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Author Topic: Termat Geirskun/Avennorian/Gentleman  (Read 2130 times)
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Termat Geirskun
Debonair Gentleman
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Posts: 45


Human, Avennorian


« on: February 05, 2012, 06:34:12 AM »

Name

Termat Geirskun

Sex

Male

Age

17

Race

Human

Tribe

Avennorian

Occupation

None; gentleman-landowner.

Title

Debonair Gentleman

Character Portrait



Overview (optional)

Termat, being Avennorian, is not tall, but he is every one of his few palmspans a gentleman. Polite, articulate, and vaguely whimsical, his air is almostly uniformly cheerful, if slightly ironic in its geniality. He has been described as unable to take things seriously; more accurate might be the statement that he has decided not to, or does not wish to, take things seriously.

APPEARANCE

Height

One ped, a fore, two palmspans and six nailsbreadths.

Weight

One pygge, two hebs.

Hair Colour

Dark blond, almost pale brown.

Eye Colour

Slightly darker than Sou'cald blue.

Physical Appearance

Short, like all his tribe, Termat is a young man of middling looks; while he has no obvious flaws in his appearance, he could not be described as shockingly attractive. His greatest charm is the half-smile that seems perpetually sewn to his lip by some capricious spirit and the spark of lively irony and amusement that lights up his face. His straight hair, a dark, almost brown, blond, is kept short and generally parted over the far side of his left eye, although it is slightly unruly and, despite his best efforts at training it, tends to fall down over his brow by the time it reaches his right eye - if not all of it, then at least one unruly lock. In his left eye he occasionally wears a monocle; in truth, his vision is impaired in his right eye as well, but to such a minor degree that he prefers to wear a monocle rather than spectacles for those rare occasions when he needs it. When not in use, he tucks the monocle into the left pocket of his waistcoat.

On his right hand he bears a small scar, about two nailsbreadths across, a relic of his youth; he cut himself on his great-grandfather’s cutlass. His hands have also been noted as being strangely large for someone of his stature, although they are not by any stretch of the imagination oversized. His fingernails are kept clean and his face is clean-shaven each morning.

Clothing

Termat’s clothes are without exception well-made, precisely fitted, and of superbly good cloth. Although he dresses smartly and neatly, however, he is not foppish and eschews the overly fancy costumes of some fashionable sets in favour of simpler garb. While his precise outfit varies with the formality of an occasion, he wears at the very least a shirt of linen, wool or silk; a pair of breeches or - more frequently - trousers, frequently coloured a dark green like that of Herne ore or else a pale cream; and a pair of smart, stout, black or brown shoes over a suitable pair of socks. To this, in the daytime, he almost invariably adds a jacket coming to just below his waist - a green-brown one made out of tightly-woven wool, with a subtle red and orange check only visible at close ranges, or a pale linen one for warmer weather, with a colour reminiscent of the Yealm reed or Lýth’bél pollen, are his favourites - and a cravat, which he ties quickly, elegantly, and expertly, often finds its way into the ensemble, as does a red, white or blue silk handkerchief, which he tucks into the breast pocket of his jacket. A waistcoat is also a frequent part of his attire, as he keeps his monocle and his watch in its two front pockets, with their fine gold chains looped through its buttonholes - if he is not wearing it, the monocle goes in his shirt pocket and the watch in his jacket. If involved in any activity that might be muddy or wet, he dons an overcoat that comes just past his knees and puts on boots that cover his ankles.

In the evening, he sometimes wears simply his normal daywear, though always with an appropriate jacket - his linen one is ideal for long, warm summer evenings, and his woollen one is suitable and sufficient even in the wintertime, although on particularly cold evenings he will take out his overcoat. However, he frequently does not remain in the same clothes, and instead changes into his eveningwear; black trousers, his shiniest black shoes, a crisply pressed white shirt, a black jacket with lapels of Carmaladian velvet, and either a white or a black cravat; the white is rather smarter, but the black is worn when he is in a less formal context and not actively “dressing” for anything. With this outfit he usually, in place of a waistcoat, wears a pale blue or dark green silk sash, wrapped carefully so as to be pleated in his usual neat, smart style; he is almost as expert at this as he is at tying his cravat, and manages to make it look just as effortless while retaining all its formality and smartness. Due to his lack of a waistcoat, he keeps his watch and monocle in internal jacket pockets; his response if he is asked why he does not simply wear a waistcoat is that he feels “like a criminal, festooned with chains all the time!”

