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Hidden 10 yrs ago 10 yrs ago Post by HeySeuss
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HeySeuss DJ Hot Carl

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Artwork depicting the ambush of Isildur, from the Lord of the Rings. Also conveys the idea of what goes on in this RP. ;)
Instructions:
  • Using the provided template, please post a character sheet here.
  • Everything else goes on the OOC tab, thank you.
Character Sheet:
(Template Here)
Name: Age: Gender: Species: Physical Description:
It's probably best to actually describe the character if you are going to rely on a picture, or you can do without the picture if you like, but definitely describe.
Skillset:
Talents one has either naturally or through education or training of some sort. Brand of the Nightwood was the character's adoptive father, so it's natural that they know how to track, move silently and otherwise be very much at home surviving in the wild, including how to hunt.
History:
Explain how your character got there -- no 'the story will come out in RP' lines, please -- I want a feel for where your character is coming from. Feel free to work up names and places and so forth. Be sure to mention any specific enemies made as well. Also, since the characters all were orphans taken in by Brand, they started out in a similar situation -- under the old ranger's wing.
Psychological Profile:
An idea of how the character thinks and so forth; should be linked to the history.
Equipment:
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Name: Borzgo & Tohi Age: 25/90 Gender: Both Male Species: Borzgo is recognized as a Guar'khan'i, a high caste of bearmen in the social hierarchy of animal races. Tohi claims his tribe of war tortoisans, the Trusted Shield, are unrecognized dignitaries of the manbeastial food chain. In truth, the Trusted Shield's genealogy is not well documented - some even theorize that they are an off shoot of the more densely populated Lizard clans of the east.
Physical Description:
Skillset:
Though both were natural survivalists in the wild, Brand of the Nightwood accelerated their instinctual gifts to hunt and track using their unique genetic traits as guar'khan'i (acute sense of smell and hearing) and tortoisan (patience and swimming/diving underwater). Brand was the one who put weapons in their hands, trained them to fight in close quarters and learn how to fight as one.
Borzgo:
  • Smithing: Time and resources permitted, Borzgo's craftsmanship is that of a seasoned smith. Despite his large paws, the bearman can etch fine intricacies with a consistent touch. His specialty lies more in repair - especially armor.
  • Tradesman: More self-proclaimed than referred to as, Borzgo's wares accommodate farmers, shopkeepers and soldiers alike. His inventory is kept stowed on board his traveling caravan. It is carefully monitored - especially from the likes of Tohi.
  • Springing Traps: Where Tohi is known to make traps, Borzgo is well accustomed to springing them. This skill is often sought after in manbeastial communities that are constantly being hunted.
Tohi:
  • Fisherman: One thing Borzgo will admit is that Tohi is indeed a master fisherman. The rarest of games are never out of his reach. Tohi prefers to spearfish, but he is also well-versed in netting, and poles with lures. A hefty bag of coin is almost always guaranteed when he sells his rarer efforts at the local market.
  • Trap setting: Primarily for hunting animals that roam land, air or sea - there is no terrain that can get past Tohi's creative ways for trapping things. Tohi and Borzgo often brainstorm creative methods to innovate traps, especially non-lethal ones, but it is almost always the tortoisan's ideas that stick the most.
  • Gift of Gab: Though tortoisan's are stereotyped as slow-witted, Tohi is anything but. While Borzgo is the tradesman, it goes without saying that Tohi is usually the one that negotiates the deals to perfection. While verbosity tickles his carapaces, he knows when to keep things simple - reading and understanding people is a favorite past time of his. Tohi also has a great story telling voice, and is always favored in taverns and caravan stops to share his most riveting tales.
  • Cook: Specializes in seafood and herbivore-esque dishes. Is a spice maniac and has been known to drive away customers because of this.
