Menagerie of Voices
07-07-08, 09:52 PM
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v71/plink/gunther_not_liking_generic.gif
Generic poses make him unhappy :(
Name: Gunther Rustig Bellum
Summoner Name: Mute Ragnarok (Moo-tay Rag-nar-rok)
Sex: Male.
Age: 35
Race: Human.
Kingship of Origin: Raust
Hair Colour: White, messy and badly cut.
Eye Colour: Red
Height: 5’9
Weight: Doesn’t stand for this kind of silliness.
Occupation: Apprentice Summoner, exiled soldier
Former occupation: General, King-for-a-Day, Scarer of Children at Bedtime
Temperament: Occasionally stubborn, overlaid with nervousness.
Religion: Agnostic with a healthy dose of salt.
Strengths: Willpower, adaptability, intelligent, a good liar, being diplomatic and a good cook.
Weaknesses: Sunlight (causing dizziness and fainting spells with prolonged exposure.) mistrust, languages, begging from his summons.
Likes: Cooking, finding food in general that’s edible, baths and people not harassing him.
Dislikes: Magic, demons, spiders, being hunted, people who exiled him, spiders, bad beer, cold noses in sensitive places and did I mention he is petrified of spiders?
History: Raust is nothing to write home about when it came to your local kingships in the world of Althanas...primarily because there’s just so many of them. Average economy, fairly good military, it was a ‘peaceful mountain kingdom’ that happily waged war against it’s neighbours for cheap thrills and whatever gold they could find, being that they’re a bunch of racist, magic-hating bastards who you couldn’t trust with a plastic fork let alone your passport.
Among those was Gunther.
Raised with the other Courtlings away from his ‘parents’ (as accidents do happen in court so it’s best to let them run wild until you can weed out the stupid ones) he was pressed into service after showing a love of learning and the ability to read and write (definite officer material there). He became a soldier that rose through the ranks to eventually get to the level of general…and enjoy all the perks, corrupt or otherwise that came with it seeing as nobody had exactly given these to him before and they were quite nice.
He was good at it too; as being the butt of playground jokes, even in the royal castle itself tends to give you a hardened skin, a slightly better perspective of people in general and be really, really good at hitting people where they hurt most. In country kingdoms where the national past-time was staring at trees or sheep, General Bellum was a name to be feared and children were scared to their beds with some rather exaggerated exploits (except the one with the flying dogs was true, the guy at the pub said so.). Perfect material for a long career in pillaging, burning, and consensual rough sex.
It was only a matter of time before the pale prick got it into his head that the current king of Raust wasn’t doing such a good job, and someone could do better. A lot better. All crowns, after all, are won in blood.
So the king was quietly slain with a sleeping poison (because there were some nice memories; even if he was now a crazy old git, he didn't need to suffer). The only surviving relative, the young crown prince (Proven! He was genuine!) was spirited away because killing kids is generally wrong and Gunther knew the value of a good arch enemy - the peasants needed something to root for after all when things got boring and the other kingdoms were sulking too much to play 'kidnap '.
But it was all remarkably easy. Too easy, Gunther thought, accepting the crown and being handed the first drink in front of the confused populace.
He was right of course; and was only king for a day if even that. Betrayal is often met by betrayal, and some of those closest to him, those who supported him in his dizzying climb to the top had decided it was time to act. What was really needed was a monster for the populace to hate; to change the course of Raust, and Gunther had been designated as that monster to knock the country out of it’s rut.
After a few words in the right places. the gathered people responded with a confused mob of pitchforks and fire (another national pastime, nothing’s better for meeting new people than a mob); there was a rather odd chase, and then lots of longwinded speeches about loyalty and the ‘right thing to do’ whatever that was, and the new ‘king’ was dragged away.
Gunther’s story was to end with a public execution after much malingering in what passed for Raust’s press, and possibly some faked reports…but it seemed more fun just to brand him, exile him and hope for a slow and amusing death of ridicule and shunning.
They were wrong.
Personality: A man’s ego is nothing to be trifled with; especially when bruised, broken and raped, over and over again. Constantly carrying a chip on his shoulder, Gunther is a sarcastic, snappish bastard, and only the worried…perhaps even paranoid look in his eyes betrays the actual feeling of loss that governs him. Having sold his honour, his skills and his body to the armed forces, to have them and his country turn on him, there’s…not much else.
He’s the former big fish of a little pond that got dropped into the ocean. It’s big. It’s scary, and he doesn’t quite know how to deal with it except to be nasty until everyone leaves him alone and let him come to terms with his amazing ability to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. O, [I]Karma!
