vietmyke

The Wolven Storm

Will get something up once I get back home tomorrow

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Following a set of rather detailed instructions to the small town, a young armored knight on horseback caught the eye of many as he entered the village. The settlement, while large, appeared to be rather poor- so the presence of any visitor was probably an uncommon sight. The vast majority of the buildings in the town were made of wood, and the streets were rather haphazardly paved with a combination of loose cobblestones and mud. All in all, it was a rather drab place- save for the conspicuously ornate, almost ostentatious manor at the top of the hill facing the town. Despite this, Emil was glad to have finally arrived after several long days on the road, and immediately made his way towards a nearby inn to restock his dwindling supplies, as well as give his horse a well needed break.

Emil had begun unwinding in the tavern underneath the inn, making small conversation with the barkeeper as the man refilled his waterskins and made arrangements to restock the young knight's supplies when a small, cowed man attempted to gain Emil's attention. The man himself was actually of fairly average height, but stood in a very hunched, very tamed manner, as though he was less than a man. The small fellow managed to stammer out to him a request to proceed to the house at the hill with all due haste, though the request seemed almost more like pleading, begging, as though his life depended on it. Tired, but not too tired to spurn his entire reason for visiting this town, Emil paid the barkeep, and gathered up his belongings.

Emil opted to walk up to the house, holding the reins of his horse in hand and leading the creature instead of riding it. The path to the house was short, and Emil didn't want to seem arrogant if his hose was at the top of the hill waiting for him. As it was, a small crowd was already starting to form up in the courtyard of this home- the most obvious of which was a rather large, brawny man loudly knocking on the wooden door, the door's knocker loud enough to fill the courtyard with its noise. Wrapping his lead to a post, Emil left his horse near the gate and approached the front door where the large brawny man was attempting to make his presence known.

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Spontaneous lunch date with bae, will write when I get back!

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So before Emil was a thing, I was originally working on some completely different concept- just in case the party needed some 'dawww' factor in it. I ended up(clearly) opting for a different character instead of this one, but instead of just leaving it to collect dust in the corner, I thought I'd might as well share it!

Hartir

Name: Hartir, or Hart

Species:
Earth Sprite
A spirit like species, akin to nymphs and faeries, but close relatives to fauns and satyrs. An ancient and rather uncommon race, these creatures are commonly regarded as mere myth by the majority of societies. A diminutive race, Earth Sprites often grow no taller than 5 feet in height, with the majority sitting at around 4 feet, and they maintain the same size throughout the entirety of their lives. They are notable for having animal-like features similar to fauns and satyrs, and are relatively long lived- with the average lifespan being approximately 200 years. These creatures are generally extremely withdrawn from worldly affairs, only occasionally intrude on the affairs of other mortal races and live either solitary lives or in small clans hidden away in the deepest forests. As a race, Earth Sprites are flighty and mischievous, and their occasional contact with the other mortal races is partially responsible for the legend of mischievous forest spirits and creatures causing trouble in secluded villages.

Age: 37
While older than most humans, in the eyes of his species, Hartir is merely an adolescent. However, despite his supposed 'youth', he is still quite capable of besting the several average men in combat.

Description:

Image

Hartir stands in at 4'6", or a mere 4 feet without his ears, and weighs considerably little. His thin frame is hidden by the many layers of oversized clothes that he wears. His most prominent features are his large ears and tail, and is usually seen wearing a gold ring pierced through his right ear. Like many of his species his skin is pale, and his diminutive frame belies a surprising amount of strength for his size- roughly equal to a fully grown human male of good health.

Personality:
Calm and aloof, Hartir lacks the generally flighty and unpredictable demeanor typical of his race. Generally peaceful and rather difficult to upset, Hartir sports a perpetually lukewarm disposition. Having lived a rather sheltered life, Hartir shows great interest in seeing and learning, but occasionally loses touch with his surroundings and appears lost in thought. Hartir sports a relatively positive demeanor that, while bordering on naivety, bolsters the spirits of those around him. He has a habit of using things/people as a perch, though his incredibly light weight is rarely inhibiting.

Skills/Abilities:
Nature Empath - While unable to directly converse with creatures and monsters, Hartir can often sense their feelings and relay his own to them. More intense emotions- such as aggression or despair are more palpable.

Herbalist - As one who has spent much of his life in nature, Hartir has spent considerable time studying the various properties of herbs and their possible medicinal uses.

Martial Prowess - Well accustomed to the limits and capabilities of his body, Hartir is a skilled martial fighter, honed in both mind and body. Despite this, he generally uses his abilities to keep out of his opponent's reach rather than overwhelm them.

