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6 yrs ago
Current Ever had that moment were you've just lost a battle of wills with your dog and think to yourself, "maybe I should be the one sleeping on the floor"? I have. It's oddly liberating.
3 likes
7 yrs ago
My Lit Lecturer used Matt Fraction's Hawkeye run to display the effect of narratology in class today. It's the first thing he's spoken about all term that I've actually read.
8 yrs ago
How good is the Punisher in Netflix's Daredevil series? "Just some guys who are about to walk into a diner for the last time." That line is so manly it could make a toddler sprout a beard.
8 yrs ago
The Justice League trailer is giving me mixed emotions. On the one hand, I desperately want to get hyped. On the other, Snyder and co have burnt me too many times in the past. I'm a conflicted mess.
2 likes
8 yrs ago
What? The Lethal Weapon tv show isn't utter garbage at all, instead being an enjoyable watch. What the fuck is the world coming to?
1 like

Bio

For all you know I'm handsome as hell. Let's keep it that way.

Most Recent Posts

@Jeremor Party chat zone sounds good to me, and the three post spacer seems suitable considering the size of our party.

Also, when Gentle smells Nathaniel would he sensed anything weird or unique?
Does raise the question of going forward whether we should wait for everyone to post before reposting ourselves or not. I know we decided not to have a posting order, but do we want to wait on everyone getting a chance to react to every situation or action, or would we be better served enforcing a 'minimum post gap before reposting'?
Not saying I'm Aragorn, buuut...


I thought Stur had a bit of a Boromir feel too him honestly. A strong man, best of his people, worn down by a relentless enemy, willing to make incredible sacrifices and hard choices for the good of his country and family. A decidedly human hero, in both his strengths and flaws.

Edit. Then again, we're all only one post in, so might be a tad early to make those kind of comparisons.
Now we just have to decide which of our characters matches best to the members of the fellowship. Gentle is clearly Legolas as they are both the oldest and the prettiest.
Can't wait for the other party members to introduce themselves and get this misadventure started.
What will that be, nine members? Probably a good idea, anymore and we'll be less of an party and more of a small invading force.
Also, please let me know you guy's thoughts on having a posting order or anything like that. If it makes it easier on you guys, I'm all for it, but if not it's all the same to me.


I'm in the same boat as you. As long as everyone is giving a chance to post, and the pace doesn't get too frantic, I'm happy without a posting order. In my experience they end up stifling an RP.
Gentle



The Minotaur stood in the shadows at the back, trying to make himself as inconspicuous as possible – how successful he was in that goal was up for debate, what with being a pretty damned conspicuous nine-foot tall horned monster and all – and tried not to let the crowd of would be heroes nervous energy get his blood pumping too fast. It was a pretty well known fact that getting a Bull ‘Taur like him too excited was like to end in tears, and though he’d gotten a better handle on things of that nature in his old age it still didn’t do to tempt the Gods. And seeing as he’d somehow managed to get the attention of not one, but two divine beings, he’d decided it would pay to be careful.

Careful. Lot of that going around apparently. A goodly more than half the room had upp’d tails and left at the kings words, no doubt remembering that discretion was the better part of valour. Cowards, some would call them, but not Gentle. No, he was too long in the tooth to be throwing words like that around when people were showing good sense. Hell’s, he just wished he could join them. Instead he watched the young, the able, the smart and the strong line out of the hall, and pondered just how desperate the king and the God’s had to be for them to have to rely on an old, demonstrably-past-his-best-that-wasn’t-even-all-that-good-anyway bull like him. Though he supposed that Torvelt was a desperate country, so he guessed they were in the place for it.

His attention slowly shifted to those wannabe-worthies who hadn’t been dissuaded by the kings words.

First was the serious looking half-elf, she who moved like a chimera. The way those swords sat upon her hip; easy, free, and always within an easy pull, he was willing to bet she was almost as deadly as a chimera too.

After her was a second half-elf, uncommon to see two at once in Koprust. She didn’t move quite so assuredly as the first, though if she spoke true and she did make her living out of the forests of Torvelt then she would be more capable than most. Dangerous things lived in those woods, would take one cold-eyed killer to survive them.

Following them was – rarest of rarities – a Dragonborn. He had an incongruously gentle voice, and a calming demeanor about him that seemed at odds with his reptilian visage, but if the stories of his race where to be believed then it would be a damned fool that underestimated him.

Then there was the dwarf. Didn’t seem like much to Gentle, but then to him most dwarves were barely knee high. He supposed Solveig looked fit enough, for a midget. Smelled like a condemned brewery though, which wasn’t ideal.

Behind the dwarf there was a human. He looked worn. Battle-worn, age-worn, world-worn, just worn. For a moment Gentle had the uncomfortable thought that if he’d been born human he’d probably look something like the man in front of him. Besides that he didn’t think much of Stur. Humans brought little to the world in his opinion. They weren’t graceful as the elves, sturdy as the dwarves, or strong like the ’Taurs. More like a hells-spawned plague than...

The old Bull felt his blood getting hot and took a breath to calm himself. Probably not all that surprising that even after all this time living among the frails he could still fall back into his old prejudices so easily. Shows that some shackles are harder to break than others.

Stur was stepping back now, sending a wary glance Antraro’s way – showing good sense or displaying common human racism, Gentle couldn’t decide. Regardless he sensed that the time was now upon him to introduce himself. He took a few lumbering steps forward towards the throne, though didn’t bother with the bowing. He’d stopped bending the knee to frails in crowns a long time ago.

