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Author Topic: Accepted Player Description and Contact Details  (Read 8031 times)
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Altario Shialt-eck-Gorrin
Offline Offline

Gender: Male
Posts: 7034

Human, Remusian

« on: March 02, 2009, 12:15:35 PM »

In this thread, a quick overview of you character, and the best way to get a hold of you.

Altario Shialt-eck-Gorrin
Garret Arroway*
Grallen Gast
Lili the Elfcat
Toama Sor'inyt

Lyth Elstrum**

* temporarily inactive, to various degrees
** left the story
« Last Edit: June 09, 2010, 04:32:34 PM by Drustai » Logged

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.
Altario Shialt-eck-Gorrin
Offline Offline

Gender: Male
Posts: 7034

Human, Remusian

« Reply #1 on: March 02, 2009, 12:20:25 PM »

Best way to contact me is by PM.  CD in Sig, but posted here as well.  (peer pressure)

Name: Altario Shialt-eck-Gorrin (Altario Golden Shield in the ancient tongue)

Gender: Male

Age: 35

Race: Human

Tribe: Remusian

Occupation: Land Holder

Title: Adventurer

Appearance: Having been adventuring for the last few months, and not wanting to draw attention to himself, Altario has taken to wearing common, everyday clothing.  These include; tanned leather breeches, a baggy cloth shirt, hardened leather boots, and a tanned leather jacket.  Most of his clothing has been patched, rather poorly, by himself

Height: 1 Ped, 2 Fores, 1 Palmspan

Weight: 1 Pygges, 7 Hebs

Hair Colour: Black with hints of grey at the ears

Eye Colour: Grey

Physical Appearance: Altario is an impressive man, tall with a large chest, though not muscular.  In fact, he appears a little gaunt, though he is quite healthy, mostly due to his privileged upbringing.  What mostly catches other's attention is that he exudes a strength and confidence, and will always look you in the eye. He has that innate aura of someone who has always been in control of his environment, though the lines around his eyes and the little areas of grey hair at his ears betray the fact that this is no longer the case. 

Altario has cold grey eyes that are quite piercing.  He is handsome, but in a mature, weathered way.  When he smiles, somewhat more uncommon than in days previous, dimples appear on both sides of his mouth.  He has a wide scar on his left forearm, a souvenir of a battle long ago.  His black hair falls to his shoulders, longer than he would normally wear it, but the rigors of the road have forestalled any attempt to cut it.  It is kept neat, though, as is the two day growth of beard that adorns his face. Altario sometimes walks with a limp, mostly on cold early mornings, depending on how his right knee feels, as old age is beginning to creep up behind him.

Personality: The cliche “strong silent type” was invented for people like Altario.  He is not one for small talk and prefers to only voice an opinion when it matters most.  Although not officially belonging to any group of knights, he has a strong sense of honour that he adheres to.  It is this honour that keeps him going when his mind and body beg for rest.  Though a born leader, he now prefers to keep a low profile, and tends to act as adviser.  He remembers what it is like to laugh and be happy, though he has found no reason to in many months.  Sullen would be too strong a word, whereas distant would be more appropriate.

------ Altario is an educated, intelligent man.  He can read and write, though he speaks no languages other than his native Ice Tribe language and Tharian.

----- Altario is very competent with sword and shield, as well as a lance.  He can also handle a bow, though only somewhat better than average.

---- Altario is the son of a wealthy landowner in his homeland, thus he has access to funds by producing promissory notes to elites almost anywhere within the lands of the Ice Tribes.  His reputation is beyond reproach and his need for money is minimal, so he usually has no trouble getting money if he needs it, as well as food and a roof over his head.  He is extremely careful not to over use this advantage, and in fact, prefers to keep his wealth to himself.

--- Altario was raised around horses, and is an excellent horseman.

----Altario, being from a wealthy home, fits in well with the elite society, and is quite at home there.

----- Altario is on a quest to find his 14 year old daughter, Nayriss.  This is what drives him.  However, it makes him somewhat noncommittal in his dealings with others.  This can germinate into a trust issue, as his priority is now, and always will be, his search for Nayriss.

---- Altario is haunted by the memory of his wife, Riztalyana, who died 8 years ago.  She appears to him in dreams; sometimes offering confusing portents to the future. This makes him agitated, due to the insomnia and vagueness of the dreams, and is a strain on his sanity, leading to bouts of depression.

--- Altario's personal tragedies have caused him to leave his estate, and have expressed themselves in bouts of depression, manifesting itself in drinking binges and gambling, providing he has the money earned from adventuring.

-- His quiet nature, coupled with his commanding presence is often mistaken for haughtiness.  This often puts people ill at ease around him who do not know him.

- Altario does not make close relationships.  He tends to be an outsider, with no real enemies, but no one that would call him “friend”.

---Because he was raised as a landowner, Altario sometimes finds it difficult, if not downright annoying, to deal with "peasants".  Likewise, he finds it difficult to treat other races as equals to him, as he has battled with most of them at some point or another.

----Altario distrusts all temples and clerics because of the secrets that Sebastian kept from him.  As well, he distrusts all types of magic, as where he came from they had been laid waste to for many years by magic.  These are types of racist feelings that he has found difficult to overcome.

---Altario has begun to feel the effects of age, and his right knee is beginning to stiffen on him, especially in the mornings, or after riding for long periods of time.  Cold weather also brings on the stiffness.

History:  Altario Shialt-eck-Gorrin, Altario Golden Shield in the ancient tongue, is the older of two boys born to Johkbar Shialt-eck-Gorrin, a wealthy landowner in Remusiat, at the northern edge of the Heath of Wilderon.  Their estate was known as Urimpaar, and they raised horses that were often sold to the army.  This estate had been in their family for countless generations, from the first patriarch, Teletar, of whom legends recount tales of him fighting with a Golden Shield. Being heir, Altario had a childhood that was spent learning to rule.  He was tutored 8 hours a day by a score of scholars, and trainers.  As a child, Altario was a quick study, and excelled at his lessons, making his tutors, and his father, very proud.

Though close to his younger brother, the wild and impetuous Denrykmar, Altario was secretly jealous of his younger sibling's freedom.  While he was given little freedom between his lessons, Denrykmar was allowed considerable latitude.  When their parents died from plague when he was only 16, Altario became head of the household, and his responsibilities lent him limited time for himself, which drove him and Denrykmar apart. 

At age 18, Altario met the beautiful Riztalyana, and the two fell instantly in love.  She was a young cleric, a healer that was being trained in a temple not far from Urimpaar.  A year later, Altario’s daughter, Nayriss, was born in a tough birth that nearly cost both mother and daughter their lives.   

Immediately after Nayriss’ birth, Altario served his country during the Fifth Orcish War.  Serving with distinction, he proved a capable leader, and a fine strategist.  When the war ended, Altario returned to Urimpaar, which had miraculously escaped the carnage unscathed.

For the next few years they led an uneventful but very happy life together, and when Nayriss turned 6, Sebastian, the cleric who had been most responsible for training Riz, insisted that Nayriss enter schooling at the temple.  Though hesitant, Altario could not dissuade Riz, who had sided with Sebastian, and the young girl went to train to become a cleric.  Shortly after, Riz died while giving birth to their son, who died days later as well.  Altario was devastated.  Following Riztalyana’s wishes, Nayriss continued her education at the temple. 

It was then that Denrykmar left Urimpaar, the family home, preferring the solitude that life as a ranger granted.  Altario has not seen him since, and only knew that Denrykmar was alive from the occasional promissory note that would come in for petty amounts of money.

The years passed without incident until 8 months ago.  After coming home for a visit, Nayriss was kidnapped while on her return trip to the temple.  There was no ransom demand, however, and it was then that Altario garnered the truth from Sebastian.  Nayriss was becoming a healer of substantial talent, able to call forth the power of the gods.  Altario learned that Riztalyana had also had exceptional skills.  It was in Sebastian's opinion that dark forces had taken Nayriss, though he had no answer for why. 

In the intervening months, Altario had been in search of Nayriss, following any clues to her whereabouts though, for the most part, the clues all led nowhere.  The last clue, given to him from a former ranger he had known in the war, had mentioned that she was in Santharia, in a province called Vardynn.  More precisely, in a town called Jernais.  So it is there that Altario now travels in his search.

Altario’s despair has begun to manifest itself in drinking and gambling.  As well, in his dreams, Riztalyana has begun to visit him, urging him in his quest.  He will never give up looking for her, and will scour the world over until he finds her.  He sometimes joins with others in quests to earn his keep.  He prefers to keep his identity known to only a few, as he does not want Nayriss’ captors to learn of his whereabouts.

Weapons: Altario keeps a dagger with him, once encrusted with gems, though long since pried out and used for money when his drinking and gambling had been excessive and unlucky.   His only other piece of equipment that is worth anything is the longsword he keeps always strapped to his hip.  It is the symbol of Urimpaar; his fathers elegant weapon, exquisitely crafted and etched, perfectly balanced for killing.  For hunting, he carries a rather nondescript bow and a quiver full of arrows. 

Belongings: In his saddlebags, he carries his equipment; a flint and steel, a sewing needle and thread, dried meat, a sharpening stone, and a change of clothes, finer than those he currently wears.  His horse has a worn but fine quality saddle, saddle blanket, bit, bridle and reins.  He carries a rope tied to the saddle, and a large cloth sack that holds his shield with family crest; a silver lightning strike across a black background.  He keeps it hidden except when a show of importance is required, but has a battle worn shield strapped to the horse that he uses when needed.  A waterskin hangs from the saddle.

Familiars: Altario rides a strong chestnut gelding, which he has taken to calling Horse, as he has gone through five horses so far in his quest.  It is a good horse, but in no way special.

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« Last Edit: March 14, 2009, 06:45:09 PM by Talia Sturmwind » Logged

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.
Garret Arroway
The Wolfling
Story Mod
Offline Offline

Gender: Female
Posts: 1061

Human, Kyranian

« Reply #2 on: March 02, 2009, 12:42:30 PM »

Contact Information
     PM - Garret Arroway
     IRC - Garret
     Yahoo Messenger - jordy_3491
     Email -

Note: Garret's aged 13 years. Most information in CD, changes in age, overview, apperance, and familiar to be found below and linked in Sig.