Martial Skills

Feng Style - A martial art derived from hand to hand combat techniques from the far east, Feng Style is known for its constant and often circular movement, which makes it difficult for opponents to attack directly or land a blow. Maneuvers employ the entire body with smooth coiling and uncoiling movements, relying on spontaneous and reactionary movements as opposed to grounded and powerful ones. Feng Style utilizes dynamic footwork, and Hartir has modified his style to include quick and rapid open-hand techniques, punches, and throws. A common tactic is to maneuver behind an opponent and mirror their movements, preventing them from turning to face the practitioner. Hart's skill in the Feng style, along with his small size and speed, allows him to flow in and out of the way of oncoming blows and objects, and could conceivably allow him to evade multiple targets at once.

Air Stride - A subset skill of the Feng Style. In combination with his light weight and being naturally attuned to his magical energies as well as his natural agility. Hartir is able to bound incredible distances through the air- hence the illusion of striding on air, without considerable effort, and can even use water as a surface to bound from.

Magic:
While a skilled martial artist, the vast amount of Hartir's offensive power stems from techniques utilizing his sizable pool of inner mana (Because I don't want to be stereotypical and call it 'Chi'). His techniques require no verbal or material components, though most require a somatic component of some sort, along with a clear mind. Hartir's mental exhaustion builds the more he uses his abilities.

magical abilities

Chi Pulse - A low powered blast of energy, in the form of a flaming blue orb, fired from an outstretched limb- be it palm, fist, or foot. Relatively weak, these pulses can be fired in relatively quick succession, and have the kinetic force capable of knocking the wind out of a man, as well as slightly burning him.

Chi Blast - A moderately powerful chi attack, in the form of a crescent or disk, fired from a sweeping motion- often a kick though occasionally an arm swipe. More powerful than a Chi Pulse, this attack requires more deliberate movement and concentration and has the ability to cut or shatter brittle material and the kinetic force capable of knocking a man off his feet.

Chi Beam - A powerful chi attack, in the form of a solid beam of blue energy, fired from an outstretched palm. Considerably more powerful than a Chi Blast, this attack has the downside or requiring Hartir to stop moving in order to perform- thus leaving him open to attack, though he has been able to perform this attack while in the air as well. This attack has considerable kinetic and heat energy, and is capable of killing a man if exposed to the attack for too long.

Chi Seal - A chi attack in the form of a etheral paper tag, when applied to the enemy, particularly an enemy's limb, constricts their movement by slowing and denying them full control over said limb. This leaves them open to more powerful attacks from comrades, or Hartir himself. These can be applied through direct contact with a foe, but are more often than not conjured en masse from a distant location, and then launched at foes in volleys. Hartir can quickly conjure up multiple, weak and easily overwhelmed tags, or spend more concentration and mental resources on a more powerful, more restrictive seal. Alternatively, Chi Seals can be used to prevent a broken limb from moving- acting as a magical splint until more advanced medical care can be provided.

Chi Spear - Hartir's only chi attack requiring physical contact- and by extension, his most risky maneuver. This maneuver envelopes Hartir's forearm in a sheath of chi energy, allowing him stab at an enemy with his arm. Contact with the target results in the 'spear' launching and often piercing through the target, and is capable of causing fatal damage. Due to the risks it poses to the user, and the mental resources required to perform the attack, Hartir often uses it as a finishing attack.

Meditative Trance - By sitting and clearing his mind, Hartir can quickly regain his spent mental resources through meditation. Unlike sleeping, when Hartir is in a meditative trance, he is still aware of the world around him- though his physical senses are considerably dulled. During a meditative trance, Hartir can also more easily detect the emotions of creatures around him. Meditative trance is the only way in which Hartir can regain his spent energy- sleeping will not.

Air Brake - Often used in conjunction with Hartir's air striding ability, Hartir can use this ability to slow himself while in the air, allowing him to safely land from large heights. He cannot use air brake to change direction, nor can he bound again from his place in the air.

Backstory:
An Earth Sprite hailing from the far east regions of the continent, in the deep forests of Galron, Hartir was born the second child of a clan healer. In a clan no larger than a few dozen sprites, Hartir's early existence was relatively peaceful- their secluded and nomadic nature made it easy for them to avoid unwanted contact with the other mortal races. Unlike the flighty and mischievous natures that the other younglings in the clan, Hartir possessed a more stoic, quiet demeanor, and showed a considerable for learning and self improvement over fun and games. The clan's leader obliged Hartir's desire for knowledge, and began teaching him the arts of the Feng Style early on, as well as how to manifest and use his inner energies. As a rather spiritual clan, the knowledge of the Feng style arts were often used as a method of clearing the mind, and it was only later in life did Hartir adjust the Feng style to suit combat.

