Registration thread: version 3.0 - Raveran 1114

Re: Registration thread: version 3.0 - Raveran 1114

Postby Improbable odds » Sun Jan 13, 2013 6:37 pm

Name: Nathan Fulton

Race: Goblin (Halme)

Age: 47

Equipment: Nathan has had a chance to resettle into a new life, and the things he possesses have changed to suit his new existence. While he is now a mostly permanent fixture in the city, he still carries many things he possessed when he first arrived in the city, these include:

His longbow, a nearly 6 foot tall bow from one tip to the other made of sturdy yew wood cut from a single yew tree and likely carved by hand, the bow remains un-stringed unless he intends to use it to prevent the bow from setting. The draw strength is close to 100 pounds making the weapon unsuitable for those lacking the strength and practice using it, though it has quite amazing penetrating power and distance. Due to his tedious relationship with those members of the Kyorl’Solenurn of Val’Reveran (some of them, anyway) he has agreed to never carry this or any other weapon within the city, though he is permitted to take them to the surface if he has business there, though written permission is required.

10 arrows in a leather quiver, these are special in that they appear to have steel tips he likely bartered from the caravan traders he so frequently dealt with

A skinning knife made of iron, this is really more of a tool than a weapon, but if need be he would fight with this.

His old sword remains just as charred and blackened as it had been when he pulled it from the smoldering ruins of his home, though now it sits atop his mantle in his home. The old ruined blade is hardly fit for combat and is little more than a memento of times gone past.

A tannery and workshop: While this is hardly something Nathan can carry about on his person it would be remiss to not speak about the business which Nathan owns and runs. Aptly named ‘Nathan’s Boots and Bows’ this small workshop on the very edge of the bazaar is a quaint yet busy shop mainly with the many travelers, merchants, and select clan members of the local area. The shop sits apart due to the rather foul smell that comes from the large vats that sit outside the side of the building, filled with either urine or semi-rotten pelts already in the process of being cured. The occasional foul smell aside the building is rather inviting, quaint in the way only a single old Halme could make it.

Among popular products are Nathan’s famous hobnailed leather boots. These boots are made vastly more durable by the addition of small iron nails used to keep the sole and leather together by the addition of several rows of tacks. Many travelers prefer these to spidersilk by virtue of solid construction and almost unsurpassed durability, though the price is slightly steeper due to the cost of importing actual leather. Another type of boot, far less common, are the maile and leather boots in the similar style, fitted with high tops interlaced with maile armor, made for those who often see mounted combat. Both of these styles of footwear fall under the term of ‘Jackboot’ and Nathan is more than happy to craft or mend any the customer demands.

Far less common in sale however is the item that sets Nathan apart from the local human craftsmen, the longbow. Amongst those in the city only the Ailee'khevlani and Nathan manufacture the exotic longbow, and Nathan is the only unaffiliated manufacturer. While Nathan’s woodcraft isn’t quite up to par with the many master craftsmen the Ailee’Khevlani posess his bows are still praised for being reliable, well-crafted weapons, and many a time Nathan has had visitors from the many clans of the city, asking him to furnish them a bow or to give advice on how to improve one’s bowcraft. This had granted him ties to the clan of woodcrafters and craftsmen, with whom he hopes he shares a bond of mutual respect.

Among the things Nathan carries with him on any given day are:
4 Ada
His clothing: a set of brown dyed silk trousers and a white silk shirt, along with a pair of his own leather boots. Other items include a brown silk vest and a leather belt.
A small magnifying lens, used in the inspection and appraisal of small objects.
Occasionally he may have a chunk of bread or some similar foodstuff, though most of these mundane items remain at his workshop/home.

Skills: Nathan is a skilled hunter and tracker of game on the surface, easily able to track all but the most elusive of beasts. Given how much practice he has had during his 12 years of hunting he is also a capable archer, though he hasn’t faced actual combat in nearly 12 years. He can also skin, tan and prepare hides and pelts, speak the tongue of the Drow with some measure of fluidity and carve and cook meats of various kinds. He was once also trained with the use of a blade and in wearing armor, though these skills are far out of practice. In 15 years there have been only minor changes to the old Halme’s set of skills, including a sharp rise in the quality and quantity of pelts and leather the now old man can process, and a definite rise in the quality of the bows he now produces. His speech has also improved considerably, given 15 years of living within the city of Val’Reveran.

Magic: Not Applicable

Beginning city: Val'Raveran

Clan: Not Applicable

Background: Nathan Fulton was born to a small agrarian family outside the city of Haltonreibe some 32 years ago during a particularly harsh summer. He would grow up knowing the life of a peasant farmer, aiding his father and mother in their small fields in hopes that they might grow enough food to survive. Year after year he did this, constantly feeling constrained and bothered by his way of life. He hated it, being stuck in this tiny farmstead and unable to go out and see the vast world around him, but the world was already dangerous enough for him here. He would survive raider and bandit attacks, waves of various illnesses that swept through the Halme population and even serious injury all before his 17th birthday, at which time his life changed with the arrival of a mercenary group to his local area. They claimed to be free men of any race, and indeed they even had orcs and Emberi among their ranks, and that they were offering the chance to join to any man able to handle himself. Nathan didn’t even bother to tell his parents what he was doing before he left, taking with him only what he could carry in a linen bag. He had joined up with the predominantly Halme mercenary group the “Free corps”, setting off with them as soon as they left the area. This particular group of mercenaries never numbered more than 20 men at any time, though for a group of Goblins they were a surprisingly well disciplined lot. They were taught to never steal or otherwise rob from the local populace of the area they were in at any given time, nor were they allowed to engage in any sort of banditry or rape. The Free Cops did not accept known criminals, deserters, or the insane among their ranks as was the policy set down by the charismatic head of the lot, an aging Halme man that must have been into his 50’s by the time Nathan joined up. It would be this man whom Nathan would attach himself to over the course of his three years or work and travel, learning his sense of duty and responsibility from him. He looked up to this man like a quasi-father figure, and he was always eager to learn another lesson whenever he had the time away from his duties. Unfortunately his time would be cut short as the head of the Free Corps would be slain during a job to protect a Halme caravan heading south to a known trading outpost, a spear piercing his chest and killing him atop his horse. This left him at a crossroads, as many events had unfolded at this time during his life. He had met a woman, the daughter of a hunter from a Northern village whom was set to give birth to his daughter within two or three months, and the new man to take charge of the Free Crops was none other than the prior heads son, a young and greedy man with whom honor and responsibility held no real place. Within the first month of him taking power the Free corps had already swelled its ranks with criminals and other goblin low-lives, slowly turning more into a group of hired bandits than a well-organized mercenary corps. It was then that Nathan took his leave along with many other of his senior fellows, unable to continue to serve under such a foul leader. Nathan took his spouse and headed North, away from civilization for the time being.

