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Hidden 7 yrs ago Post by Kalmar
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Kalmar The Mediocre

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Character Sheet

Name: Gerald Arenar
Age: 35
Gender: Male
Nationality: Relunski

Occupation: Mercenary
Skills and Abilities: Gerald is an excellent swordsman and a decent shot with a bow. He is good at moving silently, and has a fair amount of knowledge when it comes to tracking and lockpicking. He is also familiar with the basics of trade and negotiating, and has a surprisingly refined vocabulary for a hired cutthroat.
Weaknesses: He makes no attempt to hide his callous attitude, making it difficult to gain allies or friends.

Appearance: Gerald stands at an imposing six foot five, with short, unkempt, dark blond hair, and some scraggly stubble for facial hair. He has a light skin tone with a slight tan, and dark green eyes. There is a scar running from under his left eye to the bottom of his cheek. He is physically well built from his long years of travel and combat, and has a few other scars located here or there across his body.

Equipment: Gerald is clad in a boiled leather vest, with steel shoulder plating and steel gauntlets. He wears a pair of leather pants, with padding over the thighs and groin, steel knee guards, steel greaves, and a pair of steel-toed leather boots, with a back-up pair of soft leather shoes when he needs to go sneaking. He has a shortbow and a quiver of twenty arrows slung on it his back, a steel longsword sheathed at his left hip, an ornate dagger with a long curved blade and a small emerald in the hilt sheathed on his chest, an ordinary dagger sheathed at his right hip, and a small knife hidden in his boot. In the way of miscellaneous gear, he has a coinpouch and a set of lockpicks, both kept secure on his right hip as well. Lastly, he also owns a brown riding horse named Alice, with saddlebags for his basic traveling supplies - rope, a bedroll, provisions, and so on.

Background: Gerald was born in Vesvolla. His mother and father were merchants, who owned a caravan which traveled from place to place selling its goods. From a young age, he was used to being on the move. His parents taught him to read and write, and about trade and negotiation, since he would be expected to one day follow after their footsteps. He had an older brother, but he passed away from sickness when Gerald was too young to remember them. His only other company consisted of the caravan guards, who he eventually talked into teaching him swordplay. He also spent a great deal of time reading through his mother's collection of books.

Although they mostly did their business in Relunski, occasionally they passed into Drunnic or Jarlton territory, whenever a particular foreign beverage, spice, or outfit was in fashion back in Relunski's capital. As a result, he had a rather worldly background.

Unfortunately, the merchant's lifestyle was not to last. When he was fourteen, the caravan was making its way through the Shimmering Woods. His mother had cautioned his father against the route, but he believed it would be a quicker route through the Drunnic and Relunski kingdoms. They soon came across a tree blocking the road. As the guards attempted to clear it, half of them were struck down by arrows, and then a dozen men charged out from both sides of the road equipped with swords and hatchets.

It was then that a smaller party of perhaps three bandits came behind the caravan. Gerald's father drew his sword and managed to fight off and kill one, but the other two quickly put blades near Gerald and his mother's throats. As the man holding Gerald commanded his father to surrender, his hand drifted away slightly, allowing Gerald to bite into it, and Gerald's father seized the opportunity to run the man through. But the bandit holding Gerald's mother cut her throat.

Meanwhile, the caravan guards were clearly losing, and threw down their weapons in surrender. Gerald's father ordered him to run, and then with a cry of rage he attacked his mother's killer, the two engaging in a vicious swordfight. Gerald, covered in blood and scared out of his mind, complied, fleeing into the woods. He took one last look behind him just in time to see the bandit's face as he cut his father down - it was a face he would never forget.

He walked for several days. Every now and then he would find a berry bush, and that would keep him going, but he was hungry. Eventually he was ambushed by another group of bandits. Seeing his fine, albeit dirty clothes, they figured he had something of value or would be worth a ransom. He managed to put up quite a fight, giving one a black eye and knocking out another before he himself was knocked out. The bandits soon discovered he had nothing, but the leader had been impressed with his courage and fighting prowess, believing he had potential, and offered him a place in their ranks.

With nowhere to go and nothing left to his name, he reluctantly accepted, falling into the lifestyle of a brigand. They further trained him in the art of swordsmanship, but also took the time to train him with bows and knives. He learned how to track both people and wildlife, looting caravans, ambushing travelers, and hunting and foraging for food. It was a rough lifestyle, but eventually he learned to accept it, and the bandit leader was almost like a father to him.

New members came and went. Some would die in combat or to sickness, others would leave or get killed by a rival in the company (and if the person who did the killing was caught, they would be killed in return), but there would always be new faces to replace them - soldiers who deserted, criminals who had been forced to flee into the wild, travelers with nowhere else to go, they came from a variety of background. But when he was around twenty years old, there was one member he simply could not accept.

It was the man who killed his father all those years ago. But rather than immediately react, Gerald remained silent. The man didn't recognize him - why would he? He waited until nightfall, and when everyone was asleep and Gerald posted on watch duty, he knifed the man in his sleep, packed up his equipment and provisions, and left.

The band of brigands mainly operated within the Shimmering woods, and they would not care enough about the new recruit to follow Gerald once he had made it out. So, he left, heading back towards Relunski. From there on, he carved out his own path. He found employment and coin wherever he could, from working as a hired thug for loan sharks or street gangs, spending time in mercenary companies, taking on freelance work, and in particularly desperate cases full-on thievery. He spent time traveling all across the land, but recently his travels have took him back to the city where his life began.

Hidden 7 yrs ago Post by Ekreture
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Ekreture

Member Seen 9 mos ago

Character Sheet:
Name: Sir Clarence Maison
Age: 23
Gender: Male
Nationality: Jarlton
Occupation: Disgraced Knight and Nobleman/Unemployed
Skills and Abilities: Great at blending in with other nobles, aristocracies and higher-ups in general. Intensely skilled with a sword and in horsemanship, along with most animals. Also great with the ladies, and good at lying in general...can also read.
Weaknesses: Terrible with lower classes, and can come off as rude and condescending, with the little callous in his hands displaying his ineptitude in labor, and is somewhat lazy and afraid of getting dirty.
Equipment: A few swords, some nice clothing...some books...tends to not dress nice though, given his current situation. He still does keep a sword on him at all times. His mustache is one of his more salient pieces of equipment.
Background: Clarence was a knight and son of a nobleman of Jarlton, before a scoundrel and enemy of his family forced him from his home, causing him to live in an inn in Vesvolla for the past month or two, where he's been slowly running out of money.

QUESTIONNAIRE:
1. What am I doing here? sigh... Apparently I live here now...at least for the time being...
2. Yarrings? Ugh. So long as I keep far from them, I don't mind them all too much...but such hasn't been the case recently.
3. Take it from the other sick person. This one is obvious.
4. Talk to whatever young maid working in the market seems the most of an ingénue and charm the food from her. It has happened before.
5. What, let a whole ship sink for the lives of a few tired fools? The whole situation is hypothetical, but as of now, those people should hope to float.
6. Ha...why would you care? Nothing happened! Eh...someone jealous of my father framed me, most likely!
7. Your family...and your honor...right?
8. When warring and dueling, I would not call it murder rather than assisted suicide.
9. I am responsible. I would not question that.
10. Whoever holds the power is whoever has taken it. But it should rightfully belong to the most honorable nobility.
11. Again, so long as it stays hidden in the backwoods what do I care?
12. Tend to my estate...raise a...family with a wife or whatnot.
13. Atop a steed leading the charge!
14. Yes. I would.
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