I'm all up for knowing more about the lore, too. Right know I just went into Paron and created a bunch of landmarks in there, I hope it wasn't in conflict with what the GM had in mind.
Heinrich Member
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Heath's wine was gone for a while, when he had finally reached the gates of Paron. Five canteens of wine and a small gold pouch was his payment for escorting a wine merchant to his previous destination. Heath had agreed to escort another one of the wine merchant's friends, but took the wrong turn along the way to him, so now that plan was off. Now all he could hope for was to find some work in Paron.
Heath had visited the town a couple of times but never came in through this road. It was by no means comparable to the capital, Sharu, but a pleasant settlement, a crossroad of sorts. At least several roads from cities and towns around crossed here. Many people stopped here to replenish their supplies or spend a cozy, warm night.
The guardsmen did not spare a second glance as Heath went through the gate - for them he was yet another traveller seeking shelter as storm clouds were brewing and a rain would be upon the city come night, no doubt. The man turned his horse for a bigger street with white stone pavement. Heath knew that people called it the "Emperor's Way", as the street would eventually lead to the Large Gate which starts the road to the capital. After walking his horse along the Emperor's Way for some time, he eventually found the inn he was looking for. The Lion's Tooth it was called. One of the, if not the, most expensive inns in the town, but every wealthier traveller would spend their night there.
Heath left his horse in a stable nearby, where he got a small paper indicating that the horse was his and went inside the inn. This inn actually had its own wardens, one of them guarding the doors, not letting in common drunks and folk that their eye saw unfit to pay for a night here. Three days of road-drinking did not make Heath look a fitting candidate, so he already had his coin pouch in hand and waved it as he entered. The man probably barely fitted in their eyes as the guards let him pass after exchanging a couple of glances. Heath then went to a free table and sat, ordered a beer, food and a room for two nights. That cost him the whole coin pouch; a sad end to his savings, but Heath’s best shot at finding a well-paying job in Paron. The man then tried to listen to people talking around him, hoping to overhear something useful and hopefully find a way to earn some good coin from these wealthy travellers.
Heath had visited the town a couple of times but never came in through this road. It was by no means comparable to the capital, Sharu, but a pleasant settlement, a crossroad of sorts. At least several roads from cities and towns around crossed here. Many people stopped here to replenish their supplies or spend a cozy, warm night.
The guardsmen did not spare a second glance as Heath went through the gate - for them he was yet another traveller seeking shelter as storm clouds were brewing and a rain would be upon the city come night, no doubt. The man turned his horse for a bigger street with white stone pavement. Heath knew that people called it the "Emperor's Way", as the street would eventually lead to the Large Gate which starts the road to the capital. After walking his horse along the Emperor's Way for some time, he eventually found the inn he was looking for. The Lion's Tooth it was called. One of the, if not the, most expensive inns in the town, but every wealthier traveller would spend their night there.
Heath left his horse in a stable nearby, where he got a small paper indicating that the horse was his and went inside the inn. This inn actually had its own wardens, one of them guarding the doors, not letting in common drunks and folk that their eye saw unfit to pay for a night here. Three days of road-drinking did not make Heath look a fitting candidate, so he already had his coin pouch in hand and waved it as he entered. The man probably barely fitted in their eyes as the guards let him pass after exchanging a couple of glances. Heath then went to a free table and sat, ordered a beer, food and a room for two nights. That cost him the whole coin pouch; a sad end to his savings, but Heath’s best shot at finding a well-paying job in Paron. The man then tried to listen to people talking around him, hoping to overhear something useful and hopefully find a way to earn some good coin from these wealthy travellers.
@SuperTacticalDerp Okay, just what I thought, thanks for clearing that!
Two questions:
How is the capital called? I didn't see it mentioned anywhere.
How far is Paron from the capital?
How is the capital called? I didn't see it mentioned anywhere.
How far is Paron from the capital?
@SuperTacticalDerp It's fine, lol :D I just like to point out mistakes and appreciate when people point out mine :P
@SuperTacticalDerp Not to go all grammar nazi here, but in your IC its "should have", not "should of" :D
Aw, Yis. Well my character is drunk and took the wrong turn, so he's definitely living it up.
