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Author Topic: The Cast (Character Descriptions)  (Read 6226 times)
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Khiera Meneris
Troubled Wanderer
Approved Character
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Gender: Female
Posts: 2338

Human, Hjoria

« on: January 06, 2004, 12:30:22 AM »

There are 6 core characters in two parties/groups in this story:

(note: the core characters system is currently being reevaluated)

Party A:
Luca the Thief
Aryia`en Evasha
Jee MacNamara
Brodin Gerdrad

Party B:
Khiera Meneris
Kishara Laurenan
Bahran Bahran
Tzilon Ikara

Throughout the game, there will be various other characters which i will term "Guest Characters". They might be PCs who bump into the two parties in the course of the journey, or PCs who decide to join either party during any part of the journey. Guest Characters who play and integrate well within the plot and complement the Core Characters may also eventually become part of the Core Characters.

For all the Core Characters, please post your character name in the colour orange, bold, and in font size 3 (small). This is just to indicate that they are the core characters, since we are going to be having other players join in and out throughout the course of the journey.

Please post all CDs minus the history. All other players besides the Core Characters, just post your CD the usual way :D        

The CD posted should be in the below format:

(contact info)
A line across (click on the -hr- button on the left)
(Your CD)
A line across
(Any special notes you want to say/tell us regarding your character, special requests about your character/the plot etc.)

See Khiera's and Aryia`en's posted CD as an example.

All the CDs of Characters that have ever participated in this story will be retained in this thread :)    

The Tale of Khiera Meneris
Hold me. Soothe me. Love me. Save me from my Rage.

Edited by: Bahran the big at: 6/2/05 16:59
Khiera Meneris
Troubled Wanderer
Approved Character
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Gender: Female
Posts: 2338

Human, Hjoria

« Reply #1 on: January 06, 2004, 02:07:22 AM »

Contact info:


Khiera Meneris

Gender: Female

Age: 27

Race: Human

Tribe: Hjoria

Occupation: Wandering healer (clerical magic)

Title: Troubled Wanderer


With her robes, veil and gloves, and pale, smooth skin, Khiera exudes an aura of mystery, perhaps even uneasiness for some. If seen with her veil off, her attractiveness will prompt others, especially men to want to approach her and find out more; but with her veil on, people are more likely to be hesitant.

Physical Appearance

Khiera stands at approximately 1.6 peds tall, with jet-black flowing, slightly wavy long hair down beyond the waist that is usually let loose or tied back in a low ponytail. Her skin is extremely pale, with hardly any colour except for an almost translucent sheen of flawless white. Her eyes are of a pale grey, and a thin, shapely nose rests between her high cheek bones. Her lips seem to be the only dash of colour on her – a deep, silky red. Her figure is lithe and shapely, though her gentle feminine curves are hardly noticeable under her loose flowing robes. Most people would consider her a beauty, until they notice the scarring of burns on both her hands.


Khiera is usually covered from head to toe with a hooded loose flowing robe that goes all the way down to her ankles; a veil to cover her face, matching gloves (they are always on to hide the burns on her hands) and soft boots, whenever the sun is out and bright. When the weather is cloudy without the presence of the sun, and especially during the evenings and night, Khiera will remove her veil and sometimes even her hood, though that is very rare. Her clothing is usually extremely austere, simple and unadorned, except for a little “talisman” pendant that was carved by her brother from the bones of a bonehead and given to her as her 10th birthday present that she has worn around her neck since.


Khiera’s personality is one that is of extremes: when she is “feeling like herself”, she has an extremely sweet and charming disposition, very kind, gentle, engaging and friendly, However, when she sinks into a depressed state of mind, Khiera is best described as cold, uncaring, sinister, and even arrogant at times. Khiera is frustrated by the fact that she is constantly see-sawing between these two states – the “good Khiera” and the “bad Khiera” as she terms them – and sometimes she can seem “too nice” because she will often go out of her way to avoid being “bad Khiera”. Khiera is quiet, introverted and a loner. She usually tries to avoid places with large crowds. She has a love-hate relationship/attitude towards men, having been physically abused by her father while at the same time her brother was the only male that had ever shown any real concern or love for her. She tends to approach men with a lot of apprehensiveness, as she has a fear deep inside of not knowing whether she will be ill or well treated. Though, having the lack of a father figure while growing up makes her extremely vulnerable to being too trusting towards a man, especially an older man, if they treat her well.

Khiera also has a fiercely loyal streak in her. Since most of her early life has been harsh and painful, Khiera tends to be very loyal and protective towards those that are good towards her. This loyal streak in her also explains some of the “zealousness” of her faith as a cleric – ie. the Goddess treats her well, the Goddess provides for her and gives her strength and power, therefore she is wholeheartedly devoted in her faith and belief. Khiera does not trust easily, but when she trusts someone you can be sure that you have her complete trust and faith in you. Khiera can be impulsive at times, letting emotion reign over rationality. Despite that, Khiera also has a strong intellectual side to her, and she is a person that would find joy and fascination in spending an entire day amongst dusty volumes of books and scrolls in a library.


Khiera has an extremely well-trained and focused mind. This is due to her years of training as a clerical healer as well as her extreme efforts to channel all her energy and faith into the “good things” in her life in order to push aside her painful memories and hurt. Her faith, focus and strong-willed determination also greatly enhances her skill and capability as a clerical healer and spell caster.

Khiera has an intelligent mind and sharp intuition. This allows her to adapt quickly and well to changing situations, as well as learning new skills to help her along the way.


Khiera is prone to bouts of depression and extreme mood swings, even though she tries extremely hard to keep her destructive emotions under control. Her depression and mood swings affect her otherwise relatively potent healing and spell-casting ability, as her focused is compromised and her faith wavers between two deities. Being depressed also causes Khiera to be less alert and quick in her mind, and has a negative impact on her social skills – not something positive for a lady traveling on her own.

What Khiera possesses in intelligence and focus, she lacks in stamina and strength. Physical abuse during her childhood has left her somewhat weak and battered (although not to the extent that you can just push her over with a hard push!). Her constant efforts to be “good Khiera” drains her physically and emotionally. Her constant shifting of her faith between two deities also take its toll in wearing her out.


Khiera has extensive training as a healer from a young age in clerical magic, and her healing skills can usually heal serious wounds, even life-threatening injuries if the patient shares her faith and belief. Khiera also has a beautiful and melodious voice, which she often uses to place a soothing and persuasive effect on people, usually when healing to help ease the patient’s pain and promote recovery. If one is not careful it is possible that one can be temporarily mesmerized by her voice.

Khiera also has an affinity for fire and flame through her faith and belief in Pariya. She can manipulate and produce flames, generate heat and create light. In bouts and moments of extremely intense rage, she can also unwittingly cause searing rays of heat to emerge from her hands, though this occurs very, very rarely and she does not have any control over it. However, these powers were lost when she realigned her faith with Nakashi, although through her belief in Nakashi she still retains the ability to generate and manipulate sources of light and heat.

However, even though Khiera is attempting to switch and channel her faith and belief towards Nakashi once more, she often finds it hard to shift from her faith in Pariya, as her faith in Pariya allows her to express and vent her rage and grief so much better. When she is in a state of wavering and uncertainty regarding her faith, it diminishes her clerical ability, causing spells and healing to drain her more rapidly. During her journeying, Khiera has unwittingly allowed her faith to fluctuate between two deities several times, and each time she attempts to realign her faith with either deity once more, she has discovered that it takes a longer period to reestablish her faith with either deity. The longer Khiera remains faithful to one deity, the more potent her casting abilities, but Khiera also intuitively senses that the deities are getting displeased with her wavering, and knows that if she crosses the line once too often, she might lose the trust and favour of both deities.


Khiera carries with her an ornamental short sword-- given to her by her aunt Theala -- for self-defense, concealed within her robes. Her skill with a sword is sufficient for adequate self-defense and short bouts of close combat. She has very basic skill with a bow.


A small pouch made of Inja skin for money, a short sword, a water pouch, a bone talisman carved from the bone of a bonehead and a medium-sized satchel filled with quills and parchment. Khiera also tries to always be carrying a flower or a fresh sprig of some kind of plant, as a way of denoting her bond to Nakashi and Pariya.

The Tale of Khiera Meneris
Hold me. Soothe me. Love me. Save me from my Rage.

Aryia en Evasha
New Santharian

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Posts: 88

« Reply #2 on: January 06, 2004, 02:12:22 AM »

Aryia`en Evasha

Gender: Female

Age: 243

Race: Elf

Tribe: Tethinrhim

Occupation: Kaierian Warrior – Sýs'Pharanhé-króin “Second Travelling Warrior”

Title: Kaierian Sojournress

Physical Appearance:

Aryia`en, like all Tethinrhim, has a fair, creamy complexion with deep set hazel eyes and a shapely nose between smooth delicate cheeks. However, her once luscious crimson tresses – usually braided past her waist – is now a silvery sheen of tussled locks, although a few stray strands of pale orange at the roots is telling of its original shade of glorious red. Intense grief at the shock of killing her Lover by her own hands caused her hair to turn into a shade of pale silver over night. Standing at 2 peds tall, her physique is slim and curvaceous, but more importantly, well-toned with over 200 years of constant intensive training in combat and weaponry skills. Dark face paint sometimes adorn her cheeks and forehead, especially when Aryia`en is preparing herself for a duel or battle. On her left arm is the symbol representing her soul name, tattooed at birth. For her age, Aryia`en looks exceptionally young and supple, belying her many experiences and battles weathered over the years.


Aryia`en prefers light Elven chainmail worn over a leather vest to allow for maximum agility during battle while providing reasonable protection. Form fitting leather breeches go with her top, along with soft, dark knee-length traveling boots. For her travels, she has purchased a long, dark cloak, shielding herself from prying and curious gazes. Feeling sorrowful over the loss of her crimson locks, and ashamed of the events that led to the loss of its original scarlet shade, Aryia`en is never seen without a dark wide-brimmed hat, its shadow shielding her facial features, especially with her head slightly tipped forward, as is her usual manner – only exposing perhaps the slightest hint of a pair of pale supple lips. Along with a pair of simple metal armlets, Aryia`en sometimes dons a pair of dark gloves, usually when training with her whip. Her twin blades are hung across her back in their sheaths beneath her traveling pack, while her whip is usually curled and fastened around her waist to a black leather belt worn loose and low on the hips.


