I N S T R U C T I O N S:
- Using the provided template, please create a character sheet
- All other posts to the OOC tab.
- Please first post your CSs to the OOC, only Character sheets that have been accepted by me shall go here.
Application
Name Goes Here
"A fancy quote"
| NICKNAME |
Some people have nicknames, some don't.
| AGE |
5-100 or whatever suits your fancy
| PHYSICAL APPEARANCE |
Give us a paragraph or two of what your character looks like, how they dress et cetra. Give us a good picture of what they look like, the more detail the better. A picture can be used to supplement the description but the description should be able to stand on its own without the picture if you catch my gist.
| PSYCHOLOGICAL ANALYSIS |
What makes them tick? What irks them, who are they? Basically the personality but a little bit more than that.
| BACKGROUND INFORMATION |
Either a couple of paragraphs or a whole analytical essay. Remember quality over quantity. Kiddos.
| CHARACTER MOTIVATION |
Everybody has a goal from getting the girl, to getting vengeance, to saving the day. What motivates your character?
| SKILLS |
Everybody is good at something and it is those skills that may just mean life and death on the long road ahead
| EQUIPMENT |
What do they carry on their persons?
| OTHER |
If anything else suits your fancy
[center][h1]Name Goes Here[/h1][/center]
[center][sub][i]"A fancy quote"[/i][/sub][/center]
[b]| NICKNAME |[/b]
[color=gray][indent] Some people have nicknames, some don't.[/indent][/color]
[b]| AGE |[/b]
[color=gray][indent]5-100 or whatever suits your fancy[/indent][/color]
[b]| PHYSICAL APPEARANCE |[/b]
[color=gray][indent]Give us a paragraph or two of what your character looks like, how they dress et cetra. Give us a good picture of what they look like, the more detail the better. A picture can be used to supplement the description but the description should be able to stand on its own without the picture if you catch my gist.[/indent][/color]
[b]| PSYCHOLOGICAL ANALYSIS |[/b]
[color=gray][indent]What makes them tick? What irks them, who are they? Basically the personality but a little bit more than that.
[/indent][/color]
[b]| BACKGROUND INFORMATION |[/b]
[color=gray][indent]
Either a couple of paragraphs or a whole analytical essay. Remember quality over quantity. Kiddos.
[/indent][/color]
[b]| CHARACTER MOTIVATION | [/b]
[color=gray][indent]Everybody has a goal from getting the girl, to getting vengeance, to saving the day. What motivates your character?[/indent][/color]
[b]| SKILLS |[/b]
[color=gray][indent]Everybody is good at something and it is those skills that may just mean life and death on the long road ahead[/indent][/color]
[b]| EQUIPMENT |[/b]
[color=gray][indent]What do they carry on their persons? [/indent][/color]
[B]| OTHER |[/B]
[COLOR=gray][indent]If anything else suits your fancy[/indent][/color]
GM Character Sheets
Barric
"With death it's not a matter of if but more of a matter of when."
| NICKNAME |
Barric The Spear
| AGE |
40
| PHYSICAL APPEARANCE |
From first glances the thing that becomes apparent almost immediately is that Barric is no northerner by blood at least. From his auburn now splattered with clumps and streaks of grey to his aquiline nose and jagged jawline hidden beneath a rough beard, he very strongly carries the blood of the south in his veins. Despite this the man carries the same rough sense of purpose in his gait and way of carrying himself that is distinctively northern in its appearance. His build is lean and spryly in its appearance lean and built for endurance rather than the explosive strength of most northern warriors. This combined with the fact that he is naturally shorter than his northern brothers making him seem like a twig among towering tree trunks. Deep set into his angular face are a pair of light brown eyes that once seemed to twinkle with a sort of mischievousness to them but theses days just seem tired and worn out by the constant pressures of trying to just survive another day.
Barric dresses in what most would considered normal for his environment draped in a combination of heavy furs and tanned leather with a large cloak of dark fur atop it all. He still wears his whalers boots wherever he goes the thick hide perfect for keeping the snow out and the heat in rising about to just below his knee in length. The clothing is designed for function not appearance and that function is to weather the cold. The layers themselves provided some protection from weapons as they must force their way through them to get to naked flesh but a axe in a well used hand could easily cut through it without much of a care in the world. The furs themselves always seem to carry the particular odor of thick wood smoke upon them so much to the fact that some suspect that the smell is not trapped in the furs but in Barric himself.