At the age of 20, Hartir was given a choice, as all other children sprites were given at his age. He could stay in the village and apprentice himself to one of their members, or he could embark on his own to fulfill his own calling- be it joining another clan, or spending a life of solitary meditation. Hartir chose to embark on a journey of his own, to seek out knowledge unknown to him. With the blessings of his family and clan, Hartir left the forests of Galron and began wandering, eventually finding himself in the realms of the other mortal races.

While mortals- humans, elves, dwarves and the like, offered interesting perspectives and knowledges that Hartir had not yet considered, he soon realized that many of these species could be rather aggressive and hostile- several humans in rather rough clothing occasionally attempted to use blades to relieve him of his few personal belongings. While for the most part easily evading assailants, Hartir eventually came to the conclusion that he must learn to defend himself.

Studying hand to hand combat techniques of the various races, Hartir adopted these more violent motions into his clan's Feng Style, eventually incorporating offensive techniques involving his own inner energies as well. Hartir slowly integrated himself into the societies of man as well- his knowledge of herbs often traded for coin in order to purchase himself food and clothing, though his stature and appearance often earned him odd looks from people. As a result, Hartir generally stayed away from more secluded and sheltered villages- whose inhabitants were more likely to believe him to be a monster or beast, and attempt to scare him off with spears and torches.

Hartir eventually found himself in Waeldeshore, a mercantile town which couldn't really care much how he looked- as long as he had coin. Hartir spent most of his days trading herbs, or occasionally travelling alongside a trade caravan until one fateful day, he received a message from a great sage.

There are quite a few visible concepts from this character that Emil is derived from, and I had decided to take a more typical approach when designing Emil as a character. Though that being said, I sorta think I like Hartir more than Emil.

Edit: Also, what is the name of the town that we're in? Its not Waeldeshore I assume?

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Oops! Ignore me! >.<

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'-'
_{She seems kinda mean...}

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@IcePezz ah, lol. Most of my family is from cali, so I tend to pick up some of their slang.

The Wolven Storm

Odran Tarlach

A gaunt and grizzled man, standing a head taller than the majority of his comrades. His body is sinewy and rugged, pockmarked with cuts, scars, and scrapes from years of combat. His beady eyes are a dull brown, and his face is almost perpetually pulled into a rough scowl. His dirty blonde hair is kept neat and short and is usually hidden under his beret, and manifests on his face in the form of a thick and full beard. His posture is rigid and straight, and his voice is rough and gravelly.

Odran more often than not is seen in his armor, and constantly wears his trademark beret. Occasionally, in more casual settings he'll remove the armor on his arms, and opt for a pair of worn leather gloves. The only time he doesn't wear his armor, is when he wears blue livery bearing the standard of the company- typically for formal occasions in which wearing armor and weapons is frowned upon.

Name: Odran Tarlach
Race: Human
Age: 52
Magic potency: Yes

Military Background

Years Spent in Service: 34
Equipment:

Odran's Armor

Odran wears plate armor on his arms and legs, as well as a thick brigandine over chainmail on his torso, covered with a deep blue tabard bearing the running direwolf of the Company on its chest.

• A bastard sword and accompanying dagger forged by Dalgen of Farhold, a well-renowned dwarven bladesmith
• A heater shield with the company standard emblazoned across.
• A red beret he wears while not in combat- signifying his seniority in the Company
• A pouch with herbal ointments for the soothing of wounds.
• A tome strapped to his side that contains the formulae of basic magical spells, instructions on intricate medical care, knowledge on various common medicinal plants, as well as descriptions of the actions and history of the Company of Wolves

Skills: (List from most potent to least)

• Seasoned Warrior - Odran is a talented swordsman, despite his advancing age. While he is no longer in his prime, he often instructs and trains new recruits in swordplay and general soldiering
• Strategist - While the Captain comes up with brilliant battlefield schemes and tactics, Odran is responsible for ensuring the logistics of the Captain's plans are sound.
• Rugged Sergeant - Though the captain may exude an aura that commands respect out of inspiration and awe, Odran sports a rugged and rough no-nonsense demeanor that demands respect- and spirits help you if you try to show dissent towards the Captain in front of him.
• Basic Spellcaster - Odran has a basic grip over magic, with only a handful of spells memorized and written down in his book.

The Mind

Psych Profile:
A serious man with a strong work ethic, Odran is a gruff and intimidating man with a distinct no-nonsense demeanor and is typically impervious to the jokes and wisecracks made by his comrades. Only rarely willing to crack a grin for his close compatriots, Odran is for the most part incredibly blunt and to the point, though generally not confrontational- he typically doesn't need to be. Strong willed, and somewhat hard-headed, Odran never starts something without finishing it- even if it takes him hours, days, or even weeks. Despite his callous attitude, Odran shows genuine care and concern regarding the wellbeing of the company and the men and women within its ranks. Though jaded, and somewhat cynical, Odran is a staunch believer in the traditions and values of the Company and demonstrates absolute loyalty to The Captain. Despite possessing a well developed moral compass, Odran will often ignore morality and act in what he believes are in the best interest of himself and his compatriots.