Stoic, controlled and cynical would be the words best describing Aryia`en’s general personality. Her tempered and inward holding of emotions is a distinct trait of her Tethinrhim upbringing. However, her personality had not always been so. In her younger days, days of more than 200 years ago, she had a gregarious, cheerful and emotive character, to the extent that her elders questioned her Tethinrhim blood. But all that changed in her 23rd year (see History). Now the more light-hearted and jovial side of her emerges only in rare bursts on very rare occasions. Aryia`en has a keen, perceptive and intuitive mind, sharpened by her warrior’s training. She is extremely sensitive to and observant of the people and surroundings around her. Although her temperament is generally cold and unwavering, her temper can be chaotic and unpredictable at times.

Aryia`en has learned to depend on no one but herself, and she is extremely independent and strong-willed. Aryia`en has a strong sense of the warrior’s code within her, but her chaotic side does not rule out against deviating from the code (see Fighting Style). Though stoic and cynical, Aryia`en is not cruel. She has great compassion and affection for all creatures large and small, preferring to feel close to the land in the forests or wilderness, rather than spending her days in hustling cites and towns. Aryia`en is generally very approachable and agreeable, unless you happen to be a human female or unless the occasion is on a battlefield.

Deep inside, Aryia`en yearns to care and love for another, to be carefree and joyful once more, but harsh memories prompt her icy façade, her deep sorrow and yet unresolved hurt within herself preventing her from ever completely letting down her guard to trust someone in whole. Ayria`en feels a deep sense of loneliness and emptiness within her, the only thing that gives her a sense of fulfillment and pride ever since the death of Althis is the training of her combat skills, which she pursues relentlessly and intensively during her every waking moment. Aryia`en also finds partial solace in prayer, though she discloses this to no one.


-- Aryia`en is extremely independent, resourceful, intuitive, perceptive, focused and strong-willed.
-- Over 200 years of intense and dedicated training and battle experience in her weapons of choice as well her reflexes and various skills.
-- Accumulated wisdom and practical knowledge that comes with her age and life experience.


-- A recurring limp that cannot be completely healed (See History). Thus, Aryia`en can only sprint for short distances at a time, and has restricted mobility during combat.
-- Aryia`en has lost the ability to feel the sensation of pain as a result of the trauma when she caused the death of her Lover with her own hands. Although this allows her to fight for long stretches at a time, it also means that if Aryia`en overstrains herself she will eventually collapse into unconsciousness during battle because she is unable to feel the aches and strains of her worn body. Also, if Aryia`en is unaware of severe wounds dealt to her, the infection and worsening of the wound may be fatal.
-- Her negative predisposition towards human females.
-- Her soft spot for human males resembling Althis – over 200 years of time washing away at the wound within her has failed to thin her affection towards Althis. Aryia`en cannot bring herself to bring harm upon human males that look like, speak like, or act like Althis. This could be a lethal factor if that certain person was a deadly opponent in battle.
-- Her adamant following of the warrior’s code during duels or battles despite detriment to herself if her opponent is less than honourable.


-- Twin long swords, with the names of Althis and herself inscribed on each of the blades. The hilts of the swords have been customized by a master blacksmith and made slightly curved, for better flexibility and handling to cater to Aryia`en’s style of combat.
-- Her whip – the Scourge – with 12 leather strips and multi-faceted blades at the end of each strip. The handle and metal nob at the end of the whip was lovingly crafted by Aryia`en herself, when she was first training to master the whip at the stage of a War Warrior.
-- The Coorán’lóh in the form of serrated blades, attached to the outside of her boots.
-- Her “salén pins”, as she calls them. A throwing weapon that she invented, almost accidentally, by herself, and after testing it out as a weapon, it has become one of her weapons of choice (see history on its creation). Basically a very simple “construction”, yet deadly in trained hands. Each pin measures about 2 nailsbreadth long and half a grain wide with a sharp pointed tip, resembling slim needles. As they are extremely light and small, they can travel great lengths and hit their target with sharp force and minute accuracy, especially with Aryia`en having perfecting the skill of using these pins and trained herself in their lethal use as a weapon with much dedication and pride for almost 200 years. Silent and swift, they are hard to avoid if aimed at “delicate” parts of the body – such as the eyes, especially if the enemy is caught by surprise.
-- Two obsidian daggers, gifts from Althis, also with their names carved onto the blades. Aryia`en keeps these daggers close to her in small pouches hung on her belt.

Fighting Style:

Trained in the intensive training regime of the Tethinrhim Kaierian warriors for over 200 years, Aryia`en is highly skilled in Iteh, rendering her being able to perform seemingly amazing acrobatic movements with great ease. Through her training, Aryia`en is also comfortable in the handling of most weapons, although her weapons of choice and expertise are her twin swords, the Scourge, and her “salén pins”.

Due to the disadvantage in mobility during battle caused to her by her recurring limp, Aryia`en has trained long and hard at what she calls “stationary fighting” to avoid placing unnecessary pressure and strain on her left ankle that would be caused by constant mobility during fighting. This means that Aryia`en is capable of dealing a good deal of damage to an opponent/opponents while remaining in a fixed spot throughout battle through swift, accurate blows and agile acrobatic movements in dodging blows and attacking.

One of Aryia`en’s most favoured offensive move is termed by her as the “3-strike -blow”, a move that she had personally created and incorporated into her fighting skill as it favours her speed and accuracy, designed to “distract, disable and destroy” an opponent in rapid succession. The first strike of “distract” utilizes a swift false offensive move that shifts her opponent’s focus and defense away from vital parts of their body. This is followed by the second strike of the move, usually through the use of her whip or darts eg. by disarming or blinding them. Then, the final part of the move follows immediately, usually a fatal blow by her swords or whip. Aryia`en’s combat moves are in general swift, forceful, accurate and graceful in manner. Opponents have described Aryia`en in combat as “performing a ritualized dance in motion, a fierce tempest of blows with a spirit of elegance and carefree ease."

Aryia`en has a very marked attitude towards battle and combat. To her, random force or violence, such as street brawls or a thuggish ambush, is disgraceful and a mere nuisance, thus, she does not hesitate to finish off instigators of such violence towards her in a ruthless and cold-hearted way, more often than not not hesitating to use less than honourable measures. However, a formal duel or battle to Aryia`en is viewed as something that is ceremonial and respectful, and she will adhere reverently to a code of honour – similar to that of the code of knighthood – during battle, even to the point of disadvantaging and endangering herself.

Clerical Skill:

Introduced to the clerical faith by Althis (see History), Aryia`en’s fascination and interest in clerical skills has never waned, even with the tragic death of Althis. However, after the loss of Althis, Aryia`en turned away from Nehtor to Armeros, identifying with Armeros’ brooding nature and the conflicting demands of honour and desire within Him. Aryia`en turns to Armeros and prays for the strength and wisdom to seek the balance within her, as well as for blessings for her skill in weaponry and combat, both in training and during battle.

Unknown to all but herself and Althis, Aryia`en seeks solace in prayer when she is burdened with troubled thoughts. Retaining her faith in clericy is Aryia`en’s way of externalizing her remembrance of Althis, whom she still feels a deep bond and connection to.

Aryia`en devotes her prayers to Armeros at least twice a day without failure, and has been doing so for almost 200 years. Aryia`en also prays to Armeros when troubled, and especially before, during and after battle. Her faith in Armeros allows her to invoke the strength and fury of Armeros during battle, enhancing her strength, dexterity and the keenness of her senses and mind. In the heat of battle, her blows with her swords and whip can at times be infused with a searing aura of thrusting force, allowing her strikes to penetrate sturdy armour or hurl opponent(s) several peds away, if a direct hit hasn’t already shattered the unfortunate opponent. The more intense the battle, the more intense Aryia`en’s flowing faith to Armeros.

However, Aryia`en is incapable of any manner of clerical casting. She cannot actively or consciously use or cast spells through belief, nor can she invoke Armeros’ might upon others. Also, Armeros’ favour is not granted to her when she is fighting in a less than honourable way (see Fighting Style). Aryia is not a cleric and does not wish to be one, but she believes that Armeros blesses her and rewards her for her unwavering loyalty and dedication to Him for over 200 years … and more, and she accepts Armeros’ blessings graciously.

Other Skills and Knowledge:

Like all other highly skilled members of her tribe, Aryia`en is skilled in the areas of hunting, weapon smithery, herbal lore, and survival skills. Weapon smithery skills enables Aryia`en to maintain her weapons in sterling condition at all times, as well as conducting minor modifications when desired. Her knowledge in herbal lore allows her to utilize herbs to heal minor wounds and afflictions.


A set of Elven chainmail
Light leather vests (2)
A dark hat with its diameter measuring a fore and a half.
Dark leather breeches (2)
A dark soft cloak.
A pair of dark gloves.
A pair of simple metal armlets.
A small supply of dark face paint.
Soft, dark knee-length traveling boots (2)
A black leather belt with 4 small pouches attached.
Her twin long swords.
Her Scourge.
The Coorán’lóh.
A tidy supply of her “salén pins” which are replenished as needed.
A pair of obsidian daggers.
A traveling backpack, in it a water flask, rations, her extra sets of clothing items, and whatever she may have on her at any given moment.
Saddle bags that are attached to her O’quadar’s custom saddles for extra storage space while travelling.


Over her long years, Aryia`en has had several familiars, mostly as riding companions. Her current familiar is a female O’quadar Riding Snake named Shaer, bought from a breeder in Marcogg while passing through there in her journeying during her 232nd year. Before that Aryia`en had a well-trained Rusik as a riding animal, but after setting eyes on one of the O’quadar, she felt an instant and great desire to own one, as the O’quadar reminded her of the graceful yet deadly movements of her whip, as well as being (to her) a symbolic representation of Armeros’ mythical creature, the Ur-Viper. She traded in her Rusik for Shaer, and both have been inseparable companions since then. Shaer is light yellow in colour with red stripes, and is approximately 11 peds in length and a ped in diameter.

Deadly Warrior
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Gender: Female
Posts: 56

Human, Kasumarii

« Reply #3 on: January 06, 2004, 01:15:22 AM »

Contact Info:
Email Address: minaaylwin@hotmail.com
MSN Messenger: minaaylwin@hotmail.com
And I'm often on the IRC channel.  

Kishara Laurenan
Gender: Female
Age: 36
Race: Human
Tribe: Kasumarii, Korenjaan sect
Occupation: Mercenary (assassin, spy, and basically anything else where her skills would come in useful)
Title: Korenjaan

Kishara has a slender and well-toned body due to her many years of training.  She is relatively tall, standing at 1.72 peds.  Her hair is pure white in colour, and quite long for a Kar'ii, reaching the middle of her back.  Her skin is a very pale shade of yellow, appearing almost white, while her eyes are grey in colour.  Most consider her quite beautiful, but also somewhat intimidating, due to her often cold and forbidding expression.  