Barric dresses in what most would considered normal for his environment draped in a combination of heavy furs and tanned leather with a large cloak of dark fur atop it all. He still wears his whalers boots wherever he goes the thick hide perfect for keeping the snow out and the heat in rising about to just below his knee in length. The clothing is designed for function not appearance and that function is to weather the cold. The layers themselves provided some protection from weapons as they must force their way through them to get to naked flesh but a axe in a well used hand could easily cut through it without much of a care in the world. The furs themselves always seem to carry the particular odor of thick wood smoke upon them so much to the fact that some suspect that the smell is not trapped in the furs but in Barric himself.
| PSYCHOLOGICAL ANALYSIS |
Once Barric would of said that his only dream was to see the world, to experience everything life had to offer and maybe sleep with a few lovely ladies. Yet that time had long since past and priorities seemed to have tampered with age. Now he could care less about the world, hell he could care less about himself now his only concern was for his children. When they born all those years ago, Barric didn't want them, he found the idea of children utterly repulsing but he stayed anyway, he stayed because it was the right thing to do. Yet slowly he found himself caring for two little rather stupid blobs that he would call daughter and son. He watched them grow, he watched them learn to walk and he taught them important things like how to fish and how to make a spear. Then his wife died in the first few months of the endless winter leaving him alone with them in the world. By that point they were almost adults by most standards and they could look after themselves but he couldn't loose anybody else. Now all he cares about is keeping them alive, is keeping his family together and getting through whatever hell they have been cast into.
Beside his strong devotion to his family Barric is known around Aoalvik as probably one of the most dependable people you'll ever have the pleasure of meeting. When he used to serve on the Jarl's council as the spokesman for the sailors and fisherman he was known to fiercely debate upon issues and stood up for the ideas that he believed in. He was a so called pillar of the community, a natural born leader that made sure that everybody got what they were needed and that problems were solved quickly and with efficiency. And he did it all with a smile on his face. But that was some time ago and the death of his wife changed him much making him more more reclusive than he was, almost always either being found in the tavern drinking by himself or at his home in some sort of deep thought. These days Barric is tired, pushed forward by a steadfast resolve in spite of his own failures and sorrows.
Beside his strong devotion to his family Barric is known around Aoalvik as probably one of the most dependable people you'll ever have the pleasure of meeting. When he used to serve on the Jarl's council as the spokesman for the sailors and fisherman he was known to fiercely debate upon issues and stood up for the ideas that he believed in. He was a so called pillar of the community, a natural born leader that made sure that everybody got what they were needed and that problems were solved quickly and with efficiency. And he did it all with a smile on his face. But that was some time ago and the death of his wife changed him much making him more more reclusive than he was, almost always either being found in the tavern drinking by himself or at his home in some sort of deep thought. These days Barric is tired, pushed forward by a steadfast resolve in spite of his own failures and sorrows.
| BACKGROUND INFORMATION |
Not much is known about Barric's past before he came to Aoalvik, not even his children really know. But from what can be gathered it is believed that Barric grew up in the southern port town of Byrle to an alcoholic mother and an absent father. To escape from his family life at the tender age of ten Barric became a cabin boy on a trade ship and left Byrle swearing to never come back as long as he breathed. For the next several years he jumped from ship to ship traveling the world and learning the ways of a sailor as he earned his keep doing meager tasks like swabbing the deck and peeling potatoes. One faithful day though at the age of twenty one, he found himself on a southern trader heading to the far north to the port city of Aoalvik. Barric did not want to go to the north, he'd traveled their before in his time and he found the people unruly and the climate far too cold for his liking. But the pay was good and he needed the coin, so he went along anyway. He never expected to stay in Aoalvik, he never expected to become used to the cold and the people, he never expected to find the love of his life selling furs in the Aoalvik market with her father.
They never do of course.