Heath was trotting on a horse while singing, not too loudly, however, not to attract unwanted attention. In his left hand he held the reins of his grey-furred horse, an old and somewhat small animal, one that he stole a while back. Seed he called it. Nobody would say Heath's horse was a fine steed, but Heath could not say that it has ever failed him. The man's right hand tightly held a canteen half-full of wine, the other half already drunk by him en route. He stopped singing for a moment to take a gulp of wine. As he did that, his horse suddenly went to a full stop and Heath barely held himself in the saddle, as his head was slightly spinning from the second canteen of wine he was drinking.
"What the..."- Heath almost cursed, but was briefly cut off by a woman's voice in front of his horse:
"'scuse me, ser, me and me husband's cart broke its wheel, mayhaps you could help me man fix it?"
"Shut it, woman" a man's voice shouted at the first voice "Shall I need help, I'll ask for it meself."
"Ploughin' dumb are ye? Ye wanna spend a night 'ere in the open? I much rather reach Paron and sleep in me cozy bed, mere ten miles away.."
Even though Heath's head was spinning from all that wine, he did understand that the woman said "Paron".
"Wait, what did you just say?" Heath asked, interrupting their dispute. "Paron? This road leads to Paron?"
"Aye, it does, lad" the man answered. "And we're almost good to go, no need fer ye to help me."
Heath actually had no intention to help the man in the first place, yet only now he understood having taken the wrong turn two days ago, travelling in the wrong direction and not noticing it because of being half-drunk the whole time.
"Damn" he said and sighed, then took another gulp of wine. "Paron it is, I guess. Farewell you two, hope you fix the cart soon enough." Heath lead Seed around the man and woman and their cart and started trotting towards Paron, hearing disputes behind for quite some time still.
"What the..."- Heath almost cursed, but was briefly cut off by a woman's voice in front of his horse:
"'scuse me, ser, me and me husband's cart broke its wheel, mayhaps you could help me man fix it?"
"Shut it, woman" a man's voice shouted at the first voice "Shall I need help, I'll ask for it meself."
"Ploughin' dumb are ye? Ye wanna spend a night 'ere in the open? I much rather reach Paron and sleep in me cozy bed, mere ten miles away.."
Even though Heath's head was spinning from all that wine, he did understand that the woman said "Paron".
"Wait, what did you just say?" Heath asked, interrupting their dispute. "Paron? This road leads to Paron?"
"Aye, it does, lad" the man answered. "And we're almost good to go, no need fer ye to help me."
Heath actually had no intention to help the man in the first place, yet only now he understood having taken the wrong turn two days ago, travelling in the wrong direction and not noticing it because of being half-drunk the whole time.
"Damn" he said and sighed, then took another gulp of wine. "Paron it is, I guess. Farewell you two, hope you fix the cart soon enough." Heath lead Seed around the man and woman and their cart and started trotting towards Paron, hearing disputes behind for quite some time still.
Name: Heath of Dailor
Race: Human
Gender: Male
Appearance:
Heath does not seem a person one would call large or strong, or swift at that matter. He is somewhat muscular, though not exceptionally, about 6 feet tall. He wears his shorter than shoulder length hair loose and has a short boxed beard. Both his hair and beard are dark-brown, yet the colour seems somewhat lighter due to constant exposure to dust, Sun and rain on the road. Heath's eyes are of greenish shade.
Usually seen with his heavily-worn armor, which has no banner or other distinctive features. You would not call it heavy armor as he only wears a breastplate with leather pants, boots and gloves. Heath's travel cloak, that covers his back and shoulders, is probably his least worn item.
Class: Fighter/Warrior
Job: A poor wandering self-proclaimed knight
Weapon of choice: Sword that he handles with exceptional care. Has a bunch of daggers hidden in his clothing, because that's how a wanderer lives on.
Personality: Heath is silent, yet he hears and remembers most of what people talk around. He is not easily set off and rarely does he help others, unless that furthers his interests. Most of the time, he tries to use wit over force, though is not reluctant to use either. His look is that of an uncertain and a sad man, yet behind his eyes hides a highly pragmatic, sometimes cruel even, person. He values result and is prepared for sacrifices in order to achieve what he aspires. His whole "philosophy" is built on him spending most of his life on the road. If he has a certain trait that he never lost from his young days its his stubbornness.
