where he picked it up is anybody’s guess.

If anyone has the occasion to see him unclothed, they will notice that almost his entire back is a mass of shiny scar tissue, as if he was at some point in time cloaked in flames. Torscha remains evasive as to the origin of his disfigurement, sometimes claiming that he was once tortured due to his involvement in some elaborate plot. Whatever its origin, it does wonders for eliciting sympathy and attention from women.

Clothes: His extremely limited wardrobe consists of a simple, long-sleeved linen tunic, which underneath all that dust may once have been white, and leather breeches that by now seems to have been stitched from a series of patches. Usually fairly inured to weather, he has a leather riding coat and oilskin cape for the odd deluge or snowstorm, which normally remains bundled on his packhorse.

Perhaps the only remarkable part of his dressing is his belt, which while commonplace at first glance is unusual in the sense that it contains a number of cunningly-stitched pockets, capable of containing a fair amount of coins as well as miscellaneous items such as tobacco and suchlike.

Upon closer examinations the sleeves of his tunic will also reveal the presence of pockets hidden in the cuff, suitable for concealing whatever he might need, be it a razor-blade, alchemical powders, a lockpick, or a set of loaded dice.

He also has a hat, a plain, wide-brimmed affair too beaten up by time and hard use to actually have much of a shape. He wears a pair of old Centoraurian boots, of leather worn so soft by time that it might be fabric, resoled more times than he can remember.

Upon close inspection, if anyone should ever have the opportunity and cause to do such a thing, the running ends of his bootlaces are actually woven around soft wire cores, handy for using as impromptu picks for escape, should the situation warrant it.

Personality: Despite his youth, Torscha has in his travels acquired a cynical streak a mile-long, and is even more sardonic than the average Centoraurian. While some find it unusual that he is not particularly ornery, unlike his warlike people, he does conform to type when it comes to his wanderlust, which has led him from his home in Xaramon all over southern Santharia.

Perhaps Torscha’s most defining quality is his curiosity: he is naturally inquisitive, and once something has piqued his interest (not a difficult feat) he is loath to let it go. He is intelligent, as most people who live by their wits tend to be (if they survive for long), and shrewd enough to usually stay out of the worst kinds of trouble. What trouble his curiosity gets him into, his razor wit, smooth tongue, and resourcefulness are usually sufficient to get him out of.

Also, unusual for someone born near the city of mages, Torscha is highly superstitious, and tends to be wary of mages and priests alike. He is enough of a con-man to realise that someone who’s peddling something immaterial and making a living out of it probably isn’t the most trustworthy of people. When he suspects that magic is being used near him, or when certain ‘inexplicable’ things occur, Torscha tends to be irrationally jumpy and on edge – something quite uncommon with the cool-headed survivor – and is a firm believer in portents and omens.

His phlegmatic, self-centered attitude towards life has earned him a reputation for being completely amoral, which might not be quite accurate, since he does have his own set of moral values. It just so happens that he seems to prize survival above all else. His world-weary demeanour is however sometimes cracked by a sentimental streak he tries his best to suppress, and he has been known to do some highly irrational things for the sake of sentimentality or on a whim.

He has a pronounced dislike for the upper classes, considering them parasites and hypocrites. His intelligence lends itself well to his lifestyle, making him above all a fast learner and a quick thinker.

Strengths:

Intelligence; Torscha possesses a quick wit and a keen mind, and perhaps most importantly has the instincts to put them to good use. Well, most of the time, anyway. He is also something of a smooth talker, a witty raconteur who apparently makes up for the time he spends travelling alone by talking the ears off the people he encounters in cities and towns.

He has a number of other minor talents, such as the ability to pick basic locks and perform rudimentary sleight of hand.

Living by his wits, he quickly learned that a little skill with weapons goes a long way, and has over time acquired limited proficiency with his weapons of choice, the rapier and the main gauche. Although it is obvious he has received some arms training in his past, he has no particular love of combat, and is as likely to resort to dirty fighting and evasion as engage in face-to-face battle; and while he is a decent enough swordsman to hold off an untrained bandit or skewer an enraged, drunken thug or two, he is certainly in no position to go trading thrusts with a professional soldier or mercenary, or an accomplished duellist, which is where his other talents come in.

Weaknesses:
His incredible snarkiness and smart mouth are what usually get him into trouble in the first place; Torscha’s otherwise lexicographic vocabulary somehow is missing the word ‘tact’.

Despite his usual shrewdness, he also possesses something of a blind spot whenever his interest is piqued, and will often led curiosity lead him straight into some very difficult situations.

Torscha has something of an addiction to gambling and games of chance. The prospect of a wager excites him immensely, easily to irrational degrees. He will find it difficult to turn down all but the most outrageous of propositions, as long as there's an element of luck involved and a stake.

Finally, the mass of scar tissue stretched tight across his back present a problem regarding agility. The taut skin makes Torscha much less agile and flexible than might be expected of someone in his line of work. Fast movement causes him some degree of discomfort; swordplay would likely cause him some pain, even if he remains uninjured; and a simple movement like touching his toes is all but impossible for him.

History: Torscha is usually close-mouthed about his past. Casual inquiries will be deflected with charm and flattery; anything more insistent will probably inspire melancholy and vague mentions of some family tragedy that has driven him from home. If sufficiently plied with alcohol and feminine wiles, he might reveal that he was actually born in Ximax, the city of magic, and that his father was a mage of undefined power.

