Tuxlie
07-16-06, 05:22 PM
Name: Tuxlie Permiander
Age: 37
Race: Humanoid
Hair Color: N/A
Eye Color: Vivid blue, with small specks of teal
Height: 5'4"
Weight: 166
Personality: How rude of you to even question my behavior. Just because I am lost in this ghastly form does not mean I am some sort of barbaric animal. I am as normal as you and your kin, assuming you are of normal breed. Sure, I may look like a creature from the Deep, but I can assure you I possess the manners of royalty. While I am not particularly thrilled with the current authority of Corone, I am a respectful erm...being. I try my hardest not to resist the wishes of the nobles in our world, but if it is something that goes strongly against my beliefs, I will make a stand. Ugh, what am I saying? That is what got me in this predicament in the first place!
Appearance: I used to be a handsome, strong, respectable gentleman, one whose dark brown locks and strong, toned muscles could make even the most beautiful women swoon. But no, that's all gone now. I'm not caught in this disgusting form, cursed for years by it's disturbing appearance. My skin appears slick and slimy, though I can assure you it is completely dry. I look like...like a frog. It is the curse that this wench has put upon me! Each day I feel it's passing depth growing upon me, the beast part of me taking over and becoming less of what I was. I am still a good man, and I will always be...but now I am marked by the form of a toad. A common frog! Luckily, this armor that lay across my body keeps me somewhat shielded from the cruelty of the outside world. It is rough, yes, and very worn, but it still does good to hide my true shape. And this cloak I wear...it hides my frog-like face from the rest of the world.
History: Oh, where does it begin? Where did it go wrong? All questions that I am sure you would like answered. As lovely as I'm sure this all seems to you, my life has been anything but. Call it self-pity if you wish, but how would you be feeling if you were stuck in this same situation?!
It goes back to when I was still a strong, human male. I was the pride of Corone, well liked and respected by most nobles. I had taken down many a criminal in my time, but there was always one more, anxious to pick of the pieces of his dreaded predecessor. Never a moments rest, that you can be certain of. So when I had heard about this 'Madame Beuxome', I thought nothing of it. As far as I was concerned, this wench would be simply a minor speed bump to continue building my legacy. Little did I know the pain I was about to endure.
So I come upon the evil witch, hiding out the in the grottos of some slums in a nameless town that bears no significance in our story. I came face to face with her, and for a great while we dueled, my swordsmanship against her dark crafts. This went on forever, with no clear winner in sight. I devised a clever scheme to finish her once and for all. All I would need to do was cause her to become so confounded with her castings that she lost track of me. Then I would simply slice her head off and be done with it. Needless to say, the bloody whore had something to say about this.
Things had gone flawlessly, and just as I was about to sever her skull, I decided to whisper a few choice words in her ear. This was clearly not a wise decision on my part...I was not prone to boasting over a kill, but after she'd given me such a hard time, I decided it was within my realm of allowance to taunt her a bit. It was within these last few seconds of whispering these words to her that she plagued me. I was to be stuck for all eternity in this form, never allowed to lead the normal life that I had once lead. The words of devilry with which she spoke were foreign to my ears, but I do know that the hiss that followed was no common witchcraft.
So I had defeated the spawn of the Underlord, and figured things would be back to normal. Little did I know the surprise and fright that would overtake me in the morning that followed. My breathing sounded different, my body felt stretched and tired...it was the most awkward sensation. The pain that was struck into my heart, I shall never forget. To say that I was no longer accepted in society in this ghastly form is an understatement. Now that I had the appearance of a frog, it appeared that I did not deserve the common courtesy that I had been given before.
So here I stand today, my mouth feeling parched and poisoned after the words I have just spoken to you. Do not ask that I repeat that story again, for it wears to heavily on my heart to think of the life I used to live. But mark my words, listener, that I will one day return to my former self and reclaim the glory that was mine.
Skills: I possess no true skills that stand out. I was not even fortunate enough to be graced with the extraordinary leaping ability of a true frog. Sure, I may be able to get an extra few inches off the ground, but I am not going to take the time to hone the fine art of 'jumping'. That would be most absurd.
I do think, however, that I am a rather fair swordsman. No better than any other with proper training, however. I am what one would call, resourceful. Many swordsman can be elevated to even greater abilities if they simply use all things available to them. I have realized this, and as such, consider myself to be a rather decent fencer.
Equipment: I carry nothing on my person aside from a small bag of provisions and a few coins.
As far as weapons go, however, I do love my crystal clean blade Exthelion. Named for my father, it is a beautiful steel sword. Nothing truly special about it other than it's sentimental value. A few foreign symbols crawl up the sides of it in what looks to be some words in a strange language. I do not know the tongue, however, and I doubt it means anything.
My armor is little more than weak mail. What used to be considered some of the best protection that gold could buy, is now little more than a pathetic mix of rugged gear that would most likely be unable to withstand many blows of a sword or spear or axe.
So now perhaps you see how my life has been tragically altered by some rather unfortunate events. Mark my word, though, that one day I shall return to my former self, and shed this disturbing frog image.