Gunther’s also the kind of man you can keep kicking and he’ll still get up. Slowly, mind you. And a little bit unbalanced but give him a minute to catch his breath. His ego will continue to drive him, he will keep pushing onwards even if it means death – while his caustic opinions of the world alienate him (and stop him from being betrayed if he trusts anyone again) it also drives him to succeed once more, and possibly at whatever cost.
There is, however, a hidden side to him. A softer gentler side that was put away when the boy had to become a man. It can be glimpsed in those quite moments of reflection, the passing hand that touches a dog’s head or throws a scrap of food to the stray cat. The hand that cautiously cups the trapped butterfly and lets it outside, or wearily bandages up a skinned knee…Cruel he may be, but sometimes we must erect these walls to protect that tiny flame of hope that is in danger of being snuffed out.
‘Cos, you know, eventually he’ll run out of matches. Or some bugger’ll steal ‘em.
But hey, if a job needs to be done, or he needs you to get out of a sticky situation, he’ll do it. He’ll just send you horrible looks and frown at you a lot and then leave. Probably with most of the treasure, too.
Appearance: An albino in the truest sense of the world; he is the offspring of one of the last pure-blood mountain folk of his region and a soldier father after some wild partying and whoring. His father gave him his height and his broad shoulders and the defiant air about him…his mother gave him his colouration and the urge to get his hands dirty. He can’t remember much of either of them and that’s possibly a good thing because he’d want words with them. Mostly about self-control and keeping one’s pants on. But moving on:
He has the body of a soldier; muscled but not overly; lean from few meals and plenty of walking; but not thin. There are also scars too; from knife fights and maulings of trained hounds to childhood scraps and misadventures. His hair is ragged; having been cut rather haphazardly and beaded in places when he finds shiny things that interest him. Below his left eye are a pair of burns that stand out quite prominently on his cheekbone – the brand of a traitor. The wound there has sealed at least, but it’s ugly as sin and a constant reminder that he Failed.
The only abnormality he’s aware of from the time of weird twisting darkness and pain as everyone put the boot in on coronation day is the black stone that now lurks beneath his rib-cage. He has no idea how it got there, but it’s firmly stuck beneath his skin as if a wound healed around it, and no amount of fiddling has removed it because it hurts so much. That’s something he needs to look into, because he suspects it’s a curse, although why someone would do that to him along with everything else seems a little bit like overkill…or his paranoia speaking.
Clothing/Gear: Gunther is normally clad in simple, easy to move in things, and prefers to keep as much of his body covered as possible due to his dislike of sunlight. This takes the form of long sleeved tunics over thickly woven pants and sturdy walking boots in shades of brown and grey. Over said pants he wears leather chaps; and while this might scream gay cowboy; Gunther can’t seem to get on with horses and has found that walking tends to lead him into things that hurt and tear.
Twin belts grace his hips; a knife on his right (he’s right handed) some lengths of rope (you can never have too much rope), beef jerky he still can’t bring himself to eat and what scraps of gold he can find to survive, and a water flask as well. There are other things too, but he’s not the kind of man who’ll turn out his pockets for you.
Over everything he wears a long, hooded jacket, with sleeves cut off at the elbows and flared with a few tears. Tied with toggles; the jacket does give him the vague appearance of an apprentice magic-user, it’s mostly to shade his face and keep the sun off him so he doesn’t faint or blind himself.
Lastly, he is a boxer-brief man, if such things exist on Althanas. Swinging free is great, but not so great when you’re being chased by something, and y-fronts ride like bloody crazy. It’s hard to save your own skin when you have to free the wedgie making your life just that little bit more miserable in a time of crisis.
Equipment: Apart from the usual odds and sods that travellers carry around with them, Gunther has a kit for the more basic of injuries. A leather satchel he’s still breaking in carries all manner of linen bandages, needles and fine string, and little glass jars full of dried herbs his tutors were adamant could do wonders to wounds. These are often stored beside his tea-leaves which sometimes leads to interesting results if he doesn’t sniff what he’s drinking first. Apart from that he carries a flat stone and pestle as well, along with empty jars for further acquisitions to his kit, and of course, a knife lifted from the guards who threw him out.
He also carries chalk and charcoal with him to draw out the appropriate sigils to trap things with. He has yet to be able to do them correctly, but is getting better.