He stumbled out of a tavern trying to drink away the cold when he saw Signe. She was the most beautiful girl that Barric had ever had the pleasure of seeing. She stood tall and proud arguing with a merchant about the price of furs. Her long dirty blond hair fell to about her waist and her green eyes were strong and fierce, a deep scar running across the nose of her face. Thus he did not return to his boat which was leaving port that day and began the process of trying to court the girl. At first she was hesitant of Barric, the people of the north did not look kindly to outsiders such as him with his odd accent and strange mannerisms. But if Barric was one thing he was persistent and over the days and weeks she slowly began to warm up to the stranger and warmth became friendship, and friendship became affection and affection as it sometimes does ended up becoming love.
The first few years were tough on Barric even after he married Signe and the twins were born. He found work on on the whaling ships that called Aoalvik its home port, and showed his worth as a sailor, but even so he was still the outsider. He was still the southern that had come into their world, took one of their woman and was pretending to be something more than he wasn't. People often did their most to try and not talk to the man or even look in his direction and if they even had any questions or things for the family they would direct them towards Signe rather than himself. But that would all change the day he earned the title he openly hates Barric The Spear.
It was an early spring day and Barric's ship among the others were already heading out for a days work. But upon the horizon they spotted something, something that struck fear into the hearts of even the strongest men. Three Wylding Raider longboats cresting over the horizon sails unfurled and oars slicing through the water at a breathtaking pace. With their gargantuan size and seemingly unnatural strength they soared through the thawing water heading straight towards the clusters of ships. Panic arose among the crews as they tried to turn around to return to the safety of Aoalvik. But it was no northern man that answered the call of courage that day, it was Barric the southerner who had dealt with many a pirate in his time. Rather than try and retreats from the steadily advancing longboats and been inevitably cut down in the process, Barric rallied the sailors and staged a defense against the ships using their bigger if less heavily armed whaling vessels and trade ships to smash into the weaker longboats before leaping on board spear in hand and assaulting the surprised Wyldings. That day no ships were lost to the Wyldings an almost unheard of feat and from that point onward Barric was no longer a stranger but as one of them.
From that point forward Barric became something of what you call a pillar of the community, becoming the representative of the fisherman on the Jarl's council and helping keep Aoalvik generally running in tip top shape. He was elected to the position five consecutive times by his peers and refused a sixth nomination feeling that he was getting too old for the job and that new and passionate blood had to fill his place. During this time Barric began to focous more energy on making sure that his kids grew up right and learned the things that they needed to surive. All seemed well.
Then the Gods War Happened.
The unnatural winter cold came quick and it came hard. The chill of those winds took the breath away from Signe. She had a cold, a cold that at any other time she could of gotten over within a weeks time. But this time there was no such luck, the cold pushing forward and sapping her life away without reprieve. Barric was shattered, broken and destroyed become nothing more than the former shadow of himself. He took to drinking his troubles away and took to it hard. It has been two years since then, two years since the world started to fall apart and in that time Barric has never seemed to fully regain who he was before his wife death, but he stays alive and he stays strong not for himself but for his children. Determined to make sure that they make it through whatever lays ahead.
They never do of course.
He stumbled out of a tavern trying to drink away the cold when he saw Signe. She was the most beautiful girl that Barric had ever had the pleasure of seeing. She stood tall and proud arguing with a merchant about the price of furs. Her long dirty blond hair fell to about her waist and her green eyes were strong and fierce, a deep scar running across the nose of her face. Thus he did not return to his boat which was leaving port that day and began the process of trying to court the girl. At first she was hesitant of Barric, the people of the north did not look kindly to outsiders such as him with his odd accent and strange mannerisms. But if Barric was one thing he was persistent and over the days and weeks she slowly began to warm up to the stranger and warmth became friendship, and friendship became affection and affection as it sometimes does ended up becoming love.
The first few years were tough on Barric even after he married Signe and the twins were born. He found work on on the whaling ships that called Aoalvik its home port, and showed his worth as a sailor, but even so he was still the outsider. He was still the southern that had come into their world, took one of their woman and was pretending to be something more than he wasn't. People often did their most to try and not talk to the man or even look in his direction and if they even had any questions or things for the family they would direct them towards Signe rather than himself. But that would all change the day he earned the title he openly hates Barric The Spear.