The clothing Kishara wears depends on what she is doing.  When on a job that requires stealth, she often puts on tight a black shirt, trousers, and black shoes, as well as covering up her face and hair with a piece of black cloth to avoid being recognised easily if she is spotted.  On other occasions, her clothing is quite different, and stands out quite a bit more.  She wears a completely white outfit, consisting of a robe that is split to the waist along the sides, mid-calf boots, trousers tucked into her boots, a relatively wide sash, and a cloak.    

Kishara is a rather cold and unsociable person.  Over the years, she had lost many friends and family members, and most importantly, her parents, and her teacher Oren, who was like a father to her.  This has led her to become wary of becoming too close with people, for fear of losing them.  Thus, she is usually serious and businesslike in dealing with people, carefully avoiding any intimacy.  

Despite her forbidding appearance, which might give others that impression, Kishara is not a wicked person.  She will only take on a job if she feels that it is justified, and she is not easily swayed by money.  Well aware of the pain that could result from losing a loved one, she is careful not to kill unnecessarily.  She generally resorts to killing only when she believes that a person truly deserves death, or when she is left with no other choice.  

It must also be mentioned that Kishara detests orcs.  She will usually not hesitate to kill any she comes across, though she might tolerate their presence in situations where attacking them would be very unwise.  The reason for this is partly cultural--the Kasumarii had been fighting orcs on Cyhalloi for centuries--and partly because most of the friends and family members she has lost were killed by orcs.  

Fighting style:
Having been trained as an assassin, Kishara avoids actual combat as much as she can.  Still, she proves to be a formidable opponent when forced to fight.  She usually wields a moonblade in her right hand, and an armoured fan in her left.  If an opportunity presents itself, she might also use one of the nightooth throwing daggers she hides on her body.  Her fighting style is fast and aggressive, aiming to wear down opponents with a near-continuous stream of attacks.  She seldom resorts to defensive moves, parrying or dodging to one side only once in a while.  Instead, her usual response to an attack is to launch an attack of her own, hopefully forcing her opponent to break off and defend themselves, or risk serious injuries.  Speed is thus very important to her, as it helps her attacks to arrive more quickly, sometimes even before her opponent's.  

Kishara has been trained in the use of most of the Kar'ii's weapons, though in most cases, she knows only the basics, and aren't very good with them.   She is, however, extremely good with the armoured fan and moonblade, and usually wields both weapons together in combat.  Like most Kar'ii, she has also been trained in being stealthy, and, when she wants to, is able to move without making a single noise.  Finally, she is also a rather quick and agile person.  

Like many Korenjaan, Kishara suffers from overfocusing in combat, making her oblivious to almost everything else that is going on.  This is especially dangerous if she is fighting multiple opponents, because while concentrating on one opponent, she could easily leave herself open to attacks from the others.  She also lacks strength, and a well-placed hit from a strong opponent could easily disarm her, or even knock her out.  She is unfamiliar with hand-to-hand combat and non-Kar'ii weapons, and would probably be unable to defend herself effectively if deprived of her usual weapons.  

-A moonblade with a slightly curved hilt, making it easier to wield with one hand
-A rather large armoured fan, about a fore in length
-10 nightooth daggers hidden all over the body (2 at her wrists, 3 in her hair, and 5 in her sash)
-15 more nightooth daggers kept in the backpack

-Clothes (see clothing section)
-Weapons (see weapons section)
-A small backpack to hold things in
-A small pouch for holding money
-A small pouch holding a few vials of poison

Edited by: Kishara at: 1/6/04 13:55

Kissing Captain
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Gender: Male
Posts: 289


« Reply #4 on: January 06, 2004, 08:12:22 AM »

MSN: shareed121@hotmail.com
AIM: BazelBroketail
Yahoo: Aramil_Galanodel
e-mail: Shareed@rangers.silverwolf-den.com

Name: Kiushapo Avi Stetto
Age: 285
Race: Wood Elf
Height: 2 peds

Kiushapo has long sun-bleached blond hair usually left to fly in the wind. His skin is fair, and his hands dexterous. He is well muscled, but has a lean appearance. He wears a much battered dark green vest, suitable for hot and mild winter weather and black trousers, trimmed with silver at the waist, also the worse for wear. Around his waist rides his scabbard belt which holds two scabbards, a cutlass and a longsword, both plain to look at. On his feet are calf high black leather boots, well worn. His stride is strong and his steps are bouyant. He seems ready to brace himself against the next wave, despite being on land.
His face is strong, angular and youthful. His expression is one of eternal amusement and his hazel eyes are filled with an internal fire, ready to face any challenge. His smile is always ready and his laugh is not unpleasant to hear.
His only adornments are a pendant hanging from a silver chain on his neck portraying an arrowhead, and silver band around his upper left arm.

Kiushapo is a jovial elf, but he is also driven. When ever possible he is on the move, still living as a nomad, even though that life is behind him. He is quite sociable, but his incomplete mastery of the Santharian tongue and heavy accent sometimes makes him hard to understand. He has a great sense of humour, and if you let him, he'll talk your ear off with sailor tales and bawdy jokes. He may even throw in a song or two. He has a great appreciation for music, especially slow, haunting tunes. Quite often you can find him playing such a tune upon his flute, lost in thought and a wistful look upon his face. Long experience as a ships captain has given him the ability to sense a trustworthy person, but he is not fool-proof. Once you have befriended him, you can trust Kiushapo, for the most part. He will do no harm to good friends, but he is not above "borrowing" from mere acquaintances. Nothing major, just a few coins here, a horse there. And most likely he will return it if he can. Kiushapo is used to people following his orders and will take charge if you let him. When faced with a situation he does not understand, he will often spit out some philosophic saying, which just as often makes no sense what-so-ever. He is highly suspicious and sees omens and blessings in just about everything.

Longsword, scabbard
Money Pouch

Over a hundred years of longsword and cutlass experience
Over a hundred years of sailing experience
Good flute player
Leadership experience
Nomadic survival skills
Simple pick-pocketing skills (could take some coins from your pouch, but couldn't lift your watch for example)

Simple answers to life's questioning. T'would be a greater magic that I have ever been seeing.
Kiushapo's Story


Simple answers to life's questioning. T'would be a greater magic that I have ever been seeing.
Ryldor Gadriel
Miscreant Mage
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Gender: Male
Posts: 616

« Reply #5 on: January 06, 2004, 10:14:22 AM »

Contact info: nycroger1972@yahoo.com or IRC chat. I also have AIM (SN: RGSPHD) but unless you're on my buddy list, I won't see you, so please e-mail me first if that's your preference.

Name: Ryldor Gadriel

Gender: Male

Race: Elf

Tribe: Quaelhoirhim

Title: Miscreant Mage

Age: 170

Possessions: Ryldor routinely carries various thieves' tools and reagents for the spells he knows. His clothing is specially made to provide hidden storage, including false heels on his boots. His bright jackets/vests have black on the underside and flipping them over can dramatically alter his appearance. Bands worn on his forearms, under his jacket, hold an extra pair of lock picks and a small blade.

Appearance: To most, Ryldor seems quite the extravagant figure. Seldom does he enter a room without everyone knowing it. "I'm here. Let the fun begin," is a common opening statement whenever arriving somewhere. Typically clad in a brightly colored jacket or vest and full of exaggerated motions, the eye is naturally drawn to him. At 5.9 fore, Ryldor is a little below average for his tribe, but still taller than the average human. Weighing only 1.4 pygge, his slight frame is typical Quaelhoirhim elf. Unlike others from his tribe, his long black hair is almost always tied in a ponytail, usually with a cloth that matches his attire. His big blue eyes stand out against his golden skin and have melted many females. A short sword hangs on his belt in an ornate scabbard. Ryldor often talks about his skill as a swordsman, but anyone who?s ever seen him draw it or the poor condition of the blade doubts his claim. Boasts of skill as a merchant are also common from Ryldor.

The Ryldor one would see on a job is quite different from his usual image. Blacks and dark grays or browns replace the bright colors. A layer of padded armor is worn under his dark clothing providing some protection, but also helps disguise him, making him appear heavier. A sturdy knife for cutting and prying replaces the short sword, while a dagger is added to the other side. Pouches containing various reagents are also added to the belt.

Occupation: Ryldor generally holds himself out as a merchant, but his reputation as one is not very good. Often times, he will engage in a business endeavors to lend credibility to his cover, but those he deals with, usually find him to be ineffectual. He points to "interests abroad" to explain his livelihood.

Magic: As a former student of Ximax, Ryldor has attained a level 5 casting ability in Wind magic (not sure if I phrased this correctly)

Strengths: Ryldor is an accomplished thief and gatherer of information. As a former student of the Ximax Academy, Ryldor has some aptitude with Wind magic, which he uses mostly to help him in his thievery. Ryldor is very dexterous and has decent stamina, mostly from having to wait for opportunities in odd places.

Weaknesses: Ryldor has no aptitude with weapons, save for his dagger and even then barely. His non-rigorous lifestyle has led to a certain amount of atrophy and Ryldor is physically weaker than most. Ryldor doesn't put a lot of forethought into most matters, which gets him into trouble, as does the overzealous way he tries to please women.

Personality: Ryldor is a mischievous, capricious scoundrel. He takes little seriously, except for his thieving, and rarely thinks about the consequences of his actions. Wine, women and song would fill his days if he had his way (and could afford it). Practical jokes are common. A true extrovert, Ryldor is friendly virtually everyone until they give him reason not to be. Women have a special place in his heart and he goes to great lengths to try and please them. It?s not always reciprocated, as women tend to find him either charming or condescending.

Getting into places he doesn't belong gives Ryldor great joy and he has, on occasion, broken in somewhere and not stolen anything. He tries to limit his thieving to those he feels deserve it, either for wrongs committed against him personally or against society in general.

Animals: Probably Ryldor's most important purchase was a well-trained Rusik named Shadow. One of the darker of his breed, Shadow is Ryldor's constant companion and mode of transportation. A matte black leather riding saddle and black blanket, along with some soot to darken the lighter hooves help hide the horse and rider at night. Matching saddlebags provide storage.  