PERSONALITY & ABILITIES

Personality

Summed up in a word, Termat would be - and has been - described as whimsical. Frequently amused and rarely serious, many of his actions seem to have absolutely no logical thread linking them together, and he has often been heard to claim that he sometimes manages to go through entire days without being serious even once. A facet of this, of course, is his habit of being as disproportionately serious about certain unimportant matters - in particular the neatness of his clothes or literary style in one of his books - as he is excessively flippant about those more serious matters to which he pays no heed.

However, behind what he sometimes terms his whimsicalitude, Termat conceals an intelligent and analytical mind and an excellent memory. He reads fast and absorbs what he reads; while he may form an opinion on it, however, that doesn’t tend to come through in his conversation - unless the subject is either inherently lacking in seriousness, in which case he will act as though it were of the greatest import, or his opinion is definite and contentious, a turn of events that will lead to a rare and brief baring of mental steel as he turns the conversation gently but definitely onto a more harmonious path.

His conversation and interests are best described as eclectic; one moment, on a whim, he may shift an entire conversation onto a new path, and he is almost certain to have something to say whatever the topic. Two areas in which he is highly interested are clothes, and food and drink, but he is capable of displaying genuine interest in any topic on which his peers desire to converse, and has a passion - though he would hesitate to describe it as such - for knowledge.

Termat’s sense of humour is almost entirely dry, and he has an apparent desire to appear perpetually amused by the world; his own humour consists of straight-faced yet ridiculous comments or droll observations on a wide range of topics. Alternatively, he acts completely sincere about one of the areas he is knowledgeable in - just a brief burst of seeming seriousness is enough to amuse most who know him in its irony.

Furthermore, he is almost unfailingly polite, just shying short of being pretentious or affected in his manner - when he does spill over the boundary, it is with a wry grin and a subtle irony playing about the corners of his mouth. Even when he is engaged in private conversation about more serious matters, many feel that he does not treat them as being so grave as they are made out to be, and with his scrupulous politeness and formality many who do not know him well suspect that he is mocking them. Those who do know him well know that he is mocking them - especially with his insistence on addressing women, in particular those older than him, as Mrs. or Miss, and on addressing older men as Sir - but affectionately, and as an intrinsic part of his whimsy.

Overall, his comportment tends towards the impeccable; he is always bathed, smartly dressed, and polite; his language is likewise suitable for the ears of even the most delicate ladies, a result, as so much of his character is, of his upbringing. He is not, however, above strong words now and then; however, they tend to be private and heavily provoked. His chivalry, it must be said, cannot stand mistreatment of women, and if he hears men being rude, coarse or disrespectful in front of ladies he is apt to ask them to step outside so, in the words of his father, he can “knock them down”.

Strengths and Weaknesses

Strengths:

Intelligent - Termat has a good understanding of mathematics, history, and various other areas of interest, and is capable of reading and absorbing information quickly. Likewise, he has little difficulty in assimilating new ideas and is always ready to think about them.

Polite - Termat’s near-impeccable manners and debonair attitude make social occasions and conversation a pleasure, and contribute to his being widely liked. In addition, his chivalry endears him, for the most part, to ladies who appreciate being accorded the respect he has been brought up to see as their due - although this can lead to conflict with less tolerant folk. He has seemingly endless control of his emotions, and can watch with only gentle amusement as others become hot under the collar.

Young and Fit - While Termat is no paragon of manliness, he is a young man in the prime of his life, and leads an active life; what’s more, the Avennorians are not weaklings, and he is able to run for some time and throw a punch should the need arise. He has the compact build of his tribe, and while he lacks the vast muscles of many warriors, he is more than strong enough for everyday life.

Cutlass - He brings with him his great-grandfather’s cutlass; he has no real training in its use, but as a child did - as all male children do - play at sword-fighting with his brother. He knows at least the basics - that is, which end to hold - and the ideas behind a cutlass in particular, but in a fight would have to rely on his wits and general physical condition above his trained or inborn skill.

Horsemanship - He is a moderately capable horseman, but no expert, and his horses are stabled on his estate rather than following him around. He tends to hire transport when he needs it, rather than worrying about feed and so on.