Age: 37
Race: Humanoid
Hair Color: N/A
Eye Color: Vivid blue, with small specks of teal
Height: 5'4"
Weight: 166
Personality: How rude of you to even question my behavior. Just because I am lost in this ghastly form does not mean I am some sort of barbaric animal. I am as normal as you and your kin, assuming you are of normal breed. Sure, I may look like a creature from the Deep, but I can assure you I possess the manners of royalty. While I am not particularly thrilled with the current authority of Corone, I am a respectful erm...being. I try my hardest not to resist the wishes of the nobles in our world, but if it is something that goes strongly against my beliefs, I will make a stand. Ugh, what am I saying? That is what got me in this predicament in the first place!
Appearance: I used to be a handsome, strong, respectable gentleman, one whose dark brown locks and strong, toned muscles could make even the most beautiful women swoon. But no, that's all gone now. I'm not caught in this disgusting form, cursed for years by it's disturbing appearance. My skin appears slick and slimy, though I can assure you it is completely dry. I look like...like a frog. It is the curse that this wench has put upon me! Each day I feel it's passing depth growing upon me, the beast part of me taking over and becoming less of what I was. I am still a good man, and I will always be...but now I am marked by the form of a toad. A common frog! Luckily, this armor that lay across my body keeps me somewhat shielded from the cruelty of the outside world. It is rough, yes, and very worn, but it still does good to hide my true shape. And this cloak I wear...it hides my frog-like face from the rest of the world.
History: Oh, where does it begin? Where did it go wrong? All questions that I am sure you would like answered. As lovely as I'm sure this all seems to you, my life has been anything but. Call it self-pity if you wish, but how would you be feeling if you were stuck in this same situation?!
It goes back to when I was still a strong, human male. I was the pride of Corone, well liked and respected by most nobles. I had taken down many a criminal in my time, but there was always one more, anxious to pick of the pieces of his dreaded predecessor. Never a moments rest, that you can be certain of. So when I had heard about this 'Madame Beuxome', I thought nothing of it. As far as I was concerned, this wench would be simply a minor speed bump to continue building my legacy. Little did I know the pain I was about to endure.
So I come upon the evil witch, hiding out the in the grottos of some slums in a nameless town that bears no significance in our story. I came face to face with her, and for a great while we dueled, my swordsmanship against her dark crafts. This went on forever, with no clear winner in sight. I devised a clever scheme to finish her once and for all. All I would need to do was cause her to become so confounded with her castings that she lost track of me. Then I would simply slice her head off and be done with it. Needless to say, the bloody whore had something to say about this.
Things had gone flawlessly, and just as I was about to sever her skull, I decided to whisper a few choice words in her ear. This was clearly not a wise decision on my part...I was not prone to boasting over a kill, but after she'd given me such a hard time, I decided it was within my realm of allowance to taunt her a bit. It was within these last few seconds of whispering these words to her that she plagued me. I was to be stuck for all eternity in this form, never allowed to lead the normal life that I had once lead. The words of devilry with which she spoke were foreign to my ears, but I do know that the hiss that followed was no common witchcraft.
So I had defeated the spawn of the Underlord, and figured things would be back to normal. Little did I know the surprise and fright that would overtake me in the morning that followed. My breathing sounded different, my body felt stretched and tired...it was the most awkward sensation. The pain that was struck into my heart, I shall never forget. To say that I was no longer accepted in society in this ghastly form is an understatement. Now that I had the appearance of a frog, it appeared that I did not deserve the common courtesy that I had been given before.
So here I stand today, my mouth feeling parched and poisoned after the words I have just spoken to you. Do not ask that I repeat that story again, for it wears to heavily on my heart to think of the life I used to live. But mark my words, listener, that I will one day return to my former self and reclaim the glory that was mine.
Skills: I possess no true skills that stand out. I was not even fortunate enough to be graced with the extraordinary leaping ability of a true frog. Sure, I may be able to get an extra few inches off the ground, but I am not going to take the time to hone the fine art of 'jumping'. That would be most absurd.
I do think, however, that I am a rather fair swordsman. No better than any other with proper training, however. I am what one would call, resourceful. Many swordsman can be elevated to even greater abilities if they simply use all things available to them. I have realized this, and as such, consider myself to be a rather decent fencer.
Equipment: I carry nothing on my person aside from a small bag of provisions and a few coins.
As far as weapons go, however, I do love my crystal clean blade Exthelion. Named for my father, it is a beautiful steel sword. Nothing truly special about it other than it's sentimental value. A few foreign symbols crawl up the sides of it in what looks to be some words in a strange language. I do not know the tongue, however, and I doubt it means anything.
My armor is little more than weak mail. What used to be considered some of the best protection that gold could buy, is now little more than a pathetic mix of rugged gear that would most likely be unable to withstand many blows of a sword or spear or axe.
So now perhaps you see how my life has been tragically altered by some rather unfortunate events. Mark my word, though, that one day I shall return to my former self, and shed this disturbing frog image.