It is not enough to conquer; one must learn to seduce. ~ Voltaire

Edited by: Khiera at: 1/6/04 2:57

It is not enough to conquer; one must learn to seduce.  ~  Voltaire
Oh dearest Ryldor, dust thou know thy charm?; The clever smile soft upon thy face; Seem like a promise for to do no harm; Whilst I, enjoying thy tender grace; Should gaze in admiration at thy eyes; As azure as where highest heaven lay; Reflections of the clearest, truest skies; They seem to melt my very heart away!; And if thy lovely words were not as true; As thine eyes blue, still I'd believe thy claim; Of magedom. Magic turned a rosy hue; My cheeks. A spell thou cast upon this dame!; Thou art a most capricious scoundrel, yet; The sweetest gentlemen I've ever met.; ~ Rayne Avalotus
Luca the Thief
« Reply #6 on: January 06, 2004, 10:55:22 AM »

E-mail: faye_004@yahoo.ca
MSN: misfit_fae@hotmail.com
AIM: faye4070
Commonly gallavanting around the IRC.

Name:  Luca

Gender:  Female

Race:  Half-elf

Tribe:  Azhorhria/Aeolrhan

Age:  65 but appears just over 20 by human standards.

Class/Title: Outcast Thief
Luca could be described as the carefree incarnate. Her no-worries attitude and sense of humor makes her a wonderful person to be around as soon as one looks past her rude and outspoken ways. She has no problem with crushing, battering and in any other sense, breaking the law though holds strict morals towards those deserving. Though on the outside the thief has a very happy-go-lucky way of life, in actuality, Luca has had a rough past and knows that things will never be cherries and rose buds. At least not for her.

Luca is proud to go by several titles other than the obvious one of thief, some of which include pirate, merchant, barmaid, dancer, prison guard, prisoner and livestock (the latter is a long story, but sure to a smile on anyone’s lips).

Luca is a very pretty young woman with softly blended features of both her elven and human heritage. She is well formed with a slender build and a good balanced grace. Her skin and face are soft from her mother’s heritage but with a strong, almost defiant jaw. Her bold brown eyes are large and almond shaped with the fiery spirit clearly evident behind her dark eyes. When her soft pink lips aren't twisted into a cocky grin showing two rows of straight, white teeth, her face is bright with cheer that is reflected in glimmering eyes.

Luca's hair is a dark brown that is naturally highlighted with dark blondes and a very faint copper. She cuts it conventionally short just at the chin with a choppy and uneven cut along the bottom. It is not uncommon to find Luca’s hair done up in whatever fashion she minds. Bandana’s are common, a red scrap of cloth (well stained with what appears to have been food in a past life) is sometimes tied around her forehead. Luca is sometimes seen with random braids or beads or other small things tied into itself, and it’s far from strange to find a needle or lock pick hidden in there somewhere.

Luca is not very tall for one of elven blood, standing nearly a fore under two peds. Her ears are noticeably pointed in an elven fashion though not as long as usual for the Aeolrhan. She is slightly built, more for speed than strength, and her skin has been bronzed a crisp golden brown from many days under the sun. Even her nose and cheeks are lightly dotted with freckles, for Luca prefers walking during the day than under the starry night sky. Luca’s hands are nimble and quick as comes from living as a cutpurse since an early age. The half-elf is athletic, with slim, trimmed arms and legs toned for speed and agility.

Luca's clothing is quite basic. She wears a gray thick woolen sweater with the sleeves either hanging just short of her finger tips or rolled up below the elbow. Underneath the sweater she wears a tight fitting, white sleeveless shirt with a low, square collar. On her hands is a usually pair of faded black, fabric gloves that are loose on her palms. The fingers of her gloves are ripped off to allow Luca’s nimble fingers the maximum movement needed to be the skilled thief she is. Beneath the gloves Luca’s right hand is bound tightly in a long leather ribbon. Underneath the ribbon is a branding mark few have ever had the horror to see and so hideous that only some kind of terrible magic could be to blame. It is a complicated pattern of twists, turns and spirals burned into her flesh, the skin hardened and callused a weird white.

Luca is always sporting her dashingly short skirt of a dark gray, canvas material which falls just a little further than midway her thight. Underneath the skirt she wears a tight pair of black shorts that hug her legs tightly and are roughly three nailsbreadths longer than the actual skirt. The shorts serve the purpose of warmth and relative modesty. Around her waist at all times is a thick leather belt holding only her daggers and a various collection of purses and pouches that she keeps on hand. Sometimes under this she also sports a bright red sash, the ribbon ends dangling at her left side. Luca always wears a pair of well made boots that look like she’s never taken them off for all her sixty-some years. The soles are worn down to barely a layer of tough, hard-boiled leather, but still thin enough for the street-sensed thief to feel the cobbles beneath her feet as she walks.

Sometimes found around her neck is an old cloak made of a light material colored a violet so black it appears black, with a deep cowl to hide her face in the shadows when needed. Stitched inside are various pockets and hidden compartments into the cloak, allowing her to conceal whatever she fancies. Luca rarely wears the cloak, only in cold weather which she tends to avoid at all costs, and it can usually be found stuffed into her well worn pack.

Luca has a wonderful sense of humor and loves a good joke or prank, even if it is played on her. She can almost always be found cracking jokes and is always ready with a smooth comeback. Few can catch Luca off guard with an insult, unless it really hits home (whether on purpose or not), especially when it refers to her past. In these cases, the half-elf shows little of her hurt or surprise, but simply tries to escape the situation as smoothly and quickly as possible.

She is very laid back and unless she is immediate danger, her cares are more often than not worlds away. Some find it very irritating the way she brushes serious issues aside without a second thought, but it is all common place to the wanderer. Luca hates plans and taking orders, so more often than not, she follows neither. Since her way of life isn’t exactly legit, Luca sees no harm in breaking the law, or in her case, crushing it. She happily breaks into houses and spends the night, perhaps picking up a snack or some of the silverware. The thief is very rude, up-front and outspoken about her opinions. She speaks her mind and rarely thinks before she opens that mouth of hers. This gets her into trouble often and the thief can never understand why some people are just so uptight.

Luca’s personality is not exactly the most compatible one available. Few care to partner with her as Luca’s pranks and teasing are occasionally crude, and sometimes just plain mean. Her nonstop breaking of rules gets her landed in city dungeons and more than a few inn and shopkeepers and raised their blade to her wrists. Luca is easily liked if you get to know her, but she can make enemies just as easily, if not more. Luca is openly a thief; she does not hide her lifestyle and rarely hides her hands.

The thief has a tendency to blame herself for things that she is barely even involved in. Her intentions are good and her heart is pure, but Luca's mind is convinced that she is not worth being helped. The half-elf constantly walls herself away from people with shields of sarcastic comments and apparent independence. She tries to help from a distance and rarely takes credit for it if her intentions were pure from the start. It has been rumored that a shadow lurks city dungeons, picking the locks of the young or innocent, when Luca is in town.

Luca is very down to earth and honest when she wants to be. Though it seems that her head is in the clouds most of the time, Luca’s mind is always working to find the best way through something (though sometimes her idea of best does not match those around her). Her realism can sometimes be seen as pessimistic, but Luca only tells it as it is, even if she is leaving out some more gracious details. Bitter and cynical at times, the last place a person wants to be is in a debate with the thief on something like poverty, leadership or honor. She takes friendship very seriously and is not quick to honestly call somebody one. Sincere promises (though these are quite different from scheme promises’, the two sometimes hard to distinguish) are always kept and Luca will go to any length to help somebody who she is involved in. Though difficult at times to work with, the half-elf truly is a team player and is always trying her best, even if it isn’t quite “good enough” for others.

Luca has never been a religious person, whether with her homeland beliefs of the ten gods and the fae or the introduced ways of twelve gods of the elves. As a child, as reflected in the grown woman she is today, Luca and her friends never thought very highly of the ten gods but they did believe in them and they did give the temples their space. A few street urchins, kids from a very different ilk that Luca was used to, would go so far as to steal from temple offerings, but this was almost as low as stealing from the poor or elderly. Luca still believes in the ten gods and firmly sticks with the idea that the fae wander Santharia as well as her homeland. As for the twelve gods that she’s been hearing about for the past fifty years, she believes in these as well. In fact, Luca will believe any faith that is thrown at her. As usual, the half-elf has twisted common knowledge around with her own explanation. Any religion, any faith, any sect, any cult. They are all right. Every god that has ever had a follower exists. How much work they actually do in the world is completely up for debate. The half-elf’s theory is a little unorthadox, sure, but, granted, it can make for some very interesting conversations.


- Luca is quick and agile with reflexes like a cat. Her mind is always picking out exits and possible assets when she is in a new area. She can move with silence when needed and harbors good balance and hand-eye coordination. The thief excels at running long distances, her long legs carrying her far for long periods of time. Her ability to dodge and tack is uncanny and Luca has a fair share of skill when it comes to climbing.

- Calling claim to part elven heritage, Luca’s eyesight and hearing is better than most humans, though far from that of pure elves. Luca’s eyesight is excellent for spotting small details in crowded or cluttered areas, though her long distance vision, especially in bright sunlight, is none better than the average human, if not worse. Her hearing is excellent and Luca has an innate ability to pick out distinct sounds within noise, though identifying those sounds is difficult for her.

- As to be expected, Luca is quite one with her hands. Especially if they happen to find themselves in another’s pocket or purse. She has various thieving skills, such as exemplary slight-of-hand and pick-pocketing skills (her light as feathers touch is almost never felt when it shouldn’t) and a head full of schemes, plots and cons to get her way and pay. Luca is also fully equipped with a kind of charm and wit that some find either indescribably irresistible or irritating.

- Luca is very skilled with the dagger, her weapon of choice. She always has at least two on her person at any given time and is quick to retrieve them. The half-elf is also good at throwing her daggers and her aim is true. This skill comes from starting at an early age on the streets (though, at the time, the knives were only used for cutting ropes, fabric, pockets and dinner) and then with decades of practice.

- Luca is excellent when it comes to persuasion and talking people in or out of things. She has a way with words and can manipulate the weak minded easily. The half-elf has no problem lying or manipulating the truth to better suit things her way. Excellent at keeping a straight face, Luca is also capable of playing along with any story thrown at her. She has also picked up a scattering of understanding of the elvish language, though is far from fluent or even able to speak it and often gets words mixed up and confused (which can prove more of a trouble than an aid, especially when the half-elf is relied to translate…never a smart move). She is also well versed in the bizarre lingo of Thieves Cant which, in some circles, could be called a language of sorts (though that term is more than generous for the ever changing, mostly guessing, way of communication).

