Hidden 9 yrs ago Post by The Elvenqueen
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The Elvenqueen An Elven Jedi

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Hidden 9 yrs ago Post by Frengo
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Frengo King of the Frengolians

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Prince Thranok Broadrock of Blackmoor Hold


Physical Description: Thranok is nearly as wide as he is tall; a mountainous mass of fat and muscle. Standing at four and a half feet, and smothered in copious amounts of gleaming mails, he looks like your ordinary perception of a Dwarf warrior. Shoulder length blonde hair, and a well kept neck length beard surround what looks to be an almost permanent scorn.

Race: Dwarf

Gender: Male

Age: 163

Class: Fighter

Equipment:
  • Double headed bronze battle axe
  • Bronze Short Sword
  • Tower Shield (Hooked over his backpack)
  • Backpack, containing generic travelling goods (food + water etc)


Bio: Thranok, son of Mountain Lord Thranix Broadrock of Blackmoor Hold, and sixth in line to the Gemstone Throne. Sounds a mighty title, doesn't it?

Alas, being sixth in line to the throne, and possessing five older brothers, means that it is unlikely that Thranok will ever achieve much greatness beyond performing his duties as a royal dignitary. Not that it would be a hard life mind, and one could certainly do worse - but for some of us, a cushioned and sheltered life free of strife and struggle is a life not worth living. Thranok is of such mind, and that's why he has formally resigned his post - against his father's wishes - and set forth into the world with nothing but his axe and a few decades of combat training to his name.

He's a hardy warrior in theory, who has proven himself on the training grounds, but who has not fought that many real enemies. A few goblins met their demise at the wrong end of his axe, that's a given, but beyond this? No. Thranok is a mighty hero in the making, not a mighty hero stalking the world. His future may bring greatness and glory, or it may be a rather short lived tale of misguided ambition and undeserved arrogance.

Time will tell.

Personality: Thranok is an arrogant, overly confident warrior full of boasts. His tales are long and usually untrue, but he is always prepared to back up his bravado with real action. He's the brave amateur that all began as, and the keen idealist that no one ends up as. For Thranok, honour is everything - for now at least.
Hidden 9 yrs ago Post by abloomingflower
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abloomingflower

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Name: Taluin Filvendor

Gender: Male

Age: 270s

Class: Rogue

Race: Elf

Physical Description:
Tal's build and body are quite the norm for his race; he is tall and lithe with angular features. Dark brown hair falls to his shoulders in loose locks, and honey colored eyes poke out from underneath his bangs. Alabastor skin covers his toned body, marred only by the occasional scar, such as the one that reaches from his right chin to cheek. He dresses in either his armor or simple clothing, and is almost always carrying his weapons and pack.

Equipment:
-Leather armor
-Simple Longsword w/ Sheathe
-Dirk w/ Sheathe (pictured in appearance reference)

Personality:
A stern individual, Tal is not known for his warmth or compassion. He is a very reserved man, as having spent much of his time both for hire and on the road has prevented him from forming really long lasting connections. Intelligent, discerning, and prescriptive, Tal is adept at reading a situation and acting accordingly. Generally, he is mild mannered and cautious, but he is approachable, as those traits don't make him less inclined to pleasant conversation than others.

Bio:
Taluin's early memories are of an orphanage deep inside the City of Spires, Dary. Tal was a curious child who often went exploring outside. Eventually, after many attempts to bring him in and keep him failed, the orphanage staff soon gave up on keeping him inside. He grew up in the orphanage but he never lived there for more than a few days at a time after he reached a certain age. He did jobs around the city for different cartels and guilds, giving himself a reputation as a promising youth. He had never lived in an easy place; the orphanage and the city streets both held their own horrors, and Tal learned the harsh truths of vagrant life at an early age.

During his childhood, there was one guild above all others in the city: The Rothen Guild. Named after its brutal, legendary founder of ages ago, the Rothen Guild boasted a force superior in finesse, ability, and honor to many other major factions. In a city near to two large castles known to belong to forces of vampire masters, such a claim was often tested. The guild had a reputation of being above petty murder, and only took on jobs that came from exceptional clients or the city itself. Taluin aspired to be one of the infamous Rothen Riders ever since he had known who they were. He got his chance around the age of 14, when, after he had done a few small things for one of the senior members of the guild, he was offered a chance to join them on a mission they believed he could assist them with. When they were successful, he was offered a place among them.

However, he one of many young minds they took in at that age. After making him believe it was what he wanted, they put him through vigorous training and discipline. He grew reliant on the guild, believing their story of how they were all a giant family who looked out for each other, and like most did not see where this indoctrination was heading. After decades as a member of the guild, he and others discovered the plots of the heads of the guild. The Rothen Guild had once been what it claimed, but had, before Tal had become an apprentice, been infested with the undead servants of the vampire queen from the east. They were slowly working to spread the disease in the guild's ranks to unleash it on the city.

