Grimoire — Roleplayer Guild

After a long time, Yandle was feeling rather happy. It was the kind of hearty happiness that come from having a well-cooked meal after a morning of exercise. After several months out in the wilderness eking out a living on charred meat and boiled vegetables, the food from the Oakenhiem inn made him almost squeal with joy. The matronly cook was a kind lady who made sure that he filled all the way to his throat after he made the mistake of complimenting her cooking.

He remembered her say something along the lines of "Oh dear me, If only the other travellers were as nice as you m'boy...". So here he was back out on the road, several stones heavier and all round happier. After all there was nothing better than good walk after a stomach full of food. Yandle, however, was not walking without purpose there was something he had to see. It was a well-known stop for most rookie adventurers making their way towards Essia. The Stone of Nine, a monument to the greatest of adventurers and heroes. After all how many could claim to have defeated a deity?

Finally, he reached the clearing where the stones lay, along with several men and women from all walks. Unsurprising, it was good luck to begin one's adventuring. The stones themselves had what might be termed a rough aesthetic, but it appealed to Yandle’s heart. He recognized them to be a symbol that like the stones before they were all waiting to become chiseled into the heroes the stones stood for. He also wondered how hard it would be to lift the thing. He had heard pulling large stones on one's back was good training. He really wanted to give it a try but managed to contain himself. 

Last time he did something like that, a horde of villagers chased him for three days. Three days without food, water or sleep. He couldn't even fight back or else he’d become a criminal. Yandle sighed and went back to staring intensely at the stone. He wasn’t sure if there was some ritual involved with the stone, so he hoped to observe someone doing something.

“Hmm, there has to be a large rock I can pull somewhere in this place?”

Name: Yandle Rahman
Race: Human
Title: Maybe someday?
Age: 17
Appearance: 

A tall and heavily built man with an imposing aura, he has the brown skin common to denizens of the forests. His face is strong, with a kind of roughness around the edges with eyes that shine hazel. His long hair is tied into a neat ponytail and bangs held up with the aid of a simple grey headband.

He is garbed in an battered steel breastplate with a worn hide shirt underneath. He wears simple dark cotton pants with a set of steel greaves and steel plated boots. Over this attire he wears a simple cloak of a dull red. His hands are also housed within worn steel gauntlets. On his back  hangs a simple round shield, marred with scratches and small dents, but without any other adornments. To his side hangs a short sword yet another simple affair.

Personality: 

The first thing one will notice when first approaching him, is the intensity he exudes from every pore of his body. As if the very air around him is bowing down to his will. That of course is the crux of what Yandle is, raw unadulterated will. Throughout his life he has relied on his single minded determination to help surpass barriers that those with talent easily circumvented. He would continuously push himself harder and farther than any person near him, making up for talent with simple hard work. There was a time when he walked all the way back to his town, starved, dehydrated and a giant tusk gored through his leg, all with only the sheer force of will.

Having spent a large lengths of time, he is somewhat rough around the edges tending to get straight to the point in conversations. To people from the cities he may appear overly blunt and rude, but none of this is intentional. However this also means that he never tries to hide his intentions and never feels the need to lie, a true and honest man if any. To those that know him even more will know that he brings with him the warmth that the people of small towns have, the easy trust and respect towards others they seem to have. It is difficult for anyone not to befriend the man within the first ten minutes of conversation.

However Yandle is not without his vices, for one he is a rather prideful man. He isn’t the kind to be able to deal with failure easily. In fact when it comes to his pride he is quick to take offense, causing him to make rather rash decisions. He also does not take to insults easily either and is a easy way make him lose his cool. However Yandle is the kind that gets eerily quiet when angry, so most won’t don’t even have a warning before he snaps.

Abilities:

Sword and Shield: Over several years of relentless training and battle, Yandle has built a style of fighting with the sword and shield which relies on defense and patience to find the best time to attack. 

Physical Prowess: He has wrought his body into a veritable powerhouse with large stores of strength and endurance.

Quickwielding: A utilitarian style of casting that use quick and simple rune spells towards more utillitarian effects, this also includes making various one off bombs etc with enchanted wooden tablets, as well as enchanting his weapons with temporary charms. The primary weakness of these spells and enchantments is their temporary nature, burning out in a matter of minutes.
Current Runes:
	Force: Emit blasts of concussive force
	Earth Wall: Generate a protective wall of earth

Whisper: Wind that waves, shadow that saves, it is light that pays

History: 

The Rahman clan are among the more prolific crafter clans within the eastern forests. The clan is situated  in the town of Kayros, at the northern parts of the forests. It is said that the creations of the Rahman clan are like veritable works of art in the depth and intricacy of enchanting that is put on them.

Unfortunately Yandle was born with little to no knack towards enchantment, and little interest besides. He wasn’t the kind the kind that could sit hour over hour cooped up in a dark room reading some esoteric book nor listening to the wise ramblings of an elder. It didn’t  take him to differentiate himself from his siblings and relatives as a black sheep and something of a trouble maker.

As everyone around him became better, Yandle slowly became sidelined even ignored. He himself began to become ever more reclusive and quiet, haunted by the feeling of just not fitting in. Not a good sensation for a one so young. He began to question his worth to the clan and to himself, it was a matter of pride.

It is during this low in Yandle’s life that the town was besieged by a goblin warband. For several months the town of Kayros was forced to stay within its walls, with no contact from outside. Eventually and as expected the town began to starve as supplies began to dwindle. An air of depression and doom began to blanket the townsfolk. At one point they began to think as to why no one from the other towns found it strange that Kayros had suddenly grown so quiet.  It was then that several bodies were flung over the walls, of soldiers and merchants. All men and women who had tried to reach the town or save it.

It was at the peak of their despair that they heard the trumpets baying into the sky. Several townsfolk including Yandle ran to walls out of something like grim curiosity. Far out on the path that lead to the town he saw them, the members of the Iron Tiger guild slowly advancing towards the goblin war party, stoic and unwavering. The guild members cut into the goblins without abandon, gleaming of steel within their blood spatter dance of death. Finally overcoming the goblins, glorious in their sanguine armor.

Yandle observed the entire battle his eyes wide with awe, a feeling growing in his heart. He finally knew what it was that he wanted to do. Yandle would become an adventurer. From then on he would begin his journey to become the person he is today. Slowly accumulating skill with the sword from sheer effort and bloodshed while accompanying the guard parties roaming the forest paths.

He also began to work on his crafting skills, however for more practical reasons. To be an effective fighter he needed to be versatile, runes would provide him that versatility. Slowly he developed his form of rune wielding favoring quick casting utility.

Eventually when he felt strong enough to be able to make it on his he left the walls of his town and ventured out into the great unknown.

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Awesomesauce Since 1623

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