Qia,
Master Bruce,
PatientBean,
wintersoldier,
Mcmolly,
Carlyle,
mickilennial,
Hound55,
Roman,
Festive
EDIT: Finished
C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T _________________________________________________________C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T  C H A R A C T E R N O T E S C H A R A C T E R N O T E S Snowing Timber is an archetypal hunter, a nimble ranger of the woods of the realm. He was one of the unadopted survivors, but a loyal protector of those he considered dear. Remaining one of the youngest at the age of 18, Timber has had little else to rely on than his bow, some arrows, and his trusted wolf companion Ardie. Timber's greatest strength is his speed, agility, and his perceptiveness. In his time mostly alone and living off the land, Timber has grown superstitious and weary of strangers and civilization. As much as Timber looks forward to seeing his friends once again for a reunion, part of him hopes to be the only one sitting at the Lying Wolverine: for their sakes, he's hoped they've all moved on by now. Personality Traits of Note: Altruistic, Superstitious, Introverted, Kind, Spiritual, Wise | C H I L D H O O D I N A R D E N F E L D C H I L D H O O D I N A R D E N F E L D Snowing Timber was born a member of the Snowing Forest family eighteen years ago. He was born the only son of two of the village's hunters, Shadow and Cloud. What Timber remembers of his parents has always been positive: Shadow was a serious huntress who stalked big game, while Cloud was content with setting traps to catch plenty of smaller game that wandered near the village in hope of feasting on local produce. Their occupations left them away from the home more often than Timber would have liked, and Timber naturally spent more time with his father checking and setting traps than out deeper in the woods with his mother. He grew to love the forests that his family spent so much time in when he was young. As Timber grew, he had no trouble making friends. He was naïve, but loyal to those who called him a friend. He would do anything to make sure to keep a smile on the faces of those around him. He would scrounge up various berries when out with his father to bring back as little gifts, and would try to take the blame if one of his friends got in trouble for doing something they weren't supposed to. Life was... simple, then. Timber knew something was wrong the day of the attack. His mother had never returned from her hunt, and his father had left in a hurry to go look for her. His last memory of his father was watching the tall, lanky white Tabaxi press his forehead against Timber's, before rushing out the door. Hours later, Timber's coat was covered in ash and his lungs were full of smoke. He should have died, but was lucky to be ushered to safety by some of the older kids in the village. L I F E A T T H E O R P H A N A G E L I F E A T T H E O R P H A N A G E Timber was never adopted from the orphanage. He couldn't really blame them. He was a scrawny, weak kid. The attack on Ardenfeld left him timid and unsociable to strangers. The last strange adults he had seen took everything from him. The only ones he was close with were his friends. Any time any of them acted up, Timber was the first to rush in and take the blame. The staff believed him to be just another unlovable burden, and they never bothered to notice that his bad behavior suddenly stopped when the last of his fellow survivors left the orphanage. Timber had to just sit and watch as one by one the only "family" of his that was still alive had left him. As much as he wants them to be happy, part of Timber can't help but feel abandoned by the survivors of Ardenfeld. At the age of fourteen, Snowing Timber left the orphanage and the city of Sarinan. He had no destination in mind. O N W A R D: A N E W P A T H O N W A R D: A N E W P A T H After leaving the orphanage, Snowing Timber wandered for some time. He is still unclear if it was days, months, or years he spent on his own. He was able to catch small game here and there, setting rudimentary traps like his father had shown him as a child. He was clinging to life by a thread each and every day, scrambling to survive on his own. As much as he wanted to just give up, something deep down inside of him refused to surrender to the elements and hunger that assaulted him day and night. One day, however, Timber stumbled upon a dying fire in a small clearing. Hanging from sticks over the dying flames was a cooked rabbit, though Timber saw no other signs of camp in the clearing. He didn't care if he was delusional, he was pleased to have a meal. He had eaten so fast an onlooker would have thought he had swallowed the meal whole without so much as chewing. Once he had finished a meal, he heard a rustling in the branches of the trees above. Sitting upon a sturdy branch with a bow in hand in the trees above was an older human with a greying beard and wispy hair. The man introduced himself as Dain, a hunter of game. Dain offered to let Timber accompany him hunting, so long as the tabaxi would assist where able. For Dain, Timber was a chance to pass on his skills before he grew too old to hunt on his own. For Timber, this was an opportunity to truly learn the skills his parents were never able to pass down. For the first year of their partnership, Timber had already managed to refine some of the smaller habits of hunting. He was a brilliant cook of game, and had an eye for using small regional herbs to help accentuate the flavor of whatever the two caught that day. He was excellent at setting small traps, climbing trees, and spotting game before even Dain's trained eyes could track their movement. Dain spent some of this time beginning to teach Timber the art of archery, and he caught on rather quick. The two would stop into a local city or the capital once every few months, selling a collection of hides and various preserved animal parts for coin. Timber used the few times they were in the city to ask around and keep tabs on his fellow survivors. He was able to piece together the location of perhaps half of his old friends, discreetly checking in from afar to make sure they were ok. For Timber's fifteenth birthday, Dain made a special stop in the capital to purchase Timber his very own bow. After that, their partnership was rather short lived. Dain was getting older in years, and decided to settle down back in Sarinan. He made the offer for Timber to join, but they both knew what living in the city was for men like them: prison. Timber felt uncomfortable whenever he slept in a bed, movement restricted by four walls and a roof. So, Timber ended up right where he started: he was alone again at the age of 16. Timber continued to make his living in the woods, felling game and exchanging various skins and hides for goods. For the first time in a long time, Timber felt at peace... but deep down, he had never truly healed. A year ago, Timber received an omen. He found himself the target of a few wolves, which he was able to fell with great difficulty. When the fight was over, all the was left was a single wolf cub pawing at it's dead mother. It looked at Timber with great fear. For a moment, something inside of Timber clicked: The anniversary was a year out, the date promised to be the beginning of their quest for vengeance. But that anger and hatred was gone from Timber's heart. He fed and nurtured the wolf pup, raising it to be his own. He named the pup "Ardie" after the town he was born in. Ardie has grown to be a fine hunter in his own right, and a loyal companion to Timber. |
