Hidden 8 yrs ago 8 yrs ago Post by Virgil
Raw
GM
Avatar of Virgil

Virgil

Member Seen 3 yrs ago

Legacy of the Dark Earls Character: Midia Anndil of Deepmire

Name: Midia Anndil of Deepmire

Sex: Female

Age: Fourty-Six

Backstory(36,22,39): Having grown up in Deepmire--a relatively small City-State cast in the shadowy bogs north of Yvindel--Midia was born as the youngest daughter of two middle-class crafters; one an engineer, the other a toy-maker, the relatively content couple sired four offspring before sadly, Midia's mother--the toymaker--passed away in attempted childbirth for a fifth. The child went with her into the nothing. Midia's father would die to murder at the hands of Yvindel soldiers during a surprise siege, knocking him off a high-wall and far, far down onto the ground below; his body could not be found--or more aptly, 'recognized'--after the assault. Following the fall of the Momyr Ruling House, the throne went to the more favorable of Yvindel's secret allies, the Kyranda House, which quickly set about repairing damages and establishing the foundations for a--presumably--long line of reigning nobles. Sadly, this was not to be; identity struggles between members of the old-guard and established rulers of the new proved fatal on both sides, eventually culminating in the successful revolt--and subsequent slaughter--against the Kyranda House. By this time, Midia had long since been stripped of her previous innocence and was now a well-doing member of the newly crowned Baseeth House's army, who took great care to not follow in the footsteps of their predecessors. Such care, in fact, that Midia, her elder sister, and several other hand-picked fanatics were sent deep, deep into the most dangerous parts of the bog; The living-grounds of supposed evil-dwellers, where they were to deliver terms: "Teach us your ways, and we'll allow you to live as you have."

Out of the initial fourty-eight, six returned home, carrying only partial knowledge of their mentor's teachings -- the rest had perished either of training or from the sickness that struck the relatively isolated village, eradicating the majick-users that once inhabited that domain. Her service is still to house Baseeth, who--out of their well-place precautions--still rule contentedly among that dank rotting hell north of Yvindel, though with obvious diplomatic arguments with their southern neighbors.


Description: The younger Anndil stands around 137 centimeters tall, with a relatively small frame to hold her. She sports a mop of sloppily cut, medium-length black hair on her head, and is of a pale Caucasian hue. She suffers from an abnormality of the head, and is at times seen switching from long bouts of sporadic happiness, to longer bouts of unhappiness. This too occasionally tampers with her memory, causing dreams, her past, and reality to mingle -- in particular cases, she has even been seen going into an almost trance-like state, where the boundaries of time's three states seem irrelevant to her.

Knowledge/Skills/Equipment: When not dressed in her standard battle-fit padded light-armor, Midia carries a large satchel holding the tools of her trade, as well as various other possessions. She is well-trained in identifying a variety of plants of various effects and statuses, though only related to areas around Deepmire or Yvindel. Her knowledge in manipulating certain beasts is limited to a fault, though she can mostly make up for it with a decent knowledge of the martial arts -- especially in the case of spears and staffs.
Hidden 8 yrs ago 8 yrs ago Post by Virgil
Raw
GM
Avatar of Virgil

Virgil

Member Seen 3 yrs ago

Legacy of the Dark Earls Character: Feraen Dulcimer

Name: Feraen Dulcimer

Sex: Male

Age: Twenty-Four

Backstory(37,18,4): For the vast majority of his--relatively short--life, Feraen has wandered back and forth over the grey line, often venturing for longer periods into "The darkness" than he'd stay in "The light". As a child, a peculiar madness plagued his merchant family -- specifically, the minds of his father and elder brother. One was--as many stated--"...warped, confused, as though it belonged to an abused dog rather than that of a 'man'."; meanwhile, the other had been regarded just the opposite. A kind, innocent soul -- harmless, but forgiving for any he might accidentally incur. The mentalities of the father and the son clashed and eventually culminated in the 'accidental' death of Feraen's elder brother, who was said to have fallen and cracked open his crown on the stone-work roads.

Feraen loathed the man of suspect that tromped about their home, acting as though his first-born had never been, speaking only of "My only son" when addressed on the subject. The broken state of the first gradually wore on the second--all the more helped along by the support of the mother going towards her husband's innocence--until he too snapped, soon becoming cast out of the family--and subsequently cut from all ties with the guild--for his 'unsuccessful' attempt in suffocating the twisted brute in his sleep. Such was the severity of these consequences that--as a matter of precaution--the boy, at the meager age of thirteen, was exiled not just from home and career, but indeed from the very DISTRICT he lived in; and within hours of his disinheritance, the youth was on his own in the outer-most wall, home to peasants and serfs, slaves, beggars and the remainder of those seen 'unfit' to live within the gentle caress of civilized society.

Four years of working honestly and earning his keep granted the boy a place to stay in the caring home of one such serf-family; who--though poor--worked well and provided plentifully for those kept in their trust. It was during this period that Feraen met Tara, and grew to cherish and admire this wife of the home...and perhaps a bit too much, at that. He never stated such compassions openly, but was eventually undone by his burning desires when--on the night of a particularly good harvest--his hand reached a bit 'too far' towards the woman, who rebuked his drunken passes...which only enraged his loose state of mind. Though the rest was all a garish nightmare during the morning after, he did remember enough to understand how it 'came to be' that said hand went missing over the course of a painfully terrifying night -- replaced instead by a cauterized stump cleansed and wrapped in bandages; and also how--yet again--he found himself outlawed amongst those who'd once been so kind to him. Since then, seven years have crawled past, torturing the agonized beggar-drunk, who seeks the bottle as often as possible in order to escape his pains -- and the rapidly deteriorating inner workings of his mind.


