Andric Cailin
10-12-12, 07:01 AM
Name: Andric Cailin
Age: 54 years old
Race: Dwarf
Hair: His hair is long, and brown. Often becoming part of his beard which drops to the bottom of his neck.
Eyes: Dark green, which almost glow in the dark.
Height: 4'2"
Weight: 123 lbs
Occupation: wanderer
Skills: Smithing, Appraisal, Climbing, Riding, combat (War hammer), novice runic magik, hand to hand fighting.
Abilities:
Power attack. With training and experience, Andric Cailin has developed the ability to swing his hammer with strength and precision. A slow attack with almost double his own strength granting him the skills to smash through doors and all but the toughest defences.
Natural sprinter. Andric has the potential to pull off great speeds (2.5 times that of a normal man) over short distances, often about fifty metres and rarely above sixty. Becoming somewhat drained after he has ran the length of his abilities.
Runic magik (Novice, Lightning). Able to coy out the hidden powers of runes, ancient symbols that hold power, Andric has an ability to Combine elemental effects into his Hammer and armour on something of a whim, creating strong but temporary effects. Currently only knowing the runic symbols for lightning, a runic motion that empowers the hammer with lightning, causing a blast of numbness over the assailant once struck. Being fresh faced at this strange art, can only cast a rune once a day.
Personality: Andric is a warm fool. Which isn't too bad in a world such as this as long as you can watch your own back, front and side. Andric's trusting nature is from his upbringing in a small town. His nature however is a stubborn stone-headed dwarf, able to fixate on the smallest of tasks. And anyone who's gotten in the way of what he's been set to do, has paid a heavy price for doing so.
Garments and armour: Andric is normally seen in the armour he left home with, iron plate that covers him from top to bottom in a heavy and reassuring level protection. The iron is gilded into a swirling pattern that gives the appearance of a fluid motion over the breast plate when Andric marches forwards. On top of this he wears a heavy dark blue woollen cloak, more for practical use than anything else. which covers the travelling pack which is slung across his back.
Weapon: Andric has a single weapon. A dwarven stone war hammer of cruel design, both ends of the head ending in a heavy triangle. Balanced well, the handle wrapped in fading black leather. Heavier than steel (But, essentially, of the same properties for a blunt tool.)
Equipment: travelling gear, (kindling, Flint and steel, sleeping sack, food, etc.) smithing hammer,
History: How the hell had he wound up in this mess?
The Door was locked that was for sure. There was very little 'food' on the table. There was bread about a week old and stale. Water too yes. He was not convinced he was being cared for here. There wasn't any wine. No extra logs to go on the fire when it went out, and it was indeed going out. There wasn't even any pork. The table was bare of all things necessary, the bed, was lumpy and difficult to sleep on.
Of course he had also been taken against his will, he assumed he hadn't agreed at least. He /was/ unconscious. And waking up on a lumpy bed to bad bread and nude-ness wasn't a brilliant way to face the morning. So Andric quickly located the underclothing that often accompanied his armour and donned it gratefully. Unfortunately there was little to no sign of his actual armour or hammer. both of which being missing meant he was near defenceless. After a while of moping, and finishing the water, and swallowing a chunk of stale bread. He was surprised to hear the lock to the door open, even more surprised to see the opener of the door was a women. In rich, but old, clothing. The bright colours faded away to dull impersonations of what they once were. The sigil of a house long thought dead. In her hands she held her hammer. And she looked so fragile with such a thing in her hands.
The situation locked Andric into silence. As the stranger, in a voice that didn't quite resonate with the room, whispered to him.
"Help us."
------------------------------
The light streaming into his room was suddenly much too harsh for his eyes, as he blinked away the dreariness of the night.
As realisation crept in he looked instantly to his left, Seeing his hammer and armour still sitting there safely at the end of the room. He closed his eyes and let the morning's weariness ebb away. Only for the echo's of what he had experienced to congeal inside his head. The whole memory catapulting him awake. Had he been captured? Bewitched? Visited? He had a purpose to find out. At the least he had a direction that he could take to his life. A symbol to follow.