Basic Information
     Name: Garret Arroway
     Gender: Male
     Age: 31
     Race: Human
     Tribe: Kyranian
     Occupation: Researcher / Scout / Mercenary
     Title: The Wolfling

     Overview: Not a lot has changed in Garret in the fifteen years since he left home, though he's learned to accept his past a bit more and avoids dwelling on things, rather choosing to look forward instead of back. As much as he hates to admit it, he's getting older, though only the slightly aged cast to his boyish face and sprinkling of grey in his thin beard show this. He's still rather fit, spending a good deal of his time chasing after all sorts of domestic and vicious canines for scholars in New Santhala, though he's still always on the look out for some grand adventure.

     Height: 2 peds, 6 nailsbreadths
     Weight: 2 pygges, 5 hebs, 1 od, 3 muts
     Eye Color: Dark Grey
     Hair Color: Light Brown Hair with Blond Streaks
     Main Hand: Left

     Physical Appearance: Many would name him a giant. He stands tall over others at six nailsbreadths over two peds. While no longer considered young, Garret still has less than a mut of fat on his body from constantly being on the move and living and working in the great outdoors. Even though he is starting to get older, he's retained the body of his youth, still fit and in good condition. His long legs are sturdy like the rest of him, still toned from keeping pace with a wolf most days, even though Shadowfoot is beginning to show his age. Long arms are powerful and toned from sword work and his large, strong hands could break walnuts. His skin is a deep bronze in coloring from all the time he spends outside. While more weathered and aged, he still a boyish cast to his face, though his age is showing though the thin, brownish beard that hugs his jaw and upper lip, sprinkled with silvery-grey strands.

     Over the years his overall appearance hasn't changed much. His soft, light brown hair is still streaked with dark blond from constant exposure to the sun and cut typical of for the youth of his tribe in times past. The front is cut just above his ears, long enough to fall into his eyes, while the sides and then back is a bit longer, the latter long enough to cover most of his neck. During the times that he is just wandering around, he allows his hair to fall around his face and most of the times his straight locks have a windswept look to him, while the rest of the time it just looks a mess. When in battle or when he is aggravated by his hair constantly falling into his face, he will tie a strip of leather around his head to keep his hair at bay. The rest of the time that strip if wrapped around his left wrist.

     Soft, youthful eyes of dark grey peered from beneath thick brows. Eyes almost black filled with uncountable emotions. While his eyes still tell a lot about him, they shine with a glint of mischief and laughter, more so now than in his youth as he's learned to look forward at the things to come instead of dwelling on the past. Despite the grey in his beard, the youthful spark in his eyes make it hard for others to judge his age. When he is worries his eyes will grow darker, while he never has noticed this though eventually someone will probably point it out. Small scars can be found over his arms, legs, and chest, but it is his back that tells the story of his life.

     Long white scars where a leather belt had torn the soft skin multiple times cover his back. At the nape of his neck he has the Kyranian Coat of Arms, a black stag head and a star-gem between the antlers, tattooed. Also, he has a small wolf tattoo inked in black on the back of his left shoulder, the reason for his troubles.

     Name: Shadowfoot
     Gender: Male
     Age: 15 years
     Species: Wolf
     Type: Mithral

     Height: 2 fores, 2 palmspans, 5 nailsbreadths
     Length: 2 peds, 4 nailsbreadths
     Weight: 1 pygge, 3 hebs

     Appearance: Only in the last half a year or so has this wolf begun to show his age as he is considered old compared to the life-span of most wolves in the world, though living amongst man is bound to add a few years to ones life. Aside from the worn, greyish-white hairs around his muzzle and face, and the slightly slower pace he keeps on a day to day basis, this animal, like his owner still shows few signs of getting old.

     Personality/Temperament: While still often as playful as a pup, Garret notices that Shadowfoot has finally begun to settle down, preferring to lounge by his feet when indoors instead of exploring or attempting to keep his human's attention. Even though he is more trusting of people, there are only a few that he will allow to pet him, preferring the attention of his companion for the last fifteen years and those whose scent he remembers. Those he doesn't know as well he will avoid, veering around them to return to Garret's side, watching his human's back for anything he deems danger.

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« Last Edit: March 14, 2009, 06:45:44 PM by Talia Sturmwind » Logged

Before you kill him, think of what you take from him. Remember what it is to be alive.
Quote: Robin Hobb
Valannia Incendarious
« Reply #3 on: March 03, 2009, 01:54:16 PM »

Contact Information
     PM - Valannia Incendarious
     IRC - Twen
     Yahoo Messenger - pherryn_feybranche
     Email -

Name: Valannia Incendarious (Roughly Translated: The Dreaming Inferno)

Occupation: Knight of Foiros (Thamasár Artajoriás: Flames of Honour.)

Gender: Female

Hair Color: A rich golden, but sun bleached to a radiant platinum from centuries in the light of Foiros

Eye Color: Glimmering Uderza

Age: 233

Age by appearence: 24 / Has the skills and training of a human 36 years of age, though more in depth.

Approximate lifespan: 600

Height: One Ped, Two Fores, Four Nailsbreadths (A bit small for her race and tribe. 5’7”)

Weight: 115 Od

Race: Elf

Tribe: Quaelhoirhim (Pure-blood)

Title: Elven Knight

Valannia appears to be about twenty-four years old in human years (Her small stature lending to a much more youthful appearance.). An aura of tranquility radiates about her, a supple maelstrom rolling in the depths of uderza eyes, giving only a hint at the fiery soul within. Her youthful face bronzed from over two centuries of apprenticeship in the name of Foiros, each day worshiping him at the rise and set of Injèrá.

Once extensive golden hued tresses cascaded to near her lap yet currently have been trimmed to a higher than shoulder cut. These locks have become sun-bleached over the centuries turning them into a light platinum. This style became a necessity when facing strong opponents, a lesson learned at almost the cost of her life. The foremost reason for this style is because an orc had used it as a hand hold to flail Val about, knocking her unconscious, then leaving her for dead.

Each of the knight’s steps is fluid and dexterous from decades upon dance floors of manors, warm nights spent in revelry and extensive training as a combatant. Valannia’s elegance and poise in many halls and on battlefields is legendary in some lands. More than a small number of elven lords would be honored to get the graceful knightess unaccompanied upon a dance floor.

She wears very modest to no jewelry as such ornaments have a way of vanishing in warfare. Each of her elven ears have been pierced five times with silvery studs, in succession from each earlobe to the tips of each ear. Val also wears a plain silver necklace with the emblem of Foiros upon it as an adornment; this is frequently tucked under her shirt and armor. She would wear any jewelry but through the years most gifts of this type have fallen to rest upon distant pathways and battlefields.

A matching set of blades are hung from a studded, well-built, thin leather belt about Valannia's tiny waist. The identical twin swords, BrambleFang & Shadowmar are an alloy of mithril and herne ore, giving them a distinct greenish grey hue. Their forms reminding one of an outstretched birds wing. The overall length of the blades is near a ped, with concentric rings engraved upon their surfaces. The guards are designed with a complex pattern of interlocking rings and sprigs of ivy, that cover Val’s tiny hands in almost a full bell style. The grips of the swords are wrapped with leather dyed nor'sidian, having an outline of golden rings and crawling ivy sewn into them. The pommel is a gleaming urmarillion ring with herne green sprigs of ivy engraved upon the surface of it.The identical blades are fine ventures in what can be accomplished by means of dwarven determination and elven magic. The blades firmly sheathed in scabbards of a herne green hue, the code of her knighthood (In Styrash) is engraved with gold upon each. Both of these weapons have been at Valannia's side for most of her life. They are also a few of the items left to the knightess in her mothers passing and are rarely, if ever, not at the elf's side.

A form-fitting suit of nor'sidian elven chain mail rests over her petite shoulders, each link covered in a sound sedating resin. Armored plates over shoulders and running the full length of petite arms, does little to hide the fragile yet beautiful form underneath. Each plate made from a herne green hued metal being very reminiscent of shadowed leaves at sunset. Those upon her shoulders are engraved in gold with the code of her knighthood. (In Tharian: Written in the tongue of man so those amongst many races could read it.).

Skintight leather breeches, herne green in color, coat lithe legs and then flare over the top of calf high, nor’sidian leather boots. The bottoms of the flared breeches ending just above the sole of each black boot in a relaxed fit. Frail hands are marred by multiple scars from battles since gone. Valannia's palms are well calloused from decades of weaponry training, yet a nimbleness in them belies these years of abuse. A bandolier with a dozen well-crafted knives rests over Val's left shoulder and runs across bosom to her eloquent waistline on the right.

In such places that the wares of her order are inappropriate she wears an uderza blue dress. The silken dress is also woven with bits of silvery fabric, inspiring the illusion of flowing water over the clothes surface. The gown is cut low in the back revealing the flawless lightly tanned skin beneath. At such times nor’sidian, low-cut leather boots are worn over nimble feet. The bandolier of knives now separated into two pieces, one piece strapped to each thigh. Just in case a need for self-defense should arise in civil areas like these.

Val's demeanor is teeming with happiness only complimented more so by the spriteful smile upon her full crimson lips. Valannia speaks with assurance, conviction, confidence and forth righteousness towards the individuals that heed the elfess. The confidence is more subdued lately, since she has been alone and in foreign lands

A warmer and more caring soul is hard to find, for Val gives all sentient creatures the identical playing field when first met. Greeting most people with a gracious smile, a kind word or just idle chatter, she uses this time to size up a person.  To those that catch her interest, she launches into a long rhetoric of questions. Not so much prying but only expressing a deep desire to understand the vast cultures in the new lands she travels.

In the midst of true friends, Valannia's demeanor melts away quickly to that of what she truly is. A youthful elf at heart, having a fanciful almost juvenile sense of humor. Never truly stone faced, unless she is up to a bit of mischief, her smile is an ever present aspect on the elf's visage. Still many never befriend the knight long enough to see the prankster within, the trappings of her order keeping most at a distance.

An overriding sense of morality often permeates from her words. She believes in the code of the elven knighthood to the very depths of her soul and this sometimes makes the elfess bullheaded when allies do not follow it. Here following is a brief summary of the code.

