Bohemia
10-03-11, 08:07 PM
Name: Jonathon "Jon" King
Aliases/Nicknames: Jonny, The King of Fools
Age: 24
Height: 6'4"
Weight: 264 lbs
Hair Colour: Jon dyed it black just before his death on earth, and when he was reincarnated here, it strangely became his natural hair color.
Eye Colour: Hazel (Green with brown spots)
Distinguishing Marks: Tattoos - A pattern of flames and nautical stars covering his forearms, twin lightning bolts on both elbows, a crowned skull on each shoulder, and a simple black crown on each ankle, wrist, and just beneath the center of his collar bone. Peircings: Gauged (tunnels) earlobes, size; 1/8th inch, made of black rubber.
Occupation: Struggling writer, bumbling through life, usually thwarted by his own dumb luck and ocassional spells of "stupid".
Personality: Jon King is an idiot. That bears clarifying before delving any deeper into the man. It also deserves some clarification; he isn't simple-minded. He never had to wear a helmet and knows exactly what two plus two is and doesn't have any trouble matching shapes. He however, doesn't really have any common sense to speak of, as though he forgets the most basic of things, like looking when you cross the street and not suggesting oral sex to a woman in the bar who's sitting right next to her eight foot tall, four hundred pound barbarian berserker boyfriend. He's the sort of man who will do something when told not to, just to spite you. His sense of humor is horribly skewed, prompting absurd and obscene jokes, spouting out the strangest things at the wrong time, and lying with a perfectly straight face and even tone just because its hilarious. Since no one on Althanas knows about Earth, he loves making outlandish claims, like dueling Abraham Lincoln in a Samurai style fight. For some, he's infuriating, for others, he's hilarious, and for others, he's a pathologically lying nutjob.
While his time on Althanas helped mature him by a tiny fraction, it didn't much, as he developed a thirst to be viewed as a hero. However, each time he tried some noble deed, someone more impressive took credit. Eventually he gave up and tried to be normal in Radasanth. He has little in the ways of morals, and is a firm advocate of drinking, womanizing, and soaking himself in drugs. He isn't too afraid to steal the shoes off one's feet either, provided its off a "bad guy". Jon has a deep rooted hate for child abusers, and men that take advantage of women, thanks largely in part to his stepfather. He takes such issues serious, and is one of the only times his moronic humor isn't used.
Appearance: Jon is tall, unduly tall, taller than most of the other people his age. It's something to gripe about though, than be proud about; with his clumsiness, he's constantly banging his head into things. He's given up trying to keep himself trimmed; his black hair is usually a mess, though kept short, displaying slight waves that would become curls in a longer hairstyle, and he is rarely cleanshaven, though never supporting a thick beard. And never a bloatee. He's also stopped bothering to keep trim in another sense; in the five years of being a jobless civilian in a country at war, hasn't bothered with even a meager push up, and sports a small bit of a paunch that isn't so evident - as long as he keeps his belt a little loose. On the left side of his face, run a pair of short scars, close to his eye.
Most of his clothes from Earth have held up rather well. He still has his black sneakers and his black hoodie, though its gotten a little threadbare. He also owns a dark colored leather jacket, with a patch at the back of his waist that reads "Revenge" in capital letters (rarely worn unless its cold), and a pair of black utility boots. Lately, he's taken to white collared shirts when he feels like it, untucked from his jeans and kept free and loose. It gives him a bit of a mature look, something he desperately needs. On job interviews, its complimented with badly tied, loud or too short ties.
Weapons:
Fighting Staff, "The Guide"* - A sturdy, six foot long fighting staff made of the grayish colored wood, trakym. The staff is nice and light, and well balanced, one of the ones Garen used as a boy. It has a pair of steel caps at either end, partially for decoration, but also to add punch to strikes.
Combat Staff, "Punishment"* - A five foot staff made of dehlar, Jon took this from a robber while defending an inn from marauders. Particularly heavy, the staff is studded minutely at either end, to increase damage from blows. Aside from this, Jon wouldn't have had any reason to name it as he did, but upon twisting the staff, a foot long, wickedly serrated blade extends from both ends of the staff, able to deal painful, deep tissue wounds. The shaft is painted a glossy black, and is testured to increase grip. It is, unfortunately, quite heavy and difficult to wield against more experienced opponents.
