Pocketfox
01-07-09, 01:59 PM
Name: Ayer
Age: Unknown
Race: Wood Elf.
Hair Color: Brown-Grey.
Eye Color: Amethyst.
Height/Weight: A well-fed 6'5".
Occupation:Metal smith, to the lowest degree. He tinkers only to cure his own endless boredom and to aid his own quests.
Personality:
At first a kind gentleman: opening doors for those who need them opened, quipping at will, and being an all around 'nice-guy'. He bows to the ladies, firmly shakes the hand of any man, but his friends know him for the true beast within.
A ladies-man through and through, coupled with a crude and unusual sense of humor and the wits to match, Ayer delights in nothing more than a well placed pun to send his enemies reeling. The feelings of others seem to pass right through him, more oft than not, which leads him to be called 'heartless'.
Appearance:
Ayer is a tall, casual fellow upon first glance with well-tanned skin for his kind and a pair of neatly tucked away elven-ears. Framing his narrow face is messily cut but ever straight brownish-grey hair. Beneath are his one true pride, a set of clear amethyst eyes that seem to pierce the soul along with his tireless grin. He dresses himself well: a pair of corduroys and a silken dress shirt, from time to time donning his light leather armor. He prefers, if anything to stay in a more composed and natural state.
Equipment and Items:
Short bow and Quiver: When close combat is not advised or necessary. It's well worn and he has average skill with it, though it has no special importance to him. Both it and it's arrows are made of yew and fletching goose feathers.
Hunting Knife: A long and cruel looking blade strapped to his hip with a handle of antler, kept in prime conditions at all times. Good for a simple stab or blade fight when necessary, it serves purpose for all types of combat- as far as Ayer is concerned.
Cheap Knives: A set of two daggers made out of any cheap material he could find at the time, they usually remain affixed to his boots and out of the way. They've been designed for throwing, but their purposes can vary.
One pair of Heavy black boots: In which he keeps a plethora of tinkering tools, knives, and anything else that seems convenient to fit in. Armed with a wide array of buckles that he uses as sheaths, he considers them his 'backpack'. He wears them only when he feels his feet could not survive the walk.
Tinkering tools: An array of small fine-tip hammers and metals stashed away in his boots and used for...tinkering. Using them as weapons would prove useless and most likely break them.
One Vial of 'Living Flame': No more than a vial on a string around his slender neck, a tendril of seemingly impossible flame resides within, washing over it's sides and creating no scorch or ash to speak of. When asked about it, Ayer merely dismisses it as something he found while walking. It seems to have sentimental value to him.
History:
Ayer left the womb with a desire to flee his ritualistic and stereo-typical elvish community. He loathed the days he spent in their tree-houses and loathed even more the school of strict Elven culture. At a young age he stole his first yew bow and hunting blade from the elven stores and fled into the wilderness, finding the urge to escape all to dire. The community was in no way phased by this, seeing it as his 'way to becoming a better Elf'.
He traveled deep into the forest, past the trails of city hunting patrols and passing caravans in the desire for his own self-fulfilling knowledge of himself and the world around him. Fittingly, the sky opened up that night and poured cold rain. Nearly catching Pneumonia, he found a cave and sheltered himself inside for the night, surprised in the morning to find out that the rock that had seemed so soft was a bear. He kept her company for several years as he trained and studied, becoming quite fluent in the language of animals and average with the skill of his knife. He left after twenty years, when he says he became tired of staring at the same set of trees and rocks.
He stumbled upon a path and caravan quickly, looting them and picking up the facade of a metal smith from one of the caravan's men. He learned to tinker with the man's tools and eventually took a liking to it.
How his humor became what it is remains a mystery, but the company of one's self for several years could offer a decent enough reason.
Skills:
Empath: Though he fails to realize, Ayer has the ability to read peoples emotions like books. When he comes into knowledge of this ability and begins to master it, he will have the abilities to impose his emotions physically upon others, as impose the extreme of an emotion upon them.
Improved Reflexes: Thought no master of his own body and where it may go, the average man seems quite sluggish to him, and his twists and turns have been known to get him out of a fix.