Skills:
SURVIVAL: Drawing from his skills as a soldier, Gunther is able to sustain himself for a fair while off the land. Well versed in the hunting of game (as well as cooking it and tanning the skin for a dapper pair of pants if needs be) he’s also fairly good at knowing which plants and roots you can eat and which ones will send you on a fine trip that might end in death. It’s also important to note that his stamina to withstand bad conditions is also fairly good; he will last without cover a little longer than your average hunter.
Hunting/Preparing game; average
Foraging; above average
Stamina; above average
COMBAT: Gunther can also hold his own in a fist-fight and does keep a knife on him for anything up close and personal. He’s fast and good on his feet…the only issue is time. It’s only recently that quick exertion and a heavy weight tires him out faster rendering him useless in a few minutes or so depending on the fight. It is because of this that he can’t lift a sword and take on someone and has opted for the knife instead.
He is, however, adaptable, and an opportunist. If something’s not at hand in a fight, he’ll find something; be it a chair, a bottle, or stealing that dwarf’s crossbow from over the room.
Hand to hand combat; above average.
Knife combat; average.
SUMMONING: Gunther has never been exposed to magic before on a personal level; so to him, summoning is hard, painful, tedious and beyond his patience at this current moment in time. It’s also, he finds, useless, which is why the creatures that are attracted to him are mostly used to distract people or monsters while he attempts to leg it.
He’s not even sure how to do it either, which furthers his embarrassment.
After conning a creature into a particular insignia drawn on the ground, he can ‘devour’ it’s essence and make it become one with him. This means, however, that any injury sustained by said creatures in battle or in play will be inflicted onto his flesh, he will feel their hunger and vice-versa and be at their mercy with their constant chatter and arguments.
So in other words, he doesn’t do it very often.
In battle, a creature is summoned from his shadow and able to hold its’ form for about six seconds (just enough to take the attention away from him) before fading away again. His shadow may be anywhere; but if there is little to no shadow; he’s on his own.
Gunther must rest for a half hour after calling anything into existence. Mostly due to the headache caused by yelling, mewlings for comfort and internal fighting for ‘who’s best’. He can still move, but combat is best to be avoided.
All ‘summons’ must be beaten into submission via rp, and will level up accordingly through roleplay and events onsite.
Gunther is currently unaware of his abilities, and has no creatures in his summoning slots. I felt it important to explain how his power works to get it cleared first; then allow the first rp or two to have the first pop up.
Generic poses make him unhappy :(
Name: Gunther Rustig Bellum
Summoner Name: Mute Ragnarok (Moo-tay Rag-nar-rok)
Sex: Male.
Age: 35
Race: Human.
Kingship of Origin: Raust
Hair Colour: White, messy and badly cut.
Eye Colour: Red
Height: 5’9
Weight: Doesn’t stand for this kind of silliness.
Occupation: Apprentice Summoner, exiled soldier
Former occupation: General, King-for-a-Day, Scarer of Children at Bedtime
Temperament: Occasionally stubborn, overlaid with nervousness.
Religion: Agnostic with a healthy dose of salt.
Strengths: Willpower, adaptability, intelligent, a good liar, being diplomatic and a good cook.
Weaknesses: Sunlight (causing dizziness and fainting spells with prolonged exposure.) mistrust, languages, begging from his summons.
Likes: Cooking, finding food in general that’s edible, baths and people not harassing him.
Dislikes: Magic, demons, spiders, being hunted, people who exiled him, spiders, bad beer, cold noses in sensitive places and did I mention he is petrified of spiders?
History: Raust is nothing to write home about when it came to your local kingships in the world of Althanas...primarily because there’s just so many of them. Average economy, fairly good military, it was a ‘peaceful mountain kingdom’ that happily waged war against it’s neighbours for cheap thrills and whatever gold they could find, being that they’re a bunch of racist, magic-hating bastards who you couldn’t trust with a plastic fork let alone your passport.
Among those was Gunther.
Raised with the other Courtlings away from his ‘parents’ (as accidents do happen in court so it’s best to let them run wild until you can weed out the stupid ones) he was pressed into service after showing a love of learning and the ability to read and write (definite officer material there). He became a soldier that rose through the ranks to eventually get to the level of general…and enjoy all the perks, corrupt or otherwise that came with it seeing as nobody had exactly given these to him before and they were quite nice.
He was good at it too; as being the butt of playground jokes, even in the royal castle itself tends to give you a hardened skin, a slightly better perspective of people in general and be really, really good at hitting people where they hurt most. In country kingdoms where the national past-time was staring at trees or sheep, General Bellum was a name to be feared and children were scared to their beds with some rather exaggerated exploits (except the one with the flying dogs was true, the guy at the pub said so.). Perfect material for a long career in pillaging, burning, and consensual rough sex.