When Torscha was still young, his father was involved in some sort of sorcerous incident, leading to his death, and possibly that of the rest of his family as well. Torscha’s account at this point is usually highly unreliable; he has been known to vary it depending on the sort of response he would like to elicit. If he’s out for sympathy, he will most likely describe himself and his mother as the only survivors, and his mother having to perform unspecified acts of debauchery in order for them to survive, and will explain his current journeyings as a form of escape from the memories after his mother’s eventual death. If he is looking to impress, he might say that he was the only survivor, forced to live by his wits all these years.

The only thing that is certain is that whatever happened with his father is probably the source of his mistrust and fear of magic, and general superstitiousness. At some point, he left Ximax and started travelling, and picked up his various means of making a living along the way. What is clear is that Torscha has spent much of his life making his way through the world by being charming, amusing, and occasionally useful, as his resourcefulness and intelligence – or so he claims – has enabled him to play a part in a number of intrigues and conspiracies involving (depending on how drunk he is) aristocrats, high clerics, the Santhran himself, and occasionally gods and demons too.

While the latter is highly doubtful, considering his aforementioned aversion to anything supernatural, he does upon examination appear to be exactly the sort of person to be employed as a spy, a messenger, a cat’s-paw, and more likely than not a decoy for more elaborate intrigues.

His sentimental streak and meddling nature make his claims of bringing young lovers divided by the cruel vagaries of Fate much more believable than his outrageous assertion that he once faced down Coor, the Shadow Himself.

In all likelihood, Torscha's history is an amalgamation of most of his likelier stories: those who've known him for some time believe him to be the only survivor of the accident that claimed his parents' lives, and that he has taken to travelling to leave those memories far behind him.

His love of the pastoral countryside and rural settlements probably comes from an aversion to cities and what they represent to him: fire and blood. Most probably his father was a fire mage who, through some mishap, triggered off an eruption of incendiary car'all that killed his entire family except Torscha; who, even so, was not spared: the accident is most likely responsible for the burn scars on Torscha's back, and his intense fear of fire.

Skills:
All of his talents are directed at one goal: survival. Well, survival and exploration, although it’s entirely possible that his wanderlust is actually a repressed urge to get away from something instead of to some particular place.

As is usual for most Centoraurians, he is also fairly proficient with his weapon of choice, in this case a rapier, which he wields with a main gauche.  Perhaps a legacy of a misspent youth, Torscha has somewhere along the line acquired the knack of picking locks – and pockets too, come down to it.

While he’s not going to be breaking into any strongrooms any time soon, he is handy enough to inveigle his way past the crude locks of a barn or run-down gaol.

For a living, he can juggle, perform minor sleight-of-hand conjury, sing, and play and instrument, although his skills in these areas are strictly average – enough to get by, but certainly not up to the standard set by professional, trained bards and performers.

Perhaps his greatest talent is that of storytelling: he possesses a genuine love of the practice, and what he lacks in showmanship and content he more than makes up for in sincerity and passion.

Weapons:

He carries a hiking staff, that any traveller might be assumed to possess, and a wide-bladed hunting knife. His main weapons are a rapier and main gauche, both of which although being battered and showing signs of hard usage are well-balanced and kept screamingly sharp. Despite Torscha’s otherwise flamboyant exhibitionistic streak, the weapons are plain and unornamented, almost homely, although certainly well-made.

Belongings: Possesses those necessities which a lone traveller might be expected to own, such as a bedroll, some cooking utensils, and a number of fairly useless odds and ends he’s picked up on his travels.

He has a mandolin, which although old is in surprisingly good condition, considering the general disrepair of the rest of his equipment, kept in a leather case, and a flute – well a number of flutes actually, most rough-whittled out of whatever is convenient to hand. As might be expected, those don’t really carry much of a tune.

Perhaps the only item of note in his possession are the trio of dice he carries, a set of old, yellowed knucklebones polished smooth by time and frequent usage. Those who've had the misfortune of having played Saki with him before often suspect that the dice are loaded; the veracity of this accusation has never been verified, probably because he knows when to quit.

Familiar: Smoke, his constant companion, is also his pack-horse. While to all intents and purposes nothing more glamorous than a particularly surly, ornery Landesh pony, Torscha insists that his ‘noble steed’ is actually of the stock of the prized Centoraurian chargers, albeit a trifle undersized. In fact, upon examination, Smoke’s lineage is so uncertain that she could have just as easily been descended from a Kiang donkey.

Smoke was named apparently for her colouration, a kind of dirty, muddied smoky-gray. She usually carries Torscha’s pack-bundles, which more or less contain all of his worldly possessions, while the vagabond himself is not averse to walking. On rare occasions she might deign deny to bear him, but usually his attempts at procuring a ride usually end up with him being bitten, kicked, or trampled into the dust.

While they might seem to hate each other, Smoke and Torscha have long established a peculiar relationship all of their own, and whatever the creature might lack in terms of stature and beauty and strength, it makes up for in intelligence. Smoke sometimes shows more good sense than her master does. Torscha claims he cannot remember how long they have travelled together, and apparently won her as part of a bet.

Fellow travellers who have been acquainted with beast and master often wonder if it isn’t more likely that Torscha’s ownership of Smoke might be the result of a lost wager instead.

[Torscha]

I suppose I need to ask permission in order to use the bone dice as an artifact. While they are undoubtedly magical, I don't see them as being particularly powerful or rule-breaking, and they do add a great deal of colour to the character as a whole. They also make a good story device that isn't some kind of ultimate weapon.

Of course, if it is deemed unfeasible or unbalanced for whatever reason, it is entirely possible to excise the artifact from the CD without adversely affecting the character, so just let me know what you think.