He would settle in the heavily forested area North of Haltonreibe, not far away from his spouse’s village. It would be here that he would build a home for his family and begin his business of hunting and trapping the various local game. While for the first year or so he struggled to maintain his family and his home he was blessed to have his daughter be born without complications and he would begin to establish his contacts within the Drow caravan world. It was a simple arrangement for the most part, Nathan hunted the many beasts and animals of the forests, taking the meat and the pelts to various trading posts to the South in order to barter for various goods, including Ada, eventually steel to be made into arrow-tips, and foods he couldn’t acquire on his own. It was a beneficial relationship with the strange race of dark skinned men and women, at least to them as they got access to a variety of otherwise difficult to obtain pelts and meats to be shipped to various large settlements. What he really gained out of this however was the ability to communicate with his Drow trading partners, a skill he is still learning after 12 years of sustained contact with them. This ability to converse often catches many off guard, as very few expect a Halme to be able to speak to them in any real efficiency. Not all contact is so friendly however, as numerous times Nathan has had to talk down various raiding parties from simply killing or enslaving him and his family. His usual reasoning is that he is better off up here, acquiring things that only a hunter who knows the area can acquire. That isn’t to say that he doesn’t frequently receive visits and pay his weight in goods to his raider ‘friends’ but he had managed to avoid any direct conflict.

The years would go by and Nathan would acquire a reputation among the various local towns and trading outposts as a capable hunter and tracker, numerous times being called upon to hunt specific animals that may be causing trouble to local farmers or specific beasts that a caravan might have held an interest in. He also made a small side income as a guide, as he had a fairly solid grasp of the local terrain and the roads that lead to various cities and settlements. It would be during this 12 year span of relative peace that his son would be born, just two years after his daughter, both of whom had the luxury of growing up in a place generally free of sickness (due largely in part to his separation from large Halme settlements). He did his best to educate his children, teaching them how to hunt and how to take care of themselves along with how to communicate with the Drow when he felt they were old enough to begin learning a second language. It was difficult for him to teach them however as Nathan himself held no measure of formal education, he was unable to read or write and his speech skills were mostly self-taught. His daughter however would prove to be a quick learner, easily comprehending everything he had to teach her. Nathan maintained this peaceful life for 12 years as best as he could alongside his wife, that was until recently when he returned from what he assumed to be an average hunting expedition…

Having been gone on a typical one week stint hunting game Nathan returned home to find his homestead ransacked, his home burned to ashes and all the material goods of value pillaged. It took him hours to sift through the wreckage to find the bodies of his wife and son. They were charred corpses; he was hardly even able to recognize the face of his spouse and the mother of his children. It took him nearly an hour to recover enough from his grief to begin burying their bodies, somberly digging using whatever charred wood he could find that was suitable for the task. After he said his goodbyes he began picking through the ruins to see if he could learn what had occurred, and more so to see if he could find any clues pertaining to his daughter. He judged from the numerous sets of armored footprints that there had been at least 4 attackers though he could not determine what race they were. They had taken everything of value, pelts and stored food and even his small savings of Ada, presumably heading south. Gathering up what he could, including his old blade and whatever Ada he could pick out from the ruins of his home Nathan set himself on the trail of whoever had done this. Nathan was not out for blood, revenge was an entirely secondary objective for the Halme hunter rather he needed to find his daughter and these men were as good a group as any to question about her. For over a week he has traveled, keeping a quick pace as he does his best to try and make up for the many days head start this group has on him. He is a Halme on a mission, a mission to find and make sure his daughter his safe. His search has brought him to the city of Val’Raveran where the trail from the wilderness goes cold. It is here he must work to find the next bits of a trail that may or may not have already gone cold. Still he does not give up hope of finding her.

15 years in Reveran

Much has happened to Nathan in 15 years, and most all of it has been incredibly trying and wounding on the now old man. While 15 years ago Nathan was brought to Reveran on the trail of his daughter he has since stayed and become a permanent fixture in the city, and has even established himself with an (in)famous reputation.

15 years ago Nathan was reunited with his daughter Vanessa after a group of Kyorl’Solenurn assisted him in attaining the girl’s freedom from the slave auction that held her as a commodity. While he was overjoyed at the safe return of his daughter he knew his reunion would be short lived. For a short time the pair remained together, quite content to simply be reunited even if in a foreign land so far from the home they once knew, but Nathan had already begun to tug at the few strings he knew remained in his effort to provide his daughter with a life he felt she deserved. His answer would come in his old friend and Illhar’dro caravan master Janessa, whom had been one of his first friends amongst the strange dark skinned fae who had come to dominate his life. It had been she who had taught him the Drow language, and she who had helped him over his many years as a trader. Nathan however required one last thing from her, a meeting with the woman she worked for, an influential and well to do Illhar’dro merchant house owner, the same woman she worked for. While the meeting was arranged at some difficulty Nathan had his audience, and his proposal proved quite shocking. Nathan begged the woman to take his daughter and to educate her, to provide her with the things he professed he could not. While the poor girl waited just outside Nathan dropped to his knees and begged the woman, whom had expressed her doubt that any goblin could prove remotely useful in such a capacity, despite the testimony on both Nathan and Vanessa’s honor, intelligence and character from Janessa. Perhaps it had been fate that the woman had a daughter of similar age whom she was currently looking for a servant for, or perhaps it was a sense of pity for the scruffy goblin that groveled at the foot of her desk, but she agreed to take the girl. She would be her daughter and heir’s second, her watchful guardian, her dutiful attendee and in return she would be compensated (albeit only a pittance) and given a proper education. The agreement was struck, however, at a great cost to Nathan. He was forbidden from visiting his daughter and she would only be released if her 20 year service period came to an end or she was killed, and she would be expected to endure the somewhat harsh treatment befitting a human in fae society. While she would be allowed to send things out to her father, especially proof that she could write as was part of their agreement, Nathan would also be expected to compensate the Illhar’dro for their generosity, and the price of his payments was steep indeed. However Nathan accepted, and that day he waved goodbye to his daughter once more, knowing it was all he could do to provide he with a chance to be something more than he could ever hope to lift he up to be. What crushed him more was the sudden departure of the Ill’hardro from Reveran, odd to another city which he couldn’t follow them to. This turn of events broke his heart and sent him into a slump he wouldn’t come out of for nearly 15 years.

The next major event that Nathan would find himself intertwined into was the Second Demon Invasion, and this would be the time when the legends and misconceptions of Nathan Fulton would rise to prominence in the minds of some of Reveran’s residents. As demons poured into Reveran Nathan found himself lucky to have made it out of the affected area in time, having worked odd jobs ever since the departure of the Illhar’dro so many years before. This mostly itinerate goblin had drifted around the city for years, always working any odd job he could find. From stable cleaner to guide for wealthy fae who wished to see the surface there were few jobs, sans killing, Nathan would not do. When the city was overrun by demons however he had been lucky to be on the outskirts, though he knew many had not been so fortunate. For hours he sat at the edge of the afflicted area, sealed off by barricades and armored men and women working to contain the foul invaders into a manageable position. For hours, days he waited, listening to the screams of dying a tainted people, watching tainted commoners and locals be cut down where they stood, or be ravaged by demons. He sat and he watched until he couldn’t take it anymore, until his disgust and revulsion were so great and his spirit so broke that he stirred into action.

