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____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ THE BURNING OF WHITEHALL ____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ I: THE GLUTTONY IN DARK One hundred minas. Seax. Father’s old gambeson. Scarf. Favorite fur hat, woven by mother. Silent as a fox, the pig-nosed, chubby young lad prepared this bundle of small possessions in the dim light of the slowly dying hearth fire set by mother. Enough was enough, and Milonir of Whitehall could tolerate no more. Tomorrow was going to be the biggest day of little Milonir’s life. He would prove to his father and everyone who laughed at him that he was a real man, and a true warrior. Papa would see, they’d all see. But now was the time rest. Not without second supper, of course. See, it had been a habit of Milonir’s for the last few years to collect a second serving of supper after mother and father had fallen asleep. They certainly knew, on account of young Milonir’s drastic weight gain. Mother, at least, said little about it. Father on the other hand, was not so silent about his disdain for Milonir’s weight, and often made sport of the subject. Vegetable soup again. He had done this a million times; harking the leftovers and cleaning plates when no one was looking. Perhaps it was because it was late, or perhaps he was too comfortable with his habit. Milonir, careless as he was, had managed to knock over the pot of soup. While this alone would be cause for some small concern, the loss of second dinner was not what caused the horrified expression overtaking his visage. ____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ II: THE FOOL OF FLAME He had not only managed to spill his second dinner, but a number of coals too at the base of father’s clan tapestry. And to punish him for his gluttony, gods beyond his control saw it fit that the tapestry was to be set ablaze before he could act. Milonir could only stare in panicked horror as the tapestry that had been in his father’s clan for generations was devoured by intense, contagious flames. What could he do against such an enraged flame? The blaze would claim not only this prized tapestry, but now soared to the thatching of their home. The thatch house began to cough sparks in all directions like an angry blacksmith pounding away at an anvil. Growing, growing, growing. Completely optionless, despaired Milonir hurried out of the shabby little thatch home as fast as his pubescent legs would take him. It was surprising in this state that he was even able to manage that. A good distance away from the home, Milonir froze in abject, paralyzing horror at the sight before him. Everything he knew, all of his memories, and his very childhood were set ablaze in the inferno. His family raggedly stumbled outside, awoken from the commotion and smoke. Mother and father, covered in ash and coughing, doggedly made for Milonir’s side. Mother, through her infinite love, appeared confused, betrayed, completely heartbroken. Father’s expression told a different story. The bleeding emotions of righteous rage, betrayal, and a satisfying confirmation that he was right gripped his visage. The family blade gripped within his white knuckles told it all. No words were exchanged, yet Milonir squeaked “No, no,” barely mustering the words. ____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ III: THE COWARD'S WAY OUT Panic overtook him, and Milonir backed away from his kin, like a desperate, cornered animal. Run. All he could do was run. With his bundle of possessions under his armpit, Milonir escaped into the pale, cold moonlight. Not stopping to look back at the product of his foolishness, Milonir noticed a much brighter orange glow out of the corner of his eye. Whitehall burned. His legs carried him as far as they would. Echoes throughout the valley could be heard; panicked voices familiar to Milonir, and the thundering masses of timber that fell in on themselves. They slowly dissipated until all was silent and dark. Run. ____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Whitehall burns. ____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ IV: THE ACCIDENT It was an accident. He didn’t mean it. What had he done? It wasn’t his fault. He didn’t mean for this to happen. Young Milonir had proven to Whitehall that their words were right. That Milonir was exactly what they said he was. A useless, fat pile of shit. Reality set in. Milonir stopped only to vomit the vegetable soup he had eaten earlier. Everything he knew and loved was ripped from him that night. He was alone in the dark forest, left with nothing. All he could do was keep running until dawn broke. The bustle of Haense lie before him. A new day. Milonir would make this right. Not today. Not tomorrow. Not in a year, or even ten. But he would make it right. He swore it. He swore it a million times. Milonir would right the wrongs of the past.