- As opposed to what most would think, Luca is a terrible realist. She understands that some people can be trusted, and some can’t. This realism can aid her as the thief understands how bad things can really get. She has a deep understanding and personal sympathy for the underprivileged, and knows from experience that the greatest of help and best of people can be found in the most unexpected places.

- Luca carries an enchanted amulet that allows her to summon lifelong partner and close friend, Pick. Pick is an eagle who will answer to Luca’s call and can communicate telepathically through the amulet with Luca so long she is wearing it. Pick can act as a spy (though the bird’s insane coloration can give anyone under watch pause) and navigator for the half-elf, though Luca usually calls upon her for simple companionship.

- Luca is truly at home in large cities, the busier the better. She can navigate back alleys and sewer systems with uncanny ability. She relates well with people, mainly other thieves or others of the same ilk. She is, as previously mentioned, fluent in thieves cant and knows the unwritten honor and rules within the systems. Luca knows that large cities are built more or less the same. Certain buildings or certain people can be found with ease if you know how they operate and, no doubt, Luca does.

- Luca is a petite woman, short and with a slight build, as well as physically weak. She can easily be overpowered. The thief does not take kindly to pain and has difficulty working around injuries, no matter how small or superficial. Luca is rather clumsy if she is not paying attention, her innate gift of silence wasted when she knocks things over. She is also rather easy to spot in a crowd, her less than common hairstyle an easy mark to find and if she is wearing her sweater, it is hard to miss the half-elf when walking down the street.

- Luca has never been properly trained with either a weapon or even basic combat skills. She is too small to wield large weapons and finds swords or other long blades cumbersome and difficult to maneuver with. Luca cannot parry or match attacks with any amount of skill, preferring to simply run away than face somebody in direct combat. She has a tendency to back herself into corners or lose her weapon at her own fault. Though much of her success is thanks to luck and a flailing array of blade wielding arms, Luca is more likely to strike an enemy down in an unmatched, chaotic melee than fighting a one on one duel. She does not fight well with allies and has tendency to drag the uninvolved into her “situations”.

- Luca has a tendency to ramble and perhaps let things slip that she shouldn’t. The half-elf’s sharp tongue and unthinking ways tend to land her sticky messes that could have been avoided. The thief’s lies can occasionally double back on her, leading her to a situation she cannot handle or bodging up whatever story she was trying to pass. The half-elf strictly believes that nobody should get any shred of respect until they’ve personally deserved it, no matter their social stature, age or where the tip of their weapon is.

- Luca has a general distrust of magic and the people that use it. She has no experience with magical items with the exception of her amulet, and refuses to use them. Luca is against magical healing and will decline it if she can (can usually translating to conscious). The thief has firm and very unusual views on the gods and religion and is quick to speak her mind, despite present company.

- Though Luca’s realism can be a great asset, it has also fueled her pessimistic side. On the outside, Luca seems like one of those fanatic optimists who will never shut up about how great life is. On the contrary, Luca has seen some terrible sights, most of them from her own life, and knows how bad things can, and will, get. She is distrusting to most and very slow to get close to anybody. Luca takes friendship serious to a maddening level and can sometimes become irate with people who don’t.

- Luca is not as well prepared as one who travels constantly should be. She does not carry her own tent or even a decent sleeping roll. Her cloak is a joke (no pun intended) and is barely fit to keep her warm or dry. She rarely has food stored with her and carries only a single water skin, which she sometimes neglects to fill when the chance arises. Luca is easily sidetracked and has very little self-discipline when on her own.

- Luca’s people skills are questionable. Though the thief is fun to be with, she takes almost nothing seriously and shows little outward sympathy to those she can’t relate to. Few wish to partner with the half-elf as it is obvious at first meeting that the thief could be more trouble than help. She harbors a general dislike of elves, people with money and authority figures.

- Luca is a thief. She disrupts the peace and breaks the law. The half-elf frequents jails and dungeons as well as having to deal with victims who wish to take matters into their own hands. Luca shows respect to few she knows, and never to somebody she has just met. Luca, especially in areas where this is little chance of finding a victim, has no way of providing for herself. When she travels, the half-elf relies purely on hunting rabbits and eating fruit, following streams and other water sources from town to town. If sidetracked or somehow handicapped on her own, the half-elf has next to no chance.

- To put it bluntly, Luca is really quite daft. She lacks any formal education and knows only what she has seen, as well as suffering from illiteracy. She can be stubborn as a mule at times and closed minded to new ideas. The half-elf lacks a certain amount of common sense and is slow to understand things when put to words. She never thinks ahead or of the consequences, preferring to things on a whim than plan things out. Other people’s plans never seem to click in the half-elf’s head, and even though she may appear to be nodding excitedly, its more often than not going in one pointed ear and out the other.

- Though Luca is not a greedy person, a situation which could aid her is very appealing to the half-elf. She is quickly veered off topic and promises of a reward can cloud her good judgement. Though she is pure hearted and likes to help others, Luca can’t help but think of herself and sometimes puts herself in front of others. This was how one had to survive on the streets, and the half-elf doesn’t look to change anytime soon.

Luca has a permanent set of twin daggers that she keeps snugly hidden away under her belt. They are just under two palmspans long from base to tip of the blade. The daggers are of elven craft with perfect balance and a wooden hilt fitting for Luca’s thin hands. The bases’ of the hilts are topped with a thick cap of copper which Luca uses often to knock unsuspecting victims out while she does away with their belongings. Along with these daggers, Luca usually has one or two stolen ones stashed about.

The magical amulet that allows her summon Pick is extremely valuable to Luca. At the end of the thin leather thong, hangs the single talon of an eagle. Engraved on the claw are special runes and symbols of a language unknown to the half-elf, the language of magic. When Luca summons or dismisses the bird, the runes and carvings on the amulet glow a faint white light. She wears it around her neck like a necklace, while a simple ring band with mirrored runes is worn about Pick’s right talon where the claw used to make the artifact had once been. At times, when Pick is stressed or lacking energy, the amulet feels heavier and slightly warm, the claw being directly connected with the bird and the magic used to allow the two to communicate. The amulet does not so much let Luca read Pick’s mind, but more for Pick to read bits of Luca’s mind and implant thoughts of her own back into the thief’s mind. The power of the amulet is not limited to only Luca, for anybody who wears the claw around their neck has the ability to communicate with the eagle, but Luca would be very stupid to allow somebody to wear such a precious item.

Luca does not believe in carrying around bulky packs with tons of supplies. She has a simple bag that hangs easily over one shoulder from its one remaining strap. She's had it most of her life, having kept personal items and small amounts of money in it as a child and bringing it with her to store stolen goods. It has several pouches on the outside that carry small items she uses regularly (steel and flint, small cooking knife, etc.) while the main compartment holds larger items like a small skillet and her cloak when she isn't wearing it.

Pick is Luca’s magical eagle and best friend since she left the desert. The bird is about a fore tall with a great wingspan just over two fores. Her feathers are of the oddest coloration, having taken on a crimson red hue over the many years in close contact with strange and powerful magic. The eagle’s true age is unknown as Pick refuses to reveal it to Luca (you know how women are) but the bird has been known to Luca for over fifty years and has mentioned previous owners. The eagle can communicate via the amulet to whoever is wearing it, which is why Pick could never talk with Luca when she wore it on her ankle. Speaking with Luca or just being near the bearer of the amulet, drains energy from Pick and she must return to her home to regain her strength. Nobody is quite sure where Pick goes when she is not summoned by Luca, but the bird rather enjoys her times of solitude in the forest.

Pick has a very defined personality. She is rather cynical and incredibly sarcastic. The eagle has a relationship with Luca that borders on sisterhood and babysitting. Though the two appear to fight constantly, there is an incredibly strong bond between Luca and Pick and they would fight to the death for each other. Pick, being able to read Luca’s mind through the enchanted claw, can pick up subtleties in the half-elf’s thoughts that Luca herself might not notice. The eagle knows the shadows that plague Luca every once in a while and knows when to keep quiet, just to be there as a friend and supporter.

"Never mistake knowledge for wisdom. One helps you make a living; the other helps you make a life"

Edited by: Luca the Thief at: 6/20/05 5:06
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« Reply #7 on: January 09, 2004, 11:00:22 AM »


ICQ: Angron - 165717879

Name: Benjamin "Benjo" Shroden

Age: 17

Gender: Male

Place of birth: Small village in the Auturian Woods, close to the Serphelorian border

Race: human

Tribe: Avennorian Men

Heigth: 1.75 peds

Width: 0.5 peds

Weigth: just over 1.5 pygges

Occupation: carpenter apprentice, bullseye

Title: Young Craftsman

Benjo stands at an average heigth of just over 1.7 peds, but with a more muscular tone to his body than most others of his age and tribe. After all, he ain´t a kuglim, right? His dark-blonde hair is short and unkept. The colour of his wakeful eyes is a greyish blue. A small scar on his left cheek-bone reminds him of his first brawl. Benjo mostly wears a longsleeved light green or brown tunic over a shortsleeved white shirt, together with ochre leather-pants and dark-brown leather boots. His tunic is held together by a studded leather belt, to which his sword-scabbard is always attached to.

Benjo is a friendly, but quiet and introverted young man. He keeps to himself most of the time and usually only talks when it is in necessary or when he is asked to. Unfortunetaly, when angered or mocked or insulted, Benjo often keeps his displeasure to himself and kind of stores it. This sometimes resulted in fits of rage and, in worst cases, tavern-brawls.

Due to the everyday work on the carpentry, Benjo has built quite strong muscles for a young man of his age. His skills in working with wood are well above average, and he is very adapt in graving figurines of all sizes. Benjo seems to have a natural talent for using the short-bow his uncle gave to him. The short-sword he carries with him on trips with his friends is only used for self-defense, and he seems to have a talent for using it aswell.

Although Benjo shows high amounts of strength over a certain period of time, his stamina is relatively low. He rather tends to walk or stroll somewhere than to jog or even run somewhere. Benjo is also likely to overestimate his own skills and underestimate those of his opponent. Despite of his age, Benjo has already had various...let´s say adventures, with alcohol. One might call it a drinking-problem. Once he has a drink, he can´t stop that easily.

What benjo always carries with him:
A simple short-sword & quickdraw scabbard, common knife, leather belt to which his sword and knife are attached to, small pouch for everyday-things such as a bit of money etc. To this, he normally wears a short-sleeved shirt under a long-sleeved tunic, together with ochre leather pants and dark brown leather boots.