Besides, he wasn't as limber as he used to be. If he got down he wasn't all that sure he could get back up again.

“Call me Gentle,” his voice came out like a distant rumble, thunder rolling across far off mountains, “The God’s have tasked me with finding your boy, so . . . I’m doing it, I guess.” He almost shrugged, slightly embarrassed that he couldn’t have found fancier words. Everyone else had fancy words, even the bloody dwarf. If Apollokeos and Minoas really were watching him he was guessing they were hucking it up right now.

Damage done, he was keen to get out. He cast around and spotted the two half-elves making their way out the door. “Reckon I’ll follow them.” That rumble of a voice sounded a touch less impressive now as he made after the women, more sheepish than bull.

G E N T L E

The humans called us monstrous, so monsters are what we became.


B A S I C S


NAME
Gentle

AGE
128

RACE
Minotaur

CLASS
Cleric/Barbarian

OCCUPATION
Lay Brother of the Temple of Apollokeos

ORIGINATES FROM
Achea

IF OUTSIDE TORVELT
The Human Republic of Achea is a loose collection of city states far to the South-West of Torvelt. The climate is hot, and the terrain mountainous, though the people have risen to the challenge of taming such an arid land, becoming famed for their exports of grapes, olives, gold, and marble. The Achean’s stand proud of their achievements, proclaiming that their society is the greatest in all the wide world, pointing to their democracies, philosphies, music and art as evidence of this, though it is whispered in courts around the lands that the prosperous country wouldn’t be half as impressive as it is if it wasn’t for the broken backs of the monstrous slaves it has all been built upon.


P H Y S I C A L A T T R I B U T E S


PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION
Large even by Minotaur standards, Gentle stands taller than eight-and-a-half feet, over nine if you included the tips of his gently curving horns, which you probably should when measuring a Minotaur. He’s broad too, as the ‘proverbial’ bull in fact, and hasn’t he heard that one more than once since coming to Torvelt. His once bulging muscles and steely thews are running to fat a little in his old age and relative indolence, but he still possesses the kind of physique that would give even the most confidant pitfighter cause to pause.

To his intense consternation his lustrous black pelt is being invaded by unsightly streaks of iron-grey. Swirling blue-grey patterns are tattoeed across his arms, shoulders, chest and back, intricate patterns of some hidden meaning which Gentle hasn’t shared with anyone since arriving in Torvelt. Age has also stolen some of his vim, and the spring from his step, but his hands are still strong and his horns still sharp. It will do, he tells himself.

STRENGTHS

  • Physically powerful
  • Experienced combatant
  • Access to divine magic
  • Rough wisdom

WEAKNESSES

  • Large and heavy
  • Moderate rheumatoid arthritis
  • Fading eyesight
  • Rage


P S Y C H O L O G I C A L A T T R I B U T E S


PERSONALITY
Pragmatic – Melancholy – Ponderous – Wistful – Studious – Mercurially violent (though working very hard not to be)

SEXUALITY
Pansexual

FEARS
  • Heights
  • Deep, fast moving waters
  • Large canines
  • Small, enclosed spaces
  • The ghosts of his past


GOALS
To find the prince, stop the Fog, and achieve personal salvation.


S K I L L S



Labyrinth Recall
He can perfectly recall any path that he has taken.

Great Weapon Fighting
Perhaps unsurprisingly giant bull-men are pretty good at swinging large, sharp pieces of metal with the intent of hurting people. Who knew?

Sense of Smell and Hearing
A Minotaur’s sense of smell and hearing is several times more advanced than that of a humans. Gentle has found himself relying on his more and more since his eyes started failing him.


G E A R


ITEMS ON PERSON

  • Heavy iron bracers
  • Travellers pack (sleeping roll, tinder box, dried rations etc)
  • Icon of Apollokeos (Small golden pendant featuring a rising sun over a river)

WEAPONS

  • Large wooden post (Functions as a quarterstaff/club)
  • Great Sword


H I S T O R Y


The Minotaur known only as Gentle first walked into Torvelt about fifteen years ago, with nothing more than the clothes on his frame and a rolled bundle of leather upon his back. From there he wound a slow and gradual path towards Koprust, eventually arriving in the capital city and taking on a slew of odd jobs, seemingly happy with working hard manual labour for minimal pay, simple food and somewhere dry to sleep. On those rare occasions that he was approached by those not intimated by his monstrous visage he was found to be polite, but distant, seemingly happy to nurse his ghosts in solitude.

He eventually found himself working for the Abbott of the Temple of Clean Waters, a holy place that venerated Apollokeos , Lady of Dawn and New Beginnings. Gentle quickly fell into life at the Temple, becoming a lay brother and settling in for what he imagined would be a life of quiet contemplation and honest labour.

The God’s, it seemed, had other plans.

He’d had nightmares for as long as he could remember, horrible and twisted visions from his past that tourtured him nightly without reprieve. However one night, when the horror had reached its zenith, he found salvation. The Lady Apollokeos visited him, in all her golden splendour, and explained that his redemption was in reach. She tasked him with joining the quest to find the Prince, and that through that labour he might just find the peace he so desperately desired.

When Gentle awoke he thought the dream no more than that, the fantasy of a tired mind, but later that day he met a man who introduced himself as Minoas, the fabled absent father of the Minotaur race. Minoas reinforced Apollokeos commands, urging Gentle to join the quest before disappearing.

One visit from a God he could ignore. Two would have been pushing it. Collecting his belongings and making his farewells, he made his way towards thee castle.
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