From the reports given at the time Nathan’s first involvement in the demon invasion came when he approached a lone Koyrl’Solenurn sentry at one of the entrances into the infested area of the city, only to be immediately stopped by the man, more of a boy really, who demanded he move away from the gate.

“I can’t” Nathan replied as he faced down the guard with a grim look only a man of the world could have.

“I can’t sit by and listen to the screams anymore. I can’t, or maybe I just won’t. I had a family once you know, a beautiful wife and out two children. They were taken from me while I was away. Every night when I go to sleep all I can dream of is what it must have been like for them when they were killed. All I can imagine is their screams as they were tortured and killed. The thing is, I’ll never know if that is the truth or not. It just plays out over and over and over again, slightly different each time.”

The guard hesitated, but refused to move.

“I won’t stand by while I can do something to prevent these dreams from plaguing others. I know you can hear them, the screams, the cries of the dying and the frightened. Let me inside and I’ll save them if you can’t or won’t. I won’t let their screams haunt me too.”

The guard called out as Nathan passed him by, longbow in hand as he strode into chaos and danger. He only stopped once, to turn around and ask one more question.

“Oh, may I borrow your blade? I’m afraid mine isn’t worth a damn, and if you won’t use it here at least let me use it to spill these monster’s blood.”

The sentry didn’t know what to do, he hadn’t the heart to strike down a potential ally, and he hadn’t the courage to volunteer to go in himself. The sentry refused, politely albeit, and Nathan would have to find his own weapon in the warzone that Reveran had become.

Over the next two days Nathan was responsible for more than 5 trips into and out of demon infested Reveran, never once stopping between trips for longer than a couple of minutes. It is estimated that he was directly responsible for saving more than 50 lives, though not all of them would escape the city with the life he had given back to them. While some had yet to be tainted and had remained hidden the vast number of people he saved from the clutches of everything from fire to demons were already doomed, though this was a fact Nathan as an outsider and a goblin was ignorant to. It was only when one group he had saved was cut down only moments after thanking him from saving their lives and leading them to safety that he understood that perhaps his efforts were in vain. The Koyrl’Solnurn guards at the gate had opened the barrier to let them out, only to strike them down moments after having left the hell they had come from. The blow was grievous to Nathan’s resolve, and while he admired the Kyorl’Solenurn for what some of them had done to help him save his daughter he would never look at them the same again.

Over the course of his many trips into the afflicted portions of the city Nathan suffered progressively worse injuries that would eventually leave him scarred for life as his body tired and his mind broke down. While at first they were nothing but scrapes and bruises prolonged combat would see Nathan scarred and maimed for life. The first of these injuries was the loss of his last two fingers on his right hand, both his pinky and ring finger being bitten off by a demon he had been fighting with. Despite this horrific injury he merely wrapped his hand in a strip of cloth in an attempt to staunch the bleeding before leading the family of commoners he had saved from their home out towards the edge of the city. Other major injuries would include multiple broke ribs from being clubbed by malformed demonic hands and claws, a horrific cut to his leg which would leave him with a permanent limp and finally a great claw was thrust right into his chest, leaving a ragged hole that would eventually leave him bloody and dying right near the very same gate he had entered from.

By then the invasion had ended and the city was once again free of demons or those who had been tainted by them, but Nathan was in critical condition and dying fast. While most of the clans had more pressing matters and people to worry about rather than a single dying goblin many of the fortunately untainted commoners he had helped save, or whom had heard of his deeds though word of mouth, stepped in to ensure they at least tried to help him. While a traditional Fae healer found it impossible to simply use sorcery to heal his wounds he was slowly nursed back from the brink of death, his process of recovery taking nearly 5 months before he could walk again. It was no sooner than he had recovered however than the Kyorl’Solenurn arrived to preform an inquiry and see whether or not the goblin had been involved in the organization of the invasion of the city.

Two inquisitors were sent to see the recovering Halme and determine whether or not the goblin could possibly have had a hand in the destruction that ravaged the city. One inquisitor was sure the goblin was guilty, that the idea of using non-fae to help facilitate the escape of key cultists or agents that incited the many nether gates that were opened within the city was nothing short of genius, and that Nathan's multiple attempts to smuggle tainted out of the city were proof of his guilt. Her more level headed companion insisted that the Halme was merely ignorant of what afflicted the people he was trying to save, and his actions were merely out of a sense of ignorant goodwill. Both agreed that after having heard his story that his actions were reckless and poorly thought out, and that he was lucky to be alive. In the end neither of the two could convince the other of their position, and the matter was left undecided. As a precaution against further actions the Halme might take the two agreed that the goblin would no longer be allowed to walk about the city armed, though he would be permitted his weapons should he choose to leave the city on business to the surface. He would never again be allowed to enter Kyorl'Solenurn territory and his interaction with members was limited to business only.

It was after this that Nathan settled down into his shop that he runs today, the crippled Halme busying himself with his work to take his mind off the fact that his daughter was gone and his body still ached from his injuries. This remained the status quo for years, even though the riots that enveloped the bazaar which he luckily avoided due to being out of town guiding a group of relic hunters North. When he returned his shop was ransacked and left barren, but like each other time he had lost his home Nathan rebuilt and carried on, and to this day his shop sees much business and traffic from travelers and locals alike.

With the return of the Illhar’dro to the city Nathan’s mood has improved considerably, especially when he was informed by his old friend Janessa that his daughter had returned with them. Since then the old Halme has been in high spirits, though he is still forbidden from laying eyes on his daughter. He is confident that he child is doing well, and from what he has been told she has grown into a fine woman.

Description: A Halme standing just at 6 feet tall, Nathan is a typical looking Halme. He is very obviously from the temperate area around Haltonreibe, his skin only tanned from the large amount of time he spends outdoors. He lacks the broad shoulders that many Halme from the north or the East have, setting him apart as having been born farther South. His brown hair is constantly matted down atop his head, cut short so that it won’t hang in front of his eyes and impede his vision during periods of hunting. For the most part he keeps his face clean shaven only allowing a bit of stubble to surface every so often. He has green eyes and can very often be seen in his typical Brown leather attire, featuring a brown leather vest over a plain white long sleeved shirt, brown linen trousers held up by a brown leather belt and a pair of sturdy leather boots. Since the events of the second demon invasion Nathan has walked with a limp, his leg never recovering from the injury he sustained. His Right hand has only three fingers upon it, though this hasn’t seemed to slow down his craft or his ability to shoot a bow, though many give his maimed hand a look of disgust. He has obviously grown old, his hair fading as grey begins to show. While most would consider him middle age he is long lived for a Halme of the time, given their disposition to foreign things such as illness and disease. Still he carries himself well for an old man, and doesn’t yet show any sign of slowing down.