[Malavon Despana]

Not that my opinion counts much , but whats is it worth i think this is one great cd !!

Edited by: Malavon Despana at: 3/24/06 6:54

[Torscha]

Thanks, positive feedback always counts for something. At best, it inspires greater efforts. At its worst, well, at least it's affirming.

[Claudirea]

So....long.....*eyes pop outta skull*

I'll come back and read this when I have more time. I have a test in 40 min. so I have to go study. This intrests me very greatly for I love story tellers. I believe I read that somewhere near the beginning.

Good job and good luck!

[Ta'lia of the Seven Jewels]

Hello and welcome!

These are my comments , and this my proposals , here I'm doubtful about your    language or grammar etc   and here is just something questionable or wrong  




Name: Torscha Raines

Gender: Male

Age: 22

Race: Human

Tribe: Centoraurian

Occupation: Itinerant storyteller, and something of a multi-entertainer. He is a passable singer and musician, although his repertoire is the kind of bawdy stuff that sees more play in gutter dives than in polite company. To augment his performances, he has also picked up a little sleight-of-hand, and can perform card tricks and coin tricks. Preferably in dim light.

Title: Wanderer

Physical appearance: Torscha has the spare musculature characteristic of his people, with black hair and eyes, and skin tanned by constant travel. While all Centoraurians have famously spare physiques, Torscha’s leanness bespeaks long, hard journeying instead of combat training. His features are surprisingly boyish; at first glance his age is hard to place, as most are a little confused by the contrast between his youthful features and the weathered skin. Not particularly good-looking, Torscha unfortunately seems to have a semi-permanent smirk stitched into the lines of his mouth: it’s led to more than a few mishaps in the past, and may also account for the crook in his otherwise aquiline nose, the mark of a break that never quite healed right. Is of medium build for a Centoraurian, standing at about a ped and seven handspans  and weighing a pygge-and-a-heb. His voice is fairly deep, roughened by too many questionable things put into his pipe, and he usually speaks with a provincial burr, although occasionally when roused to anger or another strong emotion, traces of a clipped, almost aristocratic accent surface. Where he picked it up is anybody’s guess.

Clothes: His extremely limited wardrobe consists of a simple, long-sleeved linen tunic, which underneath all that dust may once have been white, and leather breeches that by now seems to have been stitched from a series of patches. Usually fairly inured to weather, he has a leather riding coat and oilskin cape for the odd deluge or snowstorm, which normally remains bundled on his packhorse. Perhaps the only remarkable part of his dressing is his belt, which while commonplace at first glance is unusual in the sense that it contains a number of cunningly-stitched pockets, capable of containing a fair amount of coins as well as miscellaneous items such as tobacco and suchlike. Upon closer examinations the sleeves of his tunic will also reveal the presence of pockets hidden in the cuff, suitable for concealing whatever he might need, be it a razor-blade, alchemical powders, a lockpick, or a set of loaded dice. He also has a hat, a plain, wide-brimmed affair too beaten up by time and hard use to actually have much of a shape. He wears a pair of old Centoraurian boots, of leather worn so soft by time that it might be fabric, resoled more times than he can remember. Upon close inspection, if anyone should ever have the opportunity and cause to do such a thing, the running ends of his bootlaces are actually woven around soft wire cores, handy for using as impromptu picks for escape, should the situation warrant it.

Personality: Despite his youth, Torscha has in his travels acquired a cynical streak a stral-long, and is even more sardonic than the average Centoraurian. While some find it unusual that he is not particularly ornery, unlike his warlike people, he does conform to type when it comes to his wanderlust, which has led him from his home in Xaramon all over southern Santharia. Perhaps Torscha’s most defining quality is his curiosity: he is naturally inquisitive, and once something has piqued his interest (not a difficult feat) he is loath to let it go. He is intelligent, as most people who live by their wits tend to be (if they survive for long), and shrewd enough to usually stay out of the worst kinds of trouble. What trouble his curiosity gets him into, his razor wit, smooth tongue, and resourcefulness are usually sufficient to get him out of. Also, unusual for someone born near the city of mages, Torscha is highly superstitious, and tends to be wary of mages and priests alike. He is enough of a con-man to realise that someone who’s peddling something immaterial and making a living out of it probably isn’t the most trustworthy of people. When he suspects that magic is being used near him, or when certain ‘inexplicable’ things occur, Torscha tends to be irrationally jumpy and on edge – something quite uncommon with the cool-headed survivor – and is a firm believer in portents and omens. His phlegmatic, self-centered attitude towards life has earned him a reputation for being completely amoral, which might not be quite accurate, since he does have his own set of moral values. It just so happens that he seems to prize survival above all else. His world-weary demeanour is however sometimes cracked by a sentimental streak he tries his best to suppress, and he has been known to do some highly irrational things for the sake of sentimentality or on a whim. He has a pronounced dislike for the upper classes, considering them parasites and hypocrites. His intelligence lends itself well to his lifestyle, making him above all a fast learner and a quick thinker.

Strengths: Intelligence; Torscha possesses a quick wit and a keen mind, and perhaps most importantly has the instincts to put them to good use. Well, most of the time, anyway. He is also something of a smooth talker, a witty raconteur who apparently makes up for the time he spends travelling alone by talking the ears off the people he encounters in cities and towns. He has a number of other minor talents, such as some degree of skill with his weapons and a couple of other, slightly more questionable abilities, but he takes little pride in them and sees them as merely tools.

