thePurge
05-27-08, 12:56 AM
Name: Rovdrel Slatehill
Age: 23
Race: Half Dwarf
Hair Color: Cobalt
Eye Color: Brass
Occupation: Fighter
Personality: Stern and ambitious and...quite stubborn at times. He is very vindictive, having a very strong, clear view of justice, though some would view it as too lenient...and too harsh depending on the situation. He is forgiving to enemies who want to change their ways regardless of race, willing to show even the most bloodthirsty of orcs a better way, regardless of their crimes. Thus it could be said that he is very confident in the trust of others, regardless of their backgrounds and always willing to give anyone a second chance. However once the bonds of trust are broken, he fully commits himself to doing whatever he can to one day bring the offender to final, harsh punishment.
As tolerant of most races he is, Rovdrel does have a strong bitterness for certain varieties of elves however..
Appearance: Rovdrel compared to every other human male of his age is somewhat short in comparison but can stand above most waists. He has dull, stone-like skin, grayish in color and rough, untamed features on the face. He proudly wears a uncared puff of cobalt hair that explodes over his head and past the shoulders and a well developed mustache that should one day become a formidable beard to behold.
As for attire, he usually can be seen wearing a standard iron cuirass that leaves compact, muscled arms exposed. He also wears mailed leggings, steel-toed boots and a pointy pair of plated iron gauntlets bristled with small, protruding barbs. Lastly,he wears his vermilion colored cloak everywhere he goes, shortened a good portion by many tears and rips.
History: Rovdrel has in his most earliest of days lived within the side of a mountain, in a small citadel populated mostly by humans and dwarves. It was not an easy place to grow up in, as it was located somewhere in a secluded region between two feuding powers: The Ice Elves of a glacial keep to the west, and the Ash Orcs, who inhabit a searing volcano stronghold to the east.
For many years the citadel had to put up with the long conflict, seemingly never ending, as both sides consumed vast amounts of resources to further their goals which left the citadel with little to live on. The rough conditions however gave rise to many accomplished warriors through the strict training that was put upon all young men, for preparation of war in case one side tried to take over the citadel, which was a likely event as the mountain was rich in metal, and many of the craftsmen who lived there were known to be extraordinary in their craft with techniques kept secret from the warring factions.
In any case, Rovdrel came of age as a feirce, devoted warrior shaped by the turbulence of the times he lived in. He also became fond of sorcery involving light power, hoping that one day he'll master the art.
Eventually, Rovdrel grew tired of the constant ravaging of the land before him, a place he used to grow fond of for its once tranquil settings. Where there was once a mystical forest, now lies an endless field of ice and snow, and very often the smoldering aftermath of a battle.
The war seemed illogical to him, and the suffering brought to many other towns not directly involved encased the young warrior in a thick shell of bitterness and sense of injustice.
Why couldn't the two sides just work out their differences between themselves in more just ways? Knowing it would never come to that, Rovdrel left his mountain home for a better place. He hopes to one day become a harbinger of justice...a justice that many would no doubt find to be odd. Either it would be too forgiving or too cruel...But such are his ways..His soon to be fanatical ways.
Perhaps one day he would return to the secluded land pocketed in the mountains to find a way to end the suffering and find a way to end the war.
Equipment:
Armour: Iron cuirass, mail leggings, barbed iron gauntlets, steel spiked boots.
Misc:
-His prized vermilion cloak. When it was created it was enchanted with strong cold and heat resistant magic, capable of making the wearer not be affected by the hot and cold elements. When Rovdrel found the tattered cloak hanging off the branch of a rare silver colored tree, most of the magic that was once in it had vanished completely. Though it still holds a tiny spark of magic within itself, the protection is barely noticeable. Rovdrel really wears it now more as a memory of the mystical woods he once strolled, but does hope to one day encounter a powerful sorcerer capable of returning it to its full power one day.
Rovdrel also wears a belt with the fierce face of a bear, the emblem of his homeland citadel engraved in the brass buckle. It has been enchanted with minor dwarven magic deserving of the lower ranking fighters of the citadel giving them a slight increase in endurance, to make wearing amour a touch less of a burden. More powerful enchantments were reserved for those higher in rank.
Weapons:
Blightsmasher: A brutal, short mallet forged of steel, with the imposing face of a hawk engraved on one side. This gold painted weapon (obviously having many scratches on it by now) though not being lengthly, can send the largest of opponents reeling back with a direct hit. The edge of the mallet is not flat, but jagged with about fifteen reinforced spikes. Rovdrel holds this weapon in his main hand.
Spinerattler: A spiked, iron beatstick. The angular, edged portion of the longsword-length weapon protrudes rows of sharp, metal edges from the weapons five sides. Rovdrel holds this weapon in his left hand.
Throwing axes: Rovdrel keeps a sack of four small but wide bladed steel throwing axes in a leather pouch attached to his belt.
Skills:
Being trained a citadel with a large dwarven presence, Rovdrel has come to grasp their fighting style quite well and is above average when it comes to wielding a blunt weapon such as the axe or a weapon with a mace-like nature. He prefers the dwarven way over the human, growing to despise swords which require a bit more finesse to fight with properly. He also is a pretty good shot with a throwing axe, once again not following the human way of using bows.
Holy Light: Can tap into the energies of light and bend them to his will. Being a novice, he can only conjure a small beam or orb for various purposes, either for healing minor wounds, or giving enemies a burn or sting. He is only a novice in this skill and has a long way to go to reach proficiency.
