I haven’t written a CS in an age and a half and here’s Wraith making it free form just to spite my brain. I wanna make it so much fancier than I know it’s gonna be. *flails forlornly*
Finally thought of a name though. Got it halfway written with barely a mention of it, haha…
I thought by not providing a CS format I was making the game more accessible since I've had complaints in the past about the formatting of my sheets and how they're too fancy and sacrifice writing in favour of flavour!
A friend of mine has a family tradition of passing down Cast Iron Skillets as bridal presents at weddings. The inclination is clear and obvious, stemming from a grandmother's life story; Whack the husband with it solidly if they misbehave.
I giggle every time I remember that I made Juniper wield one as a swiss-squirrel-tool in my backstory because of this.
But are they brand new or have they been surfaced? Because a properly surfaced cast iron skillet is near priceless man, the flavour! The flavour!
Here's what I wrote up today. I feel rather certain it's whole and complete, but if anything else/any editing is requested I will certainly comply!
A Hedgehog, bulky for his species, gone soft around the edges from a life of wines and ales oversampled and overindulged. Do not mistake his softness for lack of strength nor his greying sheen for feebleness of mind (though, admittedly, a certain eccentricity does grip him); Ellis is every bit as able-bodied as the next beast. His age has slowed, but not stopped.
His role in the Abbey is that of the Cellarkeeper, formally, though in seasons past he has taken it upon himself the mantle of an Adventurer, Minstrel, Chef, Husband, and Parent. His experiences and adventures take the form of poem and song- many of the younger generations at the Abbey presuming that they are mere whimsy rather than recollections of truth.
He is gripped by a powerful and total sense of duty and obligation, the Abbey Charter as well as a personal sense of morality guiding him to do right by anybeast and everybeast whenever possible. He is slow to anger, quick of wit, and cool of judgement- but wanton destruction, waste, and insolence are things that others ought to be educated on! He is motivated heavily by this sense of duty; he will certainly take it upon his shoulders to accomplish a task should the need arise, and often others must see to it that he rest or stop as, despite his vigor, he is truly not as young as he once was.
He is also exceptionally motivated by a desire to teach and guide those younger than he in the ways of the world and of the self. There are many lessons of life to be gained from the profession of Cellarkeeper and from the life of one such as he, and he is keen on sharing them! Father as he is to his one son, he is also often seen in the presence of the dibbuns telling them a story or playing out a song on his hogtwanger for their benefit.
Despite the betrayals and conniving behaviors he has met in the past, he is quick to trust and holds the Abbey Charter to heart; stay your paw, extend compassion, and be a brother to all. It is a great strength, but also a great weakness.
As for possessions? Brother Ellis is someone who owns a great many things; a sturdy saucepan of many seasons age he cherishes, a hogtwanger maintained with love, the knowledge and tools of The Craft (as he refers to the brewery trade), as well as many other odds and ends he'd collected in his travels and seasons at the Abbey. He prays he never has need of the dusty spear he keeps concealed in the cellars, hidden away from prying dibbun hands!
Hark, listener, to these words! They carry within them a warning of old A warning, dear listener, of a dibbun so bold! This youth, this youth, oh this blessed youth! Nary a thought nor caution was felt Nary a grown'un nor mother was behel't
This little one was reckless, tis true! This little one was a fool, too! He feared not a bruise nor scratch- But the rumble of the stomach was too much for the lad! If ye learn anythin' from this tune, let it be 'do not be bad!'
For this little one, a proper rascal indeed A dibbun of mischief and merriment and greed Once, dear listener, if the story can be told Ran into mossflower wood through a gap in the gate The East Gate!- Lest my memory grow old Out the East Gate did this dibbun meet Fate.
Fate, oh Fate!, is an old, old, friend. Fate will take you by the hand Fate will guide you! Fate will e'er stay true! Fate will blind you! Fate bears no stew!
Nay, that lad, hungry as 'e was Found not a meal hiding in the wood Instead, dear listener, he found a chance to do good. He came across a maiden so fair! So fair, indeed, that this dibbun understood That some things, dear listener, are more important than food.
Danger was afoot in that stretch of wood a Rat was hunting that maiden so fair The dibbun, bold as the sun Took 'er hand in his and set out at a run! Redwall, he cried, will keep you safe! Redwall! Redwall! Oh, blessed fate!