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Name: Sirari Aeraendsyr Race: One half Mali'aheral, one half Mali'ame Age: 123 Appearance: Pale skin and long ears such as that of a high elf, but her jet black hair gives away the fact that she is an "impure" and truthfully has wood elven heritage. Her eye's are bright green and she normally have a patient and smiling face. She's 5'2 in height. Personality: Kind and caring towards everyone, even those that aren't kind to her. Has a secret admiration towards pure high elves. She loves nature and respects the Gods and follows Aspectism, but doesn't look down on the beliefs and practices of others-- excluding dark magic. Often lies by telling others she is fully Mali'ame, due to a fear of being judged or killed. If they ask about her pale skin, she usually blames in on staying inside too much. Back story: "I grew up in the forests of Laureh'lin with both my parents. Life was always peaceful in the presence of all the refreshing green leaves that we were taught to appreciate and nurture. My family deeply followed the teachings of the Aspects and we would regularly visit shrines to pray and give offerings to the god of the hunt, and the goddess of life. My father was always looked down upon by fellow Mali'aheral, and was thought to be a fool for wedding to a 'dirty wood elf' and having an impure child. Still, he was patient and didn't let these insults hinder him from loving his small family and worshiping Cernunnos and Cerridwen. They did their best to take care of me growing up. Mother would stay home and educate me while father had business building homes in the trees for new residents of Laureh'lin. Being unsatisfied with the way they were living, it came to the point where they wanted to show their devotion to the gods even more. They left me behind to join the an unknown seed in very far away forests. I watched as they walked hand in hand together into the woods, disappearing from my life. Ever since the day they started on their journey to become closer to the Aspects, I had wanted nothing more than to go with them and live in the seed they were part of, or perhaps become a powerful druid and create my own seed where my family could join. Together we would show all of the land the greatness of the Gods. Despite this, I stayed put in the only home I knew. I know this is what my parents thought was best for me. Mother's family took care of me and kept me safe harms way. There were still times where I would find myself being threatened by high elves who would sometimes threaten to throw me in acid to cleanse me of my 'impurity'. One time I had asked my uncle if it were okay to dye my hair blond so that I could pass off as full Mali'aheral. 'Be proud of who you are.' is all he said, and I listened to him. Well into adulthood I still found myself constantly thinking of my parents and the wisdom would spread. I was sure they were now finally happy, living in their own little clan full of other elves who believed in the same values as they did. I decided it was finally time to go out and find them, show them I'm worthy to be with them and help retain the ancient teachings. Ignored my kin that told me it would be a better idea to stay where I am and find my own path in life, I ventured into the open wild forests alone. I had no belongings with me besides a sack full of berries and the clothes on my back. As I walked deeper and deeper into the forest for hours on end, I became frightened of that thought that I would never find them. I really had no idea where I was going and was now completely lost. I wouldn't even know my way back to Laureh'lin from there. The isolation around me felt endless. Caught up in my anxiety, I become spooked by the sound of a small nearby creature and frantically started to run through the forest, jumping over rocks and dodging around trees as fast as I could muster. Unluckily for me, I was stopped by a low-lying branch that struck me in the forehead. Some time later I woke up on a docked boat and was completely disoriented. I didn't know how I got where I was, and I also couldn't remember who I was.. Amnesia from the massive blow to my head. I climbed off the boat the began to wander aimlessly around, when I quite literally bumped into a high elf who happened to be in the same location as I. He was carrying a basket of golden eggs, that all broke when we collided, but luckily he was very kind and understanding towards me. He even gave me a place to reside in his basement until I recovered from my memory loss and started again on my own path. Although,.. now I don't know where that path may lead." (Hoping to get more art for her another time. She looks miserable and you can't see her ears. :<)
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((Concept Art by Selenada on DA)) Full Name: Renée Marie de Aryn Gender: Female Age: 25 Race: Human BIOGRAPHY Renée was born to Thomas and Klara de Aryn on the 16th of the Amber Cold, 1529 in Kaedrin. As a child, Renée was a very active and engaging child - she always ran about with her cousin Vivienne, played with her dollies, and enjoyed being read to. As she grew, Renée retained many childish attributes and had fits of anger. Worried for his daughter, Thomas consulted many doctors and nothing could be found physically wrong with her. Finally he decided to send her away to a private tutor and nurse who could care for her - he thought she might be stressed in their busy home and he secretly felt a bit embarrassed of his daughter. Often when the family had company, Renée had to be put in her room and closely guarded so she would not disturb the others. After a few years of living privately, Renée returned at the age of seventeen to her father’s barony of Virdain. Seemingly mostly cured of her previous afflictions, they are replaced with others, though they are a bit more inconspicuous. During this time, she also took it upon herself to write "The Dove Maiden Letters," a small series of three anonymous letters meant to be her own thoughts in a world where speaking them publicly would not be proper for her to do. She only wrote three