History:
The path was originally set for Borzgo and Tohi to collide in brutal combat. Pitted as arena fighters for a ramshackled profiteer, they were trained, no, forced to be killers of sport and entertainment. The cage masters did their best to try and strip whatever dignity they could, but the two were too stubborn to let these humans revert them back to baser wildlings. In between travels and contests, the two separately educated themselves with the ever-changing world around them. Out of the traveling zoo, they were the only ones among the brutes and beasts that cared for discussion. Therefore, whenever their cages were paired next to each other, the two did best to converse as much as possible. They taught one another common tongue and their native language, and always tried to outdo each other with grand tales of their ancestors. In those precious few moments they forgot that they were imprisoned, forced to play a part in a world that wanted to see them murder each other for amusement. One late winter night in Bosyfrd changed all of that. The two manbeasts were scheduled to duel in a bordertown in Vendland the following day. Ominous as the hour was, the two continued to talk as they normally did. Perhaps they came to terms with their fate, deciding to make best of what little time they had left. A cage master slammed his cudgel against Tohi's cage, cursing for their silence. Borzgo growled, grabbing the attention of the other cage masters. Their foul breath wreaked of honey wine, and their eyes demanded violence. Cudgels banged both of their cages, then quiet chaos erupted. Stifled groans of men choking on their own blood was dulled by the icy winds. Before they knew it their cages were unlocked. Borzgo and Tohi immediately broke free. The man that stood before them was none other than Brand of the Nightwood, the one they would owe everything to in the years to come. Borzgo and Tohi fled into the night with their liberator. Their upbringing wass no less different than the many orphans Brand raised. Never once did they feel manipulated, or coerced to adopt some cultish lifestyle. How cruel must a world be for a selfless man to be deemed an oddity for wanting to help someone other than himself? Cruel indeed, for its menace would strike even the most noblest of hearts. When word reached them of Brand's death, the two were grief-stricken for not being there in his time of need. In that moment, the world travelers traded in their jollies and unsheathed vengeful hearts, vowing justice for the only man they ever respected - the one they called their father. Brand of the Nightwood would be avenged, so swears the noble tongues of Borzgo and Tohi. Psychological Profile:
Borzgo and Tohi perceive the world as their play place. They are ruled only by their ambition, for kings and lords whom do not share their blood are mere statues of law and nothing more. Borzgo is insightful, mild-mannered and very easy going. He understands his identity, the power behind it, and does all he can to reassure everyone around him that he is not some feral beast. Tohi on the other hand could care less about any man's prejudices. He treads proudly along the enriched path toward success, coveting his friendship with Borzgo while living life without restraint. Though the two have a tendency of exercising their freedoms carelessly, their training, life experiences, and tactfulness keeps them from getting put behind bars, again. For the most part.
Equipment:
  • Caravan: From a distance, its scale may seem normal, but this handcrafted cart is in fact large enough to accomodate space for both Borzgo and Tohi. The double doors are wide enough for Borzgo to enter on his hind legs. The cart itself can collapse or break out into several different pieces, perfect for when the two set up shop at towns or festivals. The smith occupies most of the rear space where Borzgo's personal quarters are located. The mini fish market section is well insulated and can disconnect from the caravan as an eatery. The amount of weight this caravan has can only be pulled by a pair of Mountain Ox.
Borzgo's Personal Equipment:
  • Weapons: Longaxe, Claymore, and Broadsword.
  • Smithing Tools & Various Ores/Metals
  • Kumastafaro Heavy Armor
  • Caravan Repair Tools & Accessories
  • Travel Pack
  • Map & Compass
Tohi's Personal Equipment:
  • Weapons: A Retractable Spear, an Elder Truth Shield, an Elder Truth Mace, Small Daggers (usually kept inside his shell), and a Crossbow.
  • Traveler's Journal: Full compendium of Borzgo and Tohi's adventures. Included are lists of acquaintances, friends, and enemies.
  • Fishing Equipment
  • Traveling Pack
  • Cooking Utensils/Ingredients/Recipes
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Name:Mozan of the Nightwood, formerly Zeldryn Zyrathian the 4th Age: 24 Gender: Male Species: Human Physical Description:
Mozan is a tall, lean, and handsome gentleman who stands at 6”2 and weighs one hundred and eighty three pounds. His hair is dirty blonde, but predominantly a light brown; though if one pays close enough attention, they will notice the underlying streaks of blonde complimenting the darker hue. Forementioned hair is usually kept short and utilitarian; short on the sides and back, and a bit longer on the top of his head leading down to short bangs framing the top of his forehead. He’s often clean shaven, and his eyes are a deep and rich emerald with brighter shaded spots of green encircling his pupils. When he walks by, he carries himself with authority with a wisp of a grin on his face and a twinkle in his eye, as if he knows a secret but just won’t tell.