The Code of Chivalry
1. Life: Live ones life so that it is worthy of respect and honor. Life is for liberty, virtue, freedom and all that is good.
2. Righteousness: Never attack an unarmed foe with a weapon. Never use a weapon on an adversary not equal to the attack. Never charge an unhorsed opponent with a lance. Never attack from behind. Avoid deceit. Fight persecution.
3. Dignity: Exhibit strength of will. Show reverence to authority. Obey all laws if they do not supersede the rights of life. Administer justice and mercy. Shelter the innocent.
4. Courage: Display bravery in word and deed. Protect the weak and innocent. Fight for an ideal, like freedom. Fight with honor. Avenge the wronged. Never abandon a friend, ally or noble cause.
5. Honor: Forever maintain one’s word of honor. Always uphold one’s values. Never deceive a confidence or comrade. Avoid deception. Respect life. Honor all life. Respect all views of life.
6. Civility: Demonstrate etiquette. Be gracious and conscientious. Be courteous of host and honor.
7. Faithfulness: To one’s principals and heart. To one’s friends and those that lay their confidence in thee. To the code of chivalry.

1 suit of plated elven chain mail (More detailed overview to be found in the description section.)
2 glorious blades Named: Bramblefang & Shadowmar--They are fully described in her descryption section.
1 backpack containing a week’s provision of way bread and a comparable amount of water in a canteen.
1 bandolier with a dozen well crafted knives and 2 small compartments filled with painkilling herbs.
2 pairs of boots Described above.
1 dress that is described above.
1 pair of herne green breeches
1 set of brass knuckles a weapon of necessity with her lack of strength in unarmed combat.
1 Voluptuous and flowing cloak also nor’sidian black in color, trimmed in gold about the edges in the pattern of flowing ivy.
1 Tower shield strapped to Lostrams side. The face a herne green in color, the edges lined with an urmarillion hued ivy pattern similar to that upon her cloak. An urmarillion hued ring also wrapped in golden ivy representing faith long ago given to Foiros fills the remaining surface of the mantle.
2 saddle bags upon Lostram: One with a hearty supple of dried berries, fruits and nuts that Valannia often snacks upon. While the other is filled with grain and oats, enough to keep Lostram healthy but not well fed for near a week.
2 complete sets of horseshoes, each of them filed down to a near razor sharp edge. They lend the warhorse more impact against heavily armored foes that have found their paths crossing him in battle.
1 set of arm blades. The blades are a deep xazure in hue and the blade reinforcements are herne green with golden griffons in flight engraved upon them. To add more effectiveness to these in a combat situation the normal handgrips have been replaced with wrist braces. Basically this allows Valannia to have both hands free to wield melee weapons for extended reach. (These are only worn when traveling on foot or when engaged as a foot soldier.)
30 Ped of silken rope and grappling hook this is latched to the outside of Valannia's backpack.
2 silky loose fitting blouses one uderza blue in color and the other struine.

1 Kel’vor stallion, a birthday present to her from her brother Thauramarth four summers ago, Lostram was raised from a foal with Valannia upon his back. The two know each other so well that in combat they move almost as one. Standing just over a stout 6 fores high at the shoulder and near 252 hebs in weight, Lostram is an impressive beast to behold in his plate barding. (The barding is done in the same gold and herne green motif as the aforementioned tower shield.)

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« Last Edit: March 14, 2009, 06:46:12 PM by Talia Sturmwind » Logged
grallen gast
Softly Smiling Scoundrel
Offline Offline

Posts: 385

Orc, Ashz-Oc

« Reply #4 on: March 07, 2009, 02:11:09 AM »

contact info: pm me, either as Fionn, Seth Ghibta, or Grallen, i'm around most evenings, unless i'm not. if you can't get hold of me that way, my e-mail is .
my CD is in my sig, but here's an abbreviated version.
Name: Grallen Gast, also known as Smiler.

Gender: Female

Species: Orc

Tribe:  Ashz-Oc

Title: Softly Smiling Scoundrel

Age: 17

Height: Approximately one and a half peds.

Appearance: Small and fine featured enough to pass for a dark, harsh featured human, given a good light and a disguise, Grallen is not a conventionally attractive orc maiden, as far as orcs go in for physical beauty. Her dark olive-green skin forms a fitting backdrop for lamp-like eyes, round and lightning yellow, with pupils smaller than average. Her mouth is unusually full-lipped, but the pigment of her skin gives them an almost purplish pallor, with protruding teeth often visible, especially when she smiles, which she does a lot. Her sharply pointed ears poke through a nest of wild, green-black hair, straight and long and always falling over her face, as a kind of permanent mask. She wears a variety of clothing, usually including a heavy leather jacket, with a hood or a hat to help conceal her identity. For an orc, she seems to be unusually interested by clothes, though her attire is rarely flamboyant or particularly feminine.


Species: As she is of a race rarely encountered by Southerners, and surrounded by a nebula of rumour and misinformation, Grallen has scope for commanding considerable respect, particularly among the criminal underworld she inhabits. People meeting her for the first time often don’t know what to expect, giving her a degree of freedom in her actions perhaps not afforded to better understood races.

Cunning: Being intelligent, and exposed to many of the worst aspects of humanity, Gast has developed all the qualities needed to excel in a hostile world – she is a very good liar, naturally suspicious, and skilled at reading people quickly. Easily and subtly manipulative but sensible enough to know when to cut her losses and leave well alone, she is arguably a perfect study of the criminal mind.

Martial Skills: Grallen’s natural strength, speed, and sharp teeth give her the physical capability to be a deadly warrior, but what makes her truly accomplished is the steep learning curve she was forced to adopt as a slave and a denizen of the criminal underworld of Santharia (see History). Battling for her life against similarly desperate individuals taught her to fight dirty, whilst her ferocious temper, should she lose control of it, adds an extra element of sheer viciousness that gives her a fair chance against almost anyone she might meet. In fighting, as in all things, Grallen likes to be at an advantage, and so she has few qualms about behaviour that could be deemed unsporting by many. But then, as far as she’s concerned, it isn’t a game, or if it was she wouldn’t be playing. 

Weapon Skills: Though she isn’t particularly adept with any particular weapon, Grallen can handle a sword or dagger fairly well, and is something of an expert in making weapons out of more everyday objects. Given the choice, she is more likely to reach for a bottle than draw her sword, and uses such weapons with a speed and ruthlessness which has often left more experienced and skilled combatants at significant disadvantage.

Agility: Honed throughout her life, her light build and quick reflexes give Gast a grace and ease of movement even in the tightest situations. She loves to climb, and her fearlessness nature revels in the challenge of getting as high up as she can, as quickly as possible.


Anger: In her eyes, her greatest weakness, Gast’s temper is inherited from a notoriously warlike father, who would have seen her innate ferocity as an admirable quality, and has been reinforced by the various hardships she has endured growing up alone. However, in a land which looks unfavourably on thieves and orcs, and without the mental discipline to control it, Gast has to battle with her instincts of violence, and lives in fear of losing. Should it get the better of her, she attacks callously and efficiently, uncaring who she kills or maims, unheeding of her own injuries, often only stopped when she exhausts herself. The strain of remaining calm can cause her to act irrationally, her mind filled with the relentless roar for blood, for revenge, for death.

Profession: Not only is thieving illegal, but her “customers” tend to take exception to her services. Gast would acknowledge if pressed that she tends to take unnecessary risks, and so often ends up on the run – she may enjoy the rush of being chased, but the fact is that it’s only fun because they might catch her, something that would almost certainly be deleterious to her health –
Race: There is a flip side to being seen as an evil brutish orc, and that is that you are seen as an evil brutish orc, a breed of person not usually welcomed in polite company. As a result, she has to disguise her appearance, and nonetheless her pointed ears and yellow eyes are treated with suspicion by those predisposed to hate or fear orcs.

Cynicism: Grallen has led a hard life, facing violence, exploitation and exclusion on an almost daily basis from an early age. Subsequently, she is used to things being against her, and treats life with an ironic cynicism, verging on fatalism when she is unhappy. Those she knows are used to this, but others find her manner upsetting or rude. Seeing the world in such a grim light can cause her to overlook possible opportunities, and makes her prone to gloominess and even depression. She occasionally drinks a lot, and becomes violent when drunk, a danger to herself and others, but mainly others.

Hands: During the fire that killed Lucien (see History), Grallen burnt her hands and wrists quite badly. Though the injury was largely superficial, and could have been considerably worse, it has left her with pale, waxy-looking scarring all over her hands. It isn’t something that she allows to affect her, but it makes her slightly less dextrous, and less sensitive to touch, in some areas of her hands.

Breathing: The fire, possibly in conjunction with spending too much time in damp alleyways and smoky taverns, also left her with some damage to her lungs, which tends to resurface in particularly smoky, dusty or congested atmospheres. In cold, clean air she is fine, but her breathing tends to become laboured quite quickly if she tries to breathe dirty air. Wood smoke seems especially to aggravate the condition, causing her to cough uncontrollably within a few minutes if she doesn’t move away to a better ventilated space.
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« Last Edit: March 14, 2009, 06:46:34 PM by Talia Sturmwind » Logged

When you’re entirely lacking in conscience or sense of risk, a frog will have to do.
Grallen's CD
The Worrywort
New Santharian

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Gender: Female
Posts: 256

Elf, Kay'rrhem

« Reply #5 on: March 07, 2009, 03:49:56 PM »

You can reach me via PM or at , whichever is easier
My CD is in my sig, but here's the shorter version.

Name: Airyn Lesthos

Age: 135

Age by appearance: 23

Apporoximate lifespan: 700 years

Gender: Female

Race: Elven

Tribe: Kay'rrhem

Height: 1 Ped, 2 Fores, Three Nailsbreadths

Weight: 1 Pygge, 3 Hebs

Occupation: Healer

Airyn is quite a confusing elf, as she has more human traits than she does elven ones. She is kind, but is known to be impish and cheeky at times. The elf hates anything fight-related and is more of a peacekeeper than anything else. She also has a bad habit of worrying about absolutely everything, no matter how small or how large the problem may be.

The elf is very lighthearted and likes to have fun, though she is known to be in the most foul of moods at any given time. As a water mage, her moods, frame of mind and personality can change like the tides of the sea. She is strongly independent, and will resort to attempting to solve problems by herself before seeking assistance, and is also very determined when her mind is set on something.