letters, after being exposed as the Dove Maiden by Gwyndolyn Warlai. In a strange turn of events, she was baptised in Krajia and declared a Raevir. She was given the name Rozaliya “Roza” Tomasovich and had many adventures and also many close calls - such as her run in with orcs or her escape from a raid. As requested by Lord Denis de Bar, she has returned to Virdain. Now she spends her days frequenting other Houses of Oren and writing within the confines of her old manor-home. PERSONALITY Age 17: Innocent Spacey Random Religious Curious Naive Caring Age 25: Innocent Religious Stressed Curious Caring Less trusting than in her earlier years AFFLICTIONS/SYMPTOMS* Vivid dreams Obsessively writes/carries a journal. Sometimes she writes incoherent words rather than actual entries Is prone to hyperventilation and episodes when distressed Wanders and sometimes forgets why she is there Habitually only wears white dresses OCCASIONALLY laughs and cries at inappropriate times OCCASIONALLY talks about things not pertaining to the conversation VERY OCCASIONALLY speaks or mumbles to herself *She is not violent, insane, or incapable of understanding. She is a functioning human being who suffers from very mild mental dysfunctions. (AKA, she is not meant to be used as an excuse to troll or divulge important information to outsiders.) APPEARANCE Thin build, height (5’ 8”) weight (127 lbs) Pale skin Strawberry-blonde hair (curly, wild, long) Hazel eyes Only wears white dresses ART AND SKIN THEME SONG
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[OOC] Just going to drop this here to help me organize my character's information. Feel free to leave comments, questions, or RP requests. :) Biography: Giarc Rekedens [The Forth] is the son to Giarc and Marena Rekedens. Ever since his father died in war before Giarc was born, his mother kept him safe living in Gimblewood, a quiet halfling town. His mother was a halfling but he do not have any halfling traits. Giarc did not have any proper schooling because they were poor, but he did learn to read and loves to learn. They recently moved to a small town called Redwood where they are living a new peaceful life as peasants. While Giarc is not familiar with the area and it's politics, he is learning the farm trade. He loves to work and is dedicated to anything he puts his mind to. He would like to someday like to make a living owning a shop or inn, have a farm, and breed animals. Description: Appearance: 6', 23 years old, medium/stocky build Traits: Shy, simple, extremely loyal, hard-worker Down-falls: not overly strong, weak social skills, weak political and cultural knowledge Professions: Farming & fishing Interests: Reading Jobs: Farmer for Duchy of Courland Farmer for Karduin Trading Company Timeline: ??? - Previous history lost in the Fall of Asulon 1436 - Giarc Rekedens II born 1479 - Giarc Rekedens III born 1481 - Giarc Rekedens II dies in the Holy Oren Empire rebellion. 1516 - Giarc Rekedens III dies in war. Giarc Rekedens IV born 1539 - Present Updated 12/29/15
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------------------------------------------- Character Information For Talia D'Avre ----------------------------------------------------------------------- Name - Talia D'Avre Race - Half-Elf/Adunian Gender - Female Married - No Age - 43 Birth-date - 3rd of the Grand Harvest Parents - Zaviel (Draen D'Avre) (Elf), Charlotte D'Avre (Human). Relatives Arelin (squeak0711) - Asher (spiffytaylor411), Roy D'Avre (B3ast_mod), Beltran (BathRugMan), and Lorien (hugothechamp). (Some others missing) God-Parents - Jakir StepFather - Ramza Mantisuku StepMother - Elvi Mantisuku -------CHARACTER WHAT'S UP SO FAR THING------- De-Paralyzed. She is weak though, must train to get better. -------REVAMPED CHARACTER INFORMATION------- VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV - Description - Talia a Half-Elf or Adunian you might say, born to the late Charlotte D'Avre and the still alive Draen D'Avre. She seems to get sick every now and then, random chills/colds/stomach-bugs and fevers climbing to an alarming high rate. Most of the time she would have a quarter-staff strapped to her back, but not /all/ the time. - Appearance - She has 75% more Elvish traits about her then human traits, which makes her look almost as fair as an Elf. Her body shape seems pretty fit all in all, and her very long black hair falls over her face and all down her back to the waist line, it seems to cover most of her face sometimes, though her smile would be seen every now and then. Her eyes would be a light green color, her skin would be a very light tan. Oh, and if you look hard enough she seems to have a somewhat sliced right ear. She looks 20 years younger than her actually age, interesting. (5,10ft) A small burn mark hard to see is on the lower part of her neck, that in the shape of a skull. No piercings or rings of any kind found anywhere on her. - Outfit - Most of the time she wears a rather pleasant white dress with some sort of blue long over-dress jacket thrown over top. Yet you look upon it and it is simply gorgeous, the needle-work must have taken a long time to make a dress as good as this, the brass buttons themselves are engraved with little images, some flowers and others animals. Sometimes she is training in some green robes that fit pretty well, they are roughly made but are light and easy to move around in, though its hard to see with the hood up. - Personality - She speaks in a low mumblish tone, in a fearful and nervous way. If being confronted about something she did wrong she wouldn't want to look you in the eyes, and would hang her head low. She gets REALLY nervous/shy if there are many people her 'her' age, especially men, for some reason youn feel rather inclinded to talking to a post rather then her from just the way she listens to you. Tends to want sleep, a lot. She is somewhat good with children, as long as they behave. Highly emotional sad and serious hidden under a vial of cute jollyness mixed with a sarcastic temper. Talks a bit rudely sometimes around people she doesn't know, she can be nice if you are though, but