What he keeps at home:
A set of graving-knifes, several tunics of shades of green and brown, one fine tunic, deep blue in colour. Spare leather pants and spare leather boots. A small backpack. A simple short-bow and a waist-quiver with some arrows in it, a leather bracer to protect his forearm from the bowstring.

Don´t talk unless you have to, don´t laugh unless you want to.

Edited by: Khiera at: 1/21/04 4:30
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« Reply #8 on: January 20, 2004, 02:14:22 PM »

Contact Info:
email- jtang645@yahoo.com

Name: Mavrus Driscol

Gender: Male

Age: 24

Height:  2 Peds

Weight: 2.63 pygges

Race: Human

Tribe: Centoraurian

Title: Knight Protector

Physical Appearance:
In a forest of Adlemirs, Mavrus wouldn’t seem out of place.  But in a crowd of people, his stout, muscular figure towers over almost everyone.  Mavrus’s skin is of fair tone, definitely not pale, but more of a tan color.  His hair is light brown, and while he can grow an “awe-inspiring” beard, he is clean shaven aside from his side burns, which he allows to grow out.  A hook-like nose centers his face just below his eye line where two sunken dark blue eyes lay.  Mavrus is well toned due to an extremely harsh morning workout, a routine which he practices daily.  There is a very small dent on the left side of his forehead due to the first time he dueled his father.  His father had caught Mavrus with his guard down and smashed his head with the hilt of his sword.

Mavrus is rarely seen without his armor.  While the full plate armor might be a difficult task for some to sleep in, Mavrus has mastered this feat.  But underneath it all, Mavrus wears a dark green tunic and leather pants kept up by a leather belt with a buckle that has a design of a gold sword against the silver buckle.  Mavrus doesn’t care about his appearance all that much, but for some odd reason, he is in search of a dark green cloak or cape.  He also wears Centoraurian riding boots, which were made specially for him due to the size of his feet.

Honor consumes Mavrus’s life.  It is what he lives by.  It controls his actions, his words, his battle.  His whole life, taught to him by his father, is based on the fact that he has honor.  His dream is to live an honorable life, and die and honorable death.  Mavrus has a very cold look to him.  He seems almost unfeeling, unloving.  This is just a strict outer mask, he cares much about his close friends and family, and would do anything to protect their honor.  Mavrus is also fearless, as he does not fear death in battle(he believes that it would be honorable to die in battle), but only fears that he might die while not fighting for what he believes in or fighting at all.  Mavrus is extremely haughty which can lead to some problems.  There aren’t many men more proud and chivalrous than Mavrus, of his upbringing and honor.  He also has a natural love for horses because of his upbringing.

Mavrus is disgusted by drinking, stealing, or anything else remotely associated with dishonesty.  He hates bars and thinks of them as stinking, festering pits where truth and honor are immensley lacking.  Mavrus is often harsh with people because many do not have the same extreme values as he does.  He isn’t exactly the “life” of the party either.  Mavrus is quite intelligent, and therefore isn’t all that trusting.  He respects a man or woman who can hold their own in battle.  Mavrus may not trust someone, but he respects everyone, until it is clear they don’t deserve it.

In battle, Mavrus fights as if every enemy was as honorable as him.  He will not strike an opponent on the ground, nor one that isn’t facing him.  At times, he may put his life in danger just because of his beliefs of battle.  A timely salute to his enemy begins every duel or battle.  

Mavrus’s sword technique is quite dexterous.  He believes that the art of using a sword is meant to be a highly polished artwork.  He strives for perfection, not taking a hack and slash view over one of skill.  Preferring a two handed sword over a sword and a shield, he uses his strength to win over physics and bring back his sword for the parry.  Mavrus is also quite adept at fighting while on horseback, though only the strongest warhorse can carry him.

-Skillful with a sword
-Honorable and Chivalrous
-An ability to ride horses very well
-He also seems to be able to calm horses and work with them well

-Honor in battle can at times put him at a disadvantage
-An attitude full of pride that can get him into trouble
-Being so tall and bulky, Mavrus cannot easily escape detection(though he despises hiding), nor can he move around as easily.

Mavrus carries a two handed sword into battle, nothing special about it, though he wishes to later customize his own sword.

-A backpack containing spare clothes
-Customized Centoraurian Riding Boots
-Pouch of coins
-Flask of water
-A silver chain with a reddish rock that appears to be a rose
-Two handed sword
-Full plate armor

Uhh, nothing I can think of at the moment.

Character Description

Bahran the big
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Posts: 1254

« Reply #9 on: January 21, 2004, 12:13:22 PM »

Contact info:

ICQ: 148731365
MSN: Bahranbigman@hotmail.com (not e-mail)
AIM: Bahranbigman

Name: Bahran Bahran
Sex: Male
Occupation: Mercenary
Race: Human
Age: 44
Tribe: ½ Helvet’ine Kuglimz and ½ Sophronian

Bahran has a darker complexion then most of the Kuglimz, with dark green eyes and a large, flat nose. Standing at 2 ¼ peds tall, and well over 2 pygges, his body is big and he has a bit of an ale-gut. For his age, Bahran looks terribly old and weathered. He has a short beard that only goes about nailsbreadth under his chin. Bah’s face is covered with numerous scars from his days of battle.

Bah wears a large plate of leather armor on his upper half, which extends down his arms. He also wears a strong leather kilt, displaying his well-toned and rather large calves. On his feet, Bah wears large brown boots that match the rest of his clothes and almost reach his knees.

He'll stay with a party, as long as nobody says anything that can be conceived as derogatory by him, about him. He is very out going, just not very nice, unless he's drunk. He’s always drunk now, however, and hangovers seem to effect him very little. He is the almost the exact opposite of his normal side when he is drunk, he's nice and friendly. He's a good companion to have around. He likes to be called Bah for short.

Bahran has considerable physical power and is quite strong.
His swordsmanship is notable.
Bahran can hold his own in any drinking game.

Bahran is a bit slow in the head.
He has a very bad short term memory.
Bahran has a terribly short attention span.
What Bahran has in strength and experience, he lacks in speed.

Long sword
The clothes on his back
A couple bottles (at least) of strong ale (at all times)
A small sack that can be used to carry food when traveling  


Indifference will be the downfall of mankind, but who cares?

Edited by: Bahran the big at: 7/20/05 17:24

"Man, being reasonable, must get drunk; The best of life is but intoxication."
- Lord Byron
Fishhook The Orc
New Santharian

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Posts: 59

« Reply #10 on: March 05, 2004, 04:03:22 AM »

Contact me on

Jq1crs@bolton.ac.uk  Sorry that's all.  Am steeenking Techneaderthal!

Name Fishhook the Orc
Race Ashz-Oc Orc
Height 1.8 peds
Weight 2.4 pygges
Starting Location Nyermersys
Title Muscle


Fishhook is an orc, with all that entails. He has dark green skin and wears his hair in the style of his tribe. Fishhook does this as a memento of his lost homeland. He has black irises with white rims. His teeth are prominent and his breath smells. At night, when he his mostly about, he will sometimes wear war paint. This is used mostly to intimidate. He walks confidently, except when he is acting the ‘dumb orc’. The rare times he goes out in the day, or when he is not going about his 'professional' business, he wears voluminous cloaks to try to hide what he is.


Fishhook is intelligent for an orc (about the same as the average uneducated human). He is under-educated, but he isn’t stupid and has learnt the hard way that constant aggression is not the way to live a long life among humanity, though he is capable of being as terrifyingly violent as any orc, especially if he drinks. When sober, he is cunning and will play the archetypal stupid orc, if it puts ‘business’ contacts in the wrong.

He sometimes gets morose, thinking about his family, which is very far away and can only be cheered up by drink (for a while) and flute music, which calms him.

Fishhook is very ruthless when it comes to helping to run his small gang, the Dead Jetsam and rules them through a mixture of terror and encouraging loyalty through good rewards. In many ways he has tried to model his dock thugs on an orc family clan.


Fizhak was unfortunate enough to be born into a clan that failed in its ambitions to become more powerful among the Ashz-Oc Orcs. After years of being forced and hunted out of the good lands, the few dozen survivors clung to a living raiding the human settlements on the edge of the Ashz-Oc lands.

During one raid, when he was 9, Fizhak was hit by a spear in the leg and he was captured along with several others and was beaten half to death and paraded to the village green. Luckily for Fizhak, there was a travelling merchant called Master Ymir who did a sideline in freaks of nature and wonders of the world. Seeing this small limping orc, Ymir put an offer to the villagers for Fizhak. At first, they refused bitterly, desperate to avenge those men and cattle lost in the raid.

Ymir offered a good price though and reasoned that after the raid, the gold would help rebuild and strengthen their defences. Wise heads in the village prevailed and Fizhak was put in the cage that would be his home for five years.

Master Ymir and his men took Fizhak and the other curiosities from community to community allowing the orc to be prodded and poked by the people they traded with. Ymir himself was indifferent as long as Fizhak, (or Fishhook as he became known, for the quiet noise he repeated all the time), stayed alive and not too sick. Some of the other men were less kind. Maglo, for example, had lost his wife to an orc raid, and bullied Fizhak mercilessly, especially with the Troll-Whip (has Maglo called it) he had made as part of the show. It was a vicious whip with three tails and pieces of jagged iron knotted into it. It was used as part of the show when Fizhak (chained by the neck to a post) would be threatened with the whip and made to take amusing poses and such. He wasn’t supposed to be struck, but Maglo would always ‘underestimate the distance’ at least once per show.

While in the cage, Fizhak picked up the rudiments of human language and simple mathematics (counting up to ten, for example), from the less vicious guards.

Meanwhile, the show was getting too big (in Ymir’s opinion) for the north, and he accepted a commission to show his curiosities to a noble in Nyermersys. The Master accepted and the show went on the road to the Lord’s Estate. The territory was dangerous and Ymir decided to go by Sea and then up the river Teiphra in order to avoid the most dangerous territory.

Fishhook went mad when he got on the ship and had to be battered almost senseless to calm him down. Apart from this the trip itself was uneventful. The trouble came at the Nyermersys Docks. Unfortunately, for Ymir, he had enemies and even more unfortunately, they succeeded in having him killed. In order to distract the men who might chase and catch them, the assassins had let out all the animals and curiosities out of their cages, including Fishhook.

At first he was confused and then he went looking for Maglo. He found him wounded near the body of Ymir. It did not go well for the man. Fishhook now carries the Troll-whip as a memento.