Weaknesses: His incredible snarkiness and smart mouth are what usually get him into trouble in the first place; Torscha’s otherwise lexicographic vocabulary somehow is missing the word ‘tact’. Despite his usual shrewdness, he also possesses something of a blind spot whenever his interest is piqued, and will often led curiosity lead him straight into some very difficult situations. Finally, he has an almost pathological aversion to magic of all sorts, and acts erratically whenever he observes magic being used, to the point of being almost incapacitated by the threat of having magic used on him.

History: Torscha is usually close-mouthed about his past. Casual inquiries will be deflected with charm and flattery; anything more insistent will probably inspire melancholy and vague mentions of some family tragedy that has driven him from home. If sufficiently plied with alcohol and feminine wiles, he might reveal that he was actually born in Ximax, the city of magic, and that his father was a mage of undefined power. When Torscha was still young, his father was involved in some sort of sorcerous incident, leading to his death, and possibly that of the rest of his family as well. Torscha’s account at this point is usually highly unreliable; he has been known to vary it depending on the sort of response he would like to elicit. If he’s out for sympathy, he will most likely describe himself and his mother as the only survivors, and his mother having to perform unspecified acts of debauchery in order for them to survive, and will explain his current journeyings as a form of escape from the memories after his mother’s eventual death. If he is looking to impress, he might say that he was the only survivor, forced to live by his wits all these years. The only thing that is certain is that whatever happened with his father is probably the source of his mistrust and fear of magic, and general superstitiousness. At some point, he left Ximax and started travelling, and picked up his various means of making a living along the way. Perhaps one of the more memorable incidents in his past was the furtive night he spent with an alchemist’s daughter, which might explain his otherwise inexplicable knowledge of certain formulae, and his facility with the alchemical reagents necessary to create the powders and compounds he uses as props (and sometimes weapons). What is clear is that Torscha has spent much of his life making his way through the world by being charming, amusing, and occasionally useful, as his resourcefulness and intelligence – or so he claims – has enabled him to play a part in a number of intrigues and conspiracies involving (depending on how drunk he is) aristocrats, high clerics, the Saranth ??? himself, and occasionally gods and demons too. While the latter is highly doubtful, considering his aforementioned aversion to anything supernatural, he does upon examination appear to be exactly the sort of person to be employed as a spy, a messenger, a cat’s-paw, and more likely than not a decoy for more elaborate intrigues. His sentimental streak and meddling nature make his claims of bringing young lovers divided by the cruel vagaries of Fate much more believable than his outrageous assertion that he once faced down Coor, the Shadow Himself.

Skills: All of his talents are directed at one goal: survival. Well, survival and exploration, although it’s entirely possible that his wanderlust is actually a repressed urge to get away from something instead of to some particular place. He is a capable loner and survivalist, possessing those skills necessary for self-sufficiency in the wilderness: he can trap small game, and is a decent enough shot with a bow to hit a hare at twenty paces with a bow and a squirrel at ten with a sling. As is usual for most Centoraurians, he is also fairly proficient with his weapon of choice, in this case a rapier, which he wields with a main gauche. Although it is obvious he has received some arms training in his past, he has no particular love of combat, and is as likely to resort to dirty fighting and evasion as engage in face-to-face battle; and while he is a decent enough swordsman to hold off an untrained bandit or skewer an enraged, drunken thug or two, he is certainly in no position to go trading thrusts with a professional soldier or mercenary, or an accomplished duellist, which is where his other talents come in. Perhaps a legacy of a misspent youth, Torscha has somewhere along the line acquired the knack of picking locks – and pockets too, come down to it. While he’s not going to be breaking into any strongrooms any time soon, he is handy enough to inveigle his way past the crude locks of a barn or run-down gaol. Finally, for those situations where nothing else will do, he keeps something of an ace up his sleeve: packets of alchemical compound, usually used to create coloured smokes for his performances, which can just as easily be used to blind and confound an opponent. For a living, he can juggle, perform minor sleight-of-hand conjury, sing, and play and instrument, although his skills in these areas are strictly average – enough to get by, but certainly not up to the standard set by professional, trained bards and performers. Perhaps his greatest talent is that of storytelling: he possesses a genuine love of the practice, and what he lacks in showmanship and content he more than makes up for in sincerity and passion.

Weapons: Varied, although most aren’t meant for use on other people. He owns a short bow of laminated yew and horn, mostly used for pegging small game like hare, and for limited defense against wild beasts. Its draw is fairly light, around twelve hafebs, and the broad-headed shafts he uses are of limited use against anything larger than a wolf. It usually remains on the back of his pack-mount. He carries a hiking staff, that any traveller might be assumed to possess, and a wide-bladed hunting knife. His main weapons are a rapier and main gauche, both of which although being battered and showing signs of hard usage are well-balanced and kept screamingly sharp. Despite Torscha’s otherwise flamboyant exhibitionistic streak, the weapons are plain and unornamented, almost homely, although certainly well-made.

Belongings: Possesses those necessities which a lone traveller might be expected to own, such as a bedroll, some cooking utensils, and a number of fairly useless odds and ends he’s picked up on his travels. He has a mandolin, which although old is in surprisingly good condition, considering the general disrepair of the rest of his equipment, kept in a leather case, and a flute – well a number of flutes actually, most rough-whittled out of whatever is convenient to hand. As might be expected, those don’t really carry much of a tune. Perhaps the only item of note in his possession are the trio of dice he carries, a set of old, yellowed knucklebones polished smooth by time and frequent usage.