She has light skin that is the colour of sand, mixed with tints of gold. Her blonde hair, reaching well below her shoulders, curls around her forehead and her cheeks. Airyn’s eyes are the colour of the darkest of green trees in a deep wood. They seem to have an enchanting shine when she smiles and a mischievous glint when she feels audacious. Her cheekbones are set high and are quite thin, forming a small arc in the direction of her eyes. Her sandy-blonde coloured eyebrows form a light curve above her eyes.
Her elven ears are often seen through her thick waves of hair, as she only wears her hair down about her shoulders if she isn't working, or if she has no care for tying it behind her neck. It is mostly worn in a neat plait, tied at the bottom with a coloured ribbon.

Airyn favours long dresses with elbow-length sleeves in natural colours and tones. She doesn’t think highly of patterns or embroidery, but prefers simplicity and elegance. She usually wears a dress with a tight bodice, and a simple belt around the waist. She likes pretty, light coloured sandals, and a long, but thin, black cape that trails down her back.

Airyn’s jewellery is again simple, but appealing. She loves silver chains with pendants of any stone and shape hanging down on her chest. Mostly, these pendants are made from emerald or sapphire, but she sometimes wears a small opal. Her bracelets usually match her necklaces, but no rings are placed on her fingers as she doesn’t want them to be ruined from her working.

Strengths and Weaknesses:
Water Magic Level III – As a skilled water mage, Airyn has taken each and every day to learn the ways of magic and their elements at the Ximax Academy of Magic. As she is a fairly bright student, Airyn passed through the first level of water magic with little struggle. She has good knowledge and understanding of spells and their uses, and also the understanding of magic itself. This strength assists her in her gardening – being able to provide water to plants, in conflict, and to entertain young elves in boring times.

Healing and medicine – When Airyn had returned from Ximax, she noticed one day that her mother was tending to their garden, and watched her with fascination. Airyn asked her about the plants and what each of them does. Briony, Airyn’s mother, only had a small selection of plants in her gardens; just enough to mend scabby knees and common colds. Even so, Airyn asked her grandfather for books on herbs and medicine. He happily found her the texts she was after, thus beginning Airyn’s fascination and skill with medicine.
Airyn uses herbs and plants to tend to the sick children in the city where she lives. Adults often come to her, but whimpering children covered in scrapes and bruises from their escapades into the deep areas of the forest are nearly always crowding her doorstep.

Charm – Airyn has developed an awkward charm in her personality since leaving Ximax, and has the ability to charm visitors or travellers with a few simple words, and the assistance of her pretty appearance. She sometimes uses her magic to assist her in guiding travellers, but finds that she can make friends easily. Airyn has no trouble in striking up a conversation, even if it begins with her tripping over her own feet or walking into something, which happens often.

Ability to Read and Write - In order to participate in lectures and written exams at the Ximax Academy, Airyn had to learn to read and write. This was no trouble, as she believed that these things were important, and wasted no time in learning these skills. Airyn uses these things to communicate with others, and to continue to practice her magic and healing skills.

Fitness/Good Health- Airyn has a good fitness level, and never really finds herself in bad health. She doesn't tire easily, and never has to add her health to her long list of worries.

Boats - During her time spent at Ximax, one of Airyn's human friends decided to show her how to sail. Airyn now knows how to change a sail and how to control a boat's direction and speed.

Determination – Though this trait usually has good outcomes, Airyn an sometimes find herself being determined just to prove a point. At times, she can be very pig-headed, and will continue on a task even though she has been injured by it.

Clumsiness – Quite regularly, Airyn finds that she is constantly walking into things, dropping things and leaving herself with bruises and small scratches by complete accident. This is one of her greatest flaws, as she is known to fumble with things if she does not use them regularly or if she knows that they are of priceless value.

Stutter - Airyn is quite embarrassed to know that she has an awkward habit of stuttering at the most inappropriate of times. Though it doesn't happen every day, whenever Airyn tries to point something out, or merely in simple conversations, she repeats her words or can't find the names of things without making a fool of herself.

Overly Cautious - Airyn is one of those many beings who can't help but worry and fuss over every bad situation. She tends to try to make those around her happier than herself, thus ending in giving her low self-esteem. She is just one of the many that add "what if..." to the end of a sentence. She often keeps herself awake at night by worrying and thinking about anything and everything.

Spellcasting Effect - Though her magical ability is strong, nothing can stop the tiring effect that washes over her after casting even the most simple of spells. Airyn must take some time after casting to rid herself of a small headache, or to wait until the drowsiness or dizziness has passed. This has limited her spellcasting time to three to five minutes, and even less when she is ill or hasn't had the right amount of sleep.

- Two pairs of gloves (One for work and one for wear)
- A small bag of coins
- A bag of food (When travelling) that includes fruit, honey, bread and a small assortment of vegetables
- A book that contains brief details of her lessons on spell casting
- A spare dress
- A light blanket
- A small cutting knife
- A pack of vials and bottles. Some filled with home-made salves, and others filled with raw herbs. She always keeps a small bag filled with Bladeleaf Ferns in this pack.
- Some spellcasting reagents, including bottles of water, stones and (sometimes) ice in a bucket.

Familiar: A young Rimrunner named Sage, who is usually found trailing near Airyn's ankles. He is highly protective and loyal, but is also incredibly stubborn and persistent in geting his own way. Nothing can keep him from running free across an open field, chicken meat, and the spot next to his mistress on the couch.

His hair is almost cream coloured, and is long enough to leave traces of it everywhere. His paws are often muddy or dirty in some way, shape or form, and are often leaving pawprints all over anything he can reach.

Hope that's not too long, I tried to cut some stuff out  :)

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« Last Edit: March 14, 2009, 06:47:01 PM by Talia Sturmwind » Logged

Lili the Elfcat
Endearing Cutthroat
Approved Character
Offline Offline

Gender: Female
Posts: 642

Human, Helvet'ine Kuglimz

« Reply #6 on: March 07, 2009, 08:22:38 PM »

For contact, please send a PM to Fu Luft, whom I've put in charge of my affairs.  ;) Will also pick up PMs to Lili, of course - but maybe not as quickly at times.

I get e-mail notification of PMs to Fu, so it should be just as effective as an actual e-mail.

I'm happy to send my e-mail to any player or mod on request, but I don't want to write it in a public forum. Hope that's acceptable. As an admin, Alt should be able to see my e-mail anyway, and is of course welcome to make use of it.

My CD is in the signature, as is a link to the species description of the bird that's usually perched on Lili's shoulder.

Lili the Elfcat

Gender: Female

Age: 24

Race: Human

Tribe: Helvet'ine Kuglimz

Occupation: Retired Highwaywoman


On first sight, she may strike you as a wealthy lady from the north but that ghastly scar on her left cheek seems to suggest theres something more to her than that. Then again, you may think shes a forest guide of sorts, for now shes talking most knowledgeably about herbs, traps, making a fire in the streaming rain, and her fight with that bear. But she wont tell you which forest shes from, and anyway, why would a bush ranger wear those garish clothes? After a while, you may conclude that shes as mad as a flitter-twitch; in any case, that would explain how she puts up with the infuriating bird that sits on her shoulder and keeps interrupting the conversation. And why is she singing a song in a little girls voice all of a sudden? And asks if she can have an apple, please?

Lili is in fact a former bandit. After a successful coup, during which she and her companions came to riches, she tried to settle down in Ciosa as a merchant's wife. But a mysterious song that she remembers from her childhood made her set out on her own to travel to the lands of the Kuglimz, where the bandits she grew up with had abducted her from when she was three years old. She has severed all ties with her cutthroat mates to find out about her origins. As she arrives in this story, it is clear that her fear of what she may find (or fail to find) in the Kuglimz lands has won, for she has gone south instead of north and has ended up in Strata!


Height: 2 ped
Weight: 1 pygge, 9 hebs
Hair Colour: Blonde
Eye Colour: Brown

Physical Appearance: Tall, slim and muscular, with a weather-worn but handsome face that radiates both experience and gaiety, Lili isnt easily overlooked. Her long, full blond hair and her lively brown eyes would make her a rather attractive woman if it was not for a deep scar on her left cheek, which is almost a palmspan long and will make it difficult for most people to look anywhere but at it if they decide to look into Lilis face at all.

Even without the scar, it would be obvious to an experienced observer that Lili has not led a quiet life. She holds her body upright, and her movements suggest a trained suppleness of limb. Her long arms are well-toned and obviously strong. Her large palms are calloused from outdoor life and work, as are her slender and slightly bony fingers.

Lili's voice is surprisingly deep and resonant for a slim woman, and when she laughs, she laughs fully and noisily, without regard for what others may consider propriety.

Clothing: Likes garish clothes, but also carries rather more practical outdoor clothing with her.


Jolly, up for a joke, a good companion, and will answer provokation with a joke rather than aggression. Easy to make friends with, and maybe a bit more loyal than is sometimes good for her. Bandit life has taught her the value of being able to rely on one's companions.

Alternate Personality: "Little Lili Demon". Not clear whether it really is a demon, but may seem so: Lili regresses to her 3-year-old personality at unpredictable moments and for unpredictable periods. When she is a child, she will not remember her adult life and experiences. Neither does she remember what she did under the influence of the "Little Lili Demon" when she is her adult self again.


Forest Survival Skills.

Fighting Skills: Cutlass, Knife, and Sling. Lili is good with each, not least thanks to her agility, and has plenty of experience, but she ain't a master of martial arts.

Strong Constitution.

Languages: Tharian and some basic Kuglimzseitre.

Gaiety and Gregariousness.


Disfigured Face. The scar: it's ugly.

Personality Changes. Bouts of personality change during which she's a 3-year-old child in all but body shape. This may leave companions bewildered, annoyed, and/or have them draw superstitious conclusions.

Secretive by necessity. Tries to hide her past as a highwaywoman.

Selflessness. Will sometimes put group interests over her own, or be braver than is good for her, while she assumes that everyone will do the same.

Familiar: Kassandra, a Charlatan Daggerbeak

Kassandra is a female Charlatan Daggerbeak, or Gossiper Bird. She is about parrot size, green with a gold stripe on the head, and has a large curved orange beak. Female gossipers can imitate sounds with baffling accuracy, including human language in the original speaker's voice. Kassandra, having spent a lot of time with Lili, is tame, but foul-mouthed and unruly. Lili believes that Kassandra is intelligent and actually understands language and uses it deliberately. This is, in fact, not true. But it may certainly seem so at times ...

