-Adal
09-22-09, 10:52 PM
~Adalbrecht Renard
B A S I C Information
Name: Adalbrecht Renard
Moniker(s): Adal, Abel
Age: 15
Sex: Male
Classification:Halfing (elf:human) // Homosuperior // Adventurer
Date of Birth: 05.26.
Religion: None
Martial Status: Single
Biological Parents: Deceased
Paylvic Renard [ Father ]
Freysia Renard [ Mother ]
P H Y S I C A L Statistics
Build: Athletic; lean
Complexion: Cream
Height: 175cm
Weight: 65.77kg
Blood Type: AB-
Eyes: Gray
Hair: Dirty Blue
Physical Appearance: A young face, inexperienced or seemingly lacking thereof wrapped in a veil of uncultured brashness shown through a pair of docile gray eyes. The over analytical gaze was only accentuated with the furrow of a hardly creased brow. A strong jaw, slenderized but not feminine in the slightest, possibly due to age, as well as unknown heritage coupled with cream skin. Adalbretch's young face, appearing to not yet be riddled with the mars and scars of constant battle, which was quite the contrary due to his circumstance; angular jaw, not yet graced with stubble showed a sense of innocence and naivety. A dark blue mane that shapes his face and falls down to just below his earlobe.
Standing at 175cm the youngster’s body structure is very intricate. Broad shoulders branched out down into arms that would sum up his build as a whole, compressed. When flexed the muscles in his arms were more distinct, even still while relaxed his arms were very distinguished, and defined. However, although he didn’t have a barrel chest, his muscles did hold some sort of shape, density, and strength. Along with the rest of his upper torso, his abdominal region was more than impressive, and definite abs accompanied his lithe, meager, and somewhat underestimated appearance. Below the belt was no different, with a set of both powerful thighs and calves which, over the years, has become the epitome of balance, speed, and power.
Proficiencies - Novice
Unarmed Combat: Years of gratuitous practice, countless strikes, and techniques engraved into his mind have paid off, accumulated to an index of information about the human genome, and structural integrity. While the assembly of moves have become unorthodox, street brawls, and training have improved the fluent transition between unnamed styles. While still in the area of a novice, he hopes to exceed these boundaries through guidance of a teacher, or at the very least more experience.
Swords: A man is only as good as the precision of the weapon he wields; even still there can be minor hiccups.
P S Y C H O L O G I C AL Review
Demeanor: While not your typical sword swinging hero Adalbrecht is like a breath of fresh air to the already dumb-down, and over hyped title. Though he keeps to himself that isn't any reason to label him as anti-social, hell, in some circumstances his personality could be looked at as downright comical. Between his astounding awkwardness with the ladies, to the lack of grace klutzy handling, all of this is accented by his ability to undersell personal accomplishments, and be his own obstacle. All of which stems from an unhealthy amount of guilt directed to an inability to protect those who are closest to him. Adalbrecht in short is a classical piece of work. Ripped from tomes of lackluster heroes that develop into something greater.
Habits: Insomnia
Likes / Dislikes: Food, Learning, Friends, Girls // Working.
A R M A M E N T S
Adal's armor received on his awakening as a warrior, Adal's primary attire consists of a long cloak, soiled through travel, worn to preserve discretion and beige. In continuation of his clothing, Adal's cloth inventory remains coordinated closely on light leather; his boots and other minuscule garments.
Material: Steel
Name: Arms of Glenn: Plate armor fitted to the forearms, held in place by adjustable leather straps. The surface scuffed with nicks, and scratches from altercations. While they are crafted from the same durable steel metal of the chest piece, it has been 'cooked' until it turned a nice marble gray. Another part of the Arms are the plates of metal against the back of his knuckle.
Material: Steel
Damascus: A blade that was originally crafted by Adal's own hand many years ago in which the exact date has long been lost. The blade holds mystical attributes that despite the endless training and effort delved into deepened understanding of it's existence portions of it remains unknown. Projected explicitly by the fundamental value of integrity assorted in its history. The Damascus held nominal symbolism scattered along the linear extent of its horizontal hilt which endowed an intricate wrap of customized mahogany leather wrought and worn. Elven marks crested the pommel, the hand-guard curved up like a crescent moon joined by the middle at the blade.