Time Zone/Activity: GMT -7 Mountain standard time
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Re: Registration thread: version 3.0 - Raveran 1114

Postby Bamawing » Mon Jan 14, 2013 10:21 pm

Gack - please forgive. brb. :)
Last edited by Bamawing on Sun Jan 20, 2013 12:12 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Re: Registration thread: version 3.0 - Raveran 1114

Postby Beau~Barbare » Thu Jan 17, 2013 8:38 am

I know I need to expand and change a lot. I would love feedback please!!
Name: Rau'zen Vlozress

Race: Ver'drowendar

Age: Around 60

Equipment: Two spring loaded throwing knives hidden in his sleeves, two Scimitar on either side of his hips, a thick leather belt with many pockets to hold them. In those pockets you can find herbs to chew to dull pain, drow teeth, small shiny stones of indeterminable origin, needles and thread. He wears leather armor, thick with layers. Looks handmade, a patchwork of leather colors. His arms are protected by metal gauntlets, beneath his gauntlets near his wrists he wears light grey gloves. Upon inspection, you would find that they are made from Drowussu skin. On each palm is a forehead emblem of a ssu. He also wears giant black heavy cape with a hood, also leather, appearing to be made out of drow skin. Light, chainmail underneath grossly cured thick leather vest, tight leather pants, with light metal greaves, black steel toed boots, very thick, no metal on the bottom.
A thick, heavy metal mask that straps tightly to his face. A garish smile with sharp teeth, and two crosses for eye slits. Jerky in abundance, unknowable animals.


Magic: Blood Alignment, little to no knowledge of magic.

Beginning city: Raveran

Clan: Vloz'zres

Background: During the war with Nidra'chall, Rauz'zen was a mercenary in the Sarghess clan. A body amongst the thousands in the front line fighting demons. Although the sarghess were victorious in the war, his small platoon suffered massive losses and was abandoned. In the war he was knocked unconscious and fell into a trench of bodies. When he awoke he had no way of knowing if the war was over or not. He crawled out on top of the bodies but could not make it out of the trench. No one know how long he languished there alone, with thousands of bodies and open gates to the netherworld. He went mad trying to escape and broke his fingers attempting to dig and scratch his way out. His mind was lost within the carnage. He remained in the mass grave for longer than anyone could count. He survived off the dead bodies of the grave and the insects that swarmed the rotted corpses. Demonic portals were opened all around him and beneath the cavernous grave spewing demons that infested his body and corrupted his mind. He lost his memory almost entirely, only knowing the cold skin of the corpses and darkness. They began to speak to him, love and take care of him and he grew a sick obsession with feeling of dead flesh. He removed his clothes and covered his naked body in the skins of his new comrades, who spoke to him in death.
A drider scavenger taking advantage of the demons and soldiers pushing toward Sharess Palace and abandoning the lowlands found him. He crawled into the pit for food and valueables and found him terrified and burying himself beneath the rotting mess. The drider took emence pity on him, and had to fight to free him from the trench. He tied his limbs with web and gagged him to keep from screaming and biting. Once out of the grave the drow fainted in shock from the light and awoke in civilazation. In a diluted frenzy he intersected a Vlozress caravan, that recognized the extremity of his plight and saved his soul. He existed there in permanent apathy, mostly procuring food for the poor in his clan and himself. In the far outskirts of drow civilization he kills fae, Xuile'solen and goblins and collects their meat in bags he carries on the back of a unicorn that seems to have been stolen from a drowussu victim. He has no interest in Ada or fame or rank, and very poor knowledge of magic. He can feel the Vel of Vloz'ress's mana and energy, and is drawn towards it thus his loyalty to the Vloz'ress is based on his demonic seed and not much thought. Rauz'zen is an excellent assassin, is fast as a whip, and is tainted so strongly he can no longer feel pain.


Description: He wears light chain mail beneath a thick double sided leather cuirass made from drow skin and sewn together choppily. Rauz'zen wears a belt with a large sack on his hip, he hides it well beneath a large black chitin cloak that he wears at all times. His shoulder pads are strapped on with chitin belts and spiked, making him appear much bigger when shrouded in his cloak. He is actually rather short and very thin, when he is naked he looks pitiful and ugly but hides his hideous body with the skin of other drow and his metal mask. Rauz'zen has a compulsion to tare out his hair so all that's left is a long strip on the top of his head, dyed red. This hair dye is proves that there is still a sentient and possibly loyal in nature. His ears are long and his left ear is pierced and has a scar cut out of it. He always wears his mask, so few know what his face looks like. His mask is dark metal with a wild grin, and crosshatch eyes that gleam bright red with his taint. There are veins that protrude and swell all over his body and cannot be hidden. Beneath it, his lips have torn into his cheeks creating a large smile that is stitched closed. His red pupils are two different sizes for some reason, and in bright light he goes completely blind. His nose has been broken and his face is riddled with scars and veins, but his eyebrows are stern and handsome. Perhaps before the taint he was an attractive man, but now he looks like a monster.

Time Zone/Activity: Central Standard Time

EDIT: Removed Demonic form entirely.
Last edited by Beau~Barbare on Tue Jan 29, 2013 4:44 am, edited 2 times in total.
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Re: Registration thread: version 3.0 - Raveran 1114

Postby Alric » Sun Jan 20, 2013 10:11 pm

Improbable Odds:

Character: Nathan Fulton

Approved, you may now begin play.

Beau~Barbare:

Character: Rau'zen Vloz'ress

Such extreme body alterations (esp. the limbs) due to tainting are not possible unless your character is a Berserker. Berserkers are the way they are due to a skilled Vel'nari using the seed to extensively modify their bodies. If a seed causes mutations than the possession is underway, and the character would have mere minutes left until he/she transforms into a Ver'aku/Vel'akar. Your character can have signs of tainting illness but no physical modifications.
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Re: Registration thread: version 3.0 - Raveran 1114

Postby Beau~Barbare » Tue Jan 29, 2013 4:42 am

Alric wrote:Beau~Barbare:

Character: Rau'zen Vloz'ress

Such extreme body alterations (esp. the limbs) due to tainting are not possible unless your character is a Berserker. Berserkers are the way they are due to a skilled Vel'nari using the seed to extensively modify their bodies. If a seed causes mutations than the possession is underway, and the character would have mere minutes left until he/she transforms into a Ver'aku/Vel'akar. Your character can have signs of tainting illness but no physical modifications.

I'm sorry, I didnt specify. This is only after his demon takes over him. That does not happen until I am done writing this character. I've updated it to not include anything about his demon form, seeing as I will not be writing this form at all until I decide it's him to die.
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Re: Registration thread: version 3.0 - Raveran 1114

Postby Alric » Sun Feb 03, 2013 7:49 pm

Alright, checked and your character is now approved!
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Re: Registration thread: version 3.0 - Raveran 1114

Postby DeadPigeonGolem » Sun Feb 03, 2013 8:15 pm

REPOST (given that the Deme'dichi are now a go)

-Serra'tae Kyorl'solenurn

viewtopic.php?f=83&t=13949&start=150#p659243

As of 1114, Serra’tae has become a much more focused, less wishy-washy individual. Specifically, he has departed from the Kyorl’solenurn, taking his weapons and armor with him. Some would say that he has disgraced himself, while others would say that he does so to preserve his honor and should be forgiven. Either way, Serra’tae has renounced his old clan and gone to make his own way in Val’Raveran. He does not support the excesses of his “brothers”, who now slay all who would even vaguely seem to be impure and prowl the streets with a violence and zeal that resembles the demons they pursue. This is not the type of drow that Serra’tae wishes to be.