Familiar: Fiddlesticks, a Centoraurian Horse

Lili doesn’t know it, but Fiddlesticks is a “Grothar’s Child”, a Centoraurian Horse that would fetch a handsome sum on any market (which is why the people she had stolen her from hadn’t been inclined to give up the pursuit lightly). Like all Centoraurian Horses, her slender built and long legs give her the graceful appearance and gait of a deer, but at the same time she is muscular and strong. Fiddlesticks is a dark shade of grey – the colour that learned Caelarethians call nor’sidian – but her mane and tail are a frosty white.


A rucksack, a purse with not little money (~6 silverbards). Her weapons: old ragged cutlass in splendid sheath; knife in sheath in her boot; an old sling.

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« Last Edit: June 29, 2009, 02:52:44 AM by Lili the Elfcat » Logged

"It's not good that I'm bad, but I'm proud that I'm worse than I seem."   ~ Lili the Elfcat ~
Foul-mouthed Familiar: Kassandra the Charlatan Daggerbeak (Gossiper)
Mysterious Memory: Kuglimz Love Song
Damien Scar
Commander of the Gates
Approved Character
Offline Offline

Gender: Male
Posts: 596

« Reply #7 on: March 13, 2009, 02:10:38 AM »

Best way to contact me is a PM.

Name-Damien Scar

Gender- Male
Race- Human
Occupation- Gate Commander of Voldar
Age- 36 Years.
Height- 2 peds

Damien has jet black wavy hair that flows loosely down over his shoulders and his bangs nearly cover his soulless dark black eyes. His skin is swarthy looking, like a deep dark tan. His face and hands are weather and battle scarred. His frame is thin, but well muscled. He wears a chain mail vest under a usually black leather tunic over upon which he wears a light suit of armor that only covers his back and chest. A large leather belt wraps around his waist that holds his mace that hangs from a leather cord hooked to the belt on the left side and an oyster shelled handle dagger, he bought from a merchant of the Avennorian tribe, hidden in a sheath hanging from the belt on the right side. Across his back he carries his favorite weapon, a Sengren, a double bladed axe made especially from his tribe the Kyranians. He wears black leather pants and special made black leather soled boots that allows him to be quite mobile, but near to impossible to hear when he walks. Over all of this he wears a black cloak that pins to his shoulders and hang down to the middle of his thighs.

Damien is extremely loyal, almost to a fault, to Lord Voltigor. He would do what ever is asked of him by his Lord, including lie, cheat, steal, even murder, which he has done on several occasions. He has disdain for those whom he thinks would dishonor his Lord or his Lords ambitions whether they be male or female. He is rough with the ladies but is also pursued by them He gives respect to those whom he has decided deserves it. He demands respect from his subordinates, though he has earned it more by his prowess as an infantry soldier and his more than willingness to die for his Lord if need be. His only main goal in life is one day be counted worthy enough by his Lord to be knighted.

Because he is of Kyranian descent he has a tremendous amount of endurance and strength. It is reported that Kyranian infantry men were the best trained for they were the actual descendants of Cyroan Thromgolin, the infantry lieutenant under Dietych the famous infantry Commander that besieged and brought down the famous Elven empire Fa’a’v’cal’ar. He can run faster and longer than any normal man under any circumstances.

Women are Damien’s downfall; though he has been betrayed and even put in chains by them, he still pursues them. He also rides a horse poorly, as he prefers to walk or run. He has no use for the bow, though he does and can use the crossbow on occasion.

Damien Scar was orphaned at a very young age. He joined the Kyranian infantry at the tender age of twelve, as the Commander’s boy. He watched and learned very well and then, when he was caught several years later with the Commander’s wife, he was sent to be executed. While waiting in the dungeon for his execution at the age of 16 he escaped with the help of the Commander’s wife.

Damien knowing he had a bounty on his head fled south. He lived in various towns, cities and villages living off of his skills but mostly off of rich older women who used him as much as he used them. His travels took him as far south as Marcogg he was 19 years of age when he took up with a rich widow.

Then in his twenty-second year he left that life behind determined to find a place for himself. He found himself eventually in Voldar and was hired as a guard; he was twenty four at the time. The Lord of Voldar at the time, Lord Kalgarius, did not like him, did not even have the decency to talk to him, though Damien tried to serve him as best as he could. But the Commanders at the time made sure he knew his place, besides he would find himself in trouble with one woman or another.

He was just about going to pack and leave when he heard about a man named Voltigor, a nobleman from Nymersys who was coming to wage war with Lord Kalgarius and Voldar. In a midnight meeting he made a pact with Lord Voltigor. The pact was to kill as much of the leaders of the army, councilors and nobles that were loyal to Kalgarius and leave the city almost defenseless for Lord Voltigor’s army.

He did most of the killing himself, though he had help from others he had recruited. The ones he missed he has regretted ever since, and that was the Royal family, especially the sons Talthisus and Maultus, though he did manage to kill Lord Kalgarius and his wife, but not before he had his way with her. (If this part of the history does not bode well, then I will change it.) For his reward in helping Lord Voltigor take the city he was given the title Commander of the Gates.

It was shortly after he became Commander that Damien found himself an outcast when Cedric the Fourth came to power in Voldar, but again with Damien's help and help of an unusual source; an Orc, by the name of Grunok as well as others in the underground, the true heir apparent, Voltigar, overthrew Cedric and his vicious policies.

Damien thought he would have some peace now, but it was not much later when it was revealed that there was a plot from the Earl of Nyermersys to make war on Voldar.

What neither of the two rulers realized was that there was a more sinister plot at work here: plying the two rulers against each other while he gathered an army to attack Voldar and Nyermersys and take over the Kingdom of Vardynian.

During all of this Damien met a tall, black bearded fellow from the city of Remusiat called Altario. At least that is what Damien called him, though he had a full name but Damien could never prounouce it correctly, so he just callled him either Altario or Alt, for short.

The war lasted approximately a year and with Altario's help along with dozens others, they finally defeated the dark elf Molek and his army. Damien stayed behind to help Voltigar and the recovery efforts the kingdom needed, but Altario was searching for his daughter and after helping out in Voldar, he got a tip of where his daughter might be so with heartfelt thanks, Altario left.

A year later Norman Graaves became Commander of the Gates as Damien stepped down. His wandering lust had bit him again and so he packed his belongings and took sail.

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« Last Edit: March 14, 2009, 06:47:38 PM by Talia Sturmwind » Logged

I have travelled far and wide.
And Foiro's must have been my guide.
For I have discovered these things to be true;
A man must have two, mayhap three things in life to be truly happy.
A good weapon at his side.
A virtuous wife, if he can find her.
A quver full of children.
Sadly, I only have one;
A good weapon at my side.
Songbird of the Sea
Approved Character
Offline Offline

Gender: Female
Posts: 321

Human, Blaar'kr

« Reply #8 on: March 17, 2009, 11:56:35 AM »

If you wish to reach me, the PM is the best way, as I rarely check my email. *guilty look*

I have ommitted the history from this copy as basically its purpose is to show how Rhia has begun to mature a little and why. Nonetheless, if you *really* want to see it, :P I believe there is a link in my signature. The personality and physical appearance sections are not very long, but I intend to expand them in the future, (hopefuly soon) and until then I hope they give you a basic idea of her character and appearance.

Geirhia of the R'unorian Isles ~ Rhia hates her full first name, and is always known by her nickname.





Singer. Rhia sings songs that she has composed, most often performing in a tavern, and sometimes on the streets for a few coins. When singing, she often plays the lute. An instrument Rhia favors more and is more skilled with than the lute is her syrinx- she performs with it just as often, if not more, than she sings.

Songbird of the Sea

Approximately 1 ped, 1 fore

About 1 pygge, 1 hafeb

Dark brown

Eye Color

Physical Appearance
Slim, willowy, and sure, Rhia carries herself with a proud confidence. Although comely to a certain extent, best described as "fetching" or "charming", she is not beautiful. However, her utter poise and the way that she presents herself can sometimes make others forget this. She speaks in a lilting, high, but not shrill, voice, but when she becomes emotional, the pitch scales up several notches. Rhia's small, gently sloping shoulders are often thrown back in pride. She has a taut stomach, preceding two thin legs of moderate length. If there is one thing that she hates about her body, it is her feet- they are a trifle big for her physique.

A very dark, rich brown, Rhia's hair is thick and straight. It is normally a little shorter than waist length. She takes wonderful care of her hair as she thinks it her best feature, and because she is more than a little vain, goes to great pains to fashion it in elaborate hairstyles, brushing and washing it daily. A rather misty grey, Rhia's eyes may make one think of the sea, but when she is angry, they harden and are misty no more. They are very expressive and, when she wishes them to, portray their mistress's emotions. Long and thick black lashes that Rhia has a habit of fluttering when around attractive young males frame the eyes- eyes that are slightly shortsighted. Rhia, however, is too vain to wear corrective spectacles. These eyes lie beneath expressive, dramatic eyebrows frequently raised in conversation. Farther on down lies a long and narrow nose sporting a silver ring in one nostril, following a Blaar'kr custom. A small, strawberry-hued mouth often wears an impish smile. During a silvery laugh, Rhia's head tilts back, displaying a charming chin above a creamy neck. Gesturing dramatically with her hands, Rhia draws attention to her tapering fingers and thin, ivory hands- hands just recently having lost the plumpness of childhood.

Rhia prefers to wear flowing, belted dresses that are calf-length and set off her physique very nicely; she always likes to look her best. When on the road or alone, however, she will don a tunic and breeches for the sake of comfortableness. Her R'unorian dagger is sheathed in its scabbard at her belt, whichever outfit she adorns. During the colder seasons she will also wear a heavy cloak to warm her. But no matter what she wears, she always keeps a certain opal pendant in the shape of a turtle around her neck. Given to her by her mother in a very rare display of affection, Rhia cherishes it despite herself.

Rhia is what you very well may call rather vain- she is just a bit obsessive about how she looks, and always makes sure that she looks her best. However, this is not her whole personality; rather, it is just a facet of her character. She has a soft spot for the finer things in life, though she could well do without them.

Rhia is very, very social. She has an amazing intelligence with people and their emotions and knows just how to interact with them. Taverns hold a special area in her heart because of their opportunity for conversation- she is an avid talker. A gregarious character, she acquires many friends in her rovings. True, she has a few more male friends than females, but that is yet another aspect of her personality; she is a flirt and loves witty, teasing banter.

