Fetzen

Allaria - Classical Fantasy Ch. 5 - Recruit the Shadowwald!

So just to avoid confusion why I've straightforwarldy posted in the char-section: I and Rilla have done the discussion stuff via PM :)

Allaria - Classical Fantasy Ch. 5 - Recruit the Shadowwald!

Gartoj

_{Nahelus @DeviantArt}

Race: Drow (male)

God: Lloth

Age: 29

Class:

• Major: Scout/Thief
• Minor: Basically the same, however with friendly-willed people around him he is willing to share his mathematical and analytical intellect for making plans. And he not only loves food, but also can prepare it relatively well.

Personality:
For the most part Gartoj is a calm man, pushing him to the point of an outrage by the mere usage of words can be considered a small achievement. However this property, benign as it is by itself, comes with the downside of him not being very empathic either. He's a bit like an iceberg: Just sitting there and listening to his surroundings, dropping a few dry and sometimes cold comments here and there. The moment he senses grave mental inferiority or personal desinterest for any reason he doesn't exhibit arrogance, but picks up speed and more or less gently nudges anyone aside who happens to be in his way out. On the other hand however there are areas in which he can break loose very seriously: He loves eating, especially in vast quantities. Also alcohol can be a thing, although he's no match for any real dwarf in that area. These are the moments during which he warms up considerably. He has no problem with stealing and a little bit of betrayal here and there, but killing is something Gartoj's really not fond of. It's an act not seldomly indicative of an insufficient amount of effort having been spent on thinking about alternatives. If he comes to the conclusion that there indeed is no other realistic way around it however his conscience doesn't have much of a problem with it, too.

Appearance:
At first glance Gartoj does not look like a drow. Those people are small, lithe and otherwise rather unconspicuous. He however, due to the condition of giantism, is a wall. Most people have to crane their necks in order to spot the pointy ends of his ears, situated at a height of a tad over eight feet. Moving this enormity, let alone allowing it to climb a rope, naturally comes with great quantities of muscle, even though not excessively visible. His belly region is quite soft due to a few bad habits of him -- he didn't have to bother about maintaining any coordination with the appearance of the vast majority of the drow population anyway. His skin is that of someone who doesn't like the sun and so is his hair, but the most remarkable thing about his rounded face are his eyes: They almost appear as if a fraction of his soul is looking through them.

Spirit animal: A raven.

Equipment:

• Clothing primarily made out of black dyed wool, thin leather and only very little amounts of metal for reinforcement in certain areas.
• A large cloak with some parts made out of fur that he can wrap around himself to a more or less complete degree.
• Two large, human-made swords. Why he has got them ? Well... they looked so nice, so he took them with him. Actual usage is another thing he didn't bother himself with at this point.
• Supplies for several days: Salt meat, bread, water. Even some wine.
• Additional waterskins for the special purpose of his magic.
• Some other, minor utilities like flintstone for igniting a fire or a small knife.

Skills:

• Major: Gartoj knows how to gain unauthorized access -- be it by picking the lock, launching a rope up to the roof and climb it or by recognizing an opportunity when it occurs. He can move around with very little noise and visibility, and be it by triggering confusion when the time is right. What he can't do however is all of this while maintaining anything near great speed. There'd just be too much creaking from the wooden floorpanels below...
• Minor: Sometimes it is necessary to temporarily disable a person who'd otherwise disturb your activity. If Gartoj can knock somebody out from behind, he can also try to strangle and kill that person. His problem is that so far he never felt fit to take such drastic measures, so while he'd definitely have the strength and equipment necessary to do that it is nothing but a theoretical scenario at this point.

Magic:
Gartoj, much like many of his kind, is a very proficient user of magic. The thing his soul is aligned to is ice and coldness in general, however hand in hand with his lack of any combat training goes the fact that he pratically never uses that with offensive intentions. While he does like covering his swords in a layer of ice for demonstration purposes, one probably won't see him actually trying to use them with that addition. It wouldn't make much sense since he wouldn't have the skill to wield them efficiently. What can happen though is that puddle of water in front of your feet suddenly being converted, causing you to slip in a very nasty manner so you can't pursue that drow in front of you any further. Or he opens that especially heavy door by the brute force of freezing water or the elegance of an artifical key carved out of the solidified element.

Strength:
If one could only use one word to describe it, a good candidate for this would be 'cunning'. Gartoj is very intelligent and quick to adapt new concepts. It has allowed him to find a -- though not exactly 'honest' -- profession that most people probably wouldn't imagine for him. Along with this goes his magic: Hardly used for open fighting and probably less suited for this than other kinds it still must be considered impressive in its own way. Also one most likely doesn't feel all too comfortable if he suddenly starts wrestling with one from behind.

Weakness:
While Gartoj's condition has not influenced those typical traits of a drow that aren't physical, it certainly has taken away some of the others. He's very, very far away from being lightweight and, unsurprisingly, also pretty much from being fast. Being extremely strong did not lead to him carrying anything more protective than his usual combination of black wool, fur and thin leather. Real, high-quality armor would be unaffordable for him. He has never subjected himself to anything like a 'professional' training in open combat anyway. So... once he's forced into one he does have a problem.