if you are mean you better believe she will be down right cold with you. - Main Skill - She is a quarter-staff master, tier 3 so look out, this lady has some mad skill if you tick her off. - Secondary Main Skill - Pressure point self defense as she calls it, be warned; "If you are not wearing any armor or some kind of armor that isn't covering certain places she will move to try and pinch or poke one of your pressure points, when this happens rarely you fall down, most of the time you are stunned and feel like some kind of shock went through your body. - Additional Skills - Another two skills would be taking care of animals, she finds herself surprisingly good at it. The next skill would be very low class medic, she isn't much good at it but she wants to work on this skill to perfect it. - Likes/Dislikes - She likes spicy food(Though she can still eat normal food.), she also likes Khas, she likes dueling, she likes kind people, and she likes all her relatives. She dislikes bullies, she dislikes ANYTHING sweet, she dislikes people that ask her about her past family life. - Greatest Fear - Losing someone very dear to her, and then regretting it to the point where she wants to die. -End of given character information- But, not the end of Character Pictures 4/5. - Talia Render/Pose by _Zer0 - Character sketch of Talia by B3Ast_Mod - Talia in her light blue dress. http://gyazo.com/f31bde0bf98d07585d083afd4d783cb9 - Talia in her training robes. http://gyazo.com/42132dcdffaf142ea843a0ac39b57e89 -Now we are done.- Character Information update No. #12
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-------------------------------------- Name: Charlotte Golding Race: Human Age: 16 Gender: Female Skill: Promising Alchemist ------------------------------------------------------ Charlotte Golding, an apprentice Alchemist, and expert knife thrower (So she thinks…) ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Description: 95lbs, 5,3ft. Average woman build, no muscular build. She is friendly to those who show kindness, but a great enemy to liers. She is studying in Alchemy. WARNING: Charlotte Golding has many tricks up her sleeves, and secrets also, be careful what you say/do around her. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Long Story Short: Charlotte Golding was born in to a small family of four, her late mother Sarah E. Golding and father Peter Golding, but her older sister Annabella Makrov Golding still lives. Sadly, Charlotte's late mother died in giving birth to her, in so doing her father remarried, but the stepmother was darker than darkness... When she turned three the family found out that their uncle William A. Golding who was a blacksmith, had died from burning after a hot pot iron liquid tipped over, he was no more after that day. He left a great some of money as an inheritance to Charlotte's father, so that she and her sister, and stepmother could live very wealthy indeed, though the stepmother thought otherwise. She wanted the Inheritance money for herself. A year or so after the death of Charlottes uncle, her father one evening at tea time died…little did we know our stepmother put a tablet of poison in his glass of hot tea, Charlotte and her sister only guessed it was heart failure. The stepmother of course agreed with them, trying to cover up her guilt. They buried their father in a a church grave yard a few days later. The very next day Charlotte's and stepmother awaked them and announced that they were going going on a trip. About a week later they came to a large forest, fence, cold, and lonely, and they went in. Then the stepmother sighed and said: "We are lost, wait here while I try to find a way out." And so she left them. Some hours later Annabella was getting worried and walked with Charlotte through the woods till they came to a hollow tree, there she said: "Charlotte, stay inside here, I am going to look for stepmother." Then she walked off where she thought her stepmother went. Charlotte waited and waited, it seemed like hours maybe a day…but Annabella did not return. So Charlotte climbed out of the hollow tree and from there on wondered around the wilderness, till one day or maybe it was a year, she couldn't tell. She found what looked like a small village, and lived there for another four years begging. About six months later, a great famine was spreading through the land. Soon there was no point in begging anymore, so she set off from that town and started for the Elven city, she was told by a kind merchant that there she would find help, so it was. CHARACTER PHOTO COMING SOON.
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What’s your character called?: - Sevran Bowstring What race are they (and sub-race)?: - Human , northerner What sex are they?: - Male How old are they?: - 23 Give us a brief description of their life - their story, childhood, family (Include server lore when writing): Sevran never really knew where he came From. His father always said that he was found as a baby on the streets of Arethor. his father who was called Greylum lived on the edge of Hanseti.He was a hunter and his mother was a weaver. Sevran had 2 brothers one went missing when Sevran was seven, and his other brother who was called Malex was a soldier and died fighting the undead . That meant Sevran was alone with his mother and father most all the time. When Sevran was 8 his father tought him to hunt and climb and when he was ten his father would let him go hunt with him. Sevran was a natural with a bow and arrow and could take down big and small animals. The Undead attacked when Sevran was 16 and Sevran left in hope to find a better life somewhere else. What are they like (personality)?: - Happy, brave, determined, daring. What are their ambitions?: - To find fortune and a better life in a different city Do they have any special skills?: - Natural with a bow and arrow and a great climber What are their weaknesses?: - has many flashbacks of the plague hates undead Give us a description of how they look (not a screenshot yet!)?: - Normal human size has brown hair, white skin and brown eyes (he looks the same as my skin)