Despite her social nature, Rhia is one to hold a grudge, even if she pretends not to for the sake of friendship. Her past has proven this. She is a bit of a rebellious soul in the respect that she is not afraid to refuse something that she does not like or whatnot. That's another thing- she is very obstinate, though she often bends her will on behalf of friendship and goodwill. This, too, has been demonstrated in her history.

Regardless of her sometimes flighty nature, once a friend of Rhia's you gain her trust and aid. She is young and naïve, only nineteen springs. She is a bird just flown the nest, not expecting, not knowing of all the ways of the world. Partially as a result of this, Rhia is religious and worships the sea goddess Baveras. Always an admirer of beauty, Rhia holds the elves and their language in high esteem, often wishing that she were of elven heritage herself.

     Obstinacy- Whether it is haggling for a good price or refusing something that goes against her moral fiber, Rhia is -and there is only one word for it- obstinate. When she refuses any other price, she can get a good deal with lodgings and food. (Unfortunately, half the time she is not sure what a good deal is- explained in Weaknesses.)
     Social nature- This trait of Rhia's has made her a rather substantial amount of friends wherever she goes, and she can get along well with the biggest prig (though she may feel like smacking him in the face). She knows just how to interact with people, and as a result of a certain friendship here or there can get free things or halved prices, for example.
     Dagger- This is her only weapon, but Rhia carries it well; she has known it since her late childhood in the R'unorian Isles. Though she proven that she has little use for it in her very social life, she is quite an opponent. Note: Rhia uses her R'unorain dagger for close combat on the rare occasions she uses it, and not a throwing weapon.

     Obstinacy- Sometimes Rhia will just not budge from her viewpoint, no matter if it is wrong or right. Actually, this happens fairly often. In any case, she will go out of her way to revenge herself or her friends if she thinks that she or they have been wronged, even if things are not what they seem- not always an endearing trait. Unsurprisingly, she has gotten herself in trouble more than once as a result of her obstinacy, and very often makes the same mistake many times.
      Naivety- To put it concisely, Rhia is young- only nineteen springs. She does not expect the bad things that come her way. She has been swindled a few times, and mugged as well, but has had the luck never to have been accosted. Knowledge of the world's ways will come in time, but for now, Rhia is unknowing in the ways of the world.
      Little strength- Rhia is not very strong at all, and attempts of living heavy things tax her, probably a result of her toil for a performing band, Road's Company (see History). The girl does not have enough strength to carry all of her belongings, and carrying baggage into her lodging, especially concerning stairs, proves to be a difficulty.

-R'unorian dagger

Just a wayside note or two:
     -Rhia always keeps her dagger in its scabbard at her belt as the women of R'unor do, but rarely needs to use it.
     -Rhia has recently become interested in the armoured fan, but has not yet had the opportunity to learn from a wielder or even buy one. Her sister, a disciple of Baveras, is learning how to wield the weapon, but is not good enough yet to teach it, and Rhia does not visit her enough to learn regularly.

-Opal turtle pendant
-Four dresses
-One tunic
-One pair of breeches
-Two waterskins
-One chemise for sleeping in
-Two pairs of underclothes, frequently washed
-One pair of all-purpose leather boots
-Haversack for victuals and small belongings

"Hoof" is the name of Rhia's male Kiang donkey. He is a very stubborn, willful beast, and will purposefully go against his mistress's wishes. There is no love lost between them, to be succinct. They barely even tolerate each other. Rhia never gives any thought to his physical characteristics, but to those who do notice, he has a scruffy, dirty-brown, pelt, with a paler underbelly. His shaggy, bristly mane sometimes hangs over his large, dark blue eyes. His tail is of the same description. He has short, but thin, legs, preceding small, horse-like hooves.

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« Last Edit: March 19, 2009, 07:18:52 AM by Talia Sturmwind » Logged

Tharoc Wargrider
Approved Character
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Gender: Male
Posts: 339

Northern cookie nobbler

« Reply #9 on: April 11, 2009, 05:29:17 AM »

If, for some unfathomable reason, anyone should wish to contact me, you could try a PM, Yahoo me on WARGRIDER1450, or e-mail me at (and before you ask, no I didn't choose that address, it was forced upon me!)

Much of the following information has been copy 'n' pasted directly from Thar's CD. I was being lazy.  grin

Name:  Tharoc Wargrider  (Clan title: Tharorc Rochok)

Gender:  Male

Age:  30

Race:  Tharorc  (half orc, half elf)

Tribe:  Ashz-oc orcs, Ice Elves of Iol

Occupation:  Adventurer and Compendium Researcher

Title:  Gadabout

Height:  1 ped, 2 fores, 1 palmspan, 6 nailsbreadths

Weight:  1 pygge, 6 hebs, 1 hafeb

Hair colour:  Black

Eyes:  2 of, both reddish-brown

Physical Appearance:  Tall for an orc, which undoubtedly stems from his mother, Tharoc is powerfully built but not as overly muscular as many of his kind. He is considered handsome by some, even non-orcen females find him strangely attractive in a rough, brutish kind of way, although he is either to stupid or naive in the ways of females to realise it.

Another elven trait he seems to have inherited from his mother is his high cheekbones, almost unheard of in an orc. His tusks are also noticeably shorter than usual, a fact which caused him to be the butt of many of his classmates jokes at the Ashz-oc military school.

He keeps his head shaved all over, apart from a circular patch atop where his long, coarse black hair is worn tied with leather thongs into braids, which themselves are knotted into his clans' traditional design. He has numerous tattoos and deliberate scarrings about his body, including his tribal emblem (the outline of a mountain with a flame burning within), and his clan emblem (an angular representation of a warg head, drawn using a single line). He also has large bone rings through both earlobes which create tunnels through the lobes big enough for him to poke even one of his stubby fingers through (a trick which he enjoys showing off at every available opportunity).

Clothing:  Tharoc sports a vakran-warg fur jerkin, tied across his chest with sturdy leather straps. His only pair of pants are made of leather and are too short for him, reaching only to his mid-shins, below which are a pair of stout leather boots lined with tarep fur.
He also has a couple of rough woollen shirts which he saves for special occasions or very cold weather.

Also used for cold or inclemant weather is his treasured wison fur riding cloak with hood. His hands are almost constantly covered in a pair of leather riding gloves, a gift from his tribal elders to mark his departure from the settlement. The gloves have no fingers in them to allow greater control of his mount, or any weapons he may have in hand.

His only other 'clothing' consists of a broad, black leather belt from which to hang his sword, a specially made harness across his back which carries 4 of his 8 hidden throwing knives, and 2 leather wristbands (one on each wrist) which conceal 2 more of his knives.

Personality:  Generally good-humoured, although he can, at times, be sullen and untalkative, Tharoc makes friends easily, and remains loyal and true to those friends, even through the most trying of circumstances.

Whether it be thoughts of his far-distant family or the still-lingering mistrust and aggression he is often met with which causes his occasional moodiness may never be known, as he is either unwilling, or unable, to talk about it further. When one of these moods takes hold of him, it is wise to leave him well alone, as even well-meant conversation can be taken badly at these times. Left alone, he can emerge from these darknesses as quickly as they appear, often surprising his companions with some practical japery when they least expect it.
He has become known for his ready wit as much as his scathing but well-meant sarcasm. This trait, whilst bringing levity to most, can also quickly become irritating. Tharoc himself is unaware of this, however, and therefore it is unwise to leave him alone in the company of strangers. Unless, that is, you are prepared to fight your way out.

Despite his somewhat dimwitted persona, he is entirely trustworthy and if he is asked to do something, he can be relied on to do it (except, perhaps, in the case of 'Leave the cookies alone, Tharoc'). It may take longer than anticipated, but the results will be worth waiting for.

Somewhat surprisingly for an orc, Tharoc drinks no alcohol at all. He tried it once, and much to the amusement of his friends, was almost immediately sick. He has never touched another drop since. He has become accustomed over the years to being invited along on 'tavern-crawls' not only for the humour he provides, but for his ability to carry two or three drunken bodies home safely afterwards.
On the whole, a jovial, well-mannered, helpful and trustworthy companion, but with 2 fists full of Ashz-oc steel, just in case!

Strengths:  He has good all-round skill with various weapons. Trained at the Ashz-oc military school where he gained the respect of his instructors as well as his classmates, Tharoc has a good working knowledge of various types of weaponry, including some non-orcen ones. This range of knowledge has, however, detracted from his mastery of all but one weapon. Whilst he can give a good account of himself against most opponents, anyone with a certain degree of competence or experience will find him a far easier opponent than expected. He enjoys taking a fight to close quarters where his knives, fists, feet and head give him a distinct advantage. His coup de grace is the 'Orcs kiss', a devastatingly powerful headbutt strong enough to stop a bull Wison in its tracks.

 Adept with throwing knives. Although his eyesight is not exceptional, he can see well enough to hit a fast-moving target from up to 10 peds away. He carries numerous concealed throwing blades at all times.

 Fitness. His military training, working on his fathers Warg farm, and his many travels and travails have given him a high degree of fitness, which he maintains by regularly running wherever he goes. Even in a lengthy battle, Tharoc's fitness gives him an edge, as he is able to carry on fighting when everyone else is exhausted.

 Very strong. His orcish blood has given him strength beyond that which his size would suggest. He is capable of carrying loads which another of his size would struggle to lift. Locked doors hold no secrets from Tharoc's shoulder or boot!

 Good hearing/smell. As with all orcs, Tharoc will hear or smell danger long before anyone else suspects its presence. This makes him a good nighttime sentry, but during daylight you will more than likely see it before he smells or hears it.

 He has the ability to bring humour to the worst of situations. Many's the time when, faced with danger or death, he has lifted the spirits of his comrades with his quick-wit, urging them on to win the day. This can also be disconcerting to opponents, as they cannot understand how someone can be so happy at the thought of dying.

 Makes friends easily and defends them quickly. He has many friends of different races throughout the continents, many of whom owe him their lives. It is a hard-heart indeed which does not soften after meeting with Tharoc. He could be a great ambassador, if it were not for his unpredictable temperament.

 Teetotal. There are those within these lands who are not above using alcohol to part the unwary traveller from his precious coin, and if this proves unsuccessful some even resort to the use of potions and poisons dropped secretly into the ale of their target. This ruse would be futile with Tharoc.
With Tharoc by your side, there is always someone to help you home after the party, and to keep you safe during it. 

