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Ash of the Whitelands
"No gloriae suae in bello"
Full name: Ash, or Ash of the Whitelands, denoting his humble origin.
Titles: The Sellsword Scholar, and the less flattering titles of Ser Whoreson and Knightslayer
Social rank: Whoreson peasant.
Job or societal position: Black Knight Sellsword. Part time teacher and folk entertainer.
Gender: Male
Appearance: He's an average sized, well built man, with dark scruffy hair and a clean-shaved face. He has gray eyes that give him a piercing, vivid stare. Cuts and chinks can be seen throughout his body, a couple of them on his face. He usually wears worn out and simple but serviceable clothes, and a black, equally worn but still useable armor (it's painted black to prevent rust) when in combat. He walks with carefully measured steps and he has a deep voice.
Personality: Despite his ignoble origin, Ash is a polite and well mannered man. He always answers a greeting, and answers with the utmost respect to whomever talks to him, be it noble or gentile. He's also rather patient and slow to anger, with an almost nigh unflappable stoicism. Yet at the same time, one could feel that sometimes he's not here, and just stares at the horizon rather than at people, reliving who knows what demons of the past. Lowborn, whores and orphans do manage to bring some more reaction in the man, and he's known to have a chipper, quick-wit and enthusiastic easygoing attitude with them. He is also more than willing to share his knowledge and experience to whomever lends him an ear, and he's partial to honest plights. Meeting him on the battlefield or as enemy is another matter. Bereft of any kind of remorse or honor, Ash strives to survive and win to see another morning, and he has very few qualms on using underhanded methods.
History: Ash was simply a byproduct of a camp follower and an unnamed man-at-arms in the Whitelands. He could have ended like many street rats and pickpockets, if it had not been for the hardest and most clever decision his mother had: To give him to a wandering troupe of entertainers after some convincing. Even from his early age, Ash revealed himself as a bright lad and a fast learner, and some of the troupe felt that they had to polish the formidable intellect the boy had, out of goodwill. They taught him manners, literature and writing, in the hopes he could become one of the narrators of the troupe. They weren't so successful at teaching him to sing and dance, as the poor lad was unfortunately tonedeaf, but he managed to pick other skills to compensate, like knowledge of healing and poisons from the troupe's wise woman, and some minor sleight-of-hand tricks to draw and interest peasants.
By the time he was a young man, he had already made a name for himself among the troupe, becoming one of the storytellers while others did the dancing and singing, as well as one of the faces for negotiation, given his politeness and wit. Unfortunately, he had also hit the foolish age where everyone wanted to be a knight and save and kingdom, and in a regrettable hotheaded decision, parted with the troupe to become a sellsword. Of course, his actual fighting ability was made much fun of by the time he tried to join, but the wizened leader of the sellsword group decided to keep him around, if only because he had prized skills like healing, poisons and writing. Knowing fully well his status as ''favored kid'' of the leader, he trained diligently and tried his best to not make mistakes. He also swallowed his qualms about doing less than regrettable brigand jobs, in an effort to become more like the mercenaries that he had surrounded himself with. However, it was all for naught, because even as he managed to garner himself a name among the mercenaries and become one of the de-facto liutenants of the band, he kept meeting scorn and cold shoulders. When a quarrel about payment shares broke between him and other lieutenants, Ash realized that no matter what he did, he would always be treated as an outsider by everyone. Skilled enough to beat knights in single combat, yet lowborn. Capable of philosophical debates yet as base as the son of a prostitute.
Heartbroken and bitter by the many horrors he chose to endure pursuing an empty ideal, he returned to his homeland, only to find the shadow of the war haunting the lands, and a rather cold and crude gravestone where his mother once stood. Still, he decided to stay, and perhaps make himself a place little by little, starting by subverting the suspiciousness of people around him by entertaining folks and doing odd errands.
Skills: Ash is an incredibly mentally gifted individual. He has a good grasp of a variety of subjects like tactics, economics, literature, manners and even odd things like castle building and sieges. He is also a good sellsword, able to use competently swords, shields, daggers, and bows, and skilled on horseback and with lances. He can also do some minor prestidigitation tricks like vanishing coins and minor escapism. He is a decent storyteller. He is rather skilled in the arts of healing as well as poisons, though people only know him for the poison part and his skill at arms.
Dreams and fears:He dreams of finding a good place to settle in, without even having to resort to the sword again. Sadly, in these times, his sword is all what he has to earn himself a living, as he's considered a foul person even by fellow peasants. He fears dying alone and forgotten, and losing himself to the madness of war and forgetting how to be kind.
Favored equipment: He's usually seen in comfortable, humble clothes with a dagger by his hip and a money purse when he's not in combat. When he's fully suited, he dons a black-painted armor, with a black shield and a longsword. Or alternatively a bow. He keeps the armor, arrows and weapons on his horse's saddlebags when he's not fighting. He also owns three books. One about healing and poisons, the other about war tactics, and the third one is his personal diary. He also keeps some oil and a whetstone to polish and keep his gear, as well as a flint.
Extra: He owns a warhorse named Spot he won in a bet. It's quite a temperamental stallion and has a rather worrying fondess for wine. All his worldly possessions can fit on his horse's saddlebags.