It was only a matter of time before the pale prick got it into his head that the current king of Raust wasn’t doing such a good job, and someone could do better. A lot better. All crowns, after all, are won in blood.
So the king was quietly slain with a sleeping poison (because there were some nice memories; even if he was now a crazy old git, he didn't need to suffer). The only surviving relative, the young crown prince (Proven! He was genuine!) was spirited away because killing kids is generally wrong and Gunther knew the value of a good arch enemy - the peasants needed something to root for after all when things got boring and the other kingdoms were sulking too much to play 'kidnap '.
But it was all remarkably easy. Too easy, Gunther thought, accepting the crown and being handed the first drink in front of the confused populace.
He was right of course; and was only king for a day if even that. Betrayal is often met by betrayal, and some of those closest to him, those who supported him in his dizzying climb to the top had decided it was time to act. What was really needed was a monster for the populace to hate; to change the course of Raust, and Gunther had been designated as that monster to knock the country out of it’s rut.
After a few words in the right places. the gathered people responded with a confused mob of pitchforks and fire (another national pastime, nothing’s better for meeting new people than a mob); there was a rather odd chase, and then lots of longwinded speeches about loyalty and the ‘right thing to do’ whatever that was, and the new ‘king’ was dragged away.
Gunther’s story was to end with a public execution after much malingering in what passed for Raust’s press, and possibly some faked reports…but it seemed more fun just to brand him, exile him and hope for a slow and amusing death of ridicule and shunning.
They were wrong.
Personality: A man’s ego is nothing to be trifled with; especially when bruised, broken and raped, over and over again. Constantly carrying a chip on his shoulder, Gunther is a sarcastic, snappish bastard, and only the worried…perhaps even paranoid look in his eyes betrays the actual feeling of loss that governs him. Having sold his honour, his skills and his body to the armed forces, to have them and his country turn on him, there’s…not much else.
He’s the former big fish of a little pond that got dropped into the ocean. It’s big. It’s scary, and he doesn’t quite know how to deal with it except to be nasty until everyone leaves him alone and let him come to terms with his amazing ability to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. O, [I]Karma!
Gunther’s also the kind of man you can keep kicking and he’ll still get up. Slowly, mind you. And a little bit unbalanced but give him a minute to catch his breath. His ego will continue to drive him, he will keep pushing onwards even if it means death – while his caustic opinions of the world alienate him (and stop him from being betrayed if he trusts anyone again) it also drives him to succeed once more, and possibly at whatever cost.
There is, however, a hidden side to him. A softer gentler side that was put away when the boy had to become a man. It can be glimpsed in those quite moments of reflection, the passing hand that touches a dog’s head or throws a scrap of food to the stray cat. The hand that cautiously cups the trapped butterfly and lets it outside, or wearily bandages up a skinned knee…Cruel he may be, but sometimes we must erect these walls to protect that tiny flame of hope that is in danger of being snuffed out.
‘Cos, you know, eventually he’ll run out of matches. Or some bugger’ll steal ‘em.
But hey, if a job needs to be done, or he needs you to get out of a sticky situation, he’ll do it. He’ll just send you horrible looks and frown at you a lot and then leave. Probably with most of the treasure, too.
Appearance: An albino in the truest sense of the world; he is the offspring of one of the last pure-blood mountain folk of his region and a soldier father after some wild partying and whoring. His father gave him his height and his broad shoulders and the defiant air about him…his mother gave him his colouration and the urge to get his hands dirty. He can’t remember much of either of them and that’s possibly a good thing because he’d want words with them. Mostly about self-control and keeping one’s pants on. But moving on:
He has the body of a soldier; muscled but not overly; lean from few meals and plenty of walking; but not thin. There are also scars too; from knife fights and maulings of trained hounds to childhood scraps and misadventures. His hair is ragged; having been cut rather haphazardly and beaded in places when he finds shiny things that interest him. Below his left eye are a pair of burns that stand out quite prominently on his cheekbone – the brand of a traitor. The wound there has sealed at least, but it’s ugly as sin and a constant reminder that he Failed.
The only abnormality he’s aware of from the time of weird twisting darkness and pain as everyone put the boot in on coronation day is the black stone that now lurks beneath his rib-cage. He has no idea how it got there, but it’s firmly stuck beneath his skin as if a wound healed around it, and no amount of fiddling has removed it because it hurts so much. That’s something he needs to look into, because he suspects it’s a curse, although why someone would do that to him along with everything else seems a little bit like overkill…or his paranoia speaking.