 Can look very scary. Many's the time when a fight was about to break out, until Tharoc appeared. The sight of a large, heavily armed orc walking into a room is often enough to extinguish the hottest of tempers. If you find yourself in need of some information, just the threat of him can loosen the tightest of tongues.


 Slow reactions: Despite his fitness and strength, Tharoc's size and limited mental function cause him to have slower reactions than is strictly good for him. During the heat of battle even an average opponent will be able to issue two or three strikes to Tharoc's one.

 Weak defence: Tharoc's training at an orcen military school was primarily focused on attack, as is the orcen way. This has led to him giving scant regard to his defensive strategies, and coupled with his slower-than-average reactions this makes him less than invulnerable.

 Aversion to travelling on water: Despite drinking it in copious amounts, Tharoc has a great fear of travelling over water. This fear extends from the oceangoing ships which ply their trade around the coasts of Sarvonia, to the smallest of ferryboats which cross the rivers and streams of the inlands. Any journey undertaken which involves crossing water will render him useless for the duration of the crossing, with him gripping the rails of the vessel white-knuckled until his fingers seem to be digging into the wood itself. If you happen to be stood near him when the boat leaves shore, be sure not to leave your sword arm within his grasp!

 Clumsiness. Not a good thing if you are fighting in a confined space, especially if he trips over his own feet and lands on you. He's also not the safest pair of hands for any valuable or fragile treasures you may accumulate.

 He is unpredictable. Despite his seemingly easygoing manner, Tharoc can sometimes be quick to anger, finding insult, sleight or threat where none exists. You can never be sure how he will react in any given situation.

 He can be too trusting of people. Having been brought up to accept all races, he has still to learn that not all people are what they seem. He is learning, but still has trouble deciding who is what. The inbred orcen ability to read body language seems to have deserted him, possibly as a result of the elven blood running in his veins.

 Absentmindedness. Once given a task, he will carry it out to the very best of his ability......as long as he doesn't get distracted along the way. Even the simplest of instructions sometimes get lost on their way to his brain.

 He often forgets that his orcish humour is not to the tastes of some. He has been known to take his bawdy, sarcastic humour too far on occasion, not realising that he is the only one laughing. This is not good if you are seriously outnumbered and in strange lands. Tact has never been one of his strong points. It's not a good idea to leave him on his own with strangers!

 He hasn't got the best eyesight. This makes him all but useless as a daytime lookout. His hearing and smell help to even this out somewhat, but not enough. 

 He tends to be a little "slow on the uptake". He has trouble sometimes realising that a situation is getting out of hand. He prefers an outright threat to a subtle one, much easier to understand. You may have to explain even simple things to him several times, just to make sure he's got the idea.

 He can look very scary. This can cause problems when you enter a new area for the first time. People automatically assume he's going to kill them. Although, strangely, small children seem to be fascinated by him.

 His huge appetite. Tharoc is almost permanently hungry. His appetite can be a serious drain on whatever meagre resources you have available. Never leave him in charge of the provisions! He has a particular fondness for cookies, especially if freshly baked.

 Undecipherable accent. Although he can understand Tharian perfectly well, when it comes to speaking it Tharoc's heavy northern accent is, at best, difficult to understand. It gets easier the longer you spend with him, but no-one has yet managed to decipher him completely, which can cause problems when he has information you need.

Weapons:  Tharoc is suprisingly lightly armed for an orc, prefering to carry only those weapons that he is proficient in.

His most obvious weapon is the typically plain but expertly crafted Ashz-oc kle'var sword which hangs from the broad belt at his waist. Engraved with shamanistic symbols by the shamut of his clan, it was a gift from his father upon the completion of his training at military school.

Concealed at various locations about his person are 8 perfectly balanced, razor-sharp throwing knives. Carved from ironwood, they are suprisingly light, but devastatingly efficient. The knives are Tharoc's weapon of choice.

Although he favours his knives, perhaps the most effective of all his weapons are his fists, feet and head. He likes nothing better than taking a battle to close-quarters, probably due to his weak eyesight. When Tharoc hits you, you stay hit!

Belongings:   Apart from his clothes, sword, throwing knives and longbow, his only belongings are his specimen box, blank parchments, a stub of burnt wood for writing, and a boar-skin rucksack. He has also recently acquired a pair of fluffy pink earmuffs, although he can't remember just where they came from, or how they came to be in his possession. He tends to hide these in the bottom of his sack.

Familiar:  Tharoc has a vakran warg named Valkree who he raised from a pup on his father's warg farm back home. True to her breed, she is willing to accept the control of her companion, when the mood suits her, but retains enough of her wild heritage to find it neccesary to roam free on occasion. However, these 'occasions' happen a little more frequently than Tharoc would like, of late, and he oftentimes finds himself having to complete journeys on foot.
*More info on Valkree will be forthcoming as and when I decide to introduce her to a story*

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« Last Edit: April 12, 2009, 05:50:00 PM by Talia Sturmwind » Logged

I reject your reality and substitute my own - Adam Savage  Mythbusters

Ílarolén'yliás (Drustai)
Fallen Hero
Story Mod
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Gender: Female
Posts: 349

Gray Elf, Kaýrrhem

« Reply #10 on: October 29, 2009, 08:52:50 AM »

Contact Information
E-mail: rhifox(at)hotmail.com
MSN: rhifox(at)hotmail.com
Santh IRC: Fox_Santh


[Tempoarly removed]

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« Last Edit: February 25, 2015, 11:39:04 AM by Drustai » Logged
Wayfaring Whittler
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Posts: 103

Hobbit, Dogodan

« Reply #11 on: February 02, 2010, 06:48:07 AM »

Here is a summary of my CD, minus the history section. I've also just listed the Strengths and Weaknesses here (I've taken out the descriptions of them), but they can be read up on at my main CD if you'd like to.

Contact me via PM to Orly or email/PM to Deklitch. Or catch me in IRC.

Name: Orly Greenfield

Gender: Male

Age: 35

Race: Hobbit

Tribe: Dogodan

Occupation: Wood Carver

Title: Wandering Whittler

Overview: When Orly turned thirty-three, most in the Dogodan Shire believed this formerally respected and admired young gentle-hobbit had gone quite mad. The reason for this belief is because one day he packed up the tools of his trade, made sure he had food for a journey and headed north out of the shire and to the cities of the humans. Orly wanted to see the world, and now he travels, whilttling pipes, toys and other objects out of wood and selling them to people in exchange for food and drink and shelter.

Height: 1 ped

Weight: 5 hebs

Hair Colour: Light Brown (curly)

Eye Colour: Hazel

Physical Appearance:
A head of curly hair, a plump stomach, rosy cheeks and a friendly smile are the first things noticed by people when they come across Orly. His height and weight are average for a hobbit of the Dogodan Shire.

His cheeks are plump and red and are a nice contrast to his hazel coloured eyes. His curly light brown hair reach down to just above his shoulder blades. His face is weathered from his travelling throughout the countryside.

His stomach is plump in the style of hobbits, which suggests he still gets most of his meals during the day. His hands are large, steady and weathered, as a result of his life of travelling and from his work as a wood carver.

Like other hobbits, Orly has curly hair on his feet as well as on his head. His hair on his feet, once again like other hobbits, is coarser than the hair on his head. As well as being weathered, his skin is tanned as a result of his travelling during the day.

Despite being a relatively young hobbit far from home, Orly wears traditional hobbits clothes. A broad brimmed straw hat is used to keep the bright rays of the sun from his face. Orly wears no jewellery of any kind around his neck or elsewhere on his body.

He wears a multicoloured short sleeved shirt with stripes, such as white, light yellows and greens. His trousers are have been sown from old ship sails which are too worn and old to be used as sails anymore. These have been dyed brown and reach just below the knees. As a hobbit, he has thick, coarse, curly hair on his feet, which negate the need for him to wear shoes.

Finally, Orly has a jacket made of animal hides with the wool of sheep on the inside. When the weather gets chilly, or if he needs to impress someone, he'll wear one of these over whichever one of his shirts is cleanest at the time.

Orly has most of the traditional hobbit traits of friendliness, a fondness for tales and dancing, a preference for pipeweed, and a love of eating and drinking. These traits are tempered by his curiousity which falls into the twin fields of what happens if I do this and what is over the next hill. Both areas of curiousity have gotten him in trouble in the past and more than likely will do so again.

Orly's friendliness comes to the fore when he meets people for the first time. At this time, he will greet them and soon they will be chatting like old friends, and if he's lucky, he'll even have a place to stay that night. This friendliness is tempered by his forgetfulness. Unless he has used someone's name frequently in meeting them, more than likely he will forget their name. He also frequently misplaces objects such as his pipe, his pipeweed and his walking stick.

Orly misses his family that he has left behind. His siblings, cousins, aunts, uncles, grandparents, nieces and nephews were a large part of his life for the first thirty-three years of it. Since then, he has pondered going back occasionally, but when he wakes up the next day, his wonderlust and his curiousity take hold and he continues on to discover the whole new world that exists outside of his current frame of reference.

Walking Stick


Walking Stick

Orly travels light, only taking the bare minimum needed to survive with him. He has a small whittling knife, it is far too important to him as a means of making objects that he can sell and exchange to ever consider using it to attack anyone with it. He also has a pipe, and a small supply of hobbit-leaf that he smokes regularly.

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« Last Edit: February 02, 2010, 07:03:26 AM by Talia Sturmwind » Logged

The road never ends,
Taking me beyond my dreams,
Each day as it twists and bends,
Crossing plains and mountain streams. - Orly Greenfield
Lyth Elstrum
So Danar fa Eya
Approved Character
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Gender: Male
Posts: 81

Elf, Quaelhoirhim

« Reply #12 on: February 03, 2010, 10:28:44 AM »

Here is my CD, minus the history. To contact me, simply shoot me a PM. You can also find me in IRC (I'm there practically everyday in the evening, and various times on the weekend). I'm sending the Story mods an alternate character to contact as this character is my main. I like to keep my identity secret.  ;) A link to the full CD is in my sig.

Name: Lyth Elstrum

Age: 312

Age by appearance: 30

Age by knowledge and training: 40

Lifespan: 600

Gender: Female

Race: Elf

Tribe: Quaelhoirhim

Overview: A tall, slender elf whose mindset is bent on the healing of others. Lyth has done extensive studies on herbology and the art of healing, and has gone through the training of an Eyashene. She dresses in modest robes of white, and occasionally pale green. She hates to harm others and is completely devoted to Eyasha. She believes all life is sacred and she will never harm anything intentionally.