Considering the fact that he is a ranger and rogue by profession, he looks a bit wirey and skinny. However, he is in peak physical condition and is rippling with clearly defined muscle. A plethora of small knicks and scratches have left him with small marks along his forearms and legs, but he has a few scars which are clearly distinguished against his light-colored flesh. One is a two inch diagonal line resting along the right side of his upper abdomen; a result of being stabbed in a drunken brawl in a tavern. Another is in the shape of large claw marks running down the right side of his back; a wound earned while attempting to stalk a group of grey wolves unsuccessfully in his youth. The last is a bumpy and ugly looking circle on the outside of his left forearm, where he was struck by a crossbow bolt.
[ Skillset:
Under the close guidance of Brand of the Nightwood, Mozan learned how to blend in with his environment, track his prey, and push his body to it’s maximum. He is a skilled hunter and fisherman, and can use his knowledge and training as a ranger to locate and utilize different species of medicinal plantlife to assist in first-aid in the event of the unforeseen. He is a gifted swordsman, often times preferring the bastard sword or dual wielding shortswords, and he holds particular talent with the kukri and dagger as well. Mozan has always held a natural athletic ability, and was always one of the more agile of his family as Brand raised them. He spent day and night honing his reflexes and reaction time, and as a result of this, his body is as quick as his mind and he can make split-second decisions in order to find the perfect opportunity to strike. In regards to ranged combat, Mozan is competent with the longbow, though he often only uses it to hunt. He holds particular talent with the light crossbow and hand crossbow, and will often find himself using these weapons when he is unable to close the gap.
[indent] Those who know Mozan know that he is never one to avoid conversation. He knows a plethora of history, stories of myth and legend, as well as a bit of scattered information about the nobility in most of the area surrounding the Nightwood. He is more diplomatic than not, and is an extremely skilled information gatherer; especially when his curiosity is motivating him to dig deeper. He is an experienced “dungeon-diver” and has an avid interest in treasure hunting, and as a result he is a particular habit of digging up old books which house valuable information on rare trinkets and the like. Mozan’s most prized of skills, however, are those which he affectionately refers to as his, “tools of the trade”. After training under Brand and Salazar, Mozan has perfected his ability to disguise himself, forge different styles of handwriting, assemble and dismantle traps, has extremely nimble fingers, can pick locks, tie intricate knots, and move extremely silently. His balance is superb, and he is as comfortable falling through the air as he is on the ground. His eyes and ears are sharp, and he is talented in regards to ambush tactics and avoiding detection. [indent] In summary, Mozan is a gifted swordsman, athletic and acrobatic, is skilled at tracking and stealth, breaking and entering, assembling and dismantling traps, gathering information and acts of diplomacy, as well as first-aid and survival as a result of his mixed training with miscellaneous veterans. He excels in single combat, but faces a challenge in groups. He isn’t much of a ranged combatant, but can surely hold his own if the situation calls for it. All in all, he is what one would expect of a rogue-ranger. History:
Twenty years ago, there once stood a town to the southeast of the Nightwood known as Silverstar. It was a small town with a population consisting mostly of dwarves and humans which was founded on the western bank of the river Thyst; a small body of water which empties into a lake after a day’s march to the southwest. Silverstar was initially settled as a result of the rich content of silver ore which was mined by the local clan of dwarves, and evolved from a small mining outpost into a sprawling village within a matter of weeks. Eventually, the silver ran dry and most of the dwarves packed their belongings and left, though some stayed behind and began to live a quiet life amongst the groups of humans which had begun to settle in Silverstar. The house Zyrathian was the preeminent family among the humans which chose to reside there, and Zeldryn Zyrathian the first went on to form a pact with the dwarves and organize a formal charter for Silverstar to be recognized as a part of Bosfyrd.
Silverstar was a quiet town. The nobility was well respected and ruled with dignity and an even hand, and the denizens of the village were happy. Two generations of the Zyrathian family were born and died peacefully within it’s borders. This peace and tranquility came to a decisive and bloody conclusion five years after Zeldryn Zyrathian the fourth was born. His father, Zeldryn the third chose to take part in the revolt against Herald by mobilizing Silverstar’s militia and leading tactical guerilla strikes against Herald’s troops. Most of those strikes were strategic victories which brought shame to Herald, and pride to the house Zyrathian. As a result, Herald eventually chose to march on the seat of Zeldryn’s power and burn it to the ground. The militia fought valiantly, but it was a hopeless effort. Before the final battle was fought, Zeldryn Zyrathian the third called upon his old friend Brand of the Nightwood for one last favor. Brand infiltrated the battlefield, retrieved the heir to house Zyrathian alongside it’s most prized possession, and quietly escaped into the Nightwood with Zeldryn the fourth in toe. Shortly after their escape, the Silverstar militia was surrounded, executed, and the peaceful little town was burned to the ground.