Wealthy - Termat’s lands, while not vast, are certainly sufficient for his everyday needs and allow him to go through life without working himself either manually or clerically. His expert estate manager gives him the freedom to travel as he will, but most of his money is either reinvested in his lands or saved for his young nephew and niece.

Weaknesses:

Expensive Tastes - While Termat’s dress is not ostentatiously foppish, well-made, smart, and well-fitting clothes made of good material by good tailors are not cheap; likewise, although he is willing to make do with worse, good food and wines are not to be procured except at some expense. Thus, while he is relatively affluent, his purse is not unlimited, and so he may at any moment find himself lacking in ready cash until more funds can be procured.

Whimsicalitude - Termat’s unserious demeanour fools some into regarding him as one who is not to be taken seriously, and his inherent inability to be serious in correct proportion means that he risks alienating more serious types. However, to those who do not understand his humour, he can come across as too dry and thus, despite his lack of seriousness, boring.

Manners - While his manners, he would say, are unexceptionable, some may feel mocked and thus insecure in the face of his studied formality, and take an instant dislike to him. It has to be said that when he has taken a dislike to someone, he is more than capable of allowing it to show by introducing a subliminal impudence into his still-faultless manners. This only infuriates others more, although it is invisible to anyone else unless they are very perceptive or looking out for it.

Apparent Snobbery - To those whose manners are not as studied as his own, or who already feel out of place, Termat can appear to be mocking them for a lack of polish, and his cool amusement is often believed to be directed at them personally; for this reason, his manner is sometimes regarded as stuck-up and derisory.

Sight-Impaired - Although it is only slight, Termat is short-sighted, and has a little trouble seeing things far away without his monocle; even with it, his right eye is still very slightly imperfect.

Chivalrous - Termat’s willingness - nay, need - to act chivalrously towards the fairer sex can lead to him biting off more than he can chew, and coming into conflict with those of a less enlightened outlook. While he would try to defuse the situation, it doesn’t always work out quite right.

HISTORY

History

The Childhood Years; or, An Idyll By Any Other Name

Termat’s family lands lie about thirty strals east of Ravenport, a little south-west of the Auturian woods, and slightly north of the Fields of Aurium. He was born to an old and moderately wealthy family - his father had had the farm from his father, who in turn could trace its possession back beyond his own grandfather - and was the younger of two sons. His older brother was called Fridcolm, and was his senior by three years.

For the first year of his life, Termat and Fridcolm lived a happy and uneventful existence as the popular sons of a widely liked landowner; however, shortly after Termat turned one, disaster entered his life; her name was Methe, and she was his little sister. All of a sudden, Termat and his brother - mature young men of one and four respectively - had to deal with the arrival of a squalling infant sister, capricious and demanding. Despite their lack of regard for her, Methe was always fond of them, and particularly of Termat. Fortunately for them, she soon settled down, and ceased to trouble them for some years.

Through his childhood years, Termat and his brother spent many hours outdoors, in between their lessons; in these lessons, Termat’s whimsical nature was already beginning to shine through, as he played games of wit and wordplay with his tutors. He lost almost invariably, but his talent for light-hearted discussion and only mocking seriousness was developed. It was, and will be, clear to all that his childhood thus far was in no way much less than perfect.

When Termat was about eight, his parents invited several of their friends for dinner, as they were wont to do; however, this particular evening they invited them to come earlier, in order that they might meet Fridcolm and Termat. As the guests began to drink, one of the young men present - a grown son of some friends of Termat’s parents - began talking loudly with a group of other young men and a pair of charming young ladies; suddenly, in his excitement and state of slight inebriation - for he had not been slow in availing himself of the Geirskun’s wine - a coarse oath dropped loudly from his lips.

Termat’s father, by now an old man, looked up with anger and sadness commingled in his eye, and said softly, but with venom, to Termat, “In my younger days, when a man used language like that in front of a lady, another man took him outside and knocked him down. Alas, I am too old, and his peers too cowardly.” Termat looked up at him with understanding in his eyes, and with a smile and a push his father told him to get the two young ladies - who had moved away from the dockside-mouthed oaf - another glass of wine. He invested the small bow with all the knowing irony an eight year old boy is capable of, and refilled their glasses with a smile.