Personality wise, he has become much firmer in his beliefs. While he originally was not fully in line with Kyorl beliefs, his upbringing had made him loyal to the clan. Such a moral conflict inevitably made him indecisive and prone to shifting responsibility to other hands. He now is more prone to taking the lead in a situation, or at least volunteering proactively rather than waiting for orders.

Nowadays, Serra’tae works as a police officer for the Deme’dichi. While the minor clan does have its own security force, it does allow non-clan members to join the policing force. Serra’tae’s duties are familiar to him, consisting of primarily street patrol and paperwork shuffling. His knowledge of Kyorl habits is also helpful, as this has allowed him to recommend adjustments to the patrol schedule to better protect Deme’dichi inhabitants from the fanaticism of the Kyorl’solenurn.

((Although, does this mean that he's changed his last name to "Deme'dichi"?))

((I'm also fully aware that this could result in Serra'tae not surviving to 1114. If that's the case, whatevs.))
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Re: Registration thread: version 3.0 - Raveran 1114

Postby Alric » Fri Feb 15, 2013 5:37 am

DeadPigeonGolem:

Serra'tae has been approved, you can begin play!
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Re: Registration thread: version 3.0 - Raveran 1114

Postby DeadPigeonGolem » Sat Feb 16, 2013 12:22 am

Alric wrote:DeadPigeonGolem:

Serra'tae has been approved, you can begin play!


Thanks!
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Re: Registration thread: version 3.0 - Raveran 1114

Postby Beau~Barbare » Sun Mar 03, 2013 10:32 pm

Alric wrote:Alright, checked and your character is now approved!

You mean mine? OMG! *bigsmile* <3
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Re: Registration thread: version 3.0 - Raveran 1114

Postby Bamawing » Sat Mar 30, 2013 6:59 pm

Re-registering Cha'tia

viewtopic.php?f=83&t=13949&p=702648&hilit=Cha%27tia#p702648

During the timeskip:
She mated with her templar, Garrus, and they have one child, age 5. With her family growing she has postponed her dream of forming her own order. Her brother Tia'nir is still with his mate, and they have a 9-year old daughter. The rift with her mother healed just fine, but the rest of her family has elected to stay in Chel, keeping near the city of light during its darkest time.
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Re: Registration thread: version 3.0 - Raveran 1114

Postby Derkath of Morrowind » Tue Apr 02, 2013 10:51 pm

Name: Jal

Race: Halm

Age: 20

Equipment: A loose, grey wool shirt with matching pants, sandals, a leather nap-sack, a wool scarf that hides the lower features of his face, an iron chest plate and a steel spear.

Magic: None - he's human

Background: Born in a small fortress city of the eastern coast of the continent, Jal was born into the world of Human mercenaries. He was trained from birth in the arts of combat to serve as the city's main export - exportable, loyal, disciplined, merciless soldiers. Jal was always taught that no matter the race, people all died the same, and as such developed an unique attitude towards the Fae. Like Jal's father, and his father before him, Jal excelled in the spear.

At the tender age of 14 he was sent of to the neighboring city of Windore as a spearman. It was there that he participated in his first skirmish. Unfortunately for him and his fellow soldiers, their opponents were none other than Drow raiders. His entire battalion was slaughtered, leaving only him alive under their rotting bodies. It took him two days to crawl through the dead bodies, finally emerging starved and dehydrated; in his desperation he turned to his only option - cannibalism. By eating the corpses and other survivors, his mind broken to the point were he could no longer tell racial deferences, he finally regained enough strength to depart the battlefield, eventually trekking fifteen miles to a trade road. It was during his travels on the trade road that he had made contact with a Drow Caravan, specifically one under attack by a three bandits. Seeing that hitching a ride on a caravan was preferable to walking to a city, he decided to help out the caravan in to only way he knew how - slaughter. The Drow were so terrified by this show of violence, that they hired him out of fear of death.

He travelled with them for a month to a large settlement many miles due north. It was there that he settled down for two years. In his time there he had taught himself basics of the Drow language, script, customs, navigation, mathematics, refined his combat skills and purchased his steel spear (which he still uses to this day). In his time there, he underwent the transformation from child to young teen and in doing so, developed a preference for female Vanir, Drow and Dark Elves.

Eventually Jal left the settlement and became a wandering mercanary, selling his potent skills to anybody willing to pay him. For a year he carried on his life in this manner, his cold demeaner earning him a fierce reputation. For two whole years he had known nothing but continous death, his skills growing ever more honed. It was a the end of this period that he had realized the potential profit of the Underdark. So it was that he moved into the Underdark, moving from small settlement to small settlement, honing his skills ever further and becoming ever more proficient in the Drow Language for over a year, occasionally making visits to the surface.

Eventually he stumbled upon the great Drow city of Raveran, and decided to make his name known around Drow circles. He now stands at the eastern bazzar, waiting for a work opportunity.

Description: Jal is incredibly tall for a Halm - standing at 6ft 2', His is an imposing, lean, caucasian figure adorned with a grey wool shirt, matching pants, and iron chest plate and a scarf that he hides his mouth, nose and neck with. His hair is a dark shade of brown, his eyes a distorted mess of green, grey and orange, his face young (although mired with scars) and his jawline surprisingly sharp and clean shaven for a human. While he usually exhibits a cold demeanor, he sometimes opens up to others... mostly in the form of morose, black humor. He also exhibits a certain amount of charisma, though not in the traditional sense, he is perfectly capable of convincing, bribing and all other arts of the tongue.

Time-Zone: Central European Time (CZ)
Last edited by Derkath of Morrowind on Sat Apr 13, 2013 7:53 pm, edited 2 times in total.
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Re: Registration thread: version 3.0 - Raveran 1114

Postby DeadPigeonGolem » Sat Apr 06, 2013 10:12 pm

Name: Detir’nah Itar’nae Illhar’dro

Race: Drowolath

Age: 45

Equipment:

Military:
1 Sharpened Metal Staff
1 Trowel
1 set Light Armor, for Torso, fore-arms, and shins.