It was an early spring day and Barric's ship among the others were already heading out for a days work. But upon the horizon they spotted something, something that struck fear into the hearts of even the strongest men. Three Wylding Raider longboats cresting over the horizon sails unfurled and oars slicing through the water at a breathtaking pace. With their gargantuan size and seemingly unnatural strength they soared through the thawing water heading straight towards the clusters of ships. Panic arose among the crews as they tried to turn around to return to the safety of Aoalvik. But it was no northern man that answered the call of courage that day, it was Barric the southerner who had dealt with many a pirate in his time. Rather than try and retreats from the steadily advancing longboats and been inevitably cut down in the process, Barric rallied the sailors and staged a defense against the ships using their bigger if less heavily armed whaling vessels and trade ships to smash into the weaker longboats before leaping on board spear in hand and assaulting the surprised Wyldings. That day no ships were lost to the Wyldings an almost unheard of feat and from that point onward Barric was no longer a stranger but as one of them.
From that point forward Barric became something of what you call a pillar of the community, becoming the representative of the fisherman on the Jarl's council and helping keep Aoalvik generally running in tip top shape. He was elected to the position five consecutive times by his peers and refused a sixth nomination feeling that he was getting too old for the job and that new and passionate blood had to fill his place. During this time Barric began to focous more energy on making sure that his kids grew up right and learned the things that they needed to surive. All seemed well.
Then the Gods War Happened.
The unnatural winter cold came quick and it came hard. The chill of those winds took the breath away from Signe. She had a cold, a cold that at any other time she could of gotten over within a weeks time. But this time there was no such luck, the cold pushing forward and sapping her life away without reprieve. Barric was shattered, broken and destroyed become nothing more than the former shadow of himself. He took to drinking his troubles away and took to it hard. It has been two years since then, two years since the world started to fall apart and in that time Barric has never seemed to fully regain who he was before his wife death, but he stays alive and he stays strong not for himself but for his children. Determined to make sure that they make it through whatever lays ahead.
| CHARACTER MOTIVATION |
To put it plain and simple, all Barric wishes to do is make sure that his children make it through. He doesn't care about anything else or anything else in particular.
| SKILLS |
- The Sea's Calling: By trade Barric is an accomplished sailor, if it floats and there is liquids well the man can probably get it halfway across the world if you gave him some time.
- The Pointy End Use The Pointy End!: Barric knows his way around a spear well enough as it is his preferred weapon if the need arises to defend himself.
- Pillar of The Community: Barric is well respected by people around Aoalvik, they listened to him and value his opinion. Guess he just has one of those faces I suppose.
- Stonefaced Mcgee: Barric is notoriously hard to read, don't play cards with the man it will only end badly.
| EQUIPMENT |
- The Lucky Spear: It was the same spear he used to kill the Wylding leaders all those years ago. He takes it wherever he goes usually strapped to his back.
- Traveling Pack: The pack is filled with some basic survival necessitates, he sewed it himself back when he was a lad.
- Hunting Knife: Useful for both close quarters combat and skinning animals
- Pendant: A pendant that he wears upon his neck, his wife give it to him on their wedding day. It is supposed to keep evil away.
| OTHER |
Hi!
Aleia
"There is nothing noble in being superior to your fellow man; true nobility is being superior to your former self."
| NICKNAME |
Nope.
| AGE |
18
| PHYSICAL APPEARANCE |
Out of the twins Aleia certainly takes after her father more than her mother with the southern blood showing apparent in her appearance. Unlike her father though, Aleia is not a small and slender creature. She stands taller than him and is of a strong and muscular build intimidating in its appearance akin to in modernity something like a MMA fighter. Her hair is a little lighter than her fathers showing more red than his darker browns and her eyes an icy blue much like her mothers. A line of freckles dances across her nose and cheeks above a small nose and a mouth that seems almost permanently etched into some sort of smirk. Despite this Aleia has an air of a warrior about her much, more than either her brother or even her father at times with a determined expression and a way of carrying herself that shows that she means business. There is a large claw mark going from her left ear downward towards the tip of her chin gained while on patrol when they ran into a rather angry bear. Her hair is kept short falling at just about ear length in level allowing it to easily be fit inside a helmet.
Usually Aleia can be seen in the chain mail and fur garb of the town guard, sword and shield in hand. The uniform is kept well intact by the girl and clean much like her weapons showing a particular intensity in the caring for and overall dedication shown in her work. When she is not wearing her outfit, she wears simple clothes of cloth that appear if a little bit baggy upon her. It is not hard to figure out that Aleia is not one that cares much for her own physical appearance and if she could just stay in her uniform at all times she would probably do it. It makes things simpler, one less annoyance to think about.