History:

Hider

Gartoj was born somewhere in the midst of the artificial jungle named Port Jinn. At least at the point of his birth there existed an entire little quarter primarily inhabited by drow. Not really welcomed except for in the Wizard's Academy maybe, life conditions weren't exactly favorable. Still Gartoj could enjoy a childhood devoid of any major disaster: his father Alviel worked at the docks administrating the flow of goods, his mother Tana attended the wizard's guild in an advisory role. Relatively soon in their child's life it became clear that something was wrong. Soon he stood nearly as tall as his parents, and only a few years later his dimensions exceeded those of even the strong workers at the docks. This posed problems not only from a pratical point of view -- he just was so different from his kind that levels of acceptance were low. It was a circumstance that made Tana's and Alviel's decision to send their son to the wizard's guild all the more easy. Better to separate him from the plebs and put him into an environment consisting of people deemed to be more educated and understanding than not.

There occurred a litte problem however. The problem's name was Gartoj and it had the demeanor of a rascal slowly drifting across the boundaries posed by law and order. While he was brilliant and capable of lashing out at his mates who failed to comprehend within hours what he could write down in minutes, he also severely lacked discipline in other areas. When it ultimately came out that his incredibly long fingers had virtually croached over the line and helped him commit what probably had not been his first theft the young man was expelled. Not only from the guild, but also basically from his own family which had to do something in order to avoid too much shame falling onto them. While they did not explicitly force him to leave, the signals were next to unmistakable and he left on his own account.

Port Jinn was soon behind his back and Gartoj wandered north. This is the point where this story starts. He's still growing and thristing for the things that will allow his magic to do the same.

Post color: #ff9900

Post sample: Link

Descent into chaos

Ferthyr had found the last few days to be quite an exhausting endeavour, so it probably wasn't all too surprising to see him having succumbed to a deep slumber that had already lasted several hours. Bardeck's hand, large as it was, didn't make him wake up immediately. It was only after several seconds of additional heat transfer between it and him that he finally opened his eyes. "What's up ?" he asked, a little bit unnerved and impatiently. Ferthyr, in his sleep, had not recognized his companion's sentence about the four men.

Those however didn't fail to make themselves noticeable again. The sound of hooves impacting onto the halfway soft ground that hadn't seen any rain for as long as two weeks came closer and a change in its frequency could be heard. The four riders were coming down the other side of the hill, approaching the hut in almost the most direct way possible. The elongated downward slope made them more cautious and slowed them down.

"Please tell me this isn't true!" was Ferthyr's comment as he battered his eyes to clear out any excessive fluid that had accumulated in these early hours and blurred his vision. Then the demonic looking man flipped around, turning himself onto his belly before pushing his body up to its full and not that impressive height. He flapped his wings to dust those off, too. "Any suggestions ?" Ferthyr didn't feel fully prepared for a fight, however if those men would come here such a thing most likely was inevitable.

Bardeck's companion thudded over towards one of the small windows the hut had been designed with, but he didn't dare to stick his head out. "Can't we hide somewhere in here or something ? Or maybe at least could you try to give me a leg-up to the roof as long as there's time ? Up there I'd be in less of an immediate and close-range trouble." Or maybe they both could surprise those men from above once they were down the hill ?

Allaria - Classical Fantasy Ch. 5 - Recruit the Shadowwald!

@Rilla Would it be legitimate to send you the CS via PM first ? So in case there's something requiring serious discussion it won't stack all up in the interest check ? (Haven't even started yet writing down by thoughts)

Allaria - Classical Fantasy Ch. 5 - Recruit the Shadowwald!

I might have gotten myself a hunch on a fledgeling character concept, a Dragonoid. I think he could be more the 'auxiliary' type, someone who doesn't directly throw himself into the frontline whenever such appears but could be more on the stealth and trickster side of things. Speed is not exactly an requirement for that I guess, but situational awareness is.

Allaria - Classical Fantasy Ch. 5 - Recruit the Shadowwald!

I'm still tempted to go for either a Human or a Drangonoid.

Allaria - Classical Fantasy Ch. 5 - Recruit the Shadowwald!

@Rilla Seeing this for the second time I can't help but indeed still feel interested. I need an idea for a character and work it out though.

Descent into chaos

Character name: Ferthyr

Gender: Male

Age: 22

Class: Battlemage

Weapons:

• A staff almost as long as he his high that he can use for channeling more powerful magic or physical bashing.
• His hands. The claws aren't exactly effective against metal armor, but pretty effective otherwise.
• Other, weaker magic he can use directly without his staff.

Physical Description:
Visual appearance: orig00.deviantart.net/b79c/f/2012/103…

Standing at a mere 5'7", Ferthyr really doesn't cut it in that respect. However he's packed in a rather massive layer of inhumanly dense muscle. Combined with his bones and the fact that he basically has two extra limbs on his back this makes him heavy as a rock, clearly reducing his speed and agility. He can deal a lot of physical damage in one move should any of his foes be unfortunate or incompetent enough to run into his grasp, but otherwise he primarily relies and has to rely on other means and his inherent ability to absorb a whole lot of punishment. Not that he'd be eager to test that out deliberately -- Ferthyr doesn't wear any kind of armor, but merely rather flamboyant, woolen clothing that's specifically tailored for him along with sturdy leather boots.

