dandan1350

Daniel smiles faintly as he observes the camp from his perch among the heavy mountain snowfall. Nodding his head and wrapping his cloak round him for further warmth he can only be happy for once that the clerics return to their old ways. No prestigious and elgant homes of riches and silver. Just a simple camp on the roadside, something that all folks could go to for teachings or help. "Perhaps the blade is finally in the right hands.. Perhaps I owe them more support then I am currently giving." Turning his head to the furry brown beast sleeping passively on his shoulder he gives it a small scratch behind the ear before standing with a tired groan as his legs began to unlock. "What do you say, Fredreich? Shall Tahariae give them a new blessing?"

Character Name: Symon Stafyr Nicknames: The Bread God, Bread Count, Sy. Age: 24 Gender: Male Race: Human Status: Alive and healthy. Description: Height: 5'8" - 5'9" Weight: Unknown Body Type: Well-Built. Eyes: Grey Hair: Dark Brown Skin: Average Markings/Tattoos: A small marking on his upper chest remarking a brand of some sort, hidden away from view. Health: Good. Personality: Chipper, friendly. Puts his people before himself and is known as a kind man. Despises violence and conflict. Inventory: Depending, normally a hoe slung over his bow and if not a sturdy bow. Further Details: N/A Life Style: Alignment*: Lawful Good Deity*: Creator Religion: Church of the Canon. Alliance/Nation/Home: Werdenberg. Job/Class: Farmer, Noble Lord Title(s): Lord Symon Stafyr, count of Werdenberg, Furstenburg and the Makers wood. Profession(s): Farming, fletching, baking. Special Skill(s): N/A Flaw(s): Social impotent. Doesn't have a clue how to even. Can barely hold a conversation to save his life. Magic: Current Status: N/A Arch-type: N/A Sub-Type: N/A Rank: N/A Weakness(es): N/A Strength(s): N/A Current Spell(s): N/A Weaponry: Fighting Style:Unknown Trained Weapon[s]: Lance, Sabre, bow. The prior two from his long service in the Gendarme Kaedrin cavalry regiment. Favored Weapon: Sabre. Archery: Solid and effective shot with a bow, prefers long range and still targets instead of fast paced and close quarter ranges. Biography: Parents: Father - Hyrel Stafyr (Deceased) Mother - Jane Stafyr (Alive) Siblings: Sister - Jenette Stafyr (Alive) Brother - Jacob Stafyr (Alive sadly.) Children: HAHAHAHAHAH. Not a chance. Extended Family: -Insert Stafyr family tree here- Pet(s): Thondor, family falcon. History: Symon was raised enclosed within the estate of his wealthy mother and father. They were distant from their family, the father never having much connection with his relatives left with his wife and took up homage within the large estate, its size practically allowing it to self sustain with minor need to leave. This caused Symon to most of the time be shut in and kept away from the outside word, whatever little social interaction was left through his sister, Jenette. Close to his sister through their teachings with their mother he bonded and looked after her when he could the two finding their friendship strong by the end. A drastic effect of his current attitude and behavior towards the world. During his time shut away, Symon was nurtured and cared for by his mother, raised and taught activities often uncommon for most men to learn such as baking and minor medicine, hardly worthy to call himself a healer he was taught simple appliance of bandages and the importance of cleansing wounds. He was also brought up with a strong education, sacrificing his brawn for brain as he was taught history, politics, etiquette of his noble heritage and many other sections of knowledge. Unaware that was was not natural behavior for most males he accepted his learning however he did become curious of Jakob, his oldest brothers actions. Jakob was taught different subjects, learning martial abilities, military strategies, how to swing a punch and wield a blade, his wisdom lacking somewhat for his physical teachings. Nothing Symon was ever taught nor even hinted towards learning, thus it left him both cautious and curious of the different treatment between the brothers and his small rebellious streak within his teenage years began. Turning from the quiet boy who would follow his mothers every word, quoting her when Jakob messed up on tasks and other such things he was considered a complete ‘mummas boy’ and picked on by his oldest brother for that. His actions began to grow strange his normal quiet self, seeking out many of the male workers about the estate and asking them of their jobs and duties within the estate. Learning one by one with each opinion he got that what he was being taught was uncommon for him to learn leaving him in turn even more curious on the matter. Finally his first outburst towards his mother began, during one of his learning sessions he began to frequently question the point to all this stating the duties of most men within the manor and demanding an answer for her