The Growing Years; or, Paradise Lost

Later that year, Termat cut his hand on his great-grandfather’s sword, which hung over the mantelpiece unused - how a small child managed that is a mystery, although he has several absurd theories. His life continued to pass uneventfully until he turned ten; that year, his mother caught a terrible fever, and died within a week, despite the best doctors. Stricken with grief, his father’s health began to deteriorate. By the time Termat was twelve, his father was bedridden and terribly sick, and around Termat’s thirteenth birthday, the old man died. Both sons and his daughter were distraught, but on the insistence of his siblings, Fridcolm married a young lady a couple of years his senior and took over the running of the estate - although their father’s manager was so expert, it was hardly a time-consuming task.

The Latter Years; or, The Men All Good For Nothing

After the usual span of time, Fridcolm’s wife had two children - twins, a boy and a girl. Although they were healthy children, the birth was difficult and she died, exhausted, after delivering the younger, Okvild. Absolutely beside himself with grief, Fridcolm took ship at Ravenport, meaning to travel down to Lorehaven to explore the idea of a better grain to harvest.

While he was away - the trip took far longer than was necessary, and lasted over a year - Termat and Methe attended an event much like those that had been hosted by their parents. Termat dressed in the same smart, restrained way as his father had, but developed to an individual ideal; his sister, however, was gloriously arrayed in a gown of the finest silks and her jewels shone like her bright blue eyes.

Termat was charming, whimsical, and light-hearted; his sister was simply radiant. Termat was witty, polite, and wry; Methe merely shone like a vision from above. From behind him, however, Termat heard a lewd chuckle and a whisper: “Pretty dress. I bet she’s hiding something even prettier underneath it.” He excused himself politely, but with just the tiniest edge of ice in his voice; his sister looked at him quizzically, but he was already gone, asking the offending young gentleman to please come with him. No, there was no need for his friend to come. Yes, he would be quick. No, it wasn’t too far.

It was not far and it was quick. Just outside the back door, Termat turned to the offending party and, with only a “Please don’t talk like that about a lady again, especially not my sister” for a lead-in, hit him full in the face, just below the left cheekbone.

Termat was not puny, and he had slipped back inside before the supposed gentleman had got to his feet. Asked what he had been doing by his sister, he replied dryly “Raising the tone”. When the culprit returned, slightly purpled on one side of his face, Termat gave him a cheery smile and raised a glass, before deciding that this was insufficient; he leapt onto a step and called out good-humouredly, “Ladies and gentlemen, a toast! In honour of my close friend,” - a gesture - “to good manners and better taste!” He looked directly at him, and with a cheery smile and a wink drained his glass and hopped down.

The Final Years; or, Till Death Do Us Depart

In the year that Termat turned seventeen, Fridcolm made another trip to Lorehaven - he was now making these journeys regularly, and Termat believed that he was...consoling...himself with certain unmarried ladies. Termat also began to suspect that Fridcolm had no plans to provide for Methe’s marriage, and this was confirmed when he found a letter in which a potential suitor told Fridcolm that his refusal to grant anything towards a marriage meant that his sister would go un-wooed for some time. His two children, Termat’s and Methe’s niece and nephew, were now adorable young children; but after a few months, rather than Fridcolm, a messenger arrived at their door, bearing the news that their brother and father had died at sea when the ship was caught in a storm. As his niece and nephew were far too young to inherit the estate, Termat became de facto owner; however, he spoke to the estate manager and authorised him to invest as much of the profits of the farm as he could back into improving it, allow his sister to spend what she needed, and keep the rest locked away for his niece and nephew to use when they came of age.

A month after the news had arrived, Termat packed his travelling cases with clothes and - because it was shiny and probably a vaguely sensible idea - his great-grandfather’s cutlass, gave final instructions to the estate manager, told his niece and nephew - still thankfully too young to comprehend death - to behave themselves and not to give Methe too much trouble, kissed his sister goodbye, and took a carriage into Ravenport, where he bought a new cravat and had his shoes mended. After attending to these few requirements, he left the city; where he was to go he did not know, but he hoped it would be at least moderately cheery. And wine. He was looking forward to a glass of good wine.
 
ACCESSORIES

Weapons

He carries with him - though he does not, as a matter of course, wear - his great-grandfather’s cutlass.

Belongings

Apart from his clothes and cutlass, Termat has a fair amount - usually - of money, as well a small writing desk - a sloping box with a smooth lid, holding inside it pen, paper and ink. He usually has in his pockets both his watch and his monocle, and also a small cloth for cleaning their screens.