Usually Aleia can be seen in the chain mail and fur garb of the town guard, sword and shield in hand. The uniform is kept well intact by the girl and clean much like her weapons showing a particular intensity in the caring for and overall dedication shown in her work. When she is not wearing her outfit, she wears simple clothes of cloth that appear if a little bit baggy upon her. It is not hard to figure out that Aleia is not one that cares much for her own physical appearance and if she could just stay in her uniform at all times she would probably do it. It makes things simpler, one less annoyance to think about.
| PSYCHOLOGICAL ANALYSIS |
When she was younger Aleia was a much different person. She enjoyed goofing off with her brother, going on adventures and generally causing a great ruckus everywhere she went. She saw the world as a place filled with adventure just waiting for her to run out and grab it. She was going to be a Warrior Queen, A Rider of Dragons, A Wizard and fifty other things by the time she was ten. Then the snow began to fall and never stop, and then her mother died. It was this moment that caused something of a turning point in her life, she went from fun loving and serious to somber and very goal oriented. Joining up with the city guard, she turned her anger and aggression towards something more productive allowing her to at least vent out her emotions. She had to be strong to just for herself, but for her father and her brother. She had to be able to protect everybody and to make sure nobody else died. She had to do something. On that note she is fiercely protective of her brother and gods help any who would dare to try and harm him.
Of course though this air of stalwart responsibility is something of a facade. A carefully constructed ruse that she built after her mother died, so that she seemed strong so that her father stopped worrying about her. On the inside she is something of a wreck caught between her own feelings that everything is pointless and spiraling heavily out of control as even the gods have left, so why are they still around? As people she knows are dying and starving while she's supposed to be helping keep the order and keep everybody from killing one another while she can barely keep her own head on straight. But of course she never displays this outwardly, she bits her lip and keeps the screaming and the crying on the inside. Because you know this is real healthy for a young person, real healthy indeed.
Of course though this air of stalwart responsibility is something of a facade. A carefully constructed ruse that she built after her mother died, so that she seemed strong so that her father stopped worrying about her. On the inside she is something of a wreck caught between her own feelings that everything is pointless and spiraling heavily out of control as even the gods have left, so why are they still around? As people she knows are dying and starving while she's supposed to be helping keep the order and keep everybody from killing one another while she can barely keep her own head on straight. But of course she never displays this outwardly, she bits her lip and keeps the screaming and the crying on the inside. Because you know this is real healthy for a young person, real healthy indeed.
| BACKGROUND INFORMATION |
Aleia is the older of the twins by a margin of less than a minuet but none the less flaunts it over her younger brother. Out of the two of them she was certainty the more troublesome of the pair while he would read and play his instruments, Aleia would sneak out of the house to go on adventures, climb buildings and often fall off of them. She was always an anxious child, never being comfortable standing in the same place for long and always wanting to do something, go somewhere never content with just sitting around. In short she possessed much of the same adventurous spirit that drove her father in his youth something that two of them managed to bound over, as Barric would occasionally help his young daughter sneak out of the house and go on the whaling ship with him so that she could pretend to be a pirate or something.
There life was a simple one if not a good one. They didn't have much in terms of money but they had enough so that they wouldn't starve at night and unlike some her parents loved one another very much allowing for a well established and stable family life. As she grew up while her brother had more of a well defined path going ahead of him, Aleia had less luck meandering about rather unsure of what she wanted to do with her life. She never thought about joining up with the guard until she was actually approached by them. She had just gotten into a fight with some larger boys that were trying to get money of her brother. A poor circumstances for them as while Aleia got a busted nose and some new bruises from the encounter, they got a couple of broken bones and a crushed source of pride. The guards were impressed with the girls skill when they had to eventually come in and break up the fight and prevent Aleia from pounding one of the boys head into the stone work. They didn't throw her in the stockades out of respect for her father but they did suggest that if the girl wanted to use her fighting prowess for something a little bit more productive and helpful for society.
