Vortimo
02-20-07, 08:16 PM
Kris Vortimo
History: It was a dark and stormy night when Abigail and Carl Vortimo came to Dheathain. They would soon find out that rain was nothing new to the region. They picked their way through the rain forest, Carl’s old sword, fueled by his protective paranoia, swiped and swatted away any creature that got in their path. As they moved, Cark still tried to convince himself that it was all a bad dream, but alas, the incredible events of the last year had been all too real.
They had started out innocently enough. Carl and Abigail had grown up together in Salvar, in a small village outside of Knife’s Edge. Both had come from a mining family, and when a tunnel collapse had left them without fathers in their childhood, the friendship was cemented as they became each other’s rocks through the storm of their grief. Abigail’s mother, a gorgeous woman who’d married and given birth young, married again soon to another miner. In the blink of the eye, the family had been moved to Alerar, where Abi’s stepfather intended to learn from the dwarves. He would use the knowledge, he said, to educate miners around the world on tunnel safety. Plead as she might, Abi could not convince him to change his mind, or to let her stay behind with Carl’s family. The young friends found themselves torn apart.
Abigail’s family ended up high in the Alerian mountains in a small town by the name of Olath Niar. After two years, she’d given up hope of ever seeing her friend again. To her surprise, he showed up out of the blue one day. He’d taken an apprenticeship with a blacksmith after she’d left, and had now come to Olath Niar to fulfill his training with the metal-smiths of the dwarven masters. The two again rekindled their friendship, and as humans in their late teens, a budding romance. They soon found themselves married, with Carl working hard as a smithy, and Abigail as a housewife. They tried many years for a child, but only met failure.
One day, only a year before their descent through the tropical labyrinth of Dheathain, a newcomer entered the gates of Olath Niar. Rah Danonen was a Drow man, a former mine foreman from the Eastern edge of the country. His coming was unwelcome among the dwarves, but it was at least a peaceful racism. Being the only inhabitants of the high-altitude village that stood above five feet tall, the Vortimo family embraced Rah as their own, much to the Drow’s chagrin. He reasoned with himself that humans were at least higher than dwarves, however, and allowed himself to be adopted into their childless family as a quiet, subdued friend.
Rah spent most of his time in the mines, and was soon almost completely accepted through the village, until the birth of Sherra Flameore’s child. She was a dwarven woman of great respect in the community, a foreman of the mines, even though she’d gotten pregnant and no one seemed to be able to figure out who the father was. The paternity, however, was not a question once the child had entered the world. Dark blue skin with tufts of pale hair, and a much longer body than was usually seen in the midwife’s cottage left Rah Danonen a marked man. He and Sherra fled in the night, leaving only two people as scapegoats for the dwarf’s anger. Carl and Abigail were run out of the village, their tiny attackers, with not so tiny axes, fueling their desperate flee. Without anywhere to go, Carl decided it was time for a vacation. He had thrown himself so deeply into his apprenticeship and life with Abigail that they had never had a proper honeymoon.
With little difficulty, they crossed the border into a Raiaera before the return of the Forgotten, before the scourge of the undead. It was a beautiful place, and they set off for a small bed and breakfast that had been recommended to them at the border. While Raiaera knew peace at this time, it was not without its peril. On the way to their honeymoon spot, a bridge in the path had rotted down and could not be crossed. Carl was determined not to let a few setbacks ruin the peace they felt they deserved, so they moved along the river to find a shallow place to cross. It was only when they waded into a small field of flowers, that they realized their folly. Mixed among the blooming poppies, soul flowers sat in wait. Two attacked, and when they got away, they thought they’d been successful against the dangerous flora. As they continued to the bed and breakfast, Abigail fell into fits of terrible pain.
At the bed and breakfast, a small place known as the Flower and the Flute, they met a witch doctor who had come to make an urgent house call on the inn keep’s wife, a Fae woman from the rainforests. This doctor was Draconian, and while his presence at first alarmed the Vortimo’s, he ripped the heart from a chicken and read their problems in the blood that spilled across the clay yard by the henhouse. His answers scared away the fear of him, instead instilling a new anxiety. Abigail was pregnant, and the child’s soul had been stolen from one of the cursed flowers.