Medical:
5 uses of Smelling Salts, used to wake up unconscious individuals.
10 uses of Medical Salve, used for patching up and disinfecting battle wounds.
10 uses of Acid Powder, small packets of fungi that, when blended with a slightly acidic solution, create a hallucinogenic beverage that can be used to treat panic attacks and disorientate foes.
25 uses of Analgesic Needles, darning needles coated in an extremely powerful hallucinogen, used for pain management on the battlefield. Multiple doses can cause heart failure.
1 set Surgical Needles, used to sew up wounds.
30 meters Surgical twine, used to sew up wounds.
Various Nonreactive Cups and Small pans

General:
1 Supply Runner’s Backpack, capable of holding 25 kilos of equipment and items.
1 Supply Runner’s Hooded Cloak, dark gray to allow the user to blend into the shadows, with the Illhar’dro Crest stitched onto the bottom lefthand corner.
Water flask, holds 1.5 liters of water.
Firestone
Whetstone
20 meters of rope
1 grappling hook
1 Encyclopedia of Underworld Flora and Fauna, old but trustworthy
1 Set of Maps of the City
20 ada, with a substantial quantity stored in a Deme’dichi Bank

Magic:
Earth High Arts, of sufficient level to defend oneself from attack by most infantry personnel and run away.
Basic mana manipulation

Beginning city: Val'Raveran

Clan: Val’Illhar’dro Clan, Itar’nae Subhouse

Background:
Personality: Tempered by war in Nuqrah’shareh, the once somewhat shallow, quite scatterbrained, and very naive Detir’nah has matured into a comparatively cheerful and upbeat drow that nevertheless is able to realistically assess situations and control his behavior accordingly. Despite the war, Detir’nah has retained his sense of adventure and some of his innocence, and can be seen frequently humming to himself.

History: Detir’nah Illhar’dro is the son of a sub-set of a subhouse of the Illhar’dro family. As befits members of the Illhar’dro, the branch concerned itself heavily with travel and trade, working as managers of one of the many small branches of the Illhar’ess’ trade empire. Specifically, the Itar’nae functioned as point traders, working with producers of goods to negotiate prices and other such things. There is also a small business in "fungal herbology" that the Itar’nae deal in. An entire sub-set of the family is devoted to this and it is this sub-set that Detir was born into.

Detir was born in 1080 in Val’Raveran. His mother managed a mushroom business while his father oversaw the gathering of said mushrooms. It was an unfortunate fact that Detir’s father usually came home liberally dusted in shroom spores which were, of course, partially psychedelic themselves. As such, it was soon seen that Detir was a rather strange child. His personality seemed to finalize itself by age ten. This was rather fortunate, as he went to Orthorbbae that same year.

Detir’nah’s experience at Orthorbbae was unremarkable. He exceled in Maths and was known in the battle room for being able to spot small abnormalities that denoted enemy positions. What he could do with these opportunities was an entirely different matter, as he proved to be capable of basic self-defense but not much more. In fact, his strategy has more often than not been to avoid the conflict altogether and look for a way to complete the objective with little to no combat. At the age of 20 Detir had completed the basic education necessary for a minor member of a clan and was transitioned to the Itar’nae’s School of Mycology and Herbalism. Here he found his “true calling”, becoming particularly good at the finding and identification of the various species of fungi and plants, as well as the proper application of these to get the best high. His education also included some practical knowledge, such as fungi that were good for treating wounds and how to make a basic medical salve. This continued for four years until he was ready to begin practicing in the world to better hone his skills. Detir’nah left for the Mistworld and somehow survived long enough to hear tell of the Clan being recalled to Nuqrah’shareh. His family found him somewhat more mature than before, and certainly more skilled, but otherwise the same drow.

This would change.

As the situation in Nuqrah’shareh took a turn for the worst, Detir’nah was drafted into the Illhar’dro military. Small and fairly weak, it was determined that spending time training him into a proper soldier was insufficiently cost effective, and Detir was moved off to the Supporting Corps, which consisted mostly of medics, repairmen, and the like. Here, Detir took a crash course in medicine and found that his background in hallucinogens was extremely beneficial for battlefield medicine, allowing him to help soldiers get back to their feet quickly, as well as occasionally assist in subterfuge as a consultant.

Nevertheless, war is hell, and this holds true for drow. Missing limbs, eviscerated corpses, stumps where heads should be, Detir had seen it all and participated as an assistant in more than a few field surgeries to try and save a soldier’s life. They were not always successful.

This left its mark on Detir’nah, and despite trying his best to continue with life as usual, Detir’nah inevitably looked in the mirror one day and saw a different drow looking back. A drow that had seen much of death and bloodshed, and who has been forced to grow up quicker than he had wanted to. A drow that had tried and failed to hold completely onto childish things. Detir’nah mourned his transition into adulthood, but eventually grew to accept that he was no longer a youngling and should stop acting like one.

Life continued thusly. Until the Vel’Sharen came, Detir worked as a field medic and occasional supply runner, trying to save who he could, smooth the path for those he couldn’t, and providing weaponry and equipment for the living, killing when necessary and running when not.

With the Vel’Sharen offensive came a chance to withdraw from the battlefield, which Detir took with relief. He had been born in Val’Raveran, after all, and he looked forward to seeing his hometown again. To his relief, it looked largely the same as before, despite a variety of new and larger scars and several new players in the political field. Overall, nothing he couldn’t handle after the war.

Detir’nah is currently living in an apartment in the Val’Illhar’dro District and is on paid military leave, with an income of 20 ada a month. His backpay has been stored in a nearby Deme’dichi Bank, as well as any spare ada he doesn’t spend by the end of the month.

Description: Detir’s physical description is surprisingly normal. As is typical of most Illhar’dro, his hair is dyed teal at the tips. His hair tied back into a dutch braid, but it is more sloppily done than before. His normal clothing consists of various dark, earth colored shirts and brown pants, paired with robust leather boots. A belt carries a small trowel and a dagger. Over this ensemble is his standard issue Supply Runner’s Cloak. By habit, he now wears light armor and carries his Supply Runner’s Backpack everywhere, despite it not being necessary. Also typical of Illhar’dro, he looks distinctly female, something he is not above using to his advantage.

Time Zone/Activity: Timezone, US Central Standard Time.
Last edited by DeadPigeonGolem on Sun Apr 07, 2013 6:17 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Re: Registration thread: version 3.0 - Raveran 1114

Postby Tsukiko » Sun Apr 07, 2013 2:32 pm

Frist try at the registration thread
This character is more aimed to Freestyle, but i change my mind and use it also in Raverran, so i would like it to be approved if approvable :)

Name: Taldrin Anskial
Race: Chel drowolath
Gender: male
Age: 65 years old
Clan: very new Sarghress

Weapon Skill: short sword, stiletto, hand-to-hand.
Mana Skill: basic mana manipulation. Low trained Water affinity, would just be able to throw
small amount of liquids without touching it.
Other skills: able to dye and do simple hairstyles. Intermediate Kotorc speaker.

Description:
About 6”5 tall, somehow athletic built
Eye colour: bright blue
Hair: white. Short hair with strait fringe with two belly-long locks.
Details: wears glasses to correct a low myopia. Also has a thin scar from under his left eye to middle cheek.
Clothes; simple clothes; large beige pants covering reinforced grey boots, and a dark side-buttoned shirt.

Image

Equipment:
Wears a chainmail under his vest. His boots are reinforced with the same material.
Has a old damaged and rusted dagger; it was the first weapon he received, the one he used while learning how to fight. Not proper for fighting since a long time, he keeps it as the sole nice memory of his childhood.
One water canteen and one canteen of any alcohol Taldrin could afford. He doesn’t drink much, he uses it to befriend new co-workers.
Few adas (less then 10)

Personality notes:
Displays either a polite smile or a neutral expression.
Taldrin isn't very talkative. He is cold and quite wary of others, but will be loyal and reliable to those able to gain his trust, and will give his best for them.
Due to his appearance (not very tall for a drow, combined with glasses, vest and chainmail somehow hiding his muscles), he is often mistaken for some kind of scholar. Some people even treated him as defenseless and weak baby. Taldrin is perfectly fine with that for he considers the most misled a potential opponent is, the weakest this opponent will be.