Hammer and iron would keep his path clear.
Age: 54 years old
Race: Dwarf
Hair: His hair is long, and brown. Often becoming part of his beard which drops to the bottom of his neck.
Eyes: Dark green, which almost glow in the dark.
Height: 4'2"
Weight: 123 lbs
Occupation: wanderer
Skills: Smithing, Appraisal, Climbing, Riding, combat (War hammer), novice runic magik, hand to hand fighting.
Abilities:
Power attack. With training and experience, Andric Cailin has developed the ability to swing his hammer with strength and precision. A slow attack with almost double his own strength granting him the skills to smash through doors and all but the toughest defences.
Natural sprinter. Andric has the potential to pull off great speeds (2.5 times that of a normal man) over short distances, often about fifty metres and rarely above sixty. Becoming somewhat drained after he has ran the length of his abilities.
Runic magik (Novice, Lightning). Able to coy out the hidden powers of runes, ancient symbols that hold power, Andric has an ability to Combine elemental effects into his Hammer and armour on something of a whim, creating strong but temporary effects. Currently only knowing the runic symbols for lightning, a runic motion that empowers the hammer with lightning, causing a blast of numbness over the assailant once struck. Being fresh faced at this strange art, can only cast a rune once a day.
Personality: Andric is a warm fool. Which isn't too bad in a world such as this as long as you can watch your own back, front and side. Andric's trusting nature is from his upbringing in a small town. His nature however is a stubborn stone-headed dwarf, able to fixate on the smallest of tasks. And anyone who's gotten in the way of what he's been set to do, has paid a heavy price for doing so.
Garments and armour: Andric is normally seen in the armour he left home with, iron plate that covers him from top to bottom in a heavy and reassuring level protection. The iron is gilded into a swirling pattern that gives the appearance of a fluid motion over the breast plate when Andric marches forwards. On top of this he wears a heavy dark blue woollen cloak, more for practical use than anything else. which covers the travelling pack which is slung across his back.
Weapon: Andric has a single weapon. A dwarven stone war hammer of cruel design, both ends of the head ending in a heavy triangle. Balanced well, the handle wrapped in fading black leather. Heavier than steel (But, essentially, of the same properties for a blunt tool.)
Equipment: travelling gear, (kindling, Flint and steel, sleeping sack, food, etc.) smithing hammer,
History: How the hell had he wound up in this mess?
The Door was locked that was for sure. There was very little 'food' on the table. There was bread about a week old and stale. Water too yes. He was not convinced he was being cared for here. There wasn't any wine. No extra logs to go on the fire when it went out, and it was indeed going out. There wasn't even any pork. The table was bare of all things necessary, the bed, was lumpy and difficult to sleep on.
Of course he had also been taken against his will, he assumed he hadn't agreed at least. He /was/ unconscious. And waking up on a lumpy bed to bad bread and nude-ness wasn't a brilliant way to face the morning. So Andric quickly located the underclothing that often accompanied his armour and donned it gratefully. Unfortunately there was little to no sign of his actual armour or hammer. both of which being missing meant he was near defenceless. After a while of moping, and finishing the water, and swallowing a chunk of stale bread. He was surprised to hear the lock to the door open, even more surprised to see the opener of the door was a women. In rich, but old, clothing. The bright colours faded away to dull impersonations of what they once were. The sigil of a house long thought dead. In her hands she held her hammer. And she looked so fragile with such a thing in her hands.
The situation locked Andric into silence. As the stranger, in a voice that didn't quite resonate with the room, whispered to him.
"Help us."
------------------------------
The light streaming into his room was suddenly much too harsh for his eyes, as he blinked away the dreariness of the night.
As realisation crept in he looked instantly to his left, Seeing his hammer and armour still sitting there safely at the end of the room. He closed his eyes and let the morning's weariness ebb away. Only for the echo's of what he had experienced to congeal inside his head. The whole memory catapulting him awake. Had he been captured? Bewitched? Visited? He had a purpose to find out. At the least he had a direction that he could take to his life. A symbol to follow.
Hammer and iron would keep his path clear.