Zeldryn the fourth was by no means an ignorant child. Being the eldest child of house Zyrathian, he was being groomed for leadership from the very moment he could walk, talk, and be educated. The first five years of his life were spent playing with the other children, learning about his lineage, and being given a general, but extensive nobleman’s education. It was not much as a result of his age, but he was a bright child with a passion for the written word. On the evening of Silverstar’s demise, his mother introduced him to Brand, and instructed him to flee the keep alongside him. Brand was a kindly and gentle man whom comforted Zeldryn’s panic almost immediately, and the seasoned ranger protected him closely throughout their voyage. Zeldryn the fourth spent several weeks alongside Brand, and the man kept a close eye on him alongside his other children. Eventually, word reached Brand of Silverstar’s demise, and in time, he broke the news to the young Zeldryn. The child took the news horribly, as any child would. But he eventually came to realize that his home was with Brand, as well as the other children. On the dawn of his sixth birthday, Brand of the Nightwood dubbed Zeldryn Zyrathian the fourth “Mozan of the Nightwood”and began to train him as a ranger.
Mozan always took his training very seriously. Brand was a skilled educator, but that is not to say he was easy on his children by any means. Mozan’s mornings were early and his training was intense; he worked with the sword day and night, and when the sword wasn’t in his hands the bow was. Brand taught him to track and to hunt and fish, as well as the subtle art of stealth. Mozan was exceptionally gifted in this regard; Brand liked to compare his speed and dexterity to Zeldryn the third, and this always drove Mozan even harder to succeed. . When he wasn’t sparring with his siblings, he was jumping from tree to tree and swinging around on branches, or balancing on a thin branch and attempting to walk to the very edge without breaking it. He developed a strong appreciation for the beauty of nature during this portion of his life, and became exceedingly curious about the world around him. By the time his sixteenth birthday had arrived, Brand gave him his final lesson in swordsmanship before presenting him with the crown jewel of house Zyrathian; the bejewelld bastard sword known as The Vindicator. In awe of his new treasure, Mozan hastily began to admire the blade’s craftsmanship before Brand gave him a last piece of advice.
“Do not besmirch the honor of which this sword will restore.” With that said, Mozan said his goodbyes and began his journey.
Over a period of two years, Mozan wandered throughout the countryside. He took jobs as a ranger to guide common folk through dangerous terrain, as well as escorting caravans and slaying unfriendly beasts for those who could not do so themselves. He met a plethora of good people, and gained a small reputation as a respectable and noble man among the villages he frequented. Eventually, he found himself guarding a caravan en route to the capital when he met a gruff, middle aged man by the name of Salazar Venterus. He was a grimey, unsavory looking fellow with whom Mozan constantly quarreled with from the very beginning of their journey. Through Mozan’s eyes, he was dishonorable, and fought with a coward’s tactics. Eventually, the man became so enraged that he challenged Mozan to a dual; which in his youthful ignorance was rapidly accepted. The caravan came to a halt, and the duo drew their steel with an eager crowd of merchants placing bets on who would come out victorious. Unfortunately, the odds were not in Mozan’s favor. The battle was quick and humiliating. Before Mozan had time to mount a proper counter attack, Salazar had him cornered, disarmed, and seething with shame. He moved to draw another weapon, but the next thing that became rapidly apparent to the young ranger was that his vision was hazy, a throbbing pain reverberated through his skull, and Salazar was standing above him with an arrogant sneer plastered upon his grizzly visage.
Mozan was humiliated, but he apologized to the rogue Salazar for his brashness and rudeness after overcoming the worst of his shame. In return, the veteran warrior offered his abilities as a master to Mozan, and the duo began to travel together. In comparison to Brand of the Nightwood’s form of education, Salazar’s was a living hell. His days began before the sun lit the sky, and came to an end far after it had set below the horizon. They were filled with rigorous physical exercise to build speed, stamina, and perfect his balance, as well as brutal hand-to-hand combat training and swordsmanship drills with blunted blades. When he wasn’t strengthening his body, he was molding his mind. Salazar assembled and destroyed a large variety of traps before his eager gaze, then tested him in their construction and identifying characteristics. They eventually moved on to training Mozan’s body into moving more silently and smoothely, as well as the finer arts of lockpicking, safecracking, and breaking and entering. After six months of harsh training and lengthy travel around the major metropolitan areas surrounding the Nightwood, Salazar had nothing left for Mozan to learn. Rather than part ways, Mozan began to work alongside his master, taking odd-jobs for those who had the coin to offer. Jobs ranged from stealing the signit ring of a particularly corrupt nobleman to stalking groups of bandits and mapping their travel for local law enforcement. They kept up this pattern over the next two and a half years, counting their coins and doing the best which they could for those without the power to do so themselves. Like most good times, this period in Mozan’s life came to a decisive and bloody conclusion without preamble.