Ash of the Whitelands
"No gloriae suae in bello"
Full name: Ash, or Ash of the Whitelands, denoting his humble origin.
Titles: The Sellsword Scholar, and the less flattering titles of Ser Whoreson and Knightslayer
Social rank: Whoreson peasant.
Job or societal position: Black Knight Sellsword. Part time teacher and folk entertainer.
Gender: Male
Appearance: He's an average sized, well built man, with dark scruffy hair and a clean-shaved face. He has gray eyes that give him a piercing, vivid stare. Cuts and chinks can be seen throughout his body, a couple of them on his face. He usually wears worn out and simple but serviceable clothes, and a black, equally worn but still useable armor (it's painted black to prevent rust) when in combat. He walks with carefully measured steps and he has a deep voice.
Personality: Despite his ignoble origin, Ash is a polite and well mannered man. He always answers a greeting, and answers with the utmost respect to whomever talks to him, be it noble or gentile. He's also rather patient and slow to anger, with an almost nigh unflappable stoicism. Yet at the same time, one could feel that sometimes he's not here, and just stares at the horizon rather than at people, reliving who knows what demons of the past. Lowborn, whores and orphans do manage to bring some more reaction in the man, and he's known to have a chipper, quick-wit and enthusiastic easygoing attitude with them. He is also more than willing to share his knowledge and experience to whomever lends him an ear, and he's partial to honest plights. Meeting him on the battlefield or as enemy is another matter. Bereft of any kind of remorse or honor, Ash strives to survive and win to see another morning, and he has very few qualms on using underhanded methods.
History: Ash was simply a byproduct of a camp follower and an unnamed man-at-arms in the Whitelands. He could have ended like many street rats and pickpockets, if it had not been for the hardest and most clever decision his mother had: To give him to a wandering troupe of entertainers after some convincing. Even from his early age, Ash revealed himself as a bright lad and a fast learner, and some of the troupe felt that they had to polish the formidable intellect the boy had, out of goodwill. They taught him manners, literature and writing, in the hopes he could become one of the narrators of the troupe. They weren't so successful at teaching him to sing and dance, as the poor lad was unfortunately tonedeaf, but he managed to pick other skills to compensate, like knowledge of healing and poisons from the troupe's wise woman, and some minor sleight-of-hand tricks to draw and interest peasants.
By the time he was a young man, he had already made a name for himself among the troupe, becoming one of the storytellers while others did the dancing and singing, as well as one of the faces for negotiation, given his politeness and wit. Unfortunately, he had also hit the foolish age where everyone wanted to be a knight and save and kingdom, and in a regrettable hotheaded decision, parted with the troupe to become a sellsword. Of course, his actual fighting ability was made much fun of by the time he tried to join, but the wizened leader of the sellsword group decided to keep him around, if only because he had prized skills like healing, poisons and writing. Knowing fully well his status as ''favored kid'' of the leader, he trained diligently and tried his best to not make mistakes. He also swallowed his qualms about doing less than regrettable brigand jobs, in an effort to become more like the mercenaries that he had surrounded himself with. However, it was all for naught, because even as he managed to garner himself a name among the mercenaries and become one of the de-facto liutenants of the band, he kept meeting scorn and cold shoulders. When a quarrel about payment shares broke between him and other lieutenants, Ash realized that no matter what he did, he would always be treated as an outsider by everyone. Skilled enough to beat knights in single combat, yet lowborn. Capable of philosophical debates yet as base as the son of a prostitute.
Heartbroken and bitter by the many horrors he chose to endure pursuing an empty ideal, he returned to his homeland, only to find the shadow of the war haunting the lands, and a rather cold and crude gravestone where his mother once stood. Still, he decided to stay, and perhaps make himself a place little by little, starting by subverting the suspiciousness of people around him by entertaining folks and doing odd errands.
Skills: Ash is an incredibly mentally gifted individual. He has a good grasp of a variety of subjects like tactics, economics, literature, manners and even odd things like castle building and sieges. He is also a good sellsword, able to use competently swords, shields, daggers, and bows, and skilled on horseback and with lances. He can also do some minor prestidigitation tricks like vanishing coins and minor escapism. He is a decent storyteller. He is rather skilled in the arts of healing as well as poisons, though people only know him for the poison part and his skill at arms.
Dreams and fears:He dreams of finding a good place to settle in, without even having to resort to the sword again. Sadly, in these times, his sword is all what he has to earn himself a living, as he's considered a foul person even by fellow peasants. He fears dying alone and forgotten, and losing himself to the madness of war and forgetting how to be kind.
Favored equipment: He's usually seen in comfortable, humble clothes with a dagger by his hip and a money purse when he's not in combat. When he's fully suited, he dons a black-painted armor, with a black shield and a longsword. Or alternatively a bow. He keeps the armor, arrows and weapons on his horse's saddlebags when he's not fighting. He also owns three books. One about healing and poisons, the other about war tactics, and the third one is his personal diary. He also keeps some oil and a whetstone to polish and keep his gear, as well as a flint.
Extra: He owns a warhorse named Spot he won in a bet. It's quite a temperamental stallion and has a rather worrying fondess for wine. All his worldly possessions can fit on his horse's saddlebags.