Odran values loyalty, respect, and honor, and shows a distaste towards underhandedness and trickery, though admits to their usefulness in regards to strategy. He despises incompetence and is quick to discipline unruly and insubordinate soldiers.

History:
Like many 'career' soldiers of the Company, Odran came from nothing and joined the Company in hopes of living a better life. Born the child of a hunter and an herbalist in the southern heartlands, Odran never had much in the form of amenities. Game was small, hard to find, or reserved for nobility, and food due to its abundance meant that meats and furs never sold for particularly high prices. Odran spent most of his childhood on his feet, helping his parents either hunt or gather herbs. Odran was a restless child, the calm complacency of gathering herbs, and brewing medicine bored him, and the 'thrill' of stalking around and shooting squirrels with a bow bored him. Dissatisfied with his dull life, Odran sought a life of excitement and adventure, something that was more than gathering plants and skinning squirrels.

At the age of 15, Odran ran away from home and found an exciting new life in the form of a local gang. Consisting of bandits and thieves, Odran quickly adopted their ways- much to the dismay of his parents. Stealing from homes, beating people up for thrills, mugging, for nearly three years Odran punched, backstabbed, and stole his way to the top of the gang, unafraid to break limbs, ruin livelihoods, or even slit throats to get there. While with the gang, Odran learned how to fight, how to extort, how to steal, and how to exploit others. By the age of 18, he was the gang boss' go-to guy, his best fighter, his most ruthless thug, and most cunning cutthroat.

Eventually, the boss found himself in need of a new lieutenant, a new underboss, as the old one had attempted a coup- and was quickly put down by none other than Odran. Giving Odran another job to prove himself, the boss told Odran that a small family had been staunchly refusing to pay their 'protection' fees, even going so far as to fend off a few of the gang's thugs. Because of their show of resistance, more families from the town were beginning to fight back- they needed to be made an example of. Odran set off that night, with an unlit torch, and several barrels of pitch. The house had only been recently built for a new family, and as a result was constructed of rather young wood and stone- making it hard to light afire traditionally. Odran had to sneak into the house to pour pitch within the building as well as outside to properly set the building ablaze.

After thoroughly lacing the house with pitch, Odran exited the home and set it ablaze, standing back to watch the inhabitants attempt to put out the fire or escape- a futile effort, as Odran was good at what he did. Within moments, the entire house was in flames- no matter how quickly help got there, it was the end for the family and their home, and Odran grinned with morbid satisfaction as a pair of hands threw open the windows. When the voice screamed for help, Odran's grin quickly became a face of horror. He recognized the voice. Sprinting towards the burning house, Odran realized that he had just put his own parents to the torch, but there was nothing he could do- he had done too good a job of setting the place on fire.

Returning to the gang's hideout, ignoring the cheering of the other gang members, Odran approached his boss, who gave him a smug smile and congratulated him on a job well done. The boss was in the middle of applauding Odran's loyalty to the gang when Odran stepped forward and jabbed a knife into the boss' throat. Fighting his way out of the hideout, Odran fled the town, the gang, the smoldering wreck of his parents' home, and the remains of his old life. Chased down by some of the gang members on horseback, Odran was surrounded and almost put to the sword when a detachment from a mercenary company happened to come by, and seeing the situation, proceed to cut the bandits down.

Taking this as an act of fate, Odran joined up with the mercenary group- known as the Company of the Wolf. He dedicated himself to a more honorable, more honest life. Remolded and forged into an example soldier, Odran fought with valor and distinguished himself as a prominent and capable man within the Company's ranks. From the wars in the south, to the Ironmount campaign in the north, Odran conducted himself with honor and courage, in an attempt to absolve himself of the atrocities he had committed in his younger years. One of the few surviving members that remember The Captain during his younger years, stories within the Company often say that Odran and the Captain regularly fought side by side during their time in the rank and file. Decades of service and warfare later, Odran is one of the most senior members of the Company of the Wolf, and serves as The Captain's right hand, his Lieutenant.

Denouement

Character Motivation: Odran considers his service to the Company his eternal penance for killing his family.
Significant Relations:
Parents: - Deceased.
The Captain: - Arguably Odran's oldest comrade.
Opinions on Others: (How do they feel about the rest of the team? This can be left blank and added on after everyone adds a sheet.)

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<Snipped quote by vietmyke>

Lol "hella" ... Cringes... Are you from Cali?

@IcePezz

Lol idk how much cali costs, I'm from DC and cigs cost $10 a pack on average.

@Crimson Raven well I mean, if you're gonna do stuff that's bad for your health anyway, you might as well be cost efficient about it...