Unlike most drows, Taldrin doesn't has low consideration of none-drows. He thinks they can be annoying just the same, or rivals for survival, or even allies sometimes. Plus, having a brother who may no longer be a drow, and a kotorc friend have helped him being more open-minded.
Also, Taldrin hates the Vel Sharen, he considers them traitors to their own kind, and thus to anyone.

Background:
Born in 1049, Taldrin Anskial is the second son of a Chel hair-doer.
His mother treated her sons horribly, preferring her daughter, giving up to her every whims, to the point of being completely unfair to Taldrin and his brother. She would even let them starve in order to save up money if her daugther was asking for surface delicaties.
Kendiir, Taldrin's brother, left “home”to integrate a small mercenaries band, coming back from time to time to check on Taldrin, and secretly giving him few saved adas.
When Taldrin was 17 years old, a second daughter was born. His mother decided she was not to bother raising up a boy anymore, and just kicked out Taldrin.
He could survive by running errands for neighbour shop keepers who pitied him at first, but were pleased with his work and thus kept giving him errands and deliveries.
After one year like that, Kendiir returned. He was then out of merc buisness, having lost almost all his fellows in their last mission. Kendiir and Taldrin started living together. It wasn't paradise; a little tent amongst many others, a very little food, scavenging garbage, running errands... Kendiir found a job as a bouncer in a tavern in Sharen district, but that was a low paid job. During free time, Kendiir was teaching hand-to-hand and sword fighting to Taldrin. Taldrin really loved it, he liked having time with his bro and these moments were the happiest of his life.

When Taldrin was in his 29th year, he attracted the attention of Kal'feir Val Sharen, a noble Sharen guy into teenage boys. He offered Taldrin to become his “protector”, which he accepted, already well knowing how hard life could be, and always being short of adas.
Taldrin came to respect Kal'feir, for he always kept his words in every thing, never making false promises. They even started to get close to each other, and Kal'feir found in Taldrin both a paid lover and a pupil, teaching him the basic mana manipulation, writing and reading, sometimes some sword fighting in complement of Kendiir's trainings.
Once he even took Taldrin on a little ride while patrolling. A dragon ride, yes. That was priceless to Taldrin.
This lasted until the Nidraa'chal War, 4 years after (of course, Taldrin wasn't much into politics and could not understand at this time who the Sharen were fighting) .
Taldrin and his brother were living in the war-zone. They tried to protect whatever they could before accepting they were no matches there. They attempted to leave the place unnoticed, roof by roof. On the way, Taldrin witnessed a much distrubing scene. He glanced “his” Val, fighting Nidraa'chal with his squad. And several red-eyed Sharen back stabbing Kal'feir and some others before waving good-bye to the “enemies”. Kal'feir was dead, killed by his own clan! And who was fighting who? Taldrin still holds a big grudge at the Sharen clan for that, and what he saw finished to make him cynic and wary.
The run was not over yet, and the brothers, after being sure they were still unnoticed, resume their escape.
They got attacked by a minor demon merged in a Kyorl girl. They fought their best together and eventually destroyed the host body of this demon, but Kendiir was then attacked by the loose nether thing and ended up tainted in the process. Taldrin “only” got injuried (he still have a scar on his left cheek, tough it's not a big one, another scars disappeared with time).

Their home and work places were destroyed, and no one to rely upon left.
They survived anyway, scavenging and taking any work they could.
Few years after, Kendiir decided to try his chance at the Vloz'ress, but lost his fight in the applicants pit. For what Taldrin heard, his brother is most probably a mindless naga by now.
Taldrin, even if terribly sad at this, could not be mad at the Vloz'ress clan. Kendiir knew the rules and accepted them. Taldrin was even grateful his brother's sword was return to him when he asked for it.

During the next years, Taldrin went wandering for one job to another, from one merc temporary group to another...
In 1009, he finally ended up body guard for a merchant specialized in chocolate. Taldrin hated the guy, for he was full of himself, often intoxicated with alcohol, ill-speaking to his employees and mistreating for no reasons his slaves. Such a behaviour reminded him of his mother. But it was a stable job, so he coped with it, showing his most polite smile when wanting to kill the merchant, while excepting for brighter opportunities.
There he became friend with Ipger, a kotorc slave.
“Ip” was dreaming of joining the Sarghress special force of non-fae soldiers, so Taldrin trained him on his free-time, in exchange Ip would teach him his native language.
In 1112, as Ip training should have been enough, Taldrin decided to use the adas he had be saving to buy drugs. He poisoned the food on a day the slaves were refused food as punishment. All free ones in the house thus got deeply asleep and Taldrin immediately freed the slaves. Leaving other slaves to do as they pleased, he took Ipger with him to the Sarghress, both applying.
By now they are seperated for a long time; Ip went his way in the War Meat while Taldrin was affected outside Chel.


Player time zone; western Europe
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Re: Registration thread: version 3.0 - Raveran 1114

Postby Brawl97 » Sun Apr 07, 2013 4:07 pm

Name: Idra'nel Sarghress

Edit: made an avatar cuz tsukiko's is super cute and I wanted one *blush*
Just assume the shirt is armor and the bottom half of the armor look like jeans I guess *wee*

Image

Build: slender
Race: drowolath
Gender: female
Age: 134
Height: 8'2
Hair: short white hair
Eyes: blue

Clan:Sarghress
Sorcery: Ice


Location:

Raveran

Weapons and armor:

Idra'nel uses a battle ax as her primary weapon that looks like this http://206.18.123.47/Medieval-Arms/Alien-Battle-Axe
She carries a basket hilt sword sword as a side arm http://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Broadsword
She wears heavy armor and has a heater shield http://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Heater_shield

Equipment:


2 ice foci embedded in her gauntlets
2 medical kits

Combat ability:
Hand to Hand: basic combat training for sarg military but idra'nel's lack of skill makes her fist fighting ineffective
ax and sword: Idra'nel is a sub-par fighter, she is physically weak and so her attacks aren't highly effective without her sorcery. she was never particularly skilled with any weapon but these are the ones she's competent with
Ice sorcery: Obsessive in regards to the mana arts, She is a very skilled ice sorceress

Personality traits: Idra'nel due to her introverted nature is an awkward speaker and is shy, she tries to avoid speaking for long periods of time and has a difficult time meeting new people. The only circumstance in which she's comfortable talking for longer than a few phrases is when talking with her brother and her close friends. She has an intense love for inflicting cruelties and she is very vengeful. Idra'nel loves the sarghress wolves. She is very entertained by fire sorcery. She likes to have long talks to herself.