Clothing/Gear: Gunther is normally clad in simple, easy to move in things, and prefers to keep as much of his body covered as possible due to his dislike of sunlight. This takes the form of long sleeved tunics over thickly woven pants and sturdy walking boots in shades of brown and grey. Over said pants he wears leather chaps; and while this might scream gay cowboy; Gunther can’t seem to get on with horses and has found that walking tends to lead him into things that hurt and tear.
Twin belts grace his hips; a knife on his right (he’s right handed) some lengths of rope (you can never have too much rope), beef jerky he still can’t bring himself to eat and what scraps of gold he can find to survive, and a water flask as well. There are other things too, but he’s not the kind of man who’ll turn out his pockets for you.
Over everything he wears a long, hooded jacket, with sleeves cut off at the elbows and flared with a few tears. Tied with toggles; the jacket does give him the vague appearance of an apprentice magic-user, it’s mostly to shade his face and keep the sun off him so he doesn’t faint or blind himself.
Lastly, he is a boxer-brief man, if such things exist on Althanas. Swinging free is great, but not so great when you’re being chased by something, and y-fronts ride like bloody crazy. It’s hard to save your own skin when you have to free the wedgie making your life just that little bit more miserable in a time of crisis.
Equipment: Apart from the usual odds and sods that travellers carry around with them, Gunther has a kit for the more basic of injuries. A leather satchel he’s still breaking in carries all manner of linen bandages, needles and fine string, and little glass jars full of dried herbs his tutors were adamant could do wonders to wounds. These are often stored beside his tea-leaves which sometimes leads to interesting results if he doesn’t sniff what he’s drinking first. Apart from that he carries a flat stone and pestle as well, along with empty jars for further acquisitions to his kit, and of course, a knife lifted from the guards who threw him out.
He also carries chalk and charcoal with him to draw out the appropriate sigils to trap things with. He has yet to be able to do them correctly, but is getting better.
Skills:
SURVIVAL: Drawing from his skills as a soldier, Gunther is able to sustain himself for a fair while off the land. Well versed in the hunting of game (as well as cooking it and tanning the skin for a dapper pair of pants if needs be) he’s also fairly good at knowing which plants and roots you can eat and which ones will send you on a fine trip that might end in death. It’s also important to note that his stamina to withstand bad conditions is also fairly good; he will last without cover a little longer than your average hunter.
Hunting/Preparing game; average
Foraging; above average
Stamina; above average
COMBAT: Gunther can also hold his own in a fist-fight and does keep a knife on him for anything up close and personal. He’s fast and good on his feet…the only issue is time. It’s only recently that quick exertion and a heavy weight tires him out faster rendering him useless in a few minutes or so depending on the fight. It is because of this that he can’t lift a sword and take on someone and has opted for the knife instead.
He is, however, adaptable, and an opportunist. If something’s not at hand in a fight, he’ll find something; be it a chair, a bottle, or stealing that dwarf’s crossbow from over the room.
Hand to hand combat; above average.
Knife combat; average.
SUMMONING: Gunther has never been exposed to magic before on a personal level; so to him, summoning is hard, painful, tedious and beyond his patience at this current moment in time. It’s also, he finds, useless, which is why the creatures that are attracted to him are mostly used to distract people or monsters while he attempts to leg it.
He’s not even sure how to do it either, which furthers his embarrassment.
After conning a creature into a particular insignia drawn on the ground, he can ‘devour’ it’s essence and make it become one with him. This means, however, that any injury sustained by said creatures in battle or in play will be inflicted onto his flesh, he will feel their hunger and vice-versa and be at their mercy with their constant chatter and arguments.
So in other words, he doesn’t do it very often.
In battle, a creature is summoned from his shadow and able to hold its’ form for about six seconds (just enough to take the attention away from him) before fading away again. His shadow may be anywhere; but if there is little to no shadow; he’s on his own.
Gunther must rest for a half hour after calling anything into existence. Mostly due to the headache caused by yelling, mewlings for comfort and internal fighting for ‘who’s best’. He can still move, but combat is best to be avoided.
All ‘summons’ must be beaten into submission via rp, and will level up accordingly through roleplay and events onsite.
Gunther is currently unaware of his abilities, and has no creatures in his summoning slots. I felt it important to explain how his power works to get it cleared first; then allow the first rp or two to have the first pop up.