Salazar eventually led Mozan to the high city of Apaxya; a sprawling metropolis located in the mountain range to the Northeast of The Nightwood. The high walls of the snowy city were filled to the brim with Herald’s men, and little did they realize, an intricate web of informants and rogues were planning the heist to end all heists. Mozan came to discover a guild of thieves within the walls of Apaxya, and their goal was to steal the lord’s journal and ledger; two documents which were sure to be filled with incriminating information which could fetch quite the ransom from the right buyer. The plan was immaculate, and after several weeks of surveillance and working informants for the right knowledge, the operation was ready to be implemented. Salazar and Mozan infiltrated the lord’s castle carefully and slowly in order to avoid arousing suspicion, but an unexpected variable rapidly made itself apparent. A raging blizzard began to batter the mountain city with it’s icy fists, and the duo was forced to enter the manor through a potentially unsafe passage. They took the risk, and paid the price. As soon as they entered, they were ambushed by the Lord’s personal militia; a highly skilled group of men and women with deadly skills and brutal efficiency. The rogues didn’t leave without a fight; they bloodied their noses and broke their knees, but in the end the operation was forced to be declared unsuccessful after they fled for their lives. Days later, the Thieves’ Guild was frantically trying to cover their tracks, only to discover that there was a mole among their ranks. Mozan entered one of their safehouses within the city a tenday after the failed heist; only to discover that the officers in which he was supposed to meet were ruthlessly slaughtered, and Salazar was standing over their corpses with a blade sheathed in crimson. He confessed to his apprentice that it was he who was feeding the militia information on the Guild’s efforts, and when confronted about the lack of honor in that decision, he simply responded to Mozan that they were the group which offered him the most coin. Enraged and filled with despair at the revelation and the loss of his comrades, Mozan drew Vindicator with a roar and engaged his master in pitch combat. Both men landed blow after blow, but in the end it was the student who became the master. The last thing the ranger can remember of Apaxya before his expedient departure was the way Salazar wore his grin, even in death.
The next three years were mostly spent wandering amongst the lands, sampling different alcohols, exchanging stories with strangers, and tracking down different pieces of literature which Mozan wished to research. He ventured from the mountains in the north down into the deserts of the south and everywhere in between. It was in this period of time when Mozan became extremely interested in hunting for treasure, and began to explore long-abandoned ruins in search of clues pointing him toward a new discovery. He never found anything that was extremely noteworthy; a few dated dwarven tools here, an antique chest or piece of furniture there, but he always enjoyed himself and expanded his knowledge from that which it was before his journey began. It was on a journey from the south toward the remains of Silverstar where the news of Brand’s death reached Mozan. He quickly abandoned all plans of exploring his home, and made haste back toward the Nightwood to discover what became of his step-father. Upon learning the cause of his death, Mozan swore that Herald’s reign of terror was to come to an end. By his own hands.
Psychological Profile:
(I had a bit of trouble with this part. Though I feel his personality can be interpreted from this, as well as the explanations I’ve given throughout the CS.)
On first impression, Mozan appears as though he’s an arrogant and condescending man with no patience for foolishness. Though as one gets to know him better, it becomes readily apparent that it is simply difficult to tell when he is being serious in comparison to when he is being sarcastic. He has a strong appreciation for history and literature, and as a result he tends to speak with a more elevated vocabulary in a more lofty way. He is what one would wish to have in a travelling companion; he’s talkative, always has an interesting story to tell, and generally very jovial and friendly. He’s intelligent, rather modest, and usually playful with those he calls friend. As a result of his upbringing under Brand of the Nightwood, Mozan has always been a gentle and kind soul. He will not hesitate to help those who are in need, and his motivation and drive tend to inspire those who walk alongside him. That being said, Mozan has a darker side as well. His birthright, his home, his nobility.. All were ripped away from him without warning for what Mozan perceives as an unjust reason. His soul burns with the fire of the vengeance he wishes to inflict upon his enemies, and he will stop at nothing to accomplish his goals. No man, woman, or child can stop him, be them friend, foe, or family. He’s a thief, but he has honor; he only steals from those who will not miss what is taken, and can provide for themselves. Furthermore, he does not steal for selfish reasons, such as wealth or an edge over his competitors.