Background: Heath was a thirdborn to a castellan of his hometown Dailor. Being a thirdborn he had neither the chances to marry into the local lord's family nor inherit any of his father's titles or wealth on his passing. Thus he aspired to be a knight and join one of the noble and respected orders as would be any boy's dream. He studied many things on his father's behest, learned to write and read, the art of swordsmanship, tactics and a couple of other things, however this life went to an abrupt end when bandits ambushed the castellan's family travelling to their summer residence. Heath does not know much of what happened to his family, since he was abducted by the bandits on their retreat. Heath was thirteen years old by then. Spending a couple of months as their prisoner and seeing that his father was not even trying to pursue the bandits, he managed to talk himself into the band and eventually became not their prisoner but a member. As it is with bands of outlaws, some of them desert, some of them die; eventually, 9 years after his abduction, all of them parted their ways.
Heath continued to travel the world, having looted some decent-looking gear and sharpening his swordsmanship throughout the years on road. He would usually pass himself of as a poor knight, although he was never actually knighted. He lived off by protecting caravans, travelers, scavenging and other not-so-noble deeds.
Other information: Heath considers talking himself into the outlaw band one of the greater achievements of his, not only because that most likely saved his life, but also because because his stubbornness would have never let him return to Dailor, since his father had not seemed to put much effort in finding him.
As of now he is 24 years old.
Race: Human
Gender: Male
Appearance:
Heath does not seem a person one would call large or strong, or swift at that matter. He is somewhat muscular, though not exceptionally, about 6 feet tall. He wears his shorter than shoulder length hair loose and has a short boxed beard. Both his hair and beard are dark-brown, yet the colour seems somewhat lighter due to constant exposure to dust, Sun and rain on the road. Heath's eyes are of greenish shade.
Usually seen with his heavily-worn armor, which has no banner or other distinctive features. You would not call it heavy armor as he only wears a breastplate with leather pants, boots and gloves. Heath's travel cloak, that covers his back and shoulders, is probably his least worn item.
Class: Fighter/Warrior
Job: A poor wandering self-proclaimed knight
Weapon of choice: Sword that he handles with exceptional care. Has a bunch of daggers hidden in his clothing, because that's how a wanderer lives on.
Personality: Heath is silent, yet he hears and remembers most of what people talk around. He is not easily set off and rarely does he help others, unless that furthers his interests. Most of the time, he tries to use wit over force, though is not reluctant to use either. His look is that of an uncertain and a sad man, yet behind his eyes hides a highly pragmatic, sometimes cruel even, person. He values result and is prepared for sacrifices in order to achieve what he aspires. His whole "philosophy" is built on him spending most of his life on the road. If he has a certain trait that he never lost from his young days its his stubbornness.
Background: Heath was a thirdborn to a castellan of his hometown Dailor. Being a thirdborn he had neither the chances to marry into the local lord's family nor inherit any of his father's titles or wealth on his passing. Thus he aspired to be a knight and join one of the noble and respected orders as would be any boy's dream. He studied many things on his father's behest, learned to write and read, the art of swordsmanship, tactics and a couple of other things, however this life went to an abrupt end when bandits ambushed the castellan's family travelling to their summer residence. Heath does not know much of what happened to his family, since he was abducted by the bandits on their retreat. Heath was thirteen years old by then. Spending a couple of months as their prisoner and seeing that his father was not even trying to pursue the bandits, he managed to talk himself into the band and eventually became not their prisoner but a member. As it is with bands of outlaws, some of them desert, some of them die; eventually, 9 years after his abduction, all of them parted their ways.
Heath continued to travel the world, having looted some decent-looking gear and sharpening his swordsmanship throughout the years on road. He would usually pass himself of as a poor knight, although he was never actually knighted. He lived off by protecting caravans, travelers, scavenging and other not-so-noble deeds.
Other information: Heath considers talking himself into the outlaw band one of the greater achievements of his, not only because that most likely saved his life, but also because because his stubbornness would have never let him return to Dailor, since his father had not seemed to put much effort in finding him.
As of now he is 24 years old.
@Ryka Alrighty, I'll copy my CS to Characters section and write something up after catching up with IC.
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