Occupation: Mindsmoother/Healer and Herbalist

Title: So Danar fa Eya (Lit. "The Hand of Peace")

Height: 1 Ped, 2 Fores, 1 Palmspan, and 3 Nailsbreadths

Weight: 1 Pygge, 2 Hebs, 1 Hafeb, and 2 Ods

Hair color: A medium shade of aldermarine brown

Eye color: A deep shade of santharian violet

Appearance: Lyth is shorter than average for a Quaelhoirhim elf, but has managed to maintain their slenderness. Her aldermarine brown hair, flowing down to the middle of her shoulder blades, crowns her oval-shaped head. A small portion of her hair forms one large braid, and it is always worn down. Her deep santharian violet eyes attract the attention of many, and seem to capture the sunlight, making them glimmer. Her sharp nose and high cheekbones have caused many men to regard her as exotic. Her full scarlet lips, along with her eyes and other features, are nicely accenuated by her golden, olive skin that appears to glow faintly.

Her slender neck is in proportion well to her head, and has a minute amount of sun marks. Her shoulders are petite and she is not very muscular. The mindsmoother's breasts are well-developed and sag only slightly. Her complexion, other than the sun marks, is flawless. Her small hands, attached to slender arms, are adorned by well manicured fingernails. Her slender, shapely legs are bottomed by small, petite feet. She has gotten comments from many men that she has a natural beauty about her, like she isn't trying to be beautiful, but she just is.

Dress: Lyth dresses very simply. She wears a somewhat dirty cy'hallowian snow robe that hangs down to her ankles. The sleeves hang open like most would imagine a wizard's attire, and go halfway down her forearm. Under her robe she wears a cloth covering on her breasts, and simple woolen undergarments. She wears a pendant depicting Eyasha's trinity herb symbol, colored green around her neck. She wears several beaded bracelets on each of her rists. These bracelets were crafted from wood by her father. Lyth will usually pick a flower to adorn her hair. She will usually pick just about any flower, provided it is save, but she prefers blue flowers of any kind, particularly the cerubell.

Personality: Lyth is peaceful by nature, and would never violence of any form. She would never think of harming another creature. When attacked, this follower of Eyasha will not resort to violence. The healer will usually find a way to end the fight with her mindsmoothing, instead. Lyth cannot stand anything that disrupts peace, for that is the center of her world. She is a very loving and kind person and hates to see any creature hurt, down to the tiniest insect. She is a firm believer that all life is sacred and should be cherished. Lyth heals people for this very reason.  

Lyth worships Ava, and the twelve human/elven deities. However, she is most devoted to Eyasha. She is very peace oriented, and lives her life according to it. If ever she received a sign from Eyasha, she would commit to the task in a heartbeat. If anyone were to insult her religion, she would simply ignore them.

Lyth is a fan of sad music, for it helps soothe the painful memories of her mother's death. She often wishes she could play a flute, or a lyre, so that she can heal more swiftly. She will often stop at many inns and bars so she may here such songs upon request.

The slender elf will not turn anyone away that she finds, or that come to her for help. She believes all life is sacred and holds no petty grudges against any of the other races. She is somewhat wary of orcs, but this is only because of stories and she will heal them all the same.

This generous Eyashene, when healing, will only ask for what she needs to survive. She can well gauge the income of others, and will charge accordingly. Sometimes, if she finds a particular family a or a person to be exceptionally poor, she will do a healing for almost nothing, and sometimes for free.


Mindsmoothing: Lyth is a powerful mindsmoother. Since a young age, she has shown great aptitude for her gift. She had a practical sense of it before too long, but she was still lacking much information. Now, she has undergone intense training and has a much more in depth control of her ability. With this gift, she is able to soothe her patients while she treats them, to prevent or minimize any pain. She has found that she can produce a feeling of numbness within them, greatly aiding her in surgery. She has found that, in a battle, she can soothe her enemies quickly, given enough time, and can usually avoid conflict. She has learned to harness and control her mindlashes, but she would never use them against any living creature. Ever. Instead of blocking the unyielding flow of emotions she receives, she has learned to discern them from her own, creating a wall of sorts between them. She can use this wall to separate her emotions from those of others, and can sense if they have any rage. This can give her a warning to be on the lookout for an approaching attacker, or someone she can soothe.

Extensive knowledge of herbs and healing: Lyth sought out someone who could teach her the arts of healing and herbology. After years of studying under her, she has gained an extensive knowledge of herbs, treating wounds, and surgery. This, accompanied by her mindsmoothing, makes her a highly adept healer, and she can save many lives. If ever she is injured, there is a good chance that she will be able to heal herself.

Literate: From the one she learned healing from, Lyth also learned to read and to write. This gives her an advantage over most, and she can continue her studies on healing, by reading texts. She can also write letters to her literate father, to make sure he is well. This also makes finding patients easier, as she can read ads for those who need healing.

Great social skills: Because of her kind nature, Lyth has great social skills. When Lyth is around someone who is sad. She generally knows what to say. In a way, her skills allow her to help others heal differently. She can heal physical ailments, mental maladies with her mindsmoothing, but these skills allow her to heal the heart as well. She can also, if the need arises, sometimes talk her way out of trouble.


Fragile: With her thin frame, the mindsmoother is easily hurt or broken. If ever she was attacked by an orcen club, a dwarven war hammer, or a similarly large object, she would surely be half-dead. She also, given the need, could never lift a heavy sword to defend herself.

Indecision: Lyth usually has trouble deciding what to do in most situations. This makes her an easy target for most in a fight. She has an inner turmoil, praying to Eyasha to send her a sign, telling her what needs to be done. She usually does not receive such a sign, and must make her own choices. This leaves her shaken and confused as to if she made the right choice or not. This can put her in a state of depression at times, in which she refuses to eat, and sleeps little. This can severely damage her health.

Fear of snakes: Lyth is completely and utterly terrified of snakes. If she even thinks she sees one, she will immediately start shrieking and panicking. They can also leave her paralyzed with fear. This can leave her vulnerable to attack and unable to defend herself. People can also exploit this weakness. If one would have a grudge against her, they would simply have to pull out a snake of any form, even something fitted to look like a snake, and it would leave her completely vulnerable.

Moon cycles: Lyth has horrible moon cycles. They leave her with intense cramps and pains that leave her crippled for a few days. She can usually prescribe an herb for herself that can help the pain, but it usually does little to ease it. She can fall behind in her money and she will become ill easily. She is also vulnerable to attack at this time. She usually may need somewhere secret to hide out, or someone she trusts that can protect her.


Lyth is a powerful mindsmoother. From the young age of twenty-two, she has shown a great aptitude for the ability.

First and foremost of her abilities, is to absorb the constant flow of emotions she gets from every living being, and to discern them from her own. She keeps a mental barrier of sorts around her emotions, allowing for them to not become intermingled with those of others. This will allow her an advantage over others in the ability to tell them what they want to hear, as she can discern what emotions are brought out by certain words. Also, she can sense if there are any with hostility toward her in the area. Finally, this aspect of her gift allows her to determine the severity of an injury, by homing in on the amount of pain they are feeling.

Second, is her ability to alter and soothe emotions. If she is unable to soothe someones anger toward her in time, for example, she finds it easier to simply divert their anger to something else. All she is doing is slightly altering the emotion instead of introducing a completely new one. She finds that she can project an emotion over a large area. However, it will usually only affect those with a weak mind, or those without a passion. For stronger minds, she usually must greatly reduce the area that her mind touches, or focus on them individually if they are exceptionally strong. She finds that all will eventually succumb to her will, some just take longer than others. She finds that her influence over someone is stronger when her gaze is upon them, stronger still when she has eye contact, and at its peak when she is in physical contact with them. Her most common use of this, is to use her talent as an anesthetic, producing a numbing emotion so that her patients will feel no pain when she operates.

Lyth has learned how to prevent her midlashes. She actually specializes in healing these types of damage to the mind. If she wanted to, she could completely destroy someones mind. Thankfully, she is strongly pacifist and would never use her gift in such a violent way. Her ability to heal these rifts is extensive, as her teacher was an exceptionally knowledgeable mindsmoother. She simply assesses what has been done to mangle ones mind, and simply reverses the affects. She takes great pleasure in curing madness and other mental ailments. This is, by far her strongest ability, making her a very invaluable Eyashene.

Perhaps the most difficult ability for her to accomplish, is hypnosis. She is still practicing that art and it usually takes her ten to fifteen minutes before she can soothe someone to sleep. When she truly masters this ability, she thinks it will be helpful in ending conflicts quickly, curing insomnia, and during surgery when she must concentrate intensely, instead of using a sleeping herb.


25 Alrik'ran roots
A flask of Bladeleaf gel
25 Canelvous leaves(purchased from people at the elverground near her home)
10 Dreamer's breath flowers
40 Miyu beans
10 Miyuestiac leaves
Odea moss
A flask of oil from trinity leaves
5 Trinity roots
10 Dried Yahrle plants
Cloth sacks in which all of the herbs are kept
1 Spare faded light green robe
Coin purse
Small cooking pot
Necklace with the symbol of Eyasha
Various beaded bracelets
Small knife(used for preparation of herbs, not for combat)
3 Water Flasks
Leather container for food
Dagger with a ruby in the hilt(it has sentimental value. It belonged to her mother, and is not used as a weapon.)
A surgery kit with various knives and tools, rolled up and wrapped in sack cloth
A leather satchel in which she keeps these things

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« Last Edit: February 04, 2010, 07:10:47 PM by Talia Sturmwind » Logged

"I am Eyasha's servant. I am The Hand of Peace."

Lyth Elstrum
Altario Shialt-eck-Gorrin
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Gender: Male
Posts: 7034

Human, Remusian

« Reply #13 on: February 03, 2010, 10:29:49 AM »

Oh, I know how to get a hold of you. :)

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"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.
Lyth Elstrum
So Danar fa Eya
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Posts: 81

Elf, Quaelhoirhim

« Reply #14 on: February 03, 2010, 10:43:20 AM »

I'm pretty sure Garret does too. I'll just leave it at that. ;)

"I am Eyasha's servant. I am The Hand of Peace."

Lyth Elstrum
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