The girl would not remembered those words until her mother died some time later. The remnants of her family acted quite differently to the tragedy that fell before them. Her father took to isolating himself and drinking his feelings away, her brother lost himself in the moment become more and more self-destructive wanting to feel everything else beside the pain and Aleia buried it all deep within herself refusing to show any emotion at all. She joined up the guard and lost herself in the training and the day to day activity pushing away the feelings and focusing on the day by day. The work went by as the routine became almost numbing to her and two years seemed to pass by in a blink of an eye. And now the Wyldings are coming and what in the gods name is she supposed to do now?
There life was a simple one if not a good one. They didn't have much in terms of money but they had enough so that they wouldn't starve at night and unlike some her parents loved one another very much allowing for a well established and stable family life. As she grew up while her brother had more of a well defined path going ahead of him, Aleia had less luck meandering about rather unsure of what she wanted to do with her life. She never thought about joining up with the guard until she was actually approached by them. She had just gotten into a fight with some larger boys that were trying to get money of her brother. A poor circumstances for them as while Aleia got a busted nose and some new bruises from the encounter, they got a couple of broken bones and a crushed source of pride. The guards were impressed with the girls skill when they had to eventually come in and break up the fight and prevent Aleia from pounding one of the boys head into the stone work. They didn't throw her in the stockades out of respect for her father but they did suggest that if the girl wanted to use her fighting prowess for something a little bit more productive and helpful for society.
The girl would not remembered those words until her mother died some time later. The remnants of her family acted quite differently to the tragedy that fell before them. Her father took to isolating himself and drinking his feelings away, her brother lost himself in the moment become more and more self-destructive wanting to feel everything else beside the pain and Aleia buried it all deep within herself refusing to show any emotion at all. She joined up the guard and lost herself in the training and the day to day activity pushing away the feelings and focusing on the day by day. The work went by as the routine became almost numbing to her and two years seemed to pass by in a blink of an eye. And now the Wyldings are coming and what in the gods name is she supposed to do now?
| CHARACTER MOTIVATION |
Aleia is driven forward by a strong sense of duty. Duty to the city, duty to the people and most importantly duty to her family.
| SKILLS |
Sword and Board: Aleia is well accustomed to her choice weapons a hand axe and a large reinforced round sheild.
Fall Down? Get back up: Aleia demonstrates a surprisingly level of resilience able to take a lot of hits before she falls down.
Grace Under Pressure: At the worst of teams Aleia can keep her head on straight or at least fake the appearance of keeping calm under the trials of life.
Strong Like Ox: Aleia possess tremendous levels of raw strength very useful for common activities like picking up and carrying heavy things and also useful for putting as much weight as possible behind her swings.
Fall Down? Get back up: Aleia demonstrates a surprisingly level of resilience able to take a lot of hits before she falls down.
Grace Under Pressure: At the worst of teams Aleia can keep her head on straight or at least fake the appearance of keeping calm under the trials of life.
Strong Like Ox: Aleia possess tremendous levels of raw strength very useful for common activities like picking up and carrying heavy things and also useful for putting as much weight as possible behind her swings.
| EQUIPMENT |
- Hand Axe
- Round Shield
- Armor
| OTHER |
Hi again!
Falke
"Tried to fight the creeping sense of dread with temporal things. Most of the time I guess I felt all right."
| NICKNAME |
Fally: Used almost exclusively by his sister much to his annoyance
| AGE |
18
| PHYSICAL APPEARANCE |
From outward appearances, Falke can be described most easily as a conventionally handsome lad. Unlike his sister, Falke seems to have much more of the northern blood in him. His stands with a lean and tall build meant more for stamina and endurance than the brute strength of his sister. His hair is a dark blonde in color almost nearing towards lighter shades of red and brown depending on the light and is kept pulled up in a messy looking ponytail of sorts. He possesses a strong jaw line and a cocky if a little bit crooked smile. His eyes are an eerily match to his father's when he was younger the same light green matched with the same mischievous twinkle. Unlike his sister who could care little for appearances, Falke is well aware of the fact that those of both sexes considered him to be fairly attractive and he milks that for all its prospective worth. A real charmer don't cha know.