All in all, Mozan is a kind, philanthropic noble who holds his friends close to his heart, and will not hesitate to slaughter his enemies and achieve his goals.
Equipment
-Vindicator: The bejeweled Bastard Sword of the Zyrathian family. It’s of masterwork quality, made of dwarven steel and encrusted with a variety of jewells, as well as an elegant engraving.
-Two steel Shortswords, well maintained and well used
-Salazar’s Kukri, dubbed “Ivy” as a result of the vine-like engraving upon the blade.
-A light crossbow made of mahogany, accompanied by 15 bolts
-A dagger strapped to each boot, because you never know what to expect
-Lightly used Studded Leather armor, well maintained and ready for combat in an instant
-Clothing/Cloak, four different outfits neatly rolled up and arranged by quality and color
-Handmade leather adventuring bag, made with the assistance of Brand in his childhood
-50 ft. roll of hempen rope
-Flint and steal
-masterwork thieve’s tools, plus scattered picking equipment hidden in miscellaneous pouches in his leathers for emergencies.
-pouches and belts for additional storage
-A ring inscribed with the crest of House Zyrathian
-A small roll of different colors of make-up for disguise purposes
-A handheld mirror
-A bundle of maps, fastened together with a piece of leather
-Waterskin
-coil of 50 ft. of thin wire used for creating traps.
-Leather Garrote
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Countess Adelaide Seraess The Toxic Mistress, Drinker of Poison Human Female 28 Years of age Adelaide is by far not a tall woman her standing height barely reaches 5'4, her frame borders between curvy and petite. Letting the natural radiance fill once eyes to behold soft pale skin an obvious result of lacking the suns brilliance, those that have the pleasure of formally meeting the woman can attested to the silk like touch but forgot the touch by peering into emerald eyes. Gleaming in light as if they were truly gems waiting to be plucked, displaying in them both beauty hinted with a dash of malevolence. All is not in beauty, upon her left cheek is the faint appearance of a scar. Hid with copious amounts of powder along with luscious puffed crimson lips, however as much as Adelaide might try its a trace reminder of a past well hidden from the world. Countering the physical deformity on her face with clothes in which revealing would be an understatement, scantily clad is more of the appropriate choice of wording, doing so to enhance her bosoms and overall appeal. Favoring clothing in the deeper colors of red, blue and purple to help accent the dark ash hair trailing down to the bending of the knee. Ser Garmin Carvet Titan, Destroyer of Men Human Male Approx 35 (Exact age is unknown) Garmin is a giant among men in every sense and possible description of the word. Towering over other men as if they were puppets at a staggering 7'10, abnormally tall though his height is the only thing impressive about the man. Inhibited by the naked eye reveals a sculpted figure devoid of hair, the muscle though are another sight entirely as in its brilliance is stacked as granite. Unbreakable and unrelenting, though scars also protrude from the giant among men. Garmin's entire upper torso is littered with marks of past battles. Devoid of any facial hair, both his scalp and rugged face are clean shaven daily. Many claim he is a soulless creature as protruding gray eyes send chills down the most stout of people, if they can raise their heads to meet him in a gaze. Formal in Garmin mind is simple leathers with overlapping chain mail as guarding the countess seems to be his only priority. Skillset Adelaide while being a noble woman is without some skill in combat though widely detests in getting her own hands dirty. In her youth to the current circumstances remains a notable archer, unable to compare to that of the rangers but claims to be just as good if not better. It might be a blowing of smoke but nothing is taken lightly coming from this woman. This is of course if the time calls for it. If what they say about poison being a woman's weapon is true then, she considers herself a master in its use. Masking odors, delivery of the toxin and creation of possible new varieties. Seduction another one of her weapons, marketing herself to wills of men. Antagonizing, luring, coaxing them into her wants needs by simple kisses and promise of desires of the skin to thoughts of a more beastly carnal desires or simple wants of the coin. Speaking of the coins it seems to flow from her, able to squeeze two coins hard enough to birth out a third. How she does it simple, Adelaide cannot suckle the coin threw her own whiles if that doesn't work Garmin is sent. Most prefer the former. In the darkest recesses of her soul lay the worst part, a torturer. By hot brands, the rack, slow imprisonment in an iron maiden or other the vast host of other tools at her disposal no secret is safe from her. She has some skill with weapons, enough to protect herself but relies on Garmin. Garmmin is the apex warrior or as most would lay claim to. While taking a disliking to ranged weaponry, preferring to meet them up close and personal. Wielding a variety of melee weapons, but disdaining the use of pole-arms and