The Dice: While they appear innocuous enough, if a trifle old, they are actually relics taken from the shattered bones of a Daedhirian magus during a skirmish in the Anpagan Republican War, relics collected by a soldier who was promptly knifed by his comrades for suspected cheating at dice. The dice have subsequently been passed from person to person, and all knowledge of their origin has been lost. The dice have been owned by merchants and sailors, cut-throats and travelling minstrels, and they show no real sign of their supernatural origins, except for the fact that when used they appear to favour their user, blessing him with exceptional luck in dice rolls – an ability which has led to more than a few of those owners meeting unfortunate accidents at the hands of suspicious gamblers. The dice also appear to display a certain degree of sentience: they have a tendency of ‘failing’ their owner at opportune times, perhaps when it suits their purpose to belong to someone else. It is entirely possible that the bones still retain the car’all of whatever being the magus used to be, and are sentient, and are working towards some unknown purpose, entering the lives of ‘useful’ people and affecting their luck for better or worse. Usually for worse, in the long run. Torscha came into possession of the dice after winning them off a washed-out gambler in a game of Saki; he is currently unaware of whatever properties they might have, except that he seems to roll better with them. He is, however, (usually) shrewd enough to quit most games before people start suspecting his dice are loaded. Being somewhat superstitious, Torscha has used the dice for divination before, usually inviting people who ask him for favours to roll them to determine whether they are ‘lucky’ or not. The dice have led him into several dangerous endeavours before, but Torscha cheerfully sees the fact of his own survival as evidence of their effectiveness as a divination tool.


Familiar: Smoke, his constant companion, is also his pack-horse. While to all intents and purposes nothing more glamorous than a particularly surly, ornery Landesh pony, Torscha insists that his ‘noble steed’ is actually of the stock of the prized Centoraurian chargers, albeit a trifle undersized. In fact, upon examination, Smoke’s lineage is so uncertain that she could have just as easily been descended from Kiang donkey. Smoke was named apparently for her colouration, a kind of dirty, muddied smoky-gray. She usually carries Torscha’s pack-bundles, which more or less contain all of his worldly possessions, while the vagabond himself is not averse to walking. On rare occasions she might deign to bear him, but usually his attempts at procuring a ride usually end up with him being bitten, kicked, or trampled into the dust. While they might seem to hate each other, Smoke and Torscha have long established a peculiar relationship all of their own, and whatever the creature might lack in terms of stature and beauty and strength, it makes up for in intelligence. Smoke sometimes shows more good sense than her master does. Torscha claims he cannot remember how long they have travelled together, and apparently won her as part of a bet. Fellow travellers who have been acquainted with beast and master often wonder if it isn’t more likely that Torscha’s ownership of Smoke might be the result of a lost wager instead.

What a great CD! I would love to approve you at once, but to be fair to others, I have to ask you to add something more to your history.
- Why are you born in Xaramon, when you are a Centoraurian (I assume, your father worked as a mage in Ximax, but mention it.
- tell us, which is the most probably version of your history
- where have you aquired your skills with the weapons, where with the dice and what ever you know in addition

- your weapons skills need to go under strength - and then you are not balanced enough

Your magical artefact is a bit of a problem. Its origin is a bit doubtful, why should it have these properties? I think you don‘t need it, for a good player can achieve all this with prepared dices as well. I don‘t know, if it would be possible magic wise. If you want to keep it, you need to go and ask our mages (Marvin, Mina) , if it would be possible and then find a really good story how you got them. A heirloom would be too easy, but you are in Ximax..

So much for now.
And again, a CD I like very much!

***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"

[Torscha]

What a great CD! I would love to approve you at once, but to be fair to others, I have to ask you to add something more to your history.
- Why are you born in Xaramon, when you are a Centoraurian (I assume, your father worked as a mage in Ximax, but mention it.
- tell us, which is the most probably version of your history
- where have you aquired your skills with the weapons, where with the dice and what ever you know in addition

- your weapons skills need to go under strength - and then you are not balanced enough

Your magical artefact is a bit of a problem. Its origin is a bit doubtful, why should it have these properties? I think you don‘t need it, for a good player can achieve all this with prepared dices as well. I don‘t know, if it would be possible magic wise. If you want to keep it, you need to go and ask our mages (Marvin, Mina) , if it would be possible and then find a really good story how you got them. A heirloom would be too easy, but you are in Ximax..

So much for now.
And again, a CD I like very much!

First of all, thank you very much for taking the time to read through it, I know I have a tendency towards the verbose that turns a number of people off. I also have a few questions regarding the things you've pointed out.

-- Perhaps my map-reading skills are deficient; from what I understand, Ximax stands on formerly Centoraurian territory, so I do not think it particularly strange that someone Ximax-born might also be Centoraurian.

-- I shall go fix his history to be a little less vague.

-- Might it be fair to say that his skills were learned along his travels, through hard experience instead of a deliberate effort to go pick them up? He's learned exactly what he needs to know to survive; some limited skill with weapons would I think be considered basic, especially for someone from a tribe known to be fairly warlike.

By the way, his weapon abilities were always listed under strength. I have highlighted them in red.

Might you have any suggestions on how he might be made a trifle more balanced? I would have thought that a pathological fear of magic in a predominantly magical world would be something of a major drawback, but again, I am open to critique.

I am perfectly fine with cutting out the dice altogether. Like I mentioned, it's mostly for flavour, and a little RP fun, but I suppose if its magical properties are going to be a hassle or unbalancing I would have no problem if they were removed completely.

Edited by: Torscha at: 3/25/06 3:58

[Mina]

Ximax is in Centoraurian territory, yes, though historically, it's been quite autonomous (and probably still is).  In any case, much of the non-magical population probably are Centoraurians, due to its location.  Magic users should be more diverse, due to it being the most prestigious and best school in the kingdom, and thus attracting students from all over.  So, in any case, I have no problem with your character being born in Xaramon, or even Ximax itself, especially since his father is a Ximaxian mage.  

