Anthropologeist
12-18-12, 07:30 PM
Anthropologeist - Level Zero
Basic Info
Name
Nathyl Auviryn
Race
Drow
Age
20
Appearance
Tall and slender, Nathyl is comprised of flat planes of lean muscle. Her back is strong, her thighs and calves thicker in proportion to her slim figure. Her hands are rough, bandages wrapped around cracked knuckles and splitting cuticles. Her face still holds some of the characteristics of youth, cheeks that are full and flush beneath the line of high cheekbone and dark eyes. She keeps her hair shorn herself, the thick locks falling just to the nape of her neck.
She wears a simple linen sleeveless tunic in a sky blue with soft buckskin trousers. Her feet are clad in black leather steel-toed boots that lace up to mid-calf. Leather bracers cover her forearms. A thick leather belt wraps around her waist, and from it hangs a loop of rope at one hip and the other a holster for her pick hammer. She carries with her a green canvas bag.
Equipment
Weapon
Pick-hammer
Iron blacksmithing hammer with one side shaped out into a mining pick.
Inherited from her father.
Armor
Leather bracers
Steel toed leather boots
Minor equipment
Small collection of picks and brushes for detailed work
Skills and Abilities
Skills
Educated on history of Raiaera and Alerar
Appraisal - Ability to reasonably determine the authenticity of an artifact
Abilities
None
History
She stood over her bag, filled with clothes and a few small books, open on the bed. Her hands clutched a small portrait framed in brass, a painting that an uncle had done of her father the blacksmith at his anvil. To tell the truth, it didn't look much like him, but her father's brother had managed to capture his smile honestly. It always made her feel better when she was nervous. With a deep breath, she tucked the small painting into her bags and added a notebook of parchment bound in soft leather, her quills, and a stoppered bottle of ink to the top before latching the bag closed. She would be bound for Ettermire in the morning, heading for the seat of knowledge and learning attached to the library there, in a small program of anthropology and archaeology.
She could hear her mother moving through the hallway just outside her door. It had been two years since her father had passed, an unrelenting sickness taking the strong man that had taught her so much. In fact, it was at his knee with his modest library of histories and legend that she learned about the world around her, from the vast expanses of Alerar over the edge of their bounds to Raiaera. She and her father had always talked and plotted about the things they would see, the mysteries they would unearth. She'd never gotten to travel with him in life, but as she reached out in her studies she began to find opportunities to go forth as they had always planned. Taking her father's portrait with her was hardly the same as having his easygoing confidence right next to her, but it would have to do.
She left the room to give her mother a hug before she needed to get on the road to the city. The home she'd always known and the town she'd lived in her entire life were just coming alive in the wee hours of the morning. As the sun was cresting over the mountains and warming the cool air, heavy with fog from the nearby lake, it was the perfect time to say goodbye.
Basic Info
Name
Nathyl Auviryn
Race
Drow
Age
20
Appearance
Tall and slender, Nathyl is comprised of flat planes of lean muscle. Her back is strong, her thighs and calves thicker in proportion to her slim figure. Her hands are rough, bandages wrapped around cracked knuckles and splitting cuticles. Her face still holds some of the characteristics of youth, cheeks that are full and flush beneath the line of high cheekbone and dark eyes. She keeps her hair shorn herself, the thick locks falling just to the nape of her neck.
She wears a simple linen sleeveless tunic in a sky blue with soft buckskin trousers. Her feet are clad in black leather steel-toed boots that lace up to mid-calf. Leather bracers cover her forearms. A thick leather belt wraps around her waist, and from it hangs a loop of rope at one hip and the other a holster for her pick hammer. She carries with her a green canvas bag.
Equipment
Weapon
Pick-hammer
Iron blacksmithing hammer with one side shaped out into a mining pick.
Inherited from her father.
Armor
Leather bracers
Steel toed leather boots
Minor equipment
Small collection of picks and brushes for detailed work
Skills and Abilities
Skills
Educated on history of Raiaera and Alerar
Appraisal - Ability to reasonably determine the authenticity of an artifact
Abilities
None
History
She stood over her bag, filled with clothes and a few small books, open on the bed. Her hands clutched a small portrait framed in brass, a painting that an uncle had done of her father the blacksmith at his anvil. To tell the truth, it didn't look much like him, but her father's brother had managed to capture his smile honestly. It always made her feel better when she was nervous. With a deep breath, she tucked the small painting into her bags and added a notebook of parchment bound in soft leather, her quills, and a stoppered bottle of ink to the top before latching the bag closed. She would be bound for Ettermire in the morning, heading for the seat of knowledge and learning attached to the library there, in a small program of anthropology and archaeology.
She could hear her mother moving through the hallway just outside her door. It had been two years since her father had passed, an unrelenting sickness taking the strong man that had taught her so much. In fact, it was at his knee with his modest library of histories and legend that she learned about the world around her, from the vast expanses of Alerar over the edge of their bounds to Raiaera. She and her father had always talked and plotted about the things they would see, the mysteries they would unearth. She'd never gotten to travel with him in life, but as she reached out in her studies she began to find opportunities to go forth as they had always planned. Taking her father's portrait with her was hardly the same as having his easygoing confidence right next to her, but it would have to do.
She left the room to give her mother a hug before she needed to get on the road to the city. The home she'd always known and the town she'd lived in her entire life were just coming alive in the wee hours of the morning. As the sun was cresting over the mountains and warming the cool air, heavy with fog from the nearby lake, it was the perfect time to say goodbye.