But the blood did have good news for them. Deep within the swamp of Dheathain, past the Fae rainforest, where the trees started to break and let in the view of Haide’s grasslands, there was a Fae witch. She was the only one who could save the child. Fighting for time, Carl and Abigail immediately left.
They fought through the forest, and the swamp, Carl nearly falling prey to a snake longer than he was tall. The weapons he’d forced as an apprentice blacksmith helped, and they soon found the witch. She gave them five crystals, telling them that each one kept a secret. As long as the secrets were kept sealed into the beautiful little lights, the child would live.
Abigail was deemed too weak to return to Raiaera, indeed even to any of Dheathain’s civilizations, so they family stayed with the witch until one day, a girl was born. Abigail asked the witch to name her, and as she sprinkled strange herbs over the babe, she called out her name.
Kryushan Vox-Deaome Vortimo.
They family left, intending to move back to Alerar, where Carl’s smithing skills could find him an easy job. They ended up, however, in Suthainn. Entering the town, they were immediately attacked by a Draconian. His peers subdued him easily, and apologized for his behavior. He was possessed, they explained, by an unknown demon. As the family was taken past him, to the safety that could be found from him in the higher reaches of the canopies until the sedatives took effect, Kryushan reached out. Her tiny hand reached for the Draconian and she began to gabble in the way that babies are known to. The Draconian looked at her, and fell unconscious. When he awoke, no trace of the possession remained. The Vortimo family was welcomed with open arms and given a place of respect in the city.
While she grew up, Kris befriended many Draconian children, and was raised like a Draconian. The Draconian she’d healed, Ruarc, had a son of his own. He had embraced Kris as part of his family and trained her in the ways of archery with his son. The two became best friends, and when Kris turned 20, she announced that she would like to see the world. The stories of the things their parents had seen on the continent between four countries had sparked wanderlust in the girl. Ruarc’s son, Faolan, insisted on accompanying her.
With the blessings of their parents, and the knowledge that they could return at any time they wished, they set off.
Name: Kryushan Vox-Deaome Vortimo. Goes by “Kris”.
Age: 20
Race: Human
Hair Color: Brown
Eye Color: Brown
Height: 5’ 9”
Weight: 132 lbs
Personality: As far as Kris is concerned, she is Draconian. Her humanity doesn’t really cross her mind, though she doesn’t have anything against them. She is a calm person. Anger comes slowly, but it also doesn’t dissipate for a while. She’s quiet for a young woman, speaking only when she sees a real need for it. She doesn’t know how to lie, and crafty thinking isn’t her thing. Honest to a fault, both her words and her actions speak only what is truly on her mind.
Appearance: The light cream colored skin of Salvarian descent, Kris glows in direct sunlight. Her hair is what she herself describes as “honey and mud”, and is locked in tiny spiraling curls. She has expressive brown eyes, and a perpetual smile unless in the most serious of circumstances. She’s a tall girl in human standards, but slight to the Draconians she grew up with. She wears clothes she’s sewn herself. A snug brown cotton shirt, soft doeskin pants, and a pair of boots that she’ll admit she needed help with to make are what she wears, with a small pack to hold anything she might need. Her build is muscular, but the toned lines of her muscles are hidden by enough fat that her figure is curvy and smooth.
Skills:
Archery - she is an average archer, hitting a stationary mark with a clear view fairly easily. Moving targets, and targets with difficult sighting might take a few arrows, though after the first arrow, what target’s going to sit around and wait for the next?
Tumbling - Living amongst the treetops have granted her the skill of being able to climb and jump with quickness and agility.
Equipment:
First aide kit - A simple kit with bandages, antiseptic and stitching equipment.
Bow: Made of oak with iron reinforcements disguised as beautiful and dainty lace designs, it was created by her father not long after she began her lessons with Ruarc.
Arrows: Made of the same oak as her bow, she left home with a supply of (10).