Edit #2: I know its your job al but I just hate making people go through giant text walls so imma put up a (admitedly foul mouthed ^^;) abridged version of the story with details in the full story below it

TL:DR version

[1-25]
Nel Grew up with hardcore sarg ideologues, was unimpressed by propaganda. Like most kids did weird shit adults would cringe at, however this was small animal mutilation to see how they work inside, reasonably people didn't want to chill with her and her parents only being concerned with making her a bloodthirsty ass-kicker never taught her how to talk to people. Said parents who were unimpressed by her ass kicking ability and didn't know her type of magic threw down some money to get her out of the house by sending her to elf school (because they aren't total dicks).

{25-40}

By the time she was at school she was plenty EMO, she liked to talk to herself because no one else did and because of the no people skills thing she came off as a weird ass little girl and no one (teachers included) liked her. She after a badass light-show her magic teacher did got real into magic. She was so awesome at it the alpha bitch of her class tried to make life super tough on her. She did not like this and (presumably what every bullied kid wants to do at some point) tortured her to death with said badass magic awesomesauce. She loved the hell out of that and became a bit of a sadist.

[40-95]
After school ended she (due to previously finding animal mutilation fun) decided medicine was what she would do. Between no people skills and a childhood and teen life experience of everyone hating her she was super EMO and a loner freak, effectively self sabotaging any friendship opportunities she had for 30 years. She heard her parents had a kid who everyone liked. She didn't like that, she went off to kill him (because she's nuts at this point)

She gets there, kids practicing magic, putting on a fancy (for a kid anyway) light show. She remembers how much she likes crazy light shows long enough to let her crazy wear off. She decided killing her little brother because no one liked her was pretty fucking retarded. Her brother likes meeting people and makes friends quick so he talked forever with her. Her parents show up, tell her to get her bitch ass out, little bro says stop being dicks to her. Parents don't wanna lose another kid so they say fine.

Nel and him are freinds, he teaches her to stop being so crazy by just being the only one who didn't think she was crazy and listened to the bad soap opera-like life she had ^^;

[95-present]
After many years of Ebinoth (little brother and my previous character) chillin with nel she became far less crazy and developed marginal people skills. She decides to become a traveling healer (because that's what formerly crazy wizards do i guess ^^;) uses her magic to help her kill people who try to stop her from doing healer type things and eventually settles in Raveran

History:

[1-25]
Idra'nel was the first born of the sargrhess sanai and tae'shul. When she was born her parents had great hopes for her, they wanted a boisterous, powerful warrior who would bring honor and glory to their name and to their clan. Idra'nel was never very receptive of the stories of sharen evil or the exultant stories of the sarghress clans glory. All things considered she grew up very indifferent to the tales of her parents. As she grew older many in her neighborhood were disturbed as she had been seen dissected corpses of cats and tiktikki's examining the insides to see how it worked and showing it to everyone, many children thought she was crazy and so they shunned her. This lack of interaction with her peers would make her attempts to form connections with others very ineffective through much of her life and she began to speak to herself in her desire to have at least one person who she could talk to.
Her parents grew to dislike her as well, though they believed blood-lust a positive trait and that too much fooling around with the other children would take away from her training this however did not bear fruit. Idra'nel was inadequate at fighting, to their best efforts her retention in combat training was unremarkable and her attacks clumsy. By the time she turned 25 her parents knew her affinity was not of their knowledge, she was a withdrawn, shy, weak misanthrope they saw her as a failure. They almost happily sent her to the Orthorbbae, maybe there she would learn to be useful.

{25-40}
Idra'nel was brought to the school on her parents wolf and left to be trained their for 15 years. She welcomed the change of scenery. She met those who would be her classmates for her stay,none of them liked her and she never went to great lengths to ingratiate herself. All ignored her as the loner freak who talks to herself. She was alone again.
Idra'nel was amazed when she came to her first sorcery lesson, Her teacher demonstrated affinity by putting on a show of her fire affinity for the class, it was the most inspiring thing she had ever witnessed in her life. She dreamed of it, spoke to herself endlessly about it and this brought about her intensity to learn mana arts. She was sorely disappointed when she learned ice, not fire was what she had as her power. Though this wasn't what she wanted she worked tirelessly to learn her abilities, to learn of this great gift she had and all it could do. She was considered easily the best sorceress in her class. One girl, a beld named la'fanaea was very jealous of her skill, she bullied her constantly. She always brought her friends in the rest of the class to spit on her, steal from her, punch and kick her they did everything they could to make life unbearable. One day Idra'nel had enough, she after combat practice when she was 33 waited until all the other students had gone to their classes, all except her. She walked up behind la'fanaea and began punching her, screaming about every slight done against her by her and her group, she could have simply killed her but she didn't, la'fanaea's last moments were the horror of being frozen alive unable to scream, unable to breathe, her heart stopped and she died. Idra'nel disposed of the body, her classmates knew she killed her and she always reminded them of her when they so much as looked at her funny, they were all terrified of her. She was isolated from others for the remainder of her time, but she was content, more than that really, she loved torturing her to death. This would be the beginning of a cruel brutality that would strike fear into her peers to the present day.

[40-95]

Idra'nel finally left the orthorbbae and joined to the military and became a medic. Her parents didn't want her home and she found repairing the wounds of injured people relaxing. She spent 30 years in this role. Her loner tendencies made her difficult for even the most friendly to connect with her. A turning point in her life was when she 70 heard that her parents had another child, this child was loved by many in her old neighborhood as well as her parents, that is what made her enraged. She never felt loved by anyone especially not by her parents. She in a rage resolved to kill the child, the perfect kid who his parents loved so much. Idra'nel moved into her parents home while they were out. She materialized a spear of ice and moved in front of the child to stab him. He was practicing with his affinity, the boy was throwing around a fireball in his hand, enamored by the flame. She remembered back to when she was young and had first seen mana in use and she realized it wasn't his fault she was so alone, she wanted to hate him but just couldn't. The boy walked up to Idra'nel and said "hi, are you my sitter today? My name's Ebinoth". Idra'nel was relieved by his reaction to her presence. She said nervously "hey, I'm Idra'nel. No I'm your sister and i came to visit you." The two talked for hours, Ebinoth was strangely unconcerned with someone he didn't know in his house, she was still bitter that he lived so charmed a life but she couldn't bear to hurt him, she was actually beginning to like him. That was when her parents came home. They were upset to see her. They had the child they wanted and didn't want her "corrupting" him. Ebinoth actually got up and yelled at them, he said that he liked Idra'nel and that they needed to stop being so mean, surprisingly enough they relented and let her visit. Ebintoh and idra'nel spoke often for many years, he was the first person he had ever become personally connected to as a friend, he was someone who wanted to be near her and listen to her problems and help her overcome them. She was happy.

[95-present]

With some self confidence being built Idra'nel said goodbye to her little brother, she wanted to see the underworld. For many years she was a traveling healer. helping those in need, and occasionally killing those in her way. Though she was still shy, Idra'nel learned to speak with others and form lasting connections. at 120 she finally she came to a place she felt comfortable being. This place was called Raveran and she had been there ever since.
Last edited by Brawl97 on Fri May 24, 2013 2:27 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Brawl97
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