Age: Unknown
Race: Wood Elf.
Hair Color: Brown-Grey.
Eye Color: Amethyst.
Height/Weight: A well-fed 6'5".
Occupation:Metal smith, to the lowest degree. He tinkers only to cure his own endless boredom and to aid his own quests.
Personality:
At first a kind gentleman: opening doors for those who need them opened, quipping at will, and being an all around 'nice-guy'. He bows to the ladies, firmly shakes the hand of any man, but his friends know him for the true beast within.
A ladies-man through and through, coupled with a crude and unusual sense of humor and the wits to match, Ayer delights in nothing more than a well placed pun to send his enemies reeling. The feelings of others seem to pass right through him, more oft than not, which leads him to be called 'heartless'.
Appearance:
Ayer is a tall, casual fellow upon first glance with well-tanned skin for his kind and a pair of neatly tucked away elven-ears. Framing his narrow face is messily cut but ever straight brownish-grey hair. Beneath are his one true pride, a set of clear amethyst eyes that seem to pierce the soul along with his tireless grin. He dresses himself well: a pair of corduroys and a silken dress shirt, from time to time donning his light leather armor. He prefers, if anything to stay in a more composed and natural state.
Equipment and Items:
Short bow and Quiver: When close combat is not advised or necessary. It's well worn and he has average skill with it, though it has no special importance to him. Both it and it's arrows are made of yew and fletching goose feathers.
Hunting Knife: A long and cruel looking blade strapped to his hip with a handle of antler, kept in prime conditions at all times. Good for a simple stab or blade fight when necessary, it serves purpose for all types of combat- as far as Ayer is concerned.
Cheap Knives: A set of two daggers made out of any cheap material he could find at the time, they usually remain affixed to his boots and out of the way. They've been designed for throwing, but their purposes can vary.
One pair of Heavy black boots: In which he keeps a plethora of tinkering tools, knives, and anything else that seems convenient to fit in. Armed with a wide array of buckles that he uses as sheaths, he considers them his 'backpack'. He wears them only when he feels his feet could not survive the walk.
Tinkering tools: An array of small fine-tip hammers and metals stashed away in his boots and used for...tinkering. Using them as weapons would prove useless and most likely break them.
One Vial of 'Living Flame': No more than a vial on a string around his slender neck, a tendril of seemingly impossible flame resides within, washing over it's sides and creating no scorch or ash to speak of. When asked about it, Ayer merely dismisses it as something he found while walking. It seems to have sentimental value to him.
History:
Ayer left the womb with a desire to flee his ritualistic and stereo-typical elvish community. He loathed the days he spent in their tree-houses and loathed even more the school of strict Elven culture. At a young age he stole his first yew bow and hunting blade from the elven stores and fled into the wilderness, finding the urge to escape all to dire. The community was in no way phased by this, seeing it as his 'way to becoming a better Elf'.
He traveled deep into the forest, past the trails of city hunting patrols and passing caravans in the desire for his own self-fulfilling knowledge of himself and the world around him. Fittingly, the sky opened up that night and poured cold rain. Nearly catching Pneumonia, he found a cave and sheltered himself inside for the night, surprised in the morning to find out that the rock that had seemed so soft was a bear. He kept her company for several years as he trained and studied, becoming quite fluent in the language of animals and average with the skill of his knife. He left after twenty years, when he says he became tired of staring at the same set of trees and rocks.
He stumbled upon a path and caravan quickly, looting them and picking up the facade of a metal smith from one of the caravan's men. He learned to tinker with the man's tools and eventually took a liking to it.
How his humor became what it is remains a mystery, but the company of one's self for several years could offer a decent enough reason.
Skills:
Empath: Though he fails to realize, Ayer has the ability to read peoples emotions like books. When he comes into knowledge of this ability and begins to master it, he will have the abilities to impose his emotions physically upon others, as impose the extreme of an emotion upon them.
Improved Reflexes: Thought no master of his own body and where it may go, the average man seems quite sluggish to him, and his twists and turns have been known to get him out of a fix.