Material: Light Steel
Krall'ur: A chest piece, obsidian in color that fit flush against the small muscular chest of Adal. Crafted, and warmed by the fires of an experienced furnace, strengthened by magic, and allowed life through the beat of a hammer. The black steel from the deep mines have been used countless times for the sake of armor craft; but this ore was very different. It's purity, and dexterity were of superb quality, and it's perfection was only matched by the attention paid by a master craftsmen. [ Hardly worn in place of the typical woven top. ]
H I S TO R Y
The Birth
High pitched screamed echoed out from where in a new life was being born, the sounds of the mother were only matched by the sounds of the child taking its first breaths of the air. Pronounced a boy by the doctor, news that brought smiles to the father's face, and tears to the mothers adoring eyes—their child was perfect. Welcomed hands held the fresh born close to the chest, tears dotted the cheeks of the young a telltale sign of a loving parent.
The following years
First walks were taken, words yet unspoken as the child spread his wings to take on the world. Haphazard starts, through bramble bushes, knocking over chairs, shattering kitchenware, and almost falling from great heights; the parents knew the kid would be more than a handful. Early on an admiration for weapons had been noticed, excitement to see his fathers battle armor—anticipation to hear the draw of the sword, maybe he would grow to be a fighter, a lover, or an appreciator of life. A defender, an avenger in the event that his parents died of wrong dues or a servant of a great king. Pathways opened just as the eyes of the babe each morning, and each morning there was a new look of excitement thrill for the day that lay ahead.
As he grew older his name was spoken more frequently so much so that he was given a nickname “ Adal “ for the longer was a bit of a work on the tongue. With each call the parents could only smile the joy that he brought, had only been mischievous valor of games of pretend. Wood crafted swords for sparring practice, skills were honed or helped along by his fathers tutelage. It was only when the parents had been slain did the effectiveness of the lessons become a bit more important—as an orphan he was raised by a village of his parents peers, but left to his own solemn space he was only 11 forced to grow to fill the shoes of the one he admired most.
He longed for his mothers touch, a soft kiss a night, or his fathers strong words that gave him the courage to persevere in the hardest moments but the years fell away like the darkened autumn leaves until the teenage years where he set out on his own. Now a new chapter is to be written, upheld by his own sweat, the strong of his back, and the burdens he carries. The hopes of three instead of one he must fulfill but what path to walk, the hero, the defender, or an avenger against those who had brought such a depressing gloom to a bright life—only time will tell.
B A S I C Information
Name: Adalbrecht Renard
Moniker(s): Adal, Abel
Age: 15
Sex: Male
Classification:Halfing (elf:human) // Homosuperior // Adventurer
Date of Birth: 05.26.
Religion: None
Martial Status: Single
Biological Parents: Deceased
Paylvic Renard [ Father ]
Freysia Renard [ Mother ]
P H Y S I C A L Statistics
Build: Athletic; lean
Complexion: Cream
Height: 175cm
Weight: 65.77kg
Blood Type: AB-
Eyes: Gray
Hair: Dirty Blue
Physical Appearance: A young face, inexperienced or seemingly lacking thereof wrapped in a veil of uncultured brashness shown through a pair of docile gray eyes. The over analytical gaze was only accentuated with the furrow of a hardly creased brow. A strong jaw, slenderized but not feminine in the slightest, possibly due to age, as well as unknown heritage coupled with cream skin. Adalbretch's young face, appearing to not yet be riddled with the mars and scars of constant battle, which was quite the contrary due to his circumstance; angular jaw, not yet graced with stubble showed a sense of innocence and naivety. A dark blue mane that shapes his face and falls down to just below his earlobe.
Standing at 175cm the youngster’s body structure is very intricate. Broad shoulders branched out down into arms that would sum up his build as a whole, compressed. When flexed the muscles in his arms were more distinct, even still while relaxed his arms were very distinguished, and defined. However, although he didn’t have a barrel chest, his muscles did hold some sort of shape, density, and strength. Along with the rest of his upper torso, his abdominal region was more than impressive, and definite abs accompanied his lithe, meager, and somewhat underestimated appearance. Below the belt was no different, with a set of both powerful thighs and calves which, over the years, has become the epitome of balance, speed, and power.
Proficiencies - Novice
Unarmed Combat: Years of gratuitous practice, countless strikes, and techniques engraved into his mind have paid off, accumulated to an index of information about the human genome, and structural integrity. While the assembly of moves have become unorthodox, street brawls, and training have improved the fluent transition between unnamed styles. While still in the area of a novice, he hopes to exceed these boundaries through guidance of a teacher, or at the very least more experience.