They ran, they swam, they bounded, they leapt The great Rat's nose sniffing as they went! Soon the great Abbey walls rose in their eyes- But the vile rat soon would have them as his prize If not for the walls! Oh Redwall, Oh Redwall! The Walls of Redwall and its great tower Bell!
The Rat leapt from hiding, scooped them young'uns up! But right as he did, the bell was struck! The spirit of Martin rushed to their aid! The Warrior of Redwall always saves the day! While battle was set, the Dibbuns made their haste! For within the walls of Redwall, there was dinner to taste!
But alas, dear listener, that dibbun so bold Had failed his mother, and the father abbot, so cold. For he had worried them! He was bound to be scolded! As for the maiden? What more is to be said? In Redwall she found a home, a hearth, a bed. In Redwall she found family, warmth, and bread.
"Ollie Elly, wontcha sing us annutha singy-songy? Tis gon' be rainywet soon-nuff and marm won' let us playwise." One Dibbun crowed, the young squirrel positively clambering in his seat with uncontained energy. Another seconded his call, and a third followed suit- and soon Ellis found himself barraged by the wanting cries of the children as he idly strummed upon his hogtwanger with the mirthful movements of his head.
"That depen's little 'un." The Hedgehog grumbled in his deep and soft tones. "If the rain is coming, doesn't that mean you lot have some cleanin' to do?" His words birthed a chorus of protesting groans, which warranted a gentle gesture of shushing from his outstretched paw.
"I will take that as a yes!" He laughed as he assuaged their resistances. "But tarry not, fair dibbuns, for my stories are old and remember'd well enough. I'll not forget the next song before dinner tonight. Tis a promise and a deal; keep things tidylike, and Ellis will sing you another for true."
"The Bold!" The squirrel cried. "Singysongy about thassa boldlike hodgypodge!"
"The bold?" Ellis queried, mirth in his eye as he feigned a thoughtful ignorance. "I do believe you mean 'The Old', eh?"
"Nay!" A young gel- a mousegirl- cried. "The Bold! Issa tale about Martin, memorywise!" "Aye! Ollie Elly hassa remember it!" "The Hodgypodge and the maid, wissa vole and shrew an-"
"Ah!" He interrupted them, laughter rising from deep within. "The tale of Sille The Bold and the Fox!" The Hedgehog rose, lowering his spikes and relaxing the instrument in his arms, as he ushered the dibbuns to their tasks. His bulk shook in the vestiges of laughter as the children bumbled off, but his eyes were gazing to some far-off place. Some place far back in the reaches of time, and far off across the wood of Mossflower.
He was older now- had gone by many names over the Seasons- but right now he was thinking of a time that felt a lifetime ago.
A time when he was known as Ellis The Bold.
"Father Abbot- She's alive. Of this I am sure, I feel it in my bones."
"There's no certainty of anything, Ellis, and take to heart the words of this abbey-"
"I know the words. I know. Offer Shelter. Help and Comfort. Be brothers to all. Forsake the violence. Do not preach it to me thus, Abbot, please. I know this to be true. Hear my words, search my eyes, see for yourself; I do this not out of anger but out of love."
Silence weighed over the group for some time. Finally, the abbot spoke;
"Very well then. Go, Ellis. Who all will go with you?"
"Tybalt and Juniper, sir, begging they can be spared. They likewise felt the spirit thus." Ellis intoned quietly. "They were also there with me when we came first upon the Fox."
"The Fox! The Fox!" The Abbot remarked. "Such a conniving thing- such a convincing thing, too! She played us all the fool, eh? Well mark this, Ellis, I do not hold us as fools for outstretching the paw of peace and compassion. If truly the spirit spake in this way and guides you thus, then go with my blessing and be well and hearty. Adelaide is waiting for you..."
And so it was, many seasons ago, that Ellis set off on a journey. Accompanied by Tybalt, a Vole who was as quiet as the wind at night when he felt the need, and Juniper, a Squirrel whose prowess with the saucepan was rivalled only by her tenacity in using it beyond the purposes of mere cutlery, Ellis tasked himself with tracking down a wily creature indeed; Karmelita.
Karmelita had tricked her way into the abbey, begging sanctuary and claiming to be fleeing from a band of vermin most foul. Ellis permitted her entry into the Abbey, wary but keeping the Charter in his heart; compassion, above all else, guiding his recommendation to grant her entry. For a time, Karmelita resided in the infirmary where her wounds were tended. During her stay, small treasures and relics of the Abbey's history were disappearing- tensions were building between the abbeydwellers and the fox.