After the commotion, Fishhook wandered around near the dock area. He tried to mind his own business, as much as he could as an Orc in a Human town. Over the next year he became a fixture, earning his way as a dockside labourer and occasional bodyguard or tavern bouncer.

It was while working as a bodyguard that he became part of the Jetsam, a small criminal gang running petty crime and a pickpocket ring in the docks of Nyermersys. Fishhook’s inclusion in the gang gave them the edge against most of the other smaller gangs in the docks., They started to work for some of the bigger gangs, usually as extra muscle in the many turf wars. They have so far managed to maintain their independence.

Over time Fishhook rose in the ranks until he has become Second in Command to Seph. This suits Fishhook, who gets to influence the leader without being the target of ambitious underlings. He has turned down the leadership twice, preferring to seem more like an underling. This is the position Fishhook finds himself now.


Fishhook as all the strength of an adult orc, with all that implies. He is intelligent for an orc, leading to a tendency to underestimate him. His years of body-guarding have given him a good grounding in street fighting and his hours of practicing with the Troll Whip have made him deadly with it. He has a innate understanding of the way people think and can be surprisingly insightful. For example, during fights, he will roar a lot and flex his muscles, understanding that this makes inexperienced opponents nervous.


Fishhook doesn’t drink much, but when he does, he really does. His behaviour is, by turns, spectacularly violent and maudlin. Ordinary law-abiding people, who sometimes still run screaming from him occasionally, do not treat him with respect. He is clumsy in combat, tending to rely on his brute strength and whip, and can be at loss against quick, intelligent opponents. He also gambles too much in simple games and this has kept him relatively poor. After all the years of abuse, he fears and hates northern Men and has a very strong disinclination to being tied up.


The Troll Whip, a three tailed whip made of rope, studded with sharp jagged edges.

The Big Stick, a big stick.

A cot in the Warehouse that the Jetsam calls home.

5-60 San

Some big cloaks, for day travel.

War paint.


The Dead Jetsam

The Dead Jetsam are a small to middling sized gang 15-25 members at any one time. They are lead by Seph, a Voldarian of around 27 years old. Fishhook is second in command and is considered in charge of ‘security matters’. They have fingers in many pies, including smuggling, pick pocketing, protection and gambling rackets.

Although independent of the serious gangs in the docks and elsewhere in Nyermersys, they are not above being hired as extra muscle. They are respected for their violence and for their honour. They never take on more than one such assignment on time. They are also sure to keep the forces of law on their side, with well-placed bribes and threats.

The Dead Jetsam do have enemies amongst the smaller gangs, most of whom have survived beatings as the Jetsam have risen in the heriarchy of illegal gangs in Nyermersys. Because of this, their warehouse cum hideout is heavily defended.

We du swap, yah? fur, yah? yoo give mee ten coin, yah? I give yoo unbrokun bodee, yah? yah?

So yah wunt tah na mee storee. Cost yah 3 Sahn

Tzilon Ikara
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Gender: Male
Posts: 168

Human, Epheronian

« Reply #11 on: June 01, 2005, 12:21:22 PM »

Contact Info:
Email: onelesshero@sbcglobal.net
AIM: NochesAsesino

Tzilon Ikara

(pronounced SIGH-lon eh-KAR-ah)

Gender: Male

Age: 30

Race: Human

Tribe: Epheronian

Occupation: Wolf's Head (bandit)

Title: the Dragonslayer (This is a hereditary title, passed on to the first born Ikara males. According to legend, the family patriarch, Jorge Ikara, killed a great wyrm during the Dragonstorm. This story was never verified.)

Overview: Tzilon is a generally good, honest man, yet he is emontionally unbalanced from his past. He is an able fighter with the sword and gifted with the bow, but his greatest weapon is his will, and once he has decided to help someone, only death can stop him.

Physical Appearance: Tzilon is thin, and has a slightly muscular build. He is just under 2 peds, an weighs one and a half pygges. His long hair is grey, and has been all his life. Tzilon's eyes are green, and have the "piercing" look common in most Erpheronians. His most remarkable feature is a scar that runs from a little above his eye to down past his cheekbone.

Clothing: Tzilon wears a loose fitting tunic that connects in the front, and the cow-leather pants of the Epheronian lower class. Over this, however, he wears a dark red (almost brown) cloak, with the Epheronian phoenix emblazoned on the back.

Personality: Tzilon can be charming, yet vicious when provoked; outgoing, yet never truly open; noble, yet petty, when it comes to dealing with officials and those in athourity. He is generally kind to most people, yet can hold very strong grudges towards those who have hurt him, which makes him slightly bitter and caustic. He is extremely strong-willed, which comes from having to fend for himself most of his life. Even though he may not realize it, he is searching for a home, and true love.

Strengths: Tzilon is a able swordsman; however, his strength lies with the bow. Self-taught, this skill places him above and beyond the other men of his hometown. Like most people of rougish occupation, Tzilon is a master of stealth and evasion, and normally will employ this skill rather than direct combat. He also is a natural-born actor, which sometimes leads him to take jobs as a flimflammer, or con-man. Although it may not be readily obvious, he does strive to be honest and true in his actions. He has a natural cleverness that allows him to see the best action to take when in a tight spot.

Weaknesses: Tzilon tends to shut people out before they get to close, and has a hard time trusting anyone. Becaue of his tendency to hold grudges, his actions sometimes are illogical, and he loses many a potential ally. Also, his vision is next to nothing in his left eye, due to the wound recieved there. This is a hinderance in close-range fighting, as someone could easily sneak up on that side of him. Because of his history as a bandit, he has a hard time finding honest occupation.

In the village of Emryden, a child was born to Silas and Miaela Ikara. The child was unexpected; the Ikaras never planned to have a child, nor wished to. They gave their son the name Tzilon, and, along with life, was one of the few things they ever gave to him.

At the time of Tzilon's birth, Silas was a prominent merchant in Emryden, and a member of the town's council. His wife, Miaela, was also a busy and respected woman, and worked as Silas' chief assistant, her brilliant mathmatical mind making her a invaluble help to her husband. The greater their buisness grew, however, the more neglected their child became. Tzilon was passed to countless caretakers as the his parent's ventures became more frequent.

When Tzilon was eleven years old, Miaela contracted an unknown disease while on a buisness trip abroad. Silas did everything he could for his wife, but he was helpless, and watched his life-partner slowy waste away. When the disease had entered the final stages, Miaela had her son brought to her. Half-crazed with pain, she screamed curses at Tzilon, blaming him for her sickness. The terrified child started to slowly back away, but she flung out her unkempt hand, her finger raking down across his eye. From that day onward, Tzilon Ikara retained a scar across his eye, and the memory of his mother's madness in his heart.

Two weeks later, Miaela Ikara was pronounced dead. Silas was hardened by his grief, and threw himself completely into his buisness, ignoring his son more than ever. When Tzilon turned thirteen, Silas was elected to the office Mayor of Emryden. He was intending to send Tzilon away to a far-off school, where he needed to have nothing more to do with him than monetary support; however, Tzilon's grandfather, Kerl, intervened.

Kerl Jojal was a Dalorin priest who had traveled with his coven to Emryden when news reached him of his daughter's sickness. Although he arrived too late to be of any help to her, he was able to prevent Tzilon's further castration from his family. He took the young man with him as he left the town, and raised him to manhood, giving him a sense of truth and justice. Although he tried his best, he never seemed to instill in Tzilon a love for academics, or even the healing arts.

Eventually, Kerl realized that the Dalorin sect was not the place for the young man, and realized he could do no more for him. On Tzilon's twentieth birthday, his grandfather sent him out into the world to find his own home. He wandered from town to town, developing his emerging skills, especially with archery (which he had loved since he was a child).

After fifteen years spent away from Emryden, he finally returned, but not to stay. Tzilon had gone there for one thing: the family's hereditary title of Dragonslayer. He could no longer bear the thought that his father carried the noble name; his father, who had neglected and never cared for him, a man who had fixed himself in Tzilon's mind as one of the most cruel and heartless man in Santharia. Whether this was the truth or not, he was determined to steal the Parchment of Titlement, and make the Dragonslayer name his own.

Tzilon arrived in Emryden in the dead of the night, when all the city was asleep, save the city watch and a handfull of revelers. The memories of the city flooded back to him, some melencholy, some painful. He resolve stregthed him, and, blocking out these thoughts (as he had become so skilled at), he went about his work. Making his way to the old Ikara mansion, he left his horse outside, slowly and quietly scaled the wall, and finally entered his father's study. He crept to the corner of the room, where there sat a tall vase that had not moved for as long as he could remember. Reaching in, he clutched the old, worn parchment, and drew it from its resting place.

Suddenly, he heard footsteps running down the hallway, shouting. Tzilon sprinted toward the window, climbed down the rope he had left there, and jumped on his horse. But before he had gone far, a small twinge in his heart caused him to turn around and look at the window he had just left. There was an old man standing there, and with a start, Tzilon realized it was his father. But the deed had been done, and the thinking about the past would only make things worse. Regaining his focus, he wheeled the horse back toward the town gates, and rode of to other places, believing that the past was now far behind him.

Alhough Tzilon believes he lives in search of adventure, a time is coming soon when the past will catch up with him, and he will have to make a decision about love, where he belongs, and reconciliation with history...

Weapons: Bow and Epheronian Broadsword

Belongings: Parchment declaring Jorge Ikara and his decsendents to hold the title of Dragoslayer  

I grafted my soul

To the promises of fallen angels


New Santharian

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« Reply #12 on: June 01, 2005, 08:14:22 PM »

(This post is missing and can not be restored)

Jee Macnamara
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« Reply #13 on: June 02, 2005, 07:36:22 AM »

Name: Jee Macnamara

Gender: Male

Age: 25

Race: Human

Tribe: Helcrani

Title: Vanquisher of Ills

Physical Appearance: Jee is a rather heroic looking figure. He has shoulder length dirty blond hair with a dashing swoop in the middle. As a general rule he is clean shaven, but has on occasion been known to go a day or two without shaving. He has a strong chin which goes quite well with his wonderful smile. His blond hair accents his dark blue eyes. Jee looks strong, but not muscular, he’s just well-toned. His legs look quite powerful and he has a barrel chest. Jee is a little over moderate height, about 1.9 peds or there abouts, and weighs around two pygges.