Swords: A man is only as good as the precision of the weapon he wields; even still there can be minor hiccups.
P S Y C H O L O G I C AL Review
Demeanor: While not your typical sword swinging hero Adalbrecht is like a breath of fresh air to the already dumb-down, and over hyped title. Though he keeps to himself that isn't any reason to label him as anti-social, hell, in some circumstances his personality could be looked at as downright comical. Between his astounding awkwardness with the ladies, to the lack of grace klutzy handling, all of this is accented by his ability to undersell personal accomplishments, and be his own obstacle. All of which stems from an unhealthy amount of guilt directed to an inability to protect those who are closest to him. Adalbrecht in short is a classical piece of work. Ripped from tomes of lackluster heroes that develop into something greater.
Habits: Insomnia
Likes / Dislikes: Food, Learning, Friends, Girls // Working.
A R M A M E N T S
Adal's armor received on his awakening as a warrior, Adal's primary attire consists of a long cloak, soiled through travel, worn to preserve discretion and beige. In continuation of his clothing, Adal's cloth inventory remains coordinated closely on light leather; his boots and other minuscule garments.
Material: Steel
Name: Arms of Glenn: Plate armor fitted to the forearms, held in place by adjustable leather straps. The surface scuffed with nicks, and scratches from altercations. While they are crafted from the same durable steel metal of the chest piece, it has been 'cooked' until it turned a nice marble gray. Another part of the Arms are the plates of metal against the back of his knuckle.
Material: Steel
Damascus: A blade that was originally crafted by Adal's own hand many years ago in which the exact date has long been lost. The blade holds mystical attributes that despite the endless training and effort delved into deepened understanding of it's existence portions of it remains unknown. Projected explicitly by the fundamental value of integrity assorted in its history. The Damascus held nominal symbolism scattered along the linear extent of its horizontal hilt which endowed an intricate wrap of customized mahogany leather wrought and worn. Elven marks crested the pommel, the hand-guard curved up like a crescent moon joined by the middle at the blade.
Material: Light Steel
Krall'ur: A chest piece, obsidian in color that fit flush against the small muscular chest of Adal. Crafted, and warmed by the fires of an experienced furnace, strengthened by magic, and allowed life through the beat of a hammer. The black steel from the deep mines have been used countless times for the sake of armor craft; but this ore was very different. It's purity, and dexterity were of superb quality, and it's perfection was only matched by the attention paid by a master craftsmen. [ Hardly worn in place of the typical woven top. ]
H I S TO R Y
The Birth
High pitched screamed echoed out from where in a new life was being born, the sounds of the mother were only matched by the sounds of the child taking its first breaths of the air. Pronounced a boy by the doctor, news that brought smiles to the father's face, and tears to the mothers adoring eyes—their child was perfect. Welcomed hands held the fresh born close to the chest, tears dotted the cheeks of the young a telltale sign of a loving parent.
The following years
First walks were taken, words yet unspoken as the child spread his wings to take on the world. Haphazard starts, through bramble bushes, knocking over chairs, shattering kitchenware, and almost falling from great heights; the parents knew the kid would be more than a handful. Early on an admiration for weapons had been noticed, excitement to see his fathers battle armor—anticipation to hear the draw of the sword, maybe he would grow to be a fighter, a lover, or an appreciator of life. A defender, an avenger in the event that his parents died of wrong dues or a servant of a great king. Pathways opened just as the eyes of the babe each morning, and each morning there was a new look of excitement thrill for the day that lay ahead.
As he grew older his name was spoken more frequently so much so that he was given a nickname “ Adal “ for the longer was a bit of a work on the tongue. With each call the parents could only smile the joy that he brought, had only been mischievous valor of games of pretend. Wood crafted swords for sparring practice, skills were honed or helped along by his fathers tutelage. It was only when the parents had been slain did the effectiveness of the lessons become a bit more important—as an orphan he was raised by a village of his parents peers, but left to his own solemn space he was only 11 forced to grow to fill the shoes of the one he admired most.
He longed for his mothers touch, a soft kiss a night, or his fathers strong words that gave him the courage to persevere in the hardest moments but the years fell away like the darkened autumn leaves until the teenage years where he set out on his own. Now a new chapter is to be written, upheld by his own sweat, the strong of his back, and the burdens he carries. The hopes of three instead of one he must fulfill but what path to walk, the hero, the defender, or an avenger against those who had brought such a depressing gloom to a bright life—only time will tell.