taistelusopuli's wardrobe

[taistelusopuli]

Name: Gavpi Almmai
Age: 52
Race: Human
Gender: Male

Appearance: I am a bit chubby, not fat, but chubby and a bit round on my cheeks. People say that I have a rather big and a bit pointy nose as if it is a bad thing but I think it fits my face just perfect.

My clothes are not exquisite but they are enough for me. Good and sturdy leather boots that my good friend made for me. He's a shoemaker - the best in town. Rough forest green or dust brown pants and a white rural cotton shirt is what I usually have on. My ebony brown hair is a bit longer, not all too long, but I have it always in a ponytail to keep it out of my face.

Personality: Some might say that I am a somewhat jolly fellow - a natural salesman. Welcoming for the most and firm in my opinions, stubborn even. All in all I am just an all-around normal person who likes his work and loves his life.

I support my race, I am a "racist" but I don't persecute those who are not human. I am somewhat cold and expressionless towards the others. I like giving backhanded compliments and telling bad jokes - especially of the others.

Profession: Merchant (a pawnbroker)

[taistelusopuli]

Name: Muorra Veazir
Age: 42
Race: Human
Gender: Male

Profession: Carpenter

Appearance: Muorra is a massive man. Wide shoulders, taller than most men. He packs about 120 kg of muscular body mass into about 2 meters of height. Decades of carpentry, building and heavy woodwork have turned this man into a giant of a man.

Muorra's hair is blonde as wheat when it is ready for harvest and seems as thick as the spikes of a hedgehog. He keeps it short for the sake of convenience. It is easier to keep clean and stays out of the way when he works. His head is rather edgy, sharp and box shaped. His face is covered with a thick mustache, sideburns and sandpaper-like unshaved stubble around his muscular jaw. Between the bright green eyes, he has a big edgy nose.

The boulder of a head, is carried by a thick neck that has almost disappeared because of the shoulder muscles. Muorra finds it usually easier to enter houses a bit sideways because of the width of his shoulders. The arms that hang from the shoulders are thick, defined and years of carrying logs and boulders are clearly visible. Any woman would feel safe if Muorra were her husband. His hands are like shovels but seem accurate and agile, rough and scarred of bigger and smaller accidents with tools.

Muorra's torso is strong and athletic to say the least considering his remarkable size. The best part is that it is all natural muscle built with actual work that has a purpose. Every ounce has been worth a house, a hut, a fence, a roof, fire wood or a bridge - or something similar. Even with clothes on it is clear that fat per cent on Muorra's body is very low.

The legs carrying this massive man are like trees. The diameter of one his thighs is at least as much as the distance from a man's jaw tip to the back of his head. Many knights who have passed by have been jealous of his legs. The only down side is that great strength means slower speed. That is usually what makes the poor knights smile again and continue their journey with somewhat restored confidence.

Usually Muorra is wearing a natural color cotton shirt that has a bit deeper cut for head and neck which is closed with a loose lace. His wife makes him new ones every now and then but they look well used rather soon no matter how well she tries to wash them. The brown pants he uses are also of cotton but most of the time they are under protective "cowboy" pants and a leather apron.

Personality: Like his brother Ruovdi, Muorra is a happy, warm, and welcoming personality. He is loud and is not afraid to give you a nice manly slap between your shoulder blades when he thinks you said something ridiculously funny. While being one of the nicest men in Avveel, where he and his family live, he likes to spend an evening or two in a week at the local inn drinking with the other men in town. It doesn't happen often but when he gets drunk he is even happier but can snap very easily and start a fight. Usually with his brother, rarely if ever with someone else unless they attack him.

History: Muorra used to live in a small settlement half a day by wagon towards South-West from Giron. It was a settlement of three families and because of it's small size it was just called Halfaday. His parents got him, his older sister and younger brother rather late in age in regard to the culture of the times.

By the time Muorra was 17, he had been taugh in all of his carpenter-father's learning. He had worked hard in the forest that grew by the small settlement and had shown great skill as a carpenter. Regardless of the many attempts to make the small settlement grow in numbers no-one wanted to move to their little community. Everyone settled closer to Giron.

Muorra had knew Giron and was not fond of it's gritty atmosphere. He wanted to try his luck as a carpenter in Helsset and with his parent's blessing he left.

On the way he stayed a night at the inn in Avveel like all travellers do. There he met his wife to be, a young, slender, graceful waitress named ???. She was small by his side then and even smaller now but what she lacks in size she has in heart.