Knives, "The Peacekeepers (Or Peacemakers, Jon calls them both)" - A set of four iron knives with rubberized, flattened hilts to increase grip. These are hidden in various places about his person, usually not in the same place as the day before. Usually used for throwing, or finishing off an enemy, as he has little skill in the use of them.
((*Can only carry one staff at once, and usually chooses The Guide, considering Punishment's weight.))
Skills:
Non-Combat
Lechery - Love him or hate him for it, at the moment, Jon is best known for his lechery. As a famous comedian once said, "Every pair of breasts look the same, but for a guy, you still want to see them," and for Jon, that rings true. Before hand, he'd get slapped a lot, but the girls here seem to react in a different way to his natural boyish perversion. Instead of a hand across the face, he gets giggles or the like, and at the most, feigned and ridiculous threats that won't be carried out. Maybe it's something about the simple way he sees life...
Literacy - Jon can read and write Common, Raiaeran, and dwarven. The only reason it bears mentioning, is that in lieu of any other handy skills to offer employers, he has become something of a writer. He's not accomplished, not yet, but he spends a lot of time writing short stories and trying to get them published. Every rejection letter heralds a bottle of wine, and his liver sincerely wishes he'd stop being so shitty at writing.
Combat
Staff Fighting
After being injured by a pack of marauding goblins in the Peaceful Promenade, Jon and another were taken into the care of of an old man named Garen. After a show of his skills, Jon pleaded Garen to take him under his wing. While Jon shows skill in the use of a staff, he doesn't have the balance or finesse to truly be a threat, he knows enough of the basics to be able to attack and defend himself. With time and experiance, comes confidence in one's abilities. Jon has finally gained some level of balance and grace, and weilding Punishment, a heavy metal staff, has increased his strength, to the point were blows could break bones if struck right. His movements actually have some flow to them, and his skill currently stands at an advanced ability. His skill with staves could easily be translated into polearms as well at this time, most specifically the spear.
Knife Throwing
It took quite some time, but Jon eventually learned the right way to grip the knife, when to snap his wrist, and how to aim. In the early days, much of his time was spent cursing relentlessly at his targets and physically abusing them with his staff. Presently, his moderately adept at throwing, though at greater distances, his accuracy suffers.
Meager Acrobatics
Over the years, Jon has picked up on an unprecedented (in his clutzy family, that is) ability to bend and flex certain parts of his body as though he were double jointed. He only learned to do this (Of which he grudgingly admits), because the first year of his time on Althanas he was lousy with his staff and had to dodge quite a few possibly fatal blows. Jon is quick enough to dodge most blows from moderate to heavy weaponry, though he has trouble against lighter things, and he can jump up to a level equal to his height. Unfortunately, clutziness constantly plagues him and he continues to trip over his own feet at times.
Knife Fighting
In conjuction with throwing them, Jon has been practicing with pairs of knives for close quarters combat. While his movements are swift and sure, his inherent gracelessness usually sees him with bandages peppering his hands and arms at the end of the day. Currently, he has an experienced ability with the knives.
Abilities
The Spark
Rather vague, but simply put, Jon has the ability to use magic - if trained. This was noted several years ago when he traveled to Istien Universe and learned a song spell to cast energy bolts - then promptly forgot it. Nevertheless, it set him apart from the Average Joe. Jon has absolutely no knowledge of this distinction, and merely assumed anybody could sing and blast people with lightning. Its theorized that his death on Earth and rebirth on Althanas was actually nothing more than an instance of dumb luck the universe had a crack it did not repair in time, and he slipped through it, infusing him with the spark. With instruction, Jon could become a competent, if sloppy wizard, but until then, he's not going to be teleporting and throwing around fireballs.
History:
Jon Gosnell was born at eight minutes past one o' clock, PM, on March 18, 1987, in Greenville, Pennsylvania to a very young mother and no father. It was a rather plain day, no monumental storms or brilliant sunshine, which may have contracted from the very joy of his birth. Taken in the loving yet soon to be mostly absent arms of his mother, Jon was taken to the small village of Atlantic, mostly populated by Menonites, where his life was to begin.
Still young, his mother took off to party with her firends, which left his grandparents to raise him. They instilled in his propper manners, ettiquette, never to punch a girl, respect your elders, good moral fibers for a young man. It's still not exactly known where he put all these lessons.
During Kindergarten, struck another child over the head with a rolling pin, not knowing any better. He may have gotten in trouble for it later, but at the moment, he thought it was the funniest thing ever. This, and the steady diet of junk food and horror movies his mother fed him attributed to the strange young man he is today.
