VoiD

Starless

Thank you, I put a lot of effort into making him seem like a classical hero.

Starless

Awesome post! I'll start working on a response.

Starless

Google. Haha.

Starless

C I N N E A D

S P E A R O F T H E W E S T

M Y T H O L O G Y

The circumstances of Cinnead's birth have long been subject to controversy. In the version of his tale traditional to the highlands of where he grew up, Cinnead was born to a village hunter and his wife. However, in the tale courtly bards often tell, Cinnead was the son of a noble baron who was stolen from his cradle by a vengeful crone. Regardless of his true origins, all agree that the hero was blessed by Faerthius with his incredible cunning and that Fulthrim, not to be outdone, bestowed upon Cinnead a part of his own fury. This fury would only manifest in battle and would come to be known as his daemon.

Though the details of his birth and childhood are foggy at best, Cinnead first came to prominence at a relatively young age. He was said to have been a hunter of extraordinary skill, able to venture into any forest and catch enough game to feed the entirety of his humble village. He would boast of hunting boars by himself, a task usually requiring a party of ten or more, and that how no beast of Goethia's was safe from him. Cinnead's hubris angered Goethia, and she sent one of her Great Beasts, Ladon, to punish him and his village. Cinnead encountered Ladon on his next hunt, and their battle lasted three days and three nights; the earth was said to have trembled and shook with the ferocity of their fight. Finally, Cinnead triumphed by thrusting his spear into the beast's unprotected mouth when it roared. Furious at his triumph, Goethia appeared before Cinnead and made to strike him down. However, ever cunning, he immediately begged forgiveness for his tresspasses. Mollified, Goethia forgave him and granted Cinnead the pelt of Ladon.

Several years later, Cinnead celebrated his manhood ritual by going on a grand hunt. Accompanied by a dozen hunters from his village, he set off into the northlands tracking a boar. They traveled for many days and nights and crossed a great distance; far enough that the other hunters wished to turn back, fearing the monsters that lived in the forests ahead. Cinnead placated them with eloquent words, and the next day they stumbled upon the cave-lair of Arges the Giant. Arges slew ten of the hunters and captured the rest, along with Cinnead, seeking to preserve them for a later meal. However Cinnead, crafty as he was, tricked Arges into thinking that there was a second hunting party and that he would lead Arges to them in return for his freedom. When Arges agreed and went to untie Cinnead's bonds, Cinnead struck his eyes and tripped him onto a stalagmite. Cinnead then leapt atop the felled giant and dashed his brains across the cave walls with a large stone, and claimed an ear from his corpse.

When Cinnead was twenty, he was invited to be part of the retinue of a famous lord. There, he met a hooded man who would not give his name. Offended, for Cinnead had already given his, he challenged the man to a game of riddles; if Cinnead won, the man would give his name, and if the man won, Cinnead would leave him alone. The hooded man accepted, and so they traded riddles back and forth for the better part of a day, before the man became stumped. He thought and reasoned and scratched his head but could not come forth with an answer, and so he admitted defeat, revealing himself to be Orthus. Impressed with his wit, Orthus gifted upon Cinnead one of his own spears: Brionac. Made entirely of black iron and enchanted to be as light as a feather, the spear would return to its owner upon calling its name. He warned Cinnead that by accepting this gift he would achieve everlasting fame, at the cost of a short life. Cinnead, in his hubris, did not heed Orthus' warning and claimed Brionac for his own.

With Brionac, Cinnead would go on to have many more adventures. He would battle great beasts, rescue fair maidens, slay evil tyrants, and increase his legend with each passing day. So great grew his fame that no man in all of Ansus did not know of his name or deeds. He was welcomed with celebrations befitting the highest of lords wherever he went, and was much beloved amongst the common folk. But although he was hailed as a hero, men are but mortals and as such he was the target of lords envious of his fame. One such lord, Count Adolar of the Reaches, was a particularly jealous man. So great was his hate for Cinnead that, after some years, Adolar gathered a great host of men to slay him. Cinnead ran afoul of them crossing the highlands of the north and, despite felling many more his number, was mortally wounded. He retreated to a hill, where a solitary tree grew; the only in tree in hundreds of miles of highlands. There, he chained himself to it's trunk so it may hold him up, and slew any man that approached him. For five days and five nights he stood there against the tree, and on the sixth day after the bodies began to pile like a great wall and the blood began to run like a river down the hill, did Cinnead finally give his last breath. His killers would not approach him until a raven landed on his shoulder, so furiously lethal was he even at the doors of death; among the slain lay Adolar. That tree and hill are said to still stand today, and are immortalized as Cinnead's Stand.

A P P E A R A N C E

Though there have been many depictions of him across history, few can agree on how Cinnead appeared beyond those detailed specifically in his myth; a young man of average height and build with a wild mane of hair. Usually he is shown to be wearing some form of scale armour, accompanied by hard-boiled leather and a fine fur cloak, and always is he depicted with his famous spear Brionac. As he was a famed hunter of beasts, Cinnead is often seen prowling in a forest.