spears but will use them if necessary. Favoring the combination of a bastard sword with a tower shield combination, having the strength to use the two handed blade with one hand giving him an increased reach of his swing. While unnatural and freakishly strong the extent of this titan's strength is undefined and hasn't put to a true test. Some claim he can pull apart a portcullis and have seen it, while others claim he can cleave a bear thick with fat in a single stroke. Again its rumors of the folk but regardless of Garmin's strength no one wants to be in the receiving end of any blow. For a man of stature he's surprisingly maneuverable. While not entirely a skill set but while clad in his heavy armor Garmin has the look of bloodied steel demon, one mention by Adelaide that a man to duel him once soiled himself before being cleaved in two. History Adelaide in her youth was the daughter of a minor retainer from across the northern seas, in fact the only child since her birth was the death of her mother. A notion her father wouldn't relent on that she killed the only love in his life, making sure to demean her about the incident without relent. Being feed dosages of a hate and false hopes, along with the occasional beatings to remind the girl she was only a means to an end to elevate his status. "A near useless piece of meat", as could be seen in Adelaide's memoirs in regards to her father. Silently suffering the maliciousness of her father, though would take to the bow at night. Filling the straw dummies heads with arrows, imagining that they were her fathers face, nothing was more satisfying than being able to see the man die. The vow made, she was going to kill him and when it would happen she prolong the pain to the point where inhumane would be child's play Blossoming into a young woman, shining with regal beauty much as her mother did before her but something her father hated. Reminding him even more of his lost wife. In a sporadic fit of rage Adelaide was forced onto the great hall's table by the guards of her father while the man proceeded to cut her cheek. Down threw the flesh as it cut her nearly to the bone of her teeth and if she wasn't to been wedded soon he'd let the guards rape her to death. Making the latter part very obvious but he needed her unspoiled as he'd struck a deal with the son of a count, in exchange for wealth and more holdings he'd supply the man with a wife. The rest of night was nothing but pain and retching her stomach contents with vile thoughts of being sold like goat to a man used as his personal play thing. Though patience prevailed over action. After this wedding she'd exact vengeance for the years of sadistic hate and torture, but as of that moment she must play the dutiful daughter and charming wife to an upcoming counts son. Her eye couldn't of played tricks on her upon meeting her match, the young man was beyond gallant, the epitomy of male masculinity and sex appeal. The fact he was docile in his affections towards her didn't matter, he was perfect or so she had thought. One thing made her question the man though, is she saw the very look in her match's eyes that Adelaide knew that she had. It was trading evil for evil, being young and naive she accepted not knowing how much worse it was going to get or sickeningly better pending on your point of view. The scarring over cheek though was questioned, the count arranging the marriage demanded to know how in was inflected. A lie. Smiling to the man she simply side while on a ride her horse had spooked a rock slicing threw her cheek, thankful it had down that instead of her head hitting. Playing it for a false and had gotten away with rouse without getting to much suspicion drawn, also Managing to persuade the the father and son to hasten the marriage to the fortnight to get out of her own fathers grasps. All seemed well or at least on the outside as the people beloved the freshly married couple. The mans son couldn't rise to consummate the deed, wether it was him being too docile or couldn't get it rise because of her scaring. Adelaide wanted to believe it was the later. Though as a years passed it she still remained pure but her husbands father had passed under strange circumstances, the small folk knew it and Adelaide knew it also. She knew that her father in law was killed by poison though what type remained a mystery. The look in her husbands eye grew eerie and as he did so did his company along with screams from dungeons. Curiosity drove the woman as a familiar voice was heard in the screams. Trailing down looking at the backside of her husband and gargantuan of a man, when they turned to see her, Adelaide seen that her father was on the table. Anger coursed seeing her father being tortured and she wasn't the one doing it. Screaming trying to get to her bastard father. Being hold back with the giants one man, but her husband looking down at the table. Waving the titan and handing her the knife. Making good on her promise that she make her father suffer. The feeling and sensations she had gotten from the moment was... erotic as odd as it sounded and in that moment their marriage was actually cemented. Also in that night she was introduced the titan known as Garmin the Titan, Reaper of