Life was quiet and sleepy and boring in Atlantic, until at eleven, his mother met a 'hero', a loud mouthed, bad mannered idiot named Dave Ash, and promptly moved the two in. Over the next eight years, depression and hate for Dave set in turning him into what he is at eighteen; a young man already with a taste for alcohol and just beginning to smoke. A week after his last birthday, he gave his 'stepfather' a fond f*ck you and moved back in with his grandparents.
And one night on the streets of Greenville, his life on Earth was done.
Stumbling across the street, hazy
The peircing shriek of horn and tire
A few tons of metal, crushing bone, thrown to the ground in a mess of blood
Lulled to sleep by the ambulance sirens
The paramedics milling around like curious ghosts
And goddamn was the
asphalt hot
or
what?!
Sleep and something infinitely more final took him, washing away the pain that lay in legs he couldn't move any longer. The slumber was long, he was sure of that, but he wasn't positive of the true flow of time. How many hours? Days? Weeks? Years?!
And then suddenly his eyes opened, and he realized that he felt fine. He climbed to his feet, rubbing at his grainy eyes, and yawned. He was in a forest somewhere, and he had been sleeping next to a crystal clear pond.
Was this...heaven?
No, or else right now, he'd be in the process of a massage by a bunch of beautiful, naked women.
With big boobs.
Obviously.
So groggy from his very strange sleep, and even stranger, not asking any questions as to why he was still alive, Jon Gosnell wandered out of Concordia Forest, to Radasanth.
Jon wandered Althanas for the most of his time, usually drunk, trying to start parties. Unfortunately, nobody could understand what the hell he was talking about. His luck changed at The Peaceful Promenade, where he started up one hell of a party, that was unfortunately interrupted by a pack of goblins. Completely drunk out of his gourd, Jon fought with them for interrupting his performance, but was soon injured and rendered unconscious.
When he awoke, he found himself in the house of an old man and his two daughters, along with another who had been injured in the attack. During their six month stay, Jon learned how to use a staff under the tutelage of Garen, and July, the other wounded man, did what he could to investigate the strangely behaving goblins. At Garen's urging, the two visited a nearby mystic, who informed him that Unpak, The King of Goblins, had been possessed by a demon, and was directing his minions to kill. The two quickly left to go to Alerar, to try and stop the danger.
However, they made a stop in Corone, where Jon took a ferry to Raiaera to learn a bit of magic at Istien University. When he returned, Jon stepped into a suspiciously different Corone, July no where in sight.
After a few months waiting in Radasanth, Jon finally accepted that July wasn't coming back. Knowing that he couldn't kill any kind of king, even of goblin origin, Jon set out into Althanas, away from Corone, noticing the growing numbers of strange attacks from the goblins, desperately trying to increase his ability with his staff. Of course, this lead to a number of injuries, mainly inflicted upon himeslf, as he bumbled into every type of "rescue" that he could, attempting to save kidnap victims or even those suddenly assailed by bandits on the forest highways. Constantly however, he'd be thwarted by some knight in shining armor, or some anti-hero in a black overcoat carrying a katana. Jon affectionately began to refer to these people as "complete and utter douchebags" despite the fact that without their interference, he'd have gotten everyone killed.
In time though, his abilities became a bit more polished. It didn't take him long after this to realize the horrific flaws in his staff fighting, and he began to correct them. For a period of six months, Jon vanished into the mountains, intent on focusing on his balance and precision. He succeeded, to some extent, and was also attacked by a bear that he poked with a knife while it was content in slumber. He soon had a chance to show what he'd learned in a pub in Underwood, which fell under the assault of marauders, intent on robbing everyone in the establishment of everything they owned. He quickly acted, and with the aid of a young fifteen year old boy, setting out into the world with his father's old sword, dispatched the robbers and in turn, robbed them when eyes were reverted, taking a metal staff for his own that he named Punishment.
While it's been a tough two years on Jon, it's been quite productive as well, in his eyes. Curiously, the goblin attacks have all but died down, but they say it's always calm before the storm...
Jon eventually got sick of trying and giving a shit about the whole goblin threat. He never saw July again in the five years that passed as he settled down into Radasanth. He lived in a drafty "apartment" - really more like a hut, with a landlord who was waxy pale and horribly skinny everywhere but his stomach. He preferred to live in poverty for a while, drinking and stealing weed plants he'd find in the countryside to get by, but now he's grown sick of it, and has decided to try job searching again - before he gets drafted by the god damn Empire.