Falke dresses in normal clothes for a skald in simple leathers and furs nothing too garish. Though they are certainty tailored by his own hand to be more form fitting as opposed to his sisters appearance. He's volunteered to do the same for her clothing so that she could catch the eye of a man, but alas she seems uninterested in such things much to Falke's disappointment. The most noticable thing about his attire though is the amount of pockets, an almost outrageous amount and almost all of the pockets are filled with something. What do they continue? Well he likes the sense of mystery, so maybe you will find out on day. Or maybe you won't.
Falke dresses in normal clothes for a skald in simple leathers and furs nothing too garish. Though they are certainty tailored by his own hand to be more form fitting as opposed to his sisters appearance. He's volunteered to do the same for her clothing so that she could catch the eye of a man, but alas she seems uninterested in such things much to Falke's disappointment. The most noticable thing about his attire though is the amount of pockets, an almost outrageous amount and almost all of the pockets are filled with something. What do they continue? Well he likes the sense of mystery, so maybe you will find out on day. Or maybe you won't.
| PSYCHOLOGICAL ANALYSIS |
Some people move incredibly fast, never slowing down to the point that there is is no one there to catch them with they inevitable fall in the end. Falke is one of those people. Partly to keep the pain away and partly just to feel anything he moves along through life at a breathtaking pace, taking ridiculousness chances and always chasing after that next hit be it a good high or the most depressing of lows. He does not seem to care rushing ahead as some sort of terrible self destructive tornado whirling ever ahead and taking in and spitting out whatever comes in his path. Fear and thinking doesn't seem to register in his mind as much as they should, instead he acts on animalistic instinct at a snap fire pace, sometimes doing things just to see how bad they make him feel. This react first think later policy causes conflict with almost everybody he meets from his sister and father to anybody else all trying desperately to get him to slow down at least for a little bit.
The boy shows a surprising level of depth though from his self-destructive nature, incredibly well spoken and well read and with a head full of big ideas. This comes from a very strong love and attraction towards stories, stories of all kinds. In the tales and in the words he finds not only solace but like minded ideas and people. They allow him to experience a full range of emotions from the most terrible sadness to the most amazing feelings of happiness. And the stories themselves are everywhere, everyone in the world has a story, a story that Falke wants to find and draw out of them in a desparte attempt to find some sort of connection with another human being.
For all his own problems and hiccups, the boy is if anything else a very charming sort of individual, some would go as far to call him a charlatan and hoaxer but he finds such terms to be such unnecessary cruel in their origin. In truth he's less of a good liar than he is a very good listener, he listens when nobody else does and he does so intently with all his senses. By doing so he has a very particularly good sense at reading somebody and says the words that they needed to hear at the correct moment. He may steal your necklace but he will do it while helping comfort you over the loss of your beloved cat.
Over the years he had became relatively distant from his surviving family, speaking only to his father on some occasions and seemingly avoiding his sister at all costs much to her anger. Maybe he feels guilty, ashamed or something else nobody really knows.
The boy shows a surprising level of depth though from his self-destructive nature, incredibly well spoken and well read and with a head full of big ideas. This comes from a very strong love and attraction towards stories, stories of all kinds. In the tales and in the words he finds not only solace but like minded ideas and people. They allow him to experience a full range of emotions from the most terrible sadness to the most amazing feelings of happiness. And the stories themselves are everywhere, everyone in the world has a story, a story that Falke wants to find and draw out of them in a desparte attempt to find some sort of connection with another human being.
For all his own problems and hiccups, the boy is if anything else a very charming sort of individual, some would go as far to call him a charlatan and hoaxer but he finds such terms to be such unnecessary cruel in their origin. In truth he's less of a good liar than he is a very good listener, he listens when nobody else does and he does so intently with all his senses. By doing so he has a very particularly good sense at reading somebody and says the words that they needed to hear at the correct moment. He may steal your necklace but he will do it while helping comfort you over the loss of your beloved cat.
Over the years he had became relatively distant from his surviving family, speaking only to his father on some occasions and seemingly avoiding his sister at all costs much to her anger. Maybe he feels guilty, ashamed or something else nobody really knows.
| BACKGROUND INFORMATION |
Falke's earliest memory is of his mother singing to him. He doesn't know why she is, but he knows he is in her arms and she is rocking him back and forth gently while in a gentle flowing voice signs an old northern ballad. It seemed fitting for a young man who would evidently traveler down the path of a storyteller and a performer. Falke was always a little bit different as a child than his sister or most of the normal kids in Aoalvik. He did not pretend to be a warrior by waving a stick around or try to climb the outside of the guard tower without being caught. Most of Falke time was spent sitting on the floor of the local tavern where his mother worked listening to the Skalds work there craft spinning stories of heroes and singing songs which could break the hearts of even the most stone faced gentlemen. He fell in love with this craters of word and song, finding himself memorizing every word to the tales they weaved and practicing the dramatic motions they used while they spoke. He begged his parents to get him a lute and one day his father came back from the harbor with one which he practiced with day and night even as his fingers bled to be able to play it properly.