Mental description:
Ferthyr can easily be claimed to posess a bad temper. While he's calm most of the time, it's quite easy to upset him. He has drive and talent, but lacks discipline and, probably making things even more difficult, experience and guidance. It wouldn't be the first time for him to run into a rather desperate situation that would have been perfectly foreseeable for someone else. His kind is a very scarce one, so it probably isn't all too surprising that the usual response to his savage appearance is ignorance at best, openly carried out hostility at worst. Frustration has accumulated inside him and that steam has to go somewhere. Since his profession of magic is fire and ice one could take this quite literally. At least in that respect he has received a decent amount of education, but since then he has been forced to expand his knowledge on his own.

Descent into chaos

1x1 between @POOHEAD189 and @Fetzen

Descent into chaos

The Kerenyr lake was a calm place, its crystal clear waters stretching well beyond any man's vision. The watery body which had a narrow, but stable connection to the oceans via the Rawen river, was large enough to secretly follow the curvature of its celestial body. This was unknown to the most common men, the world and the continent in particular had other troubles than worrying about the true nature of its geometry and propagating this knowledge down the hierarchy of society. It was rumored that it had been a very flat joke that had triggered this conflict, but if that story indeed was true than it was more like the stupidity of its creator who had targeted it at Grom III. that was responsible. It was common sense that the entiry Grom dynasty was comprised of more or less intolerant persons who required very careful handling. However, whatever the trigger for the war between his kingdom and the neighbouring Meridin had been, the fertile ground on which its potential had been growing for long was much more simple: greed.

Marrsak was a highly militaristic society, its people under almost constant pressure to maintain a tremendously large apparatus consisting of army and a fleet of warships that had been idling around for years. While the kingdom was large, so was its population. Large numbers of solidiers meant that there was less time to seed and harvest crops or raise cattle while more food was needed to keep the troops from starving. With such a large fraction of the general population essentially doing nothing economically productive for years of their lifetime it was no surprise that the kingdom's internal welfare wasn't very advanced. The opposite of which could be said for Meridin: The land was not only what was deemed to be much more liberal, but moreover it took great benefit from the Ithjr volcano. While the fiery mountain devastated its immediate surroundings on an almost regular basis, any peasant further away could appreciate the light rain of ash fertilizing the soil. It was something Marrsak could barely have any hopes of participating in since the Hastue mountains were blocking the path of any high winds. Yet it was also said that Meridin aristocrats could be quite the arrogant bunch. As stable as the country was on the inside, together with Marrsak it formed a highly delicate arrangement. This arrangement now was fighting it out with only little regard towards any smaller neighbours. Those were faced with the difficult choice of either joining the cause of one side or remain completely isolated. Almost needless to say that the human king of Marrsak had decreed to invade the dwarven realm of Kol right away in fear of a second front stabbing into his back at a less pleasant time. By now the southernmost part of the continent was said to already have been conquered almost completely.

Two years earlier the Kerenyr lake had been populated by an abundance of small fishing boats and even larger ships carrying cargo the direct way from one coast to the other, but now with so many thousands of men already slain and rotting away on the battlefields it was not too unusual to experience the end of a clear, almost moonless night with no activity along miles of the shore at all. Bardek and Ferthyr had made camp in an abandoned hut near it -- one of the more comfortable nights the two had experienced over the last weeks since they had been caught in the conflict. Two people, one looking like a perfectly capable soldier who maybe had deserted and was on the run and the other looking like one of those wicked, unknown creatures that were said to live in the forests of Vahald , were an all too tempting target for any patrol to pick up and put into custody. Not that any of them was eager to endure that... Ferthyr was still asleep on the wooden floorboards, wings tightly wrapped around his torso as a replacement for a blanket. Bardek had been able to take what had remained of the bed, but right now it was his term to stand guard until his companion had regenerated from his shift and they could walk on.

The section of coast the hut was residing at was surrounded by hills. Their gentle slopes led down towards the lake. The grass was tall since it had been able to spread completely uncontrolled by anyone for months, making the early discovery of any approacher more difficult if one had opted for staying on the ground level around the hut. Armed men were approaching. Two were carrying a typical combination of sword and shield with the king's emblem on the latter. Another one apparently had experience using a bow and the fourth... one couldn't really tell. Unlike the others his armor did not appear to have any parts made out of metal and if it was leather it probably wasn't all too thick either. Maybe it was a person the other three were escorting, or it was a mage ? They were approaching on horses and they were doing so at a mediocre speed. So far the men didn't seem to have discovered anything that was worth their attention, but even if they decided to stay on the muddy road and not make any derivation towards the hut they'd be able to see what was happening there with ease. The small building soon was within their vision and one of the men, a rather large and broad-shouldered one with a stomach bulging underneath his armor, pointed at it...