Aliases/Nicknames: Jonny, The King of Fools
Age: 24
Height: 6'4"
Weight: 264 lbs
Hair Colour: Jon dyed it black just before his death on earth, and when he was reincarnated here, it strangely became his natural hair color.
Eye Colour: Hazel (Green with brown spots)
Distinguishing Marks: Tattoos - A pattern of flames and nautical stars covering his forearms, twin lightning bolts on both elbows, a crowned skull on each shoulder, and a simple black crown on each ankle, wrist, and just beneath the center of his collar bone. Peircings: Gauged (tunnels) earlobes, size; 1/8th inch, made of black rubber.
Occupation: Struggling writer, bumbling through life, usually thwarted by his own dumb luck and ocassional spells of "stupid".
Personality: Jon King is an idiot. That bears clarifying before delving any deeper into the man. It also deserves some clarification; he isn't simple-minded. He never had to wear a helmet and knows exactly what two plus two is and doesn't have any trouble matching shapes. He however, doesn't really have any common sense to speak of, as though he forgets the most basic of things, like looking when you cross the street and not suggesting oral sex to a woman in the bar who's sitting right next to her eight foot tall, four hundred pound barbarian berserker boyfriend. He's the sort of man who will do something when told not to, just to spite you. His sense of humor is horribly skewed, prompting absurd and obscene jokes, spouting out the strangest things at the wrong time, and lying with a perfectly straight face and even tone just because its hilarious. Since no one on Althanas knows about Earth, he loves making outlandish claims, like dueling Abraham Lincoln in a Samurai style fight. For some, he's infuriating, for others, he's hilarious, and for others, he's a pathologically lying nutjob.
While his time on Althanas helped mature him by a tiny fraction, it didn't much, as he developed a thirst to be viewed as a hero. However, each time he tried some noble deed, someone more impressive took credit. Eventually he gave up and tried to be normal in Radasanth. He has little in the ways of morals, and is a firm advocate of drinking, womanizing, and soaking himself in drugs. He isn't too afraid to steal the shoes off one's feet either, provided its off a "bad guy". Jon has a deep rooted hate for child abusers, and men that take advantage of women, thanks largely in part to his stepfather. He takes such issues serious, and is one of the only times his moronic humor isn't used.
Appearance: Jon is tall, unduly tall, taller than most of the other people his age. It's something to gripe about though, than be proud about; with his clumsiness, he's constantly banging his head into things. He's given up trying to keep himself trimmed; his black hair is usually a mess, though kept short, displaying slight waves that would become curls in a longer hairstyle, and he is rarely cleanshaven, though never supporting a thick beard. And never a bloatee. He's also stopped bothering to keep trim in another sense; in the five years of being a jobless civilian in a country at war, hasn't bothered with even a meager push up, and sports a small bit of a paunch that isn't so evident - as long as he keeps his belt a little loose. On the left side of his face, run a pair of short scars, close to his eye.
Most of his clothes from Earth have held up rather well. He still has his black sneakers and his black hoodie, though its gotten a little threadbare. He also owns a dark colored leather jacket, with a patch at the back of his waist that reads "Revenge" in capital letters (rarely worn unless its cold), and a pair of black utility boots. Lately, he's taken to white collared shirts when he feels like it, untucked from his jeans and kept free and loose. It gives him a bit of a mature look, something he desperately needs. On job interviews, its complimented with badly tied, loud or too short ties.
Weapons:
Fighting Staff, "The Guide"* - A sturdy, six foot long fighting staff made of the grayish colored wood, trakym. The staff is nice and light, and well balanced, one of the ones Garen used as a boy. It has a pair of steel caps at either end, partially for decoration, but also to add punch to strikes.
Combat Staff, "Punishment"* - A five foot staff made of dehlar, Jon took this from a robber while defending an inn from marauders. Particularly heavy, the staff is studded minutely at either end, to increase damage from blows. Aside from this, Jon wouldn't have had any reason to name it as he did, but upon twisting the staff, a foot long, wickedly serrated blade extends from both ends of the staff, able to deal painful, deep tissue wounds. The shaft is painted a glossy black, and is testured to increase grip. It is, unfortunately, quite heavy and difficult to wield against more experienced opponents.
Knives, "The Peacekeepers (Or Peacemakers, Jon calls them both)" - A set of four iron knives with rubberized, flattened hilts to increase grip. These are hidden in various places about his person, usually not in the same place as the day before. Usually used for throwing, or finishing off an enemy, as he has little skill in the use of them.