It was Adelaide who discovered the deception firsthand; Ellis' wife and beloved. Awaking one night, she discerned the Vixen's figure, framed in the full moon, atop the wall by the North Gate discarding a chalice into the paws of a band of vermin down below. When confronted- for Adelaide was a hot-headed woman, for a Hedgehog- Karmelita attacked her. Fearing the stories of Redwall's heroic history, she kidnapped Adelaide to ward off pursuit. Such as the case for many small omens, this rendered itself self-fulfilling; this very act lead to Ellis' adventure from the Abbey.
The trio's journey was long and dangerous. Karmelita and her band had fled far to the North. Along the way they encountered many a friendbeast and foe alike, and Ellis found himself a fledgling warrior too; the spear came naturally to his hands. Three set off, and during the journey their number swelled to nearly a dozen, but the return to the Abbey was made by four.
Ellis, Tybalt, Adelaide, and an infant Hedgehog named Grant. Juniper had not survived the 'venture. Adelaide had given birth while held captive by the Vermin. Joy and Sorrow intertwined, and the Abbey welcomed their Heroes home.
What was in truth so long ago felt like a dream that was yet to pass. Ellis the Bold was a young thing, whose fur and spikes held their color strong; Ellis the Old, as the Dibbuns called him these days, was beginning to show grey and had maintained his bulk less with muscle and more with wine. His far off eyes returned to the here and the now, and he shook himself of this reverie with a sad smile.
So many lost friends, so many stories gained. And Grant. There was always Grant.
"'e has certainly taken to The Craft well." Ellis mused to himself. "Though he does think that ev'ry pretty gel has eyes for him..."
Ellis The Bold, upon returning home to Redwall so long ago, had taken up formal occupation as the Cellarkeeper and Brewer of the Abbey (Thus earning him the title 'Ellis of the Tap'). A job that was now being trained and passed to his son, Grant. A heaviness set itself upon his wearied shoulders. He lifted his head, took up his hogtwanger, and headed out into the air of the front lawn. He sniffed; indeed, a rain was to come presently. A melancholy had gripped the aged Hedgehog, however, and he was not to be deterred.
He walked himself to the North Gate. It had been Adelaide's favorite place to stand, gazing out from the high walls here. When he was here, he felt close to her spirit. He stood there in solitude atop the wall. Thoughts of love and life, sorrow and solace, filled him; thoughts of the future, of love still, and of prosperity consoled him. He could still see Adelaide alive in the face of Grant, in the way he laughed, in the way he handled the casks and barrels and sampled the ales- His boy was a man grown now, but a father never stops seeing his child beneath the Seasons.
Ellis turned when the rain broke and began to fall, enjoying the beginnings of the downpour on his spikes as he traversed a world of memory. Life was good, and his was full; it was now his duty to see to it that those experiences survived and guided those who would come after.
I think it goes without saying that this sheet is accepted.
When it comes to protecting the Abbey, Zaris has a strict no nonsense type disposition. He understands the necessity of following orders and playing things careful and safe in order to protect the well being of all the goodbeasts that call it their home. There isn’t time for hesitation when lives are on the line or vermin at the door. Though this does make him somewhat impulsive and he will jump to conclusions or leap into a fray without thinking much of himself. He is incredibly loyal to those who he cares for, or have done something for him-he doesn't like the idea of having debts to anyone-and will put their wellbeing above his own in times of need.
However, when he's off the proverbial clock he is more than willing to let loose a little bit and have some fun. He likes to keep things light and avoid serious topics of conversation, unless strictly necessary. Like most other otters he has the similar kind of free-spirited energy and enthusiasm that drives them to enjoy life to the fullest. He does have some difficulty keeping things to himself, or keeping a secret, and will usually say whatever comes to mind without thinking much of it. So, unless someone is there to stop him from spilling secrets it's best just to not tell him things that the whole Abbey shouldn't know.
Part of the reason Zaris is so willing to leap into the fray is sheer stubbornness and, what he considers, serious physical resilience. This has lead to a number of scars, but he always thinks of it as "better himself than someone else." When he gets his mind set on something it's very difficult to change it without good reason. He sees himself as a protector and will blame himself if someone gets hurt when he could have done something to prevent it.
|Motivations|
Protection: Protect those who cannot protect themselves and prevent something bad from happening, again.