He also has in his chests a small selection of cravat pins - for more elaborate knots, or as a nod towards ornamentation - as well as a bound journal in which he jots down his more unusual thoughts; that is, when the fancy takes him.
« Last Edit: February 06, 2012, 04:54:19 AM by Altario Shialt-eck-Gorrin » Logged

Irid alMenie
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« Reply #1 on: February 05, 2012, 06:53:26 PM »

Teehee, I like him! He's in general somewhat more victorian than medieval, but then I have one of those myself so you won't hear me complain :)

I do not foresee any immediate trouble to get Termat approved, but I will check with my fellow moderators :)

In any case, a very well-written CD!
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Stat rosa pristina nomine, nomina nuda tenemus.
Irid al'Menie
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« Reply #2 on: February 06, 2012, 12:48:42 AM »

Naturally an excuse to increase the general whimsicalitude of the boards...  Roll Eyes

A well-written CD! The only mistake I saw (no suicides allowed!) is that Lyth’be should be Lýth’bél. Just add an "l" at the end and you're fine.

Otherwise, perfect.   ;)
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Termat Geirskun
Debonair Gentleman
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Human, Avennorian


« Reply #3 on: February 06, 2012, 01:03:50 AM »

Naturally...

I'll do that, and unless the board throttles me, I should survive. It can be vaguely vicious, however. I seem to recall that the Colours entry says Lyth'be?

It does, it appears.

Lyth’be Pollen
Possibly from the honey-coloured lythien moss which covers much of Northern Sarvonia, but etymologically closer to ‘lýth’bél’, the common acidic but tasty garden fruit.

Does that want to be raised as a mistake?

Anyway, I think perfect is very flattering of you. I'm quite overwhelmed at such praise from two such distinguished people. *Bows to stay IC*

Termat

I realised my name sounds like Fermat...not intended, I assure you.
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Altario Shialt-eck-Gorrin
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« Reply #4 on: February 06, 2012, 01:19:49 AM »

Do we have pocket watches?  Is this a gnome thing?  Just jumps out at me as fairly modern.

BTW, just a question on my part.  The CD is very well written, and I'm not looking to hold it back on this point. :D  I can see it getting a quick approval.
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Favorite Cartoon Quotes
"It was a dark and stormy night."  - Snoopy
"Ack!" - Bill the Cat
"I did not have sex with that woman, Monica Lewinski." - President Bill Clinton

My Character can be viewed @Angelina Jolie's house.  But knock first, in case I'm in my underwear.
Leif Terskun
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« Reply #5 on: February 06, 2012, 01:24:58 AM »

My understanding is that hobbits make watches. Correct me if I'm wrong.

EDIT: They do. Just be be sure we're on one page here, it's mechanical, based around cogs, large(ish) and does not have a digital display. I hope. That would be a bit too surreal.
« Last Edit: February 06, 2012, 01:26:59 AM by Leif Terskun » Logged

Words convey knowledge; knowledge is power; thus power lies in words
Leif Terskun
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« Reply #6 on: February 06, 2012, 01:38:09 AM »

As I'm no Hobbit expert, I will take your word on the matter. :D

As two Mods have expressed very little in the way of critique, if you have addressed the comments, I will get this CD titled.


Congrats. Thumb up
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Favorite Cartoon Quotes
"It was a dark and stormy night."  - Snoopy
"Ack!" - Bill the Cat
"I did not have sex with that woman, Monica Lewinski." - President Bill Clinton

My Character can be viewed @Angelina Jolie's house.  But knock first, in case I'm in my underwear.
Termat Geirskun
Debonair Gentleman
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Posts: 45


Human, Avennorian


« Reply #7 on: February 06, 2012, 01:44:18 AM »

I've changed Lyth'be to Lýth’bél; any more for any more?

Thank you Mr. Shialt-eck-Gorrin, and to the lovely ladies.

Felicitations.

I like that word.
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Altario Shialt-eck-Gorrin
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« Reply #8 on: February 06, 2012, 04:57:49 AM »

Titled  Thumb up
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Favorite Cartoon Quotes
"It was a dark and stormy night."  - Snoopy
"Ack!" - Bill the Cat
"I did not have sex with that woman, Monica Lewinski." - President Bill Clinton

My Character can be viewed @Angelina Jolie's house.  But knock first, in case I'm in my underwear.
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