Age: 23
Race: Half Dwarf
Hair Color: Cobalt
Eye Color: Brass
Occupation: Fighter
Personality: Stern and ambitious and...quite stubborn at times. He is very vindictive, having a very strong, clear view of justice, though some would view it as too lenient...and too harsh depending on the situation. He is forgiving to enemies who want to change their ways regardless of race, willing to show even the most bloodthirsty of orcs a better way, regardless of their crimes. Thus it could be said that he is very confident in the trust of others, regardless of their backgrounds and always willing to give anyone a second chance. However once the bonds of trust are broken, he fully commits himself to doing whatever he can to one day bring the offender to final, harsh punishment.
As tolerant of most races he is, Rovdrel does have a strong bitterness for certain varieties of elves however..
Appearance: Rovdrel compared to every other human male of his age is somewhat short in comparison but can stand above most waists. He has dull, stone-like skin, grayish in color and rough, untamed features on the face. He proudly wears a uncared puff of cobalt hair that explodes over his head and past the shoulders and a well developed mustache that should one day become a formidable beard to behold.
As for attire, he usually can be seen wearing a standard iron cuirass that leaves compact, muscled arms exposed. He also wears mailed leggings, steel-toed boots and a pointy pair of plated iron gauntlets bristled with small, protruding barbs. Lastly,he wears his vermilion colored cloak everywhere he goes, shortened a good portion by many tears and rips.
History: Rovdrel has in his most earliest of days lived within the side of a mountain, in a small citadel populated mostly by humans and dwarves. It was not an easy place to grow up in, as it was located somewhere in a secluded region between two feuding powers: The Ice Elves of a glacial keep to the west, and the Ash Orcs, who inhabit a searing volcano stronghold to the east.
For many years the citadel had to put up with the long conflict, seemingly never ending, as both sides consumed vast amounts of resources to further their goals which left the citadel with little to live on. The rough conditions however gave rise to many accomplished warriors through the strict training that was put upon all young men, for preparation of war in case one side tried to take over the citadel, which was a likely event as the mountain was rich in metal, and many of the craftsmen who lived there were known to be extraordinary in their craft with techniques kept secret from the warring factions.
In any case, Rovdrel came of age as a feirce, devoted warrior shaped by the turbulence of the times he lived in. He also became fond of sorcery involving light power, hoping that one day he'll master the art.
Eventually, Rovdrel grew tired of the constant ravaging of the land before him, a place he used to grow fond of for its once tranquil settings. Where there was once a mystical forest, now lies an endless field of ice and snow, and very often the smoldering aftermath of a battle.
The war seemed illogical to him, and the suffering brought to many other towns not directly involved encased the young warrior in a thick shell of bitterness and sense of injustice.
Why couldn't the two sides just work out their differences between themselves in more just ways? Knowing it would never come to that, Rovdrel left his mountain home for a better place. He hopes to one day become a harbinger of justice...a justice that many would no doubt find to be odd. Either it would be too forgiving or too cruel...But such are his ways..His soon to be fanatical ways.
Perhaps one day he would return to the secluded land pocketed in the mountains to find a way to end the suffering and find a way to end the war.
Equipment:
Armour: Iron cuirass, mail leggings, barbed iron gauntlets, steel spiked boots.
Misc:
-His prized vermilion cloak. When it was created it was enchanted with strong cold and heat resistant magic, capable of making the wearer not be affected by the hot and cold elements. When Rovdrel found the tattered cloak hanging off the branch of a rare silver colored tree, most of the magic that was once in it had vanished completely. Though it still holds a tiny spark of magic within itself, the protection is barely noticeable. Rovdrel really wears it now more as a memory of the mystical woods he once strolled, but does hope to one day encounter a powerful sorcerer capable of returning it to its full power one day.
Rovdrel also wears a belt with the fierce face of a bear, the emblem of his homeland citadel engraved in the brass buckle. It has been enchanted with minor dwarven magic deserving of the lower ranking fighters of the citadel giving them a slight increase in endurance, to make wearing amour a touch less of a burden. More powerful enchantments were reserved for those higher in rank.
Weapons:
Blightsmasher: A brutal, short mallet forged of steel, with the imposing face of a hawk engraved on one side. This gold painted weapon (obviously having many scratches on it by now) though not being lengthly, can send the largest of opponents reeling back with a direct hit. The edge of the mallet is not flat, but jagged with about fifteen reinforced spikes. Rovdrel holds this weapon in his main hand.
Spinerattler: A spiked, iron beatstick. The angular, edged portion of the longsword-length weapon protrudes rows of sharp, metal edges from the weapons five sides. Rovdrel holds this weapon in his left hand.
Throwing axes: Rovdrel keeps a sack of four small but wide bladed steel throwing axes in a leather pouch attached to his belt.
Skills:
Being trained a citadel with a large dwarven presence, Rovdrel has come to grasp their fighting style quite well and is above average when it comes to wielding a blunt weapon such as the axe or a weapon with a mace-like nature. He prefers the dwarven way over the human, growing to despise swords which require a bit more finesse to fight with properly. He also is a pretty good shot with a throwing axe, once again not following the human way of using bows.
Holy Light: Can tap into the energies of light and bend them to his will. Being a novice, he can only conjure a small beam or orb for various purposes, either for healing minor wounds, or giving enemies a burn or sting. He is only a novice in this skill and has a long way to go to reach proficiency.