<I apologize once more for lack of capitalization in the title, I dont' know what it is but when I use quotes in the title and hit 'preview' it always changes it to lower case..>
Charles A. Pierce:
Nicknames:
Ace, Charley
Age:
28
Gender:
Male
Race:
Human, Quadroon.
Status:
Alive and well, still kickin'. Description
Height:
Six-foot, four.
Weight:
In between one-hundred and sixty pounds to one-hundred and seventy.
Body Type:
Of A slightly thinner mesomorph.
Eyes:
Sea-green.
Hair:
Dark brown.
Skin:
Fair toned skin with a slight farmer's tan.
Markings/Tattoos:
None, at the moment.
Health:
Perfectly healthy.
Personality:
Charles is a deep introvert, always confined to his books and not always open for conversation. Though if he doesn't see you as a threat or knows you, he'll open up vastly. At first sight he'd be hard to gauge on what his emotions are, as he always carries the same neutral, uninterested, and indecisive look about him.
Inventory:
Currently all he would be visibly carrying is a journal with quill and ink.
Further Details: Charles carries an aura which makes it constantly seem as if he has something better to be doing at the moment when talking to people, however it's not always the case that he doesn't have something better to do. For he very may well have something better to be doing. After, if you even do, meet him you may quickly come to the conclusion that you'd have to take Charles' actions and phrasing with a grain of salt. Life Style
Alignment*:
Chaotic Neutral with dips towards the more Lawful Neutral side at times.
Deity*:
The Creator
Religion:
Charles believes in the Creator though nothing more on it, moreover an agnostic.
Alliance/Nation/Home
Unaffiliated with no current home.
Job/Class: He aspires to be a professional writer and/or Magi. Though he only dabbles in the thought of being a mage at the moment, not having decided on what magic branch to choose from.
Title(s): -None
Profession(s) Apart from writing in his spare time, none.
Special Skill(s):
He is able to stab you through and through with a quill! No seriously, he's fairly unspecial at the moment.
Flaw(s):
Charles has a lanky build that will probably never see any true muscle on it, leaving him void for any guard's duty or Mercenary work. He also has knee and ankle problems, suffering from weakness in his right knee and both ankles.
Magic*
<To be left open for future progress.>
Weaponry
Fighting Style:
He has a mean backhand, and can slap you with a book pretty hard-.. No? Not a fighting type? I'll call it "Limp-Noodle-Fu", now it's a fighting style.
Trained Weapon[s]:
Favored Weapon:
Archery: Biography
Parents:
Weylin Pierce, Telia Prior.
Siblings:
None.
Children:
None.
Extended Family:
Elven Aunt and Uncle, Eynisis and Marves.
Pet(s):
None.
History
<Currently this'll just be a copy-pasta from my App. until I further the story.>
Charles was born on a warm night during the season of Sun’s Smile. He was first born to Weylin Pierce and Telia Prior, both were Northerners. His birth was taboo in nature, as both Telia and Weylin were out of wedlock when he was conceived and birthed. His parents were in a flustered hurry to figure out what to do with their new child and came to an abrupt decision that Telia should stay with relatives in the Southeron provinces while Weylin worked his time in the Northern lands, sending back money to pay for his lover and child as often as possible. Telia’s cousins, Eynisis and Marves, were more than willing to allow her to live with them on their property. Happy to lend a hand and happy to be able to see the beauty of a growing child. Charles would live a happy life on his relative’s farmland, receiving tuition in not only writing and mathematics but also the inner-workings of a farm.
Charles was always a curious child, questioning why things are they way they are. Thinking and asking about things that his relatives and mother would never think about. Why the trees turn orange and shed their leaves during the Amber Cold. Why the creatures of the forest act in unison or direct aggression toward each other. Though his family always answered with the same; “That’s just how they’re made, dear.” His thirst for knowledge would always abound with him wherever he’d go in future happenings.
At the age of sixteen he took up a passion for writing and went on to write journals and small books on various subjects he thought were interesting, keeping a multitude of books stacked on the bookshelf in his room. He began to adventure around the farmstead and draw the scenery or animals, as well as keeping stamped flowers and leaves of various sizes, shapes, and colours in his books. Keeping the stamped items with their relative books, of course.
Jump forward four years at the age of twenty, Charles would have gone to progress as an avid writer for the area of the farmstead, the townspeople looking towards him for advice on certain knowledgeable pursuits and teaching those who asked. Though, it wasn’t all glory. On multiple occasions he was made the laughing stock of the town because he didn’t conform to everyone else’s thoughts for what a man should be like. “A man should be strong.” They’d say. “A man should know his way around they field.” They’d chant. Charles tried his best to keep the feelings at bay and not let them get to him, but at times it was too much. He never fully quit what he loves, however. He had times where he took a break, to lessen the pier pressure. Pick up on some other form of artistry, like poetry or instrumentals.
Finally, at the age of twenty-two he left the farmstead on his own accord, dragging his books and personal belongings with him onto a caravan stopping by. They left to travel to Abresi, the capital of Oren, where he hoped to learn from their libraries and the tomes they held. On his way, however they were stopped by an Orc raiding party and made him forfeit his belongings. When he gave up his items the Orcs had laughed and burned the books, taking with them the valuables instead. Charles and the rest of the group got off lucky, seeing as they weren’t kill, but continued to make way for Abresi on foot.
When the caravan finally arrived, Charles made first way to the local Tavern, shoving the library aside for the moment. He continues to stay near Abresi to this day, helping where he can and learning what he may. Mayhaps one day he will finally quench the thirst for knowledge he’s always had.
Artwork