The dice are more problematic though.  They're definitely not overpowered, and their effects are subtle enough to possibly have a mundane explanation.  However, artifacts of any kind are heavily restricted, and I don't know of any means of affecting luck using Ximaxian magic (though the dice are most likely made by magi following a different magic tradition, Ximaxian theories can explain most magical effects).  So, I'm not quite sure what to do with them at the moment.  I'll need some time to think about this, and I'll probably want to see what Marvin and the other mods think about it too.  However, I will say that I'll be more inclined to let it through if it's presented in a way that makes it seem much less obviously magical, that it's probably just a mundane loaded dice.  

Quote:I would have thought that a pathological fear of magic in a predominantly magical world would be something of a major drawback, but again, I am open to critique.

I wouldn't call this a predominantly magical world.  Magic does exist, but it's seldom seen, and magi are very, very rare.  A pathological fear of magic (not the mere suspicion and distrust quite commonly shown towards magic users by the non-magical people) would be a weakness, though how severe it is depends on how often you encounter magic.  Personally, I won't really call it a major drawback though.  

[Torscha]

Well, the dice don't actually make him luckier. What I was gunning for was more the feel that the dice have something of a life of their own, retaining some of the unnatural vitality that the Daedhirians use to reanimate the dead with, and as partial entities in their own right they can 'choose' the way they fall, and will always fall to the advantage of their owner unless they are intent on having their ownership transferred to someone else.

While it certainly isn't out of character for Torscha to be using loaded dice, I was thinking of something a little less prosaic, actually.

To complement his wariness of magic, I also made him pyrophobic... more for hilarity's sake than anything else. Someone who smokes a pipe and is also afraid of fire is probably going to be a barrel of antics.

[Kalína Dalá'isyrás]

Hello!

I noticed you had made some changes (onces in accordance to Talia's comments) and the dice section was removed.

Will you still be using dice, just not magically "enhanced" ones?

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[Twén Aråerwén]

Name: Torscha Raines

Gender: Male

Age: 22

Race: Human

Tribe: Centoraurian

Height in meters:

Hair Color:

Eye color:

Occupation: Itinerant storyteller, and something of a multi-entertainer. He is a passable singer and musician, although his repertoire is the kind of bawdy stuff that sees more play in gutter dives than in polite company. To augment his performances, he has also picked up a little sleight-of-hand, and can perform card tricks and coin tricks. Preferably in dim light.

Title: Wanderer

Physical appearance: Torscha has the spare musculature characteristic of his people, with black hair and eyes, and skin tanned by constant travel. While all Centoraurians have famously spare physiques, Torscha’s leanness bespeaks long, hard journeying instead of combat training.
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His features are surprisingly boyish; at first glance his age is hard to place, as most are a little confused by the contrast between his youthful features and the weathered skin. Not particularly good-looking, Torscha unfortunately seems to have a semi-permanent smirk stitched into the lines of his mouth: it’s led to more than a few mishaps in the past, and may also account for the crook in his otherwise aquiline nose, the mark of a break that never quite healed right.
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Is of medium build for a Centoraurian, standing at a ped and seven handspans and weighing a pygge-and-a-heb. His voice is fairly deep, roughened by too many questionable things put into his pipe, and he usually speaks with a provincial burr, although occasionally when roused to anger or another strong emotion, traces of a clipped, almost aristocratic accent surface. Where he picked it up is anybody’s guess.
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If anyone has the occasion to see him unclothed, they will notice that almost his entire back is a mass of shiny scar tissue, as if he was at some point in time cloaked in flames. Torscha remains evasive as to the origin of his disfigurement, sometimes claiming that he was once tortured due to his involvement in some elaborate plot. Whatever its origin, it does wonders for eliciting sympathy and attention from women.

Clothes: His extremely limited wardrobe consists of a simple, long-sleeved linen tunic, which underneath all that dust may once have been white, and leather breeches that by now seems to have been stitched from a series of patches. Usually fairly inured to weather, he has a leather riding coat and oilskin cape for the odd deluge or snowstorm, which normally remains bundled on his packhorse.
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Perhaps the only remarkable part of his dressing is his belt, which while commonplace at first glance is unusual in the sense that it contains a number of cunningly-stitched pockets, capable of containing a fair amount of coins as well as miscellaneous items such as tobacco and suchlike.
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Upon closer examinations the sleeves of his tunic will also reveal the presence of pockets hidden in the cuff, suitable for concealing whatever he might need, be it a razor-blade, alchemical powders, a lockpick, or a set of loaded dice.
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He also has a hat, a plain, wide-brimmed affair too beaten up by time and hard use to actually have much of a shape. He wears a pair of old Centoraurian boots, of leather worn so soft by time that it might be fabric, resoled more times than he can remember.
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Upon close inspection, if anyone should ever have the opportunity and cause to do such a thing, the running ends of his bootlaces are actually woven around soft wire cores, handy for using as impromptu picks for escape, should the situation warrant it.