In a blaze of passionate speeches, angry battles, and turning alliances, the Rothen Guild was destroyed in a battle between its last sane members and those already turned against them. Citizens of Dary believe that the guild fell to politics when a new leader came to the head of the faction, but in reality the loss of members was so great that after the whole fiasco was over those who remained just called it quits. Tal, among them, eventually moved on from the city he had called home for more than 50 years, and left to pursue his own life. He has spent his time wander thus far, seeing places he had never visited before.
Hidden 9 yrs ago Post by corbosiny
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corbosiny Jack of All Trades / Bard in Training

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Hidden 9 yrs ago Post by Metronome
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Metronome Tick Box

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Name: Rowan Blackhoof of Nowhere in Particular
Age: 25
Gender: Male
pecies: Satyr
Classes: Bard

Equipment: Possesses an enchanted pan flute. When played, all who listen are at ease. If played close enough, it can lull a person to sleep.

He carries a bow and arrow with him for safety. While he rarely uses it for violence, he practices with it quite often.


Personality:
Rowan is a gentle creature, as far as satyrs go. His species is known for being trickers and theives, attacking those who travel through their forests and kidnapping young women from villages for their own brutish sport. Of course, in actuality, it's a fairly small part of the population that do these things, but they give the whole species a bad name.

He's peaceful, not caring too much for the wars that pop up between other species. You'd have to twist his arm to get him to give a rat's ass about politics. Rowan would rather spend the day roaming the forest, picking on the occasional traveler, eating berries, and flirting with the wood nymphs.


Other:
Rowan is a vegetarian.

Although he has more human traits than goat, sometimes Rowan will be plagued by the urge to just mindlessly chew on something. Since bubblegum probably doesn't exist in this world, he's found all sorts of creative solutions: sticks, blocks of wood, rubber, or really just about anything.

He quite talented at playing the pan flute.

He enjoys visitors, as long as they come peacefully.

He is a very good climber. His balance is impeccable.

Although not quite as promiscuous as most satyrs are known to be, Rowan isn't likely to turn down a good offer.


Appearance:
Rowan is a full blooded satyr. His human half has olive skin and curly, reddish brown hair. He has a bit more hair than your typical man, his arms sporting shaggy, almost furlike growth near his elbows. His form is muscular, particularly his arms.
He was cursed with a boyish face, which he hides under a trimmed beard and mustache. His goofy, floppy goat ears don't help. He's rather big, standing at nearly 6'1". The horns on his head curl backwards and are very strong.

His goat half is that of a tahr, with long, brown fur and smaller hooves. He's very nimble on his feet, faster than a human, and able to climb and balance uncannily well. As for clothing, Rowan often goes without. With his bottom half so heavily furred, he doesn't really have anything to hide. If he's attending a more proper occasion, he has a couple tunics to pick from in various colors.


History:
When Rowan was a young kid, he lived with his clan in the forests outside of a human village. The two communities lived in tense harmony, not fighting but not particularly enjoying the company. Rowan was always told to keep away from the human village, but curiosity drew him to it. When he was a teenager, he finally crossed the line and ventured into the humans' civilization to see just what they were all about.

When his clan found out, they weren't happy. When Rowan refused their orders to cease and desist, they banished him from their midst. He tried to tell himself that he was better off without them, and moved on. The satyr began his travels, all across the lands. He was taught many different skills from all sorts of creatures: music with elves, baking with dwarfs, drinking with orcs, and, most importantly, archery with centaurs.

In recent years, Rowan has settled down a bit. He's getting to the point in his life were he wants stability. He's spent the last year or so building himself an impressive treehouse home, with gardens of fruit and vegetables to suitable itself. Since he doesn't eat meat, he never has to worry about hunting. Although, he will occasionally brave the city to purchase goods, with his bow and arrow to protect himself.

Hidden 9 yrs ago 9 yrs ago Post by Karos
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Karos The Erudite Englishman

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Name: Mzark Fireheart
Race: Dragonborn
Gender: Male
Age: 7
Class: Paladin
Equipment:
Mithril: Longsword, Shield, and battle plate
Simple Rations (typically bread and some fish, and a flask full of fire whiskey)
A flask of water
Symbol of Bahamut

Bio: Mzark may seem young by human standards but whilst only 7 years old he's already as developed and astute as a human 20 year old. As a boy his parents forced him to study hard, joining the local shrine of Bahamut as an inmate when he was 3. He has studied and learnt much at the shrine, but he is no idle priest, he learnt to wield a blade and was the shrines protector alongside his master. At least until he was sent at the age of 5 on a pilgrimage to search for an ancient lexicon removed from the shrine long ago.

Since that time Mzark has wondered the world, for 2 years he has travelled the world and he is still no closer to his prize. In this time he has learnt much of the world beyond his village, and he has earned himself a fair number of friends and a great deal of gratitude in this time. However, he has also made himself a few enemies in the process.

Personality: Mzark is extremely pious and extremely honourable, Dragonborn and Paladins are this way by nature, one need only think what a combination of the two is like. Loyal, honest, ernest and protective, Mzark is usually quite upfront in his dealings with others.

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