Men. Over the next several years under their rule the peasantry grew fearful to fall either under the counts knife, the countess cup or the titans blade. Testing the concoction of poisons and their antidotes, even testing the antidotes on herself at times. Garmin grew fond of Adelaide, why exactly known only between the two of them but the most widely spread rumor is that she remind him of a sister lost to death. Regardless of what it was, the two bonded more than what silver and gold could buy. Buying silks in the market one fateful day she overheard the planning of a rebellion, in seeing her the mob drove to frenzy. Garmin cleaving three men in two as Adelaide would tell it giving them time to escape to the estate. Knowing that they'd be driven and killed from there home she had a handful of servants gather her belongings escaping threw an underground route. Escaping threw the exit seeing a mob storming her former home and quartering of her husband. All was gone, fleeing to the docks and across the sea to the lands held by King Harold. Landing in on the Kings shore a month before this rebellion sparked, talking her way into the kings court as a guest. If it was Harold being a king or his chivalry seeing a noble loosing her holdings or whatever the circumstance it didn't matter she managed to maneuver her way to a state of relative safety within his walls. She did try to charm the king to no avail, though liking the woman for unique knowledge into poisons some of which he had never heard of. Seeing the rebellion spark, in return for his hospitality Adelaide offered the services of her protector Garmin. Garmin a likes most of the people of the content hadn't seen. Serving in Harold's vanguard, though despite his defeats Garmin made the barons pay. Extinguishing several barons bloodlines root and stem. Spreading his terror in Harold's name and when the king had to make concessions was among the guards at the negotiations. Garmin's blade was one of the tools Harold used to spread his tyranny. According to the peasants he was among Brands executioners or at least foresaw the mans death. Garmin's return marked a new rise for the countess, negotiating with Harold. As with Garmin being the kings right hand, Adelaide insisted that she be his left to cull the rest of the infidels in Brand's and William's circles. An intriguing offer from a devious woman, see a it as a double edge sword but one that would fall on her if something proved fatal. Allowing her and the titan to take William's estate and lands. Hiring a mercenary a company the Lost Sons from her homeland as protectors and new house guard. With their fearsome reputation in a land torn by war it would help deter any insolence. Putting the old guard of Williams to the torch for their part against Harold. Psychological Profile Adelaide grew into utter cruelty early in life but wasn't feed until her late husband's initiation in to torture. A sadistic narcissistic woman who's sole purposes are few and feed into her own delight. While vain she isn't without a sense of loyalty to her protector, the only one person she had shown any sort of remorse or innocence to. Anything else is up to the whims of the moment. Having no problem sacrificing almost anyone as a means to an end. Seeing the world as her personal plaything and nothing more, enjoying the comforts that it has to the fullest effect as if it were to be her last. Religion play's no part in sort of standing in her life, believing if there are any gods that they're vicious cunts and have no worth in her life or prayers but does allow them under her dominion. Being cruel is one thing but does allow a sort of hope to those she intends to inflict dire pain. Survival is top priority, willing to do anything to keep going. Though if its hard to swallow she will make sure those to put her in despair to return the favor ten time over. Garmin is a stoic man. One could render the flesh from his bones and not hear so much as moan of pain of suffering. Normally a quiet man despite is size, usually keeping his mind focused at the task at hand. Obedient as a loyal dog to no question, even if it were to put an entire village to the torch and kill its inhabitants. Its in combat that any visible emotion is split. Revealing in war and carnage. On occasion he goes into a blood lust that rivals a orc berserker, many claim its madness that have seen it but it makes Garmin more fearsome that just his armor and impressive size. Largely an insomniac but when he does sleep, everyone hears the pain and tortures from his past that he even hasn't spilt to Adelaide. When duty doesn't call, the drink does. While he is an alcoholic it takes entire barrels to get him drunk, drinking far more than what any normal man could safely drink. Equipment Adelaide Alchemist set Several vials of varying poisons hidden among her clothes Yew recurve bow Several quivers (each head holding a varying poison Several chests containing whats left of her wealth, clothes, and other belongings (Obviously not carried with her) Silver Edged Daggers hidden in her sleeves Garmin
Black steel bastard sword Iron tower shield lined with spikes down the middle Ring mail Shaving razor
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