It was only till Falke was a little bit older that he realized he could use these talents for more than just telling stories. He realized he could use such talents to get what he wanted from people with a well placed story and the proper belief behind it. The first time he did so he was eight years old and by pretending to a be a small urchin he received free food and some coin from a kindly lady. From that point forward Falke was off to the races and where he went trouble seemed to follow almost exclusively hot on his heels. Normally he'd end up pushing way too deep and getting himself way over his hell either scheming the wrong person or making the wrong guys sister sad, resulting in having to have his sister bail him out of trouble and making sure that he kept all the teeth inside of his mouth. But all seemed to be good, everybody was happy at least. Then his mother died.
The death of his mother may have effected Falke ever more than his father. Falke had always shared a deeper connection with his mother than he did was his mother, as the one life line that still beloved that underneath his troublesome exterior that their was still a good person laying somewhere beneath it all. No matter what she still loved him and she was always proud of him. When she died what little restraint Falke still possessed sort of just flew straight out the window. He lost himself in drink, money and the pleasures of flesh all in equal amounts as all seemed to fly about plenty in what seemed to be the end of the world. He went down his path as a performer more than he did before. He came home late if he came home at all spending his time playing in the taverns for coin and wandering the streets looking for more stories.
It was only till Falke was a little bit older that he realized he could use these talents for more than just telling stories. He realized he could use such talents to get what he wanted from people with a well placed story and the proper belief behind it. The first time he did so he was eight years old and by pretending to a be a small urchin he received free food and some coin from a kindly lady. From that point forward Falke was off to the races and where he went trouble seemed to follow almost exclusively hot on his heels. Normally he'd end up pushing way too deep and getting himself way over his hell either scheming the wrong person or making the wrong guys sister sad, resulting in having to have his sister bail him out of trouble and making sure that he kept all the teeth inside of his mouth. But all seemed to be good, everybody was happy at least. Then his mother died.
The death of his mother may have effected Falke ever more than his father. Falke had always shared a deeper connection with his mother than he did was his mother, as the one life line that still beloved that underneath his troublesome exterior that their was still a good person laying somewhere beneath it all. No matter what she still loved him and she was always proud of him. When she died what little restraint Falke still possessed sort of just flew straight out the window. He lost himself in drink, money and the pleasures of flesh all in equal amounts as all seemed to fly about plenty in what seemed to be the end of the world. He went down his path as a performer more than he did before. He came home late if he came home at all spending his time playing in the taverns for coin and wandering the streets looking for more stories.
| CHARACTER MOTIVATION |
With the collapse of society and the Wyldings burning down villages and cities lots of culture and history is being lost day by day. Falke wishes to preserve this culture in his own special way by collecting as many stories as he can.
| SKILLS |
- Charmer: If Falke is good at one thing that is talking to people, telling stories and the like. He carries a charismatic air about him and is very good at getting people to do what he wants, rallying crowds et cetra.
- Performer: Beside being a pretty good story teller, Falke can hold a pretty solid tune.
- Blush Response: Falke is by most standards a fairly attractive young man and knows how to use that to his advantage. Can looks kill though? Probably not.
- Sleight of Hand: now you see it, now you don't.
- Well Read: He knows a lot about the world. Most of it is pretty useless but hey you never know.
- Fight Dirty: Falke isn't that great in a fight so to be able to win one, he has learned to use every advantage he has at his dishonorable no matter how dishonorable they may be.
| EQUIPMENT |
- Lute
- Large Book: It is filled with the stories and tales he had collected over the years
- Travelers pack: The same sort of make as his father's.
- Knife: Somewhere between a big knife and a small sword, used mostly for utility purposes instead of defense most of the time.
| OTHER |
Bye!