A B I L I T I E S / E Q U I P M E N T

Cinnead is known to have been perhaps the greatest spearman to have ever walked the land. Such was his skill, and so renowned was it during his time, that the smallest form of patronage was enough to launch any prodigious warrior into the highest echelons of fame. He was known to possess a truly heroic level of guile and cunning, a trait of his that was more well known than even his skill with a spear. Often would lords and kings call upon his council, and often would they bless his name afterwards, not realizing that they had been made utter fools of.

During his short life, Cinnead accumulated several magical items of great value. The first, and greatest, is his spear Brionac, with shaft of bone and head of enchanted iron. Crafted from the bones of a titanic sea beast and blessed by Goethia, the spear will return to it's owner upon command and is said to be never dulling. Cinnead was also said to possess a cloak of fur, cut from the hide of the Ladon the Great Bear, supposesdly impervious to the ravages of the elements. Most tales vary on the rest of his equipment, though all agree it was enchanted in some form or another.

A G E O F L E G E N D

34,000 years

Theme

Game of Thrones: The Long Night

Drafting stuff for my first IC is getting me way too hyped haha.

Age of Mythology: An RP of the Greek Heroic Age

Sorry I haven't gotten up a CS yet, I've been all over the place. I'll get one up by tomorrow for sure though. Excited for the RP :)

Starless

Yeah, I just made my CS and first IC today. I doubt Transcience would mind as long as you post regularly :)

Starless

First IC post is up! If it wasn't clear at the end, I am still hunting the boar. Feel free to jump in anyone or hit me up for a collab, I'm looking forward to this!

Starless

C I N N E A D

It was quiet in the forest, an unusual occurrence. At least, that is what his long hunting experience told Cinnead, for he could not clearly remember a time when this forest was not devoid of sound. He knew that this was not right, that something was clearly wrong, but the full realization and its implications danced away from him every time he reached out to grasp them. In the deepest, darkest depths of his subconsciousness he realized that he was no longer amongst the living, but like a name you could not quite recall this fact eluded his conscious self. Memories of times before seemed to float away, mirages of vivid images that seemed simply too good to be true. For the forest Cinnead found himself in was a dark place where only moonlight guided him; an eternal night that no sun ever rose to chase away.

But now was not the time to concern himself with such things. He was on the hunt. A hunt, for a boar of such size and splendour that Goethia would surely curse his name for robbing her of such a fine creature. No matter. This would not be the first time, after all. Cinnead allowed himself a small grin, before he picked up his spear and rose from the brush which he had been hiding in. With careful, measured steps he moved across the forest floor. He knew, in a way he could hardly articulate, that the boar was nearby. The knowledge was of such a tantalizing nature to him that he had to forcibly suppress his desire to run ahead with reckless abandon; though in a moment of surprising insight he suspected that the boar would not hear him coming. Carefully, Cinnead parted the foliage ahead of him to reveal an open clearing. The moon shone dimly above, casting what little light it could upon the boar that was but ten paces away. If Cinnead had been breathing, it would have caught in his throat.

It was a truly enormous beast. He doubted that if two men stood atop each other's shoulders they would reach the boar's full height. Its smooth, brown pelt seemed to shimmer ethereally, and its gigantic tusks were of the most perfect white. It seemed, somehow, to exude a confidence with its every movement; as if the boar knew it was king of this forest and that no being could ever challenge it. Cinnead steadied himself, shaking his head futily to clear it of the awe he felt. He raised his spear, measuring the distance for the throw, sighting the angle required for an instant kill. And then, leaning backwards, he took a hop forward and threw with all his might, watching the spear as it flew true towards the boar, shouting in triumph as it struck home and the boar squealed once in surprise and then was quiet, raising his fists towards the sky as the great beast fell onto its side and lay still-

Except he didn't. None of that happened. The boar, his spear, the forest, the moon - all of it was gone, replaced by an utter and absolute darkness that threatened to consume him. He realized, belatedly, that he was floating in this great nothingness, except that he could not move, could not even open his mouth. And in a rush, as if a dam had been broken, a torrent of memory streamed into his consciousness. The hill, the tree, his last stand, the stench of blood and the feeling of horrible pain, Adolar furious and afraid in equal measure, him great and terrible but dying, dying, and his spear flashing in and out, leaving only death in its wake - all of it returned to him. He tried to cry out, but could not, for nothing existed in this place and nothing could ever exist, his very presence an anomaly, the breaking of what had been an eternal law. And then...and then there was a voice, except it seemed to come from inside his head, and not out.

I have not forgotten you, Spear of the West...
The time has come...
The need is great...
You shall return...

His vision suddenly warped, as if he was traveling a great distance at an equally great speed. And then, inexplicably, he was on his back. His chest heaved, gasping for air. He sat up, coughing violently, and looked around in wonder. Cinnead knew this place. It was where he had died, atop a hill graced by a solitary tree. Instinctively he reached out to his right and grasped a spear, though it was not his spear, it was not Brionac. Cinnead did not mind, however, for he knew, in a way he could hardly articulate, that the boar was near. And he was on a hunt.

Starless

Hey hey! Working on responses now, but weekends are busier for me than the weekday so i'm taking my sweet time. My promise of 24 since my last post, however, still stands. It'll be ready by morning.

And VoiD, i've had a scan of your CS and it looks good. I'm going to do a deep read of it a little later; but feel free to begin a IC post.

@rivaan ;D

@Transience

Will do, thanks!