Personality: Despite his youth, Torscha has in his travels acquired a cynical streak a mile-long, and is even more sardonic than the average Centoraurian. While some find it unusual that he is not particularly ornery, unlike his warlike people, he does conform to type when it comes to his wanderlust, which has led him from his home in Xaramon all over southern Santharia.
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Perhaps Torscha’s most defining quality is his curiosity: he is naturally inquisitive, and once something has piqued his interest (not a difficult feat) he is loath to let it go. He is intelligent, as most people who live by their wits tend to be (if they survive for long), and shrewd enough to usually stay out of the worst kinds of trouble. What trouble his curiosity gets him into, his razor wit, smooth tongue, and resourcefulness are usually sufficient to get him out of.
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Also, unusual for someone born near the city of mages, Torscha is highly superstitious, and tends to be wary of mages and priests alike. He is enough of a con-man to realise that someone who’s peddling something immaterial and making a living out of it probably isn’t the most trustworthy of people. When he suspects that magic is being used near him, or when certain ‘inexplicable’ things occur, Torscha tends to be irrationally jumpy and on edge – something quite uncommon with the cool-headed survivor – and is a firm believer in portents and omens.
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His phlegmatic, self-centered attitude towards life has earned him a reputation for being completely amoral, which might not be quite accurate, since he does have his own set of moral values. It just so happens that he seems to prize survival above all else. His world-weary demeanour is however sometimes cracked by a sentimental streak he tries his best to suppress, and he has been known to do some highly irrational things for the sake of sentimentality or on a whim.
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He has a pronounced dislike for the upper classes, considering them parasites and hypocrites. His intelligence lends itself well to his lifestyle, making him above all a fast learner and a quick thinker.

Strengths: Intelligence; Torscha possesses a quick wit and a keen mind, and perhaps most importantly has the instincts to put them to good use. Well, most of the time, anyway. He is also something of a smooth talker, a witty raconteur who apparently makes up for the time he spends travelling alone by talking the ears off the people he encounters in cities and towns.
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He has a number of other minor talents, such as some degree of skill with his weapons and a couple of other, slightly more questionable abilities, but he takes little pride in them and sees them as merely tools.

Weaknesses: His incredible snarkiness and smart mouth are what usually get him into trouble in the first place; Torscha’s otherwise lexicographic vocabulary somehow is missing the word ‘tact’. Despite his usual shrewdness, he also possesses something of a blind spot whenever his interest is piqued, and will often led curiosity lead him straight into some very difficult situations.
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Finally, he has an almost pathological aversion to magic of all sorts, and acts erratically whenever he observes magic being used, to the point of being almost incapacitated by the threat of having magic used on him. This fear of magic seems especially intense in relation to fire magic; even mundane fire can sometimes provoke a strong reaction from Torscha, usually causing him to flinch visibly when it is kindled unexpectedly or close by.

History: Torscha is usually close-mouthed about his past. Casual inquiries will be deflected with charm and flattery; anything more insistent will probably inspire melancholy and vague mentions of some family tragedy that has driven him from home. If sufficiently plied with alcohol and feminine wiles, he might reveal that he was actually born in Ximax, the city of magic, and that his father was a mage of undefined power.
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When Torscha was still young, his father was involved in some sort of sorcerous incident, leading to his death, and possibly that of the rest of his family as well. Torscha’s account at this point is usually highly unreliable; he has been known to vary it depending on the sort of response he would like to elicit. If he’s out for sympathy, he will most likely describe himself and his mother as the only survivors, and his mother having to perform unspecified acts of debauchery in order for them to survive, and will explain his current journeyings as a form of escape from the memories after his mother’s eventual death. If he is looking to impress, he might say that he was the only survivor, forced to live by his wits all these years.
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The only thing that is certain is that whatever happened with his father is probably the source of his mistrust and fear of magic, and general superstitiousness. At some point, he left Ximax and started travelling, and picked up his various means of making a living along the way. "Alchemist's daughter" subsection removed. What is clear is that Torscha has spent much of his life making his way through the world by being charming, amusing, and occasionally useful, as his resourcefulness and intelligence – or so he claims – has enabled him to play a part in a number of intrigues and conspiracies involving (depending on how drunk he is) aristocrats, high clerics, the Santhran himself, and occasionally gods and demons too.
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While the latter is highly doubtful, considering his aforementioned aversion to anything supernatural, he does upon examination appear to be exactly the sort of person to be employed as a spy, a messenger, a cat’s-paw, and more likely than not a decoy for more elaborate intrigues.
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His sentimental streak and meddling nature make his claims of bringing young lovers divided by the cruel vagaries of Fate much more believable than his outrageous assertion that he once faced down Coor, the Shadow Himself.

In all likelihood, Torscha's history is an amalgamation of most of his likelier stories: those who've known him for some time believe him to be the only survivor of the accident that claimed his parents' lives, and that he has taken to travelling to leave those memories far behind him.
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His love of the pastoral countryside and rural settlements probably comes from an aversion to cities and what they represent to him: fire and blood. Most probably his father was a fire mage who, through some mishap, triggered off an eruption of incendiary car'all that killed his entire family except Torscha; who, even so, was not spared: the accident is most likely responsible for the burn scars on Torscha's back, and his intense fear of fire.

Skills: STRENGTHS:All of his talents are directed at one goal: survival. Well, survival and exploration, although it’s entirely possible that his wanderlust is actually a repressed urge to get away from something instead of to some particular place. He is a capable loner and survivalist, possessing those skills necessary for self-sufficiency in the wilderness: he can trap small game, and is a decent enough shot with a bow to hit a hare at twenty paces with a bow and a squirrel at ten with a sling.