((*Can only carry one staff at once, and usually chooses The Guide, considering Punishment's weight.))
Skills:
Non-Combat
Lechery - Love him or hate him for it, at the moment, Jon is best known for his lechery. As a famous comedian once said, "Every pair of breasts look the same, but for a guy, you still want to see them," and for Jon, that rings true. Before hand, he'd get slapped a lot, but the girls here seem to react in a different way to his natural boyish perversion. Instead of a hand across the face, he gets giggles or the like, and at the most, feigned and ridiculous threats that won't be carried out. Maybe it's something about the simple way he sees life...
Literacy - Jon can read and write Common, Raiaeran, and dwarven. The only reason it bears mentioning, is that in lieu of any other handy skills to offer employers, he has become something of a writer. He's not accomplished, not yet, but he spends a lot of time writing short stories and trying to get them published. Every rejection letter heralds a bottle of wine, and his liver sincerely wishes he'd stop being so shitty at writing.
Combat
Staff Fighting
After being injured by a pack of marauding goblins in the Peaceful Promenade, Jon and another were taken into the care of of an old man named Garen. After a show of his skills, Jon pleaded Garen to take him under his wing. While Jon shows skill in the use of a staff, he doesn't have the balance or finesse to truly be a threat, he knows enough of the basics to be able to attack and defend himself. With time and experiance, comes confidence in one's abilities. Jon has finally gained some level of balance and grace, and weilding Punishment, a heavy metal staff, has increased his strength, to the point were blows could break bones if struck right. His movements actually have some flow to them, and his skill currently stands at an advanced ability. His skill with staves could easily be translated into polearms as well at this time, most specifically the spear.
Knife Throwing
It took quite some time, but Jon eventually learned the right way to grip the knife, when to snap his wrist, and how to aim. In the early days, much of his time was spent cursing relentlessly at his targets and physically abusing them with his staff. Presently, his moderately adept at throwing, though at greater distances, his accuracy suffers.
Meager Acrobatics
Over the years, Jon has picked up on an unprecedented (in his clutzy family, that is) ability to bend and flex certain parts of his body as though he were double jointed. He only learned to do this (Of which he grudgingly admits), because the first year of his time on Althanas he was lousy with his staff and had to dodge quite a few possibly fatal blows. Jon is quick enough to dodge most blows from moderate to heavy weaponry, though he has trouble against lighter things, and he can jump up to a level equal to his height. Unfortunately, clutziness constantly plagues him and he continues to trip over his own feet at times.
Knife Fighting
In conjuction with throwing them, Jon has been practicing with pairs of knives for close quarters combat. While his movements are swift and sure, his inherent gracelessness usually sees him with bandages peppering his hands and arms at the end of the day. Currently, he has an experienced ability with the knives.
Abilities
The Spark
Rather vague, but simply put, Jon has the ability to use magic - if trained. This was noted several years ago when he traveled to Istien Universe and learned a song spell to cast energy bolts - then promptly forgot it. Nevertheless, it set him apart from the Average Joe. Jon has absolutely no knowledge of this distinction, and merely assumed anybody could sing and blast people with lightning. Its theorized that his death on Earth and rebirth on Althanas was actually nothing more than an instance of dumb luck the universe had a crack it did not repair in time, and he slipped through it, infusing him with the spark. With instruction, Jon could become a competent, if sloppy wizard, but until then, he's not going to be teleporting and throwing around fireballs.
History:
Jon Gosnell was born at eight minutes past one o' clock, PM, on March 18, 1987, in Greenville, Pennsylvania to a very young mother and no father. It was a rather plain day, no monumental storms or brilliant sunshine, which may have contracted from the very joy of his birth. Taken in the loving yet soon to be mostly absent arms of his mother, Jon was taken to the small village of Atlantic, mostly populated by Menonites, where his life was to begin.
Still young, his mother took off to party with her firends, which left his grandparents to raise him. They instilled in his propper manners, ettiquette, never to punch a girl, respect your elders, good moral fibers for a young man. It's still not exactly known where he put all these lessons.
During Kindergarten, struck another child over the head with a rolling pin, not knowing any better. He may have gotten in trouble for it later, but at the moment, he thought it was the funniest thing ever. This, and the steady diet of junk food and horror movies his mother fed him attributed to the strange young man he is today.