actions, he received none. Again, still a child he kept on with his rebellious streak as he would escape and miss his mothers lessons, sneaking out into the small farms and fields and asking to work with the folk on the fields. Denied at first for fear of what the family would say to them they sent the young master away and back to his classes, thus leaving him even more frustrated. After many more weeks of his constant fretting about his treatment and turning to each and every worker within the estate he finally found his answer lying in an older man of around seventy, clearly one who has spent his years of hard labour and the first of any not to turn away Symon as he asked his questions. Instead the man for whatever reason simply nodded and agreed, he took Symon in and taught him the two subjects he knew so well: Farming and Architecture. An odd combination but once the old man had finished the construction of the estate he had been tasked with he had taken retirement of that line of work and taken up a hoe within his achievement, continuing to work for the lord and lady of the estate. Weeks passed, soon after months and then years. All this time Symon took in the knowledge and information fed to him by the veteran labourer, sneaking away from his parents ever watchful eye when he could and his passion for farming was soon set. During this time he was taught many methods of farming, how to uproot potatoes and where best to cut at the wheats stalk followed by rules and tips of architecture, how to design stable buildings and after he had developed a small knack for it, more unique building styles. Along with such the old man taught him the basic methods of hunting, only verbally, never daring to take the young master out into such dangers. Merely how one would skin, where one would shoot to end the deer or bucks life quickly. Two years past of this teaching, Symons attitude never changed besides a slight cheer and spring to his step as finally someone was willing to listen and teach him. However eventually the time came about where Symon was no longer happy with the agreement and spoke to his ‘mentor’ on finally going out on a hunt, his was denied quickly but told to go ask his father on the matter and see what he said. His father, rather reluctantly agreed to take him out once away from the walls and out into the outlying forests, thus giving Symons first opportunity to leave the estates walls. The hunt was short lived, drastic if anything. Symons first experience ruined by a terrible occurrence. Meant simply to be hunting small foxes and a deer if they were lucky to stumble across one the dogs noses had brought them to something they had not expected. A heavy, scarred and violent mother, a boar with scimitar like tusks. The small conflict between the hunting party was simple, the hounds rounded it as his father took point to hide away Jakob and Symon from the maternal boar. It charged, the horse reared and their father was thrown from his saddle. A cry of pain fleeing through the depths of the forest as the fallen lord of the estate was pierced with one of the heavy tusks and thrown away to the side like a mere ragdoll. The hounds becoming rabid at their masters attacked, arrows flying loose from the few guardsmen that accompanied them but they did little to the thick hide only causing it to flee from the many and into the depths of the forests. Symon was left horrified, caught in a frozen trance on his fathers near lifeless corpse as the guardsmen ran to his side quickly lifting and setting himself up onto a horse. A week past now as their father fought the wounds but ultimately passed, sending their mother into a distressed depression and leaving the boys in the hands the workers at the estate. Time passed and the depression showed no sign of living, soon the two decided they were of age now to take on their own decisions and leave the imprisonment of the estate. Taking note of the main Stafyr branch families home they took a letter signed by their father many winters ago and set off on their journey. Soon the land of Anthos fell and their search was concluded as they were forced into the fringe and quickly found the settlement of Werdenberg. From there on out Symon was introduced back into the main branch and treated like family happily by the others, his anxiety and nervous stutter sometimes earning him mocking comments but he persevered. Winters once again passed, his life boring and stale until finally the day came when a sudden announcement was made. Farley II. the previous and late lord of Stafyr had seen fit to retire from his position and hand it down to the closest member in line - Symon. The news left him confused and shocked, thrown into a world of nobility and politics so suddenly upon his arrival. From there on out his journey began as he explored the many ventures of Orenian noble life. Artwork: SoonTM

Symon blinks, looking down to his blueprints then up again. "I built this.."