Muorra never made it to Helsset. The two fell in love, married and stayed in Avveel. Since then Muorra has lived in Avveel and been the most trusted carpenter in the village.

[taistelusopuli]

!Work in Progress!
Name: Ruovdi Veazir
Age: 39
Race: Human
Gender: Male

Profession: Blacksmith

Appearance: Like his older brother Muorra, Ruovdi is a massive man, except that he is even bigger than Muorra. Ruovdi is about a head taller, reaching the soaring height of about 2 meters and 20 cm. His chubbier 130kg body build is not equally athletic as his older brother's but that does not mean he doesn't wield remarkable strength. Under the slightly chubbier surface sleeps strength enough to take on all the men of the village.

Ruovdi's hair a bit shorter than shoulder length, blonde as wheat at harvest time and thick as the spikes of a hedgehog. He always keeps the slightly withdrawn hair on a loose ponytail. His head is a bit smoother than Muorra's but it still is edgy and box shaped. His face is covered with a rich full beard that is as blonde as his hair. Between the brownish green eyes, he has a big edgy nose.

When Ruovdi is working, striking the blazing iron with his hammer, you can see shadows and hints of the muscles that are under the thin fat blanket. Usually he works without a shirt, wearing saggy thick and protective pants that are tucked into his low-neck leather boots. He always has a thick leather apron on when we works. Every now and then you might find him working naked, just with the boots and apron on. He is kind of famous in the village for that.

Personality: Ruovdi is playful, is not ashamed and does not worry of what others think of him. He is himself without social limitations. He works hard and loves what he does. Every sword he makes, every tool he creates is precious to him and he treats them as unique masterpieces. As a kid he got into fights often with neighborhood boys and his older brother. He always won but he was never a douchebag about it. Now as an adult he doesn't get into fights that often but his temper is still a problem from time to time. Especially when he's at the pub relaxing on a few evenings a week.

History: Ruovdi used to live in a small settlement half a day by wagon towards South-West from Giron. It was a settlement of three families and because of it's small size it was just called Halfaday. His parents got him, his older sister and younger brother rather late in age in regard to the culture of the times.

Soon after his 16th birthday the Veazir family had to move closer to Giron

[taistelusopuli]

Starfall, dragon rider



Name: Nathair-Sgiathach "Nath or Nathair" Marcach
Age: 24
Gender: male

Equipment: Weapons - Two karambit-knives and kampilan | Other - First aid kit with bandages, ointments and herbs that provide and adrenaline rush or makes one temporarily numb to pain; Tool pouch

Appearance: Nathair is about 5 feet and 7 inches tall. His a bit over 180 pound body is fit and toned but not overly muscular. His skin has tanned slightly during his time in the South but it is still obvious that he comes from further North. He moves around lightly with extraordinary balance.

Most of the time Nathair wears somewhat loose dark colored clothes to make moving light and easy. His long sleeved shirt has a well sitting hood he uses sometimes. Strapped around his forearms he has protective leather bracelets. His pants he has tucked into his light high neck leather boots that he has also strapped.

As his battle gear Nathair uses a hardened leather vest with cauldrons that has some strategically placed in-sowed steel plates. Around his waist he has a leather belt with a first aid kit and his tool pouch. Behind his back, attached to his belt his has a horizontally placed sheath with his kampilan. Strapped on his thighs he has to karambits.

Personality: In his core Nathair is an open, welcoming, positive person who wants to do what is right. For a long time though, he has been rather gloomy - pretty much ever since he left from home. He is a kind of a dare devil and values nothing more than a real friend and a brother in arms. He does not get angry often, but when he does he usually just is silent and walks away to be alone for a moment. In action he is accurate and determined. He keeps pushing forward to victory. He does not give up and this regard it can be hard for him to see when it is good to let go.

Short Biography: Nathair comes from the North coast of Eastern Continents. There he had been a dragon rider and a protector of a village he was born in most of his life. He had a special relationship with his dragon at the time. He flew without chains and they were like brothers. Their unity and cooperation was unparalleled in the region.

On a winter night about a year ago the village was raided by pirates. Nathair was down with fever and not really in the condition to fight but he flew anyway. When the Sun rose in the horizon the pirates were gone, Nathair had fallen from the sky and his dragon, his friend and brother, had been killed. Nathair could not stay in the village. Once he had recovered, he had packed his bag and left. He kept walking South, away from the Northern coast, away from the loss.