Find purpose and his tribe: With the loss of his tribe it has been difficult for Zaris to find his way in the world. Working at the Abbey has given him something to do, but he feels like there's more that he could be doing. He also wants to find the remnants of his tribe to see if his father is still alive.
Prove himself: He feels partially responsible for the death of many of the members of his tribe at the hands of a vermin hoard and wants to prove to himself, and the members of his tribe if they remain, that he is deserving of his name and blade.
Vengeance: Find the stoat that killed his mother.
History
Zaris was born to a tribe of river otters in the north of Mossflower Woods along the stream that runs down towards Redwall Abbey. The tribe wasn't massive in comparison to some in history, but still had a fair number of members. Enough to be well enough protected from most anything that would threaten them. His father, the Skipper of their tribe, was incredibly pleased to have a son and immediately began to dote on him far more than anyone else would have expected of the somewhat stern leader of their tribe. His mother was just as competent of a warrior in their tribe as his father and couldn't wait until her son would be able to begin to learn how to fight and the intricacies of the tribe.
Once he got old enough Zaris began to learn how to fight from both of his parents using the swords that his tribe was known for as well as slings. He took fairly quickly to the practice, but found difficulty in the fact that he never wanted to potentially hurt anyone, and his father was always somewhat exasperated by his unwillingness to really get into it. Despite being told stories from when he was very young about the vermin that will attack them without thought he still struggled with it.
This hesitancy changed rather quickly when a band of vermin from the North Hills traipsed into Mossflower with the intention of attacking the goodbeasts within, and likely trying to make their way to Redwall Abbey. The vermin ambushed their streamside home during the night and in the ensuing fight many of the members of his tribe were killed, including his mother who pushed him out of the way of a stoat's blade. He retrieved his mother's blade, as well as his own and joined in the fight with the rest of his tribe. He held his own for some time but the vermin were too numerous. He doesn't remember the rest of the battle as he was knocked unconscious.
When he awoke he was within the vermin's camp with a couple of the other younger members of his tribe. He wasn't sure of the further intentions of the vermin but he knew that they wouldn't be good. It took them some time, and no small amount of struggle against the vermin, but he and the others were able to break free of their bindings, take down their guards, and retrieve their weapons before the rest of the camp was alerted. It was an even more difficult fight, since there were so few of them, but they were able to fight their way out of the camp. He got separated from the other two during their flight through Mossflower Woods, but was able to make it back to the stream before he lost consciousness.
It was thanks to the goodbeasts at the Abbey that he didn't die in the stream and ever since he decided to stay at the Abbey and help them in order to pay off the debt he felt he had to them for saving his life.
|Abbey Role|
Zaris serves the Abbey as a protector of sorts, though he wants to find the remnants of his tribe he feels an obligation to those who saved him. Until he feels he's paid his debt he wants to stay and help in whatever way he can. He would also admit a fondness for many of the beasts that are there.
Equipment
Joined swords-A pair of curved silver blades with a leather wrapped handles. One was given to him by his father when he first began to learn how to fight and the other from his mother.
Sling-A classic sling that is used by many of the otter tribes for throwing rocks
Hip Pouch-A small pouch that he keeps his sling stones along with other odds and ends that he has found during his time in Mossflower Woods.
Other:
Several of the scars that he has are actually from his father as he refused to fight back for quite some time when he was being trained. He'll never admit this since many of the others are from his time imprisoned by the vermin band that attacked his tribe and protecting others.
Relationships:
TBD
Most everything is here, but there's still a couple things I might want to add or edit. Let me know if there's anything missing overall that you want to know!
I think if you want to have Zaris work at the Abbey in more of a protector role, I think you'd be better off with making him something like a Gatekeeper's Assistant. That way he can keep watch while also not being in a 'warrior' role. I don't see the Abbey having any sort of standing army and currently, they have no Abbey Warrior so I think working with the Gatekeeper would be a good compromise for your character.
Reluctantly retired roleplayer.
Except when I'm not.
Why are you here when you should be writing posts?
You can edit a bad draft, but you cannot edit a blank page.
<div style="white-space:pre-wrap;">Reluctantly retired roleplayer. <br><br>Except when I'm not.<br><br>Why are you here when you should be writing posts?<br><br>You can edit a bad draft, but you cannot edit a blank page.</div>
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