Clothes: Jee doesn’t wear the traditional clothes of his people, but has decided to get all custom made armor, to show he’s serious about what he does. He wears a black light-weight cloth shirt, over that he wears a shirt of chain mail, covered by a breastplate specially designed to deflect arrows. He wears dark brown pants covered by a piece of custom-made armor which can only be described as fully articulated metal chaps. This vanquisher wears black boots that go about knee high, over the pants but under the chaps. Over all of it, Jee has a blood red cape that is just a nailsbreadth from dragging the ground, only adding to the look of a war hero.

Personality: Jee has the personality of a famed war hero, always eager to tell of stories from his past. While he’s famed for being in wars, he is no hero, and he doesn’t pretend to be. When he tells his stories, he lies about no detail. He tells of his exploits at the small battle on the outskirts of Thaelon, in which he fled before the enemy came into view because he was afraid he left his fire going (which he incidentally did, and came home to a house half burned down). Or of the rather large battle of Voldar, where he had slight foot pains, and thought it best to sit this one out. He is very engaging and somehow, despite his obvious cowardice, seems to be quite the ladies man.

Strength- Jee is quite strong, and packs some power when he actually does something that requires power.
Proficiency with a Sword- Due to his training as a young man, he is quite good with a sword, but this really isn’t tested in actual battle.
Power of Words- His engaging nature makes him quite likable.
Cowardice- His cowardice is somewhat of a hidden strength, seeing as how he might not be around had he actually fought in a battle.

Cowardice- One weakness would of course be his cowardice.
Water- Jee has a fear of water. A glass of water is okay, but ask him to cross a river and you’re gonna be disappointed. If you get him on a boat, somehow, he’s gonna be having a panic attack the whole time.
Pressure- When someone's pressing him for information, his brain tends to lock up and he can't seem to reason anything out.

Jee’s father was a ruthless major in the military of Helcrani. His squad was fearless, and all the foes they ever faced were defeated quickly with precision and tact. They bravely faced the well trained dissidents at the Clash of Hellsforge and the ruthless warmongers at the Tussle in Thaelon. Jee’s mother however, was a completely different story. She was just a simple washer woman in the military messhall. Jee’s father spied her beautiful face one day, while eating lunch, and fell in love. After countless times of asking to court her, she finally gave in. And within a few weeks, they were married.

A few years after they first got married, a little Jee was born. He was a big baby, so it was suspected that he’d big a big boy, and that he was. By the time he was ten he was already about 1.5 peds, dwarfing the other children. This added height gave him seniority over the other boys, and they all looked up to him. It was strongly expected of him to become a colonel or possibly a general in the army.

He trained hard like most of the other children. They went to the gym and practiced all day sometimes. Jee became very efficient with his chosen weapon, which just so happened to be the same as his father, the war sword. Jee practiced with the family sword, it proved to be cumbersome at first, but he soon got used to the weight and was able to wield it proficiently. Vanquisher, for that was the swords name, was passed down to Jee on his 15th birthday.

A few years later, when he turned 18, Jee joined his father’s squad. They trained harder than any other squad in the entire army. Jee went a couple years without seeing battle, but soon it seemed that there was a minor scuffle, and his squad was assigned to take the vicious enemies that were attacking a small village on the outskirts of Thaelon. He was all pumped up, ready to fight and kill some infidels. As they arrived, however, and he saw those menacing foes, he remembered a very important fact: he left a fire going in his oven. So, he promptly excused himself and ran back to his house, feeling quite deflated. But, he was strangely relieved to return home to a flaming building, with some local woman throwing water on it. Jee may have lost his home that day, but he was justified. He weaseled his way out of several more tiny scuffles after this one, claiming foot pains, headaches, a cold, and many other excuses.

During the down time of running away from fights, Jee found it necessary to do certain things, such as eating, sleeping, and... well that's all he found necessary. But, to do these things he required money, seeing as how the fleeing business wasn't all that profitable these days. He really had no useful skills, except swordsmanship, but seeing as how he got along with his life pretty well, fighting for a living was out of the question. He had realized that people liked his stories, but he doubted they would pay to hear them. But, one day when he stumbled across a little chicken, he had an epiphany. If he told his stories while the chicken danced... he could make money! After accumulating all his money over about three or four years, and the inheritance he got when his father was killed in a minor battle, he had enough to pay for some pretty custom-armor, he figured it would be good for business, because it added to his story.

When questioned later about his war record, he said, “It’s better to die whimpering like a little girl than trying to be a hero.”

Familiars: Jee's has a chicken he met as he was fleeing from a skirmish one time. He named the chicken Hobart, after no one in particular. Hobart is completely white, except not. Oh, and he dances.

-Everything mentioned in "Clothes" section
-Vanquisher, his family sword
-No money

Brodin Gerdrard
New Santharian

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Posts: 20

« Reply #14 on: June 03, 2005, 01:02:22 AM »

Name – Brodin Gerdrard

Gender - Male

Age - 28

Race - Human

Tribe – Caltharian

Occupation – Wandering, Former Merchant

Title – Disheartened Merchant

Overview – Once an extremely successful, wealthy merchant, Broden now resides in a pool of self-pity after his business partners backstabbed him and ruined his business.

Physical Appearance – Brodin’s handsomely bold face appears almost out of place set upon his stocky frame. He stands at 1.6 peds and weighs 1.7 pygge. Brodin is typical of most Caltharians with light blue eyes and a short mop of blonde, unkept hair set upon his head.

Before he lost everything, Brodin was like most Caltharians and enjoyed wearing brightly dyed colors of cloth. But once he started traveling, Brodin started wearing clothing of the Erpheronian style. Most commonly, he can be found wearing a forest-green keyhole tunic, with a white long-sleeved shirt underneath. He also wears brown leather pants tucked into well made soft-leather boots. Brodin can afford more impressive garb, but wears these instead as a reminder of his loss. As a further result, Brodin will never be seen wearing anything that would signify him as a more than a common merchant (ex: Rings, jewelry, fancy clothes).

History – Brodin’s parents were both Caltharian. His father is a businessman himself, and his mother a cloth-dyer. Once married, his father helped his mother run the business, and together they were quite successful. As a child Brodin learned both his parent's trade, but it soon became clear he was more suited to his father's expertise. Throughout Brodin's growing up his father poured all of his knowledge of business into him.

Even from a young age he was enthusiastic and talented, always coming up with some new venture on which to try. By the age of 12, he had almost a full business arranged with friends, trading and moving goods for shopkeepers and distributors. As he grew, he became known as “the man who could get you anything.” He owned a warehouse where he stored goods of every kind, trading, selling, and buying them with people all over the city. People liked him, he did good business: giving fair prices and never giving a hassle, expecting the same courtesy in return. He liked all kinds of business, but found in trading that there was always a profit to be made. His trading business, Gerdrard Trading Company was quick to grow.

Once Brodin reached his twenties he was already quite wealthy. He started handing the reigns of business over to friends or business partners so that he could enjoy the fruits of his success. Living in a huge home, he indulged himself in fancy clothes and decorations. Brodin could hardly be seen with less than a dozen rings on his fingers. He became frivolous and reckless with his money. Brodin could be seen at all the big parties of nobility, trying to impress the people with his wealth. Living this new life, he lost contact with his friends, family, and even business partners. He distanced himself from it all, clinging only to what his wealth could give him.

Eventually his business partners grew fed up with Brodin, and together successfully started a clone business while ruining The Gerdrard Trading Company. Brodin couldn’t believe it as his entire life’s work was snatched away from him. Without the inflow of cash, he could no longer continue living the life of wealth.

After about a year he had sobered up to face the new situation he was confronted with. He had sold everything from his house, his possessions, to his clothes. This still left him with a sizeable fortune, but was sick with despair at what had been done to him, as well as how blind he had been. He had no interest in going back into business. He apologized to his friends and family. His family took him back, but his friends, bitter from the years he distanced himself, would not. And so Brodin Gerdrard was left to sulk in the shadows. Brodin realized how he had been blinded by his wealth, and made an oath to himself never to take that road again. From now on, he would try to live and enjoy the simple aspects of life.

Finding nothing but bad memories in Carmalad, Brodin decided to start traveling across the continent in order to find a new life. Exactly what he is looking for he doesn’t know himself, just that he wishes to find something to fill the emptiness created by the despair of his mistake.

Personality – Before he had let his wealth blind him, he had been a jolly, fun-loving, caring person whom everyone had gotton along with. Now Brodin drowns in a distant daze scorning himself for his life’s mistakes, but every so often his former self will bubble to the surface.

Most of the time, Brodin seems like he didn’t get enough sleep. Seeming tired and a little cranky, he is not the most enjoyable person to be around. However, if he forgets his troubles for a time, he opens up and is full of energy and enthusiasm, although, there is not telling how long it will last.

In his pre-rich days, Brodin was a proud person surrounded by an air of confidence, but now he is hardly either. He is ashamed that he let himself be blind with his confidence is shattered.

Strangely enough, although he would tell you that he is finished with business, it is often clear he is not: often making remarks about the prices, tactics, and relations of his trade. For the most part he denies to himself and others that he has any skill, but in truth there are very few others with more. This skill has also given him the ability to be both persuasive and disarming, but rarely is he in the mood to use his talents.

Because of his realization of his past corruption from wealth, Brodin Gerdrard has a grudge against those hold a similarity to his former station. Fancy merchants to rich nobility just don’t fly in Brodin’s books. He is ashamed of his reason for this, but he knows it’s because he is jealous that he fell, and they didn’t.

Brodin is a city-slicker; a city-folk; he knows next to nothing about the wild, and believes many of the tales about wild beasts and the dangers of the outside world. His element in which he works best is the city market. Surrounded by the sights and sounds of the city are where he is most comfortable.

Strengths –
When he forgets about his past for a few minutes he is a confident, enjoyable, persuasive person, but it is infrequent at best that this happens.

Brodin is a master businessman, who is often successful on any endeavor he proceeds to take. Nowadays this talent mostly goes to waste as he publicly denounces that he will ever enter business again, but the skills and knowledge are still there, and they still aid his judgment.

Weaknesses –
After his downfall, Brodin has lost most of his confidence. He is easily swayed or discouraged from action.

Being accustomed to city life, Brodin is uneasy anywhere but in cities. His inexperience and the influence of crazy tales can often render him jittery and scared.

Living in the lap of luxury has made Brodin quite out of shape. Having not done much exercise in years, he has grown somewhat of a small belly, and if forced to run will be panting in a few strides.

Weapons – None

Belongings – A horse named Jake. A brown cloak. Packs filled with change of clothes, foodstuffs, maps, paper and writing utensils.  

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