As is usual for most Centoraurians, he is also fairly proficient with his weapon of choice, in this case a rapier, which he wields with a main gauche. Although it is obvious he has received some arms training in his past, he has no particular love of combat, and is as likely to resort to dirty fighting and evasion as engage in face-to-face battle; and while he is a decent enough swordsman to hold off an untrained bandit or skewer an enraged, drunken thug or two, he is certainly in no position to go trading thrusts with a professional soldier or mercenary, or an accomplished duellist, which is where his other talents come in. Perhaps a legacy of a misspent youth, Torscha has somewhere along the line acquired the knack of picking locks – and pockets too, come down to it.
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While he’s not going to be breaking into any strongrooms any time soon, he is handy enough to inveigle his way past the crude locks of a barn or run-down gaol. Finally, for those situations where nothing else will do, he keeps something of an ace up his sleeve: packets of alchemical compound, usually used to create coloured smokes for his performances, which can just as easily be used to blind and confound an opponent. I am considering removing this portion, as on reflection it is rather an unnecessary skill.
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For a living, he can juggle, perform minor sleight-of-hand conjury, sing, and play and instrument, although his skills in these areas are strictly average – enough to get by, but certainly not up to the standard set by professional, trained bards and performers.
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Perhaps his greatest talent is that of storytelling: he possesses a genuine love of the practice, and what he lacks in showmanship and content he more than makes up for in sincerity and passion.
As these are mostly strengths they should be listed as such. With all these strengths I would recommend at least a few major weaknesses.
Weapons: Varied, although most aren’t meant for use on other people. He owns a short bow of laminated yew and horn, mostly used for pegging small game like hare, and for limited defense against wild beasts. Its draw is fairly light, around twelve hafebs, and the broad-headed shafts he uses are of limited use against anything larger than a wolf. It usually remains on the back of his pack-mount.
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He carries a hiking staff, that any traveller might be assumed to possess, and a wide-bladed hunting knife. His main weapons are a rapier and main gauche, both of which although being battered and showing signs of hard usage are well-balanced and kept screamingly sharp. Despite Torscha’s otherwise flamboyant exhibitionistic streak, the weapons are plain and unornamented, almost homely, although certainly well-made.

Belongings: Possesses those necessities which a lone traveller might be expected to own, such as a bedroll, some cooking utensils, and a number of fairly useless odds and ends he’s picked up on his travels.
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He has a mandolin, which although old is in surprisingly good condition, considering the general disrepair of the rest of his equipment, kept in a leather case, and a flute – well a number of flutes actually, most rough-whittled out of whatever is convenient to hand. As might be expected, those don’t really carry much of a tune.
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Perhaps the only item of note in his possession are the trio of dice he carries, a set of old, yellowed knucklebones polished smooth by time and frequent usage. Those who've had the misfortune of having played Saki with him before often suspect that the dice are loaded; the veracity of this accusation has never been verified, probably because he knows when to quit.

"Dice" subsection removed

Familiar: Smoke, his constant companion, is also his pack-horse. While to all intents and purposes nothing more glamorous than a particularly surly, ornery Landesh pony, Torscha insists that his ‘noble steed’ is actually of the stock of the prized Centoraurian chargers, albeit a trifle undersized. In fact, upon examination, Smoke’s lineage is so uncertain that she could have just as easily been descended from a Kiang donkey.
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Smoke was named apparently for her colouration, a kind of dirty, muddied smoky-gray. She usually carries Torscha’s pack-bundles, which more or less contain all of his worldly possessions, while the vagabond himself is not averse to walking. On rare occasions she might deign deny to bear him, but usually his attempts at procuring a ride usually end up with him being bitten, kicked, or trampled into the dust.
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While they might seem to hate each other, Smoke and Torscha have long established a peculiar relationship all of their own, and whatever the creature might lack in terms of stature and beauty and strength, it makes up for in intelligence. Smoke sometimes shows more good sense than her master does. Torscha claims he cannot remember how long they have travelled together, and apparently won her as part of a bet.
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Fellow travellers who have been acquainted with beast and master often wonder if it isn’t more likely that Torscha’s ownership of Smoke might be the result of a lost wager instead.  

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[Torscha]

Well, considering that Torscha's a wandering gambler and itinerant, I'm sure dice will come into play at some point in time, and he's got a good enough wrist to be assumed to be able to throw dice belonging to other people with reasonable chances of success.

So yes, he'll stll be rolling 'em, but he just won't have the benefit of a pair of enhanced (well, cursed rather) dice. Although that's not to say he wouldn't jump at the chance to pick them up if they came his way.

Twen, thank you very much for kindly pointing out where the formatting could have done with some work; I'm going back to make those changes you've indicated.

Hopefully this'll get me one step further to being approved.

[Twén Aråerwén]

Hiya Tor! I would still like you to add some of his more potent SKILLS to his strength section. Outside of this I am very happy with what you have here. I am going to place the pencil icon for you. Please return the exclamation mark once you have edited this. Not long now hun  

This character makes me hope to run across you in an adventure one day.  

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Edited by: Twen  Araerwen  at: 5/21/06 22:44

[Torscha]

Well, I'm still not quite sure what you mean by more potent skills, since I think as far as characters go Torscha is just about self-sufficient and that's it, but I've added his limited weapon proficiency to his list of strengths. If there's anything else troubling you, please let me hear your suggestions.

And yes, I'm heartily looking forward to taking Torscha for a ramble.

[Twén Aråerwén]

Tor, you have done as I asked. The sword proficiency is exactly what I meant by more potent skills. Swordsmanship, no matter how minute must be listed under strengths. I'll give you the + for my approval, as this was the final issue I can find with your CD. Please keep in mind when you are RPing what you have stated for this character and his weapon skills. Because this lends the balance I find here with them. Happy Role-playing ~bows gracefully and departs~

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