Life was quiet and sleepy and boring in Atlantic, until at eleven, his mother met a 'hero', a loud mouthed, bad mannered idiot named Dave Ash, and promptly moved the two in. Over the next eight years, depression and hate for Dave set in turning him into what he is at eighteen; a young man already with a taste for alcohol and just beginning to smoke. A week after his last birthday, he gave his 'stepfather' a fond f*ck you and moved back in with his grandparents.
And one night on the streets of Greenville, his life on Earth was done.
Stumbling across the street, hazy
The peircing shriek of horn and tire
A few tons of metal, crushing bone, thrown to the ground in a mess of blood
Lulled to sleep by the ambulance sirens
The paramedics milling around like curious ghosts
And goddamn was the
asphalt hot
or
what?!
Sleep and something infinitely more final took him, washing away the pain that lay in legs he couldn't move any longer. The slumber was long, he was sure of that, but he wasn't positive of the true flow of time. How many hours? Days? Weeks? Years?!
And then suddenly his eyes opened, and he realized that he felt fine. He climbed to his feet, rubbing at his grainy eyes, and yawned. He was in a forest somewhere, and he had been sleeping next to a crystal clear pond.
Was this...heaven?
No, or else right now, he'd be in the process of a massage by a bunch of beautiful, naked women.
With big boobs.
Obviously.
So groggy from his very strange sleep, and even stranger, not asking any questions as to why he was still alive, Jon Gosnell wandered out of Concordia Forest, to Radasanth.
Jon wandered Althanas for the most of his time, usually drunk, trying to start parties. Unfortunately, nobody could understand what the hell he was talking about. His luck changed at The Peaceful Promenade, where he started up one hell of a party, that was unfortunately interrupted by a pack of goblins. Completely drunk out of his gourd, Jon fought with them for interrupting his performance, but was soon injured and rendered unconscious.
When he awoke, he found himself in the house of an old man and his two daughters, along with another who had been injured in the attack. During their six month stay, Jon learned how to use a staff under the tutelage of Garen, and July, the other wounded man, did what he could to investigate the strangely behaving goblins. At Garen's urging, the two visited a nearby mystic, who informed him that Unpak, The King of Goblins, had been possessed by a demon, and was directing his minions to kill. The two quickly left to go to Alerar, to try and stop the danger.
However, they made a stop in Corone, where Jon took a ferry to Raiaera to learn a bit of magic at Istien University. When he returned, Jon stepped into a suspiciously different Corone, July no where in sight.
After a few months waiting in Radasanth, Jon finally accepted that July wasn't coming back. Knowing that he couldn't kill any kind of king, even of goblin origin, Jon set out into Althanas, away from Corone, noticing the growing numbers of strange attacks from the goblins, desperately trying to increase his ability with his staff. Of course, this lead to a number of injuries, mainly inflicted upon himeslf, as he bumbled into every type of "rescue" that he could, attempting to save kidnap victims or even those suddenly assailed by bandits on the forest highways. Constantly however, he'd be thwarted by some knight in shining armor, or some anti-hero in a black overcoat carrying a katana. Jon affectionately began to refer to these people as "complete and utter douchebags" despite the fact that without their interference, he'd have gotten everyone killed.
In time though, his abilities became a bit more polished. It didn't take him long after this to realize the horrific flaws in his staff fighting, and he began to correct them. For a period of six months, Jon vanished into the mountains, intent on focusing on his balance and precision. He succeeded, to some extent, and was also attacked by a bear that he poked with a knife while it was content in slumber. He soon had a chance to show what he'd learned in a pub in Underwood, which fell under the assault of marauders, intent on robbing everyone in the establishment of everything they owned. He quickly acted, and with the aid of a young fifteen year old boy, setting out into the world with his father's old sword, dispatched the robbers and in turn, robbed them when eyes were reverted, taking a metal staff for his own that he named Punishment.
While it's been a tough two years on Jon, it's been quite productive as well, in his eyes. Curiously, the goblin attacks have all but died down, but they say it's always calm before the storm...
Jon eventually got sick of trying and giving a shit about the whole goblin threat. He never saw July again in the five years that passed as he settled down into Radasanth. He lived in a drafty "apartment" - really more like a hut, with a landlord who was waxy pale and horribly skinny everywhere but his stomach. He preferred to live in poverty for a while, drinking and stealing weed plants he'd find in the countryside to get by, but now he's grown sick of it, and has decided to try job searching again - before he gets drafted by the god damn Empire.