Description: Feraen stands at a height of 173 centimeters, with a lean, ragged and tanned frame clothed by torn and faded sack-cloth pants and shirt; both items having clearly been adjusted over the years to fit his growth. His face is covered by a six-o-clock shadow, and his lengthy hair is filled with all manner of terrain mixed a midst dark sepia distinction. He speaks in a rather broken manner, more than likely a byproduct of the many teeth lost to malnourishment and an excessive lack of self-care; and he is also quite incapable of much physical labor as an added result of such a poor diet -- that being of scraps and whatever else he could steal without getting caught and beaten. Ironically, he can now be described in much the same way as his father -- albeit without the family fortune to back any sort of proper care. And--though curious--he is also incredibly quick to anger, seeing it as safer to keep himself distanced from passerby-folk.

Knowledge/Skills/Equipment: Also ironically given his state, the young man has become quite adept at sneaking around and--if/when caught--subsequently bolting away from the objects of his desire...namely food and drink. Another given contradiction to his appearance is that he is quite observant--despite his usual, sickly looks--and can recognize danger far faster than others, though this can also lead to a certain paranoia against trusting others. Other than that, he knows and owns little to nothing, concentrating instead on merely 'surviving', despite nature seemingly wanting to be rid of him.
Hidden 8 yrs ago 7 yrs ago Post by Virgil
Raw
GM
Avatar of Virgil

Virgil

Member Seen 3 yrs ago

Legacy of the Dark Earls Character: Iraasnej Ithiler of Yvindel

Name: Iraasnej Ithiler

Sex: Male

Age: Fifty-Two

Backstory(9,5,37): An elderly fellow lacking in any ability to feel 'fear', Ithiler has grown to see--as far as he knows and cares--all that the world has to offer. His family upbringing in part attributed to a great desire to learn and converse, and his choice of words and actions earned the academic a great deal of respect all throughout his life. It is for this reason that the Yvindel scholar chose to become a member amongst the well admired thinkers of his city -- those of the Archaeus Literarium. Through the years that followed, Iraasnej always kept up a great moral discipline about his person, studying and conversing constantly -- that he might achieve his intellectual ambitions. However, this choice also came with a great consequence, as--unlike his elder and younger brother--he never came about to having the time or charm to successfully find a love that matched his level of mental accomplishment. The only secondary who came even remotely close happened to be that of Queen Esal herself. Indeed, while her husband busied himself with the various issues of the crown, she took great leisure in exploring the many wonders of the outside world -- notably through the hundreds of tomes and scrolls kept within the Literarium. In time, the elder scholar and the younger queen formed a bond akin to that of family, and--when he had time for it--Iraasnej took pleasure in acting as a tutor and guide for the younger woman.

Sadly, such is the nature of life that joyous times such as these cannot last, and it was with solemn lament that--upon the birth of her only daughter--the now Headmaster of the Literarium recieved news of the queen's passing in childbirth; and along with this, her final will that the girl--who's name was Jalani--be put under his private instruction.

Fourteen years and to this day, he has kept true to her will, raising the budding youth in all manner of studies and philosophy, that she might one day be an even greater ruler than either her mother or father.


Description: Standing at 170 centimeters in height, Iraasnej carries his lean frame well beneath the scholar's multi-layered, white&green robes. His skin comes off as of a yellowed hue when he stays indoors too long, but it is naturally a light tan. Topping his crown is a well-kept head of long, dark black hair, albeit trimmed along the temples with specks of grey here and there. His facial structures are very pronounced, forming a very striking expression upon first glance of his wrinkled, clean-shaven visage; the whole of which ultimately end up complimenting the passive demeanor of his brown eyes. He is quite educated, and chooses to be as precise as possible with his words -- that there might be little to no miscommunication between himself and the audience. He is also quite interested in learning, and will be more than happy to pass along what he has subsequently picked up to any and all who might ask.

Knowledge/Skills/Equipment: As stated previously, the elder Ithiler has built his reputation around his excelling performance in the academic world. His mind contains almost as much knowledge as the many hundreds of tomes stored within the Literarium's vast archives; and he has acquired the habit of memorizing and recalling this information in great frequency, that he might keep it 'Fresh' within the interiors of his mind. As for the martial arts, Iraasnej has *read* through a few of the manuals...but due to the time constraints of his work--and a general lack of enthusiasm for the art--this is about as far as he's ever kept up with the subject. Instead, he prefers the occasional 'Light' dabbling in the medical fields -- for truly, the able doctor is far often more capable of disabling than the average soldier or ruffian. Again, however, very little of the former has ever been put into any sort of practical application, and the elder often prefers the simple --yet accomplished-- title of "Scholar". He is almost always seen in scholarly robes, and accompanied by his trusty walking staff -- the latter of which has only *Rarely* seen the odd back-side of the disorderly youth; indeed, he is seen *so often* in these robes--with the minor exception of his night-gown and the robes given out around the Public Baths--that a few have ventured to jest the "--Scholar's robes might as well be his skin, its hood his hair, and all else about him a mere deception of the appearance."
↑ Top
© 2007-2024
BBCode Cheatsheet