History: It was a dark and stormy night when Abigail and Carl Vortimo came to Dheathain. They would soon find out that rain was nothing new to the region. They picked their way through the rain forest, Carl’s old sword, fueled by his protective paranoia, swiped and swatted away any creature that got in their path. As they moved, Cark still tried to convince himself that it was all a bad dream, but alas, the incredible events of the last year had been all too real.
They had started out innocently enough. Carl and Abigail had grown up together in Salvar, in a small village outside of Knife’s Edge. Both had come from a mining family, and when a tunnel collapse had left them without fathers in their childhood, the friendship was cemented as they became each other’s rocks through the storm of their grief. Abigail’s mother, a gorgeous woman who’d married and given birth young, married again soon to another miner. In the blink of the eye, the family had been moved to Alerar, where Abi’s stepfather intended to learn from the dwarves. He would use the knowledge, he said, to educate miners around the world on tunnel safety. Plead as she might, Abi could not convince him to change his mind, or to let her stay behind with Carl’s family. The young friends found themselves torn apart.
Abigail’s family ended up high in the Alerian mountains in a small town by the name of Olath Niar. After two years, she’d given up hope of ever seeing her friend again. To her surprise, he showed up out of the blue one day. He’d taken an apprenticeship with a blacksmith after she’d left, and had now come to Olath Niar to fulfill his training with the metal-smiths of the dwarven masters. The two again rekindled their friendship, and as humans in their late teens, a budding romance. They soon found themselves married, with Carl working hard as a smithy, and Abigail as a housewife. They tried many years for a child, but only met failure.
One day, only a year before their descent through the tropical labyrinth of Dheathain, a newcomer entered the gates of Olath Niar. Rah Danonen was a Drow man, a former mine foreman from the Eastern edge of the country. His coming was unwelcome among the dwarves, but it was at least a peaceful racism. Being the only inhabitants of the high-altitude village that stood above five feet tall, the Vortimo family embraced Rah as their own, much to the Drow’s chagrin. He reasoned with himself that humans were at least higher than dwarves, however, and allowed himself to be adopted into their childless family as a quiet, subdued friend.
Rah spent most of his time in the mines, and was soon almost completely accepted through the village, until the birth of Sherra Flameore’s child. She was a dwarven woman of great respect in the community, a foreman of the mines, even though she’d gotten pregnant and no one seemed to be able to figure out who the father was. The paternity, however, was not a question once the child had entered the world. Dark blue skin with tufts of pale hair, and a much longer body than was usually seen in the midwife’s cottage left Rah Danonen a marked man. He and Sherra fled in the night, leaving only two people as scapegoats for the dwarf’s anger. Carl and Abigail were run out of the village, their tiny attackers, with not so tiny axes, fueling their desperate flee. Without anywhere to go, Carl decided it was time for a vacation. He had thrown himself so deeply into his apprenticeship and life with Abigail that they had never had a proper honeymoon.
With little difficulty, they crossed the border into a Raiaera before the return of the Forgotten, before the scourge of the undead. It was a beautiful place, and they set off for a small bed and breakfast that had been recommended to them at the border. While Raiaera knew peace at this time, it was not without its peril. On the way to their honeymoon spot, a bridge in the path had rotted down and could not be crossed. Carl was determined not to let a few setbacks ruin the peace they felt they deserved, so they moved along the river to find a shallow place to cross. It was only when they waded into a small field of flowers, that they realized their folly. Mixed among the blooming poppies, soul flowers sat in wait. Two attacked, and when they got away, they thought they’d been successful against the dangerous flora. As they continued to the bed and breakfast, Abigail fell into fits of terrible pain.
At the bed and breakfast, a small place known as the Flower and the Flute, they met a witch doctor who had come to make an urgent house call on the inn keep’s wife, a Fae woman from the rainforests. This doctor was Draconian, and while his presence at first alarmed the Vortimo’s, he ripped the heart from a chicken and read their problems in the blood that spilled across the clay yard by the henhouse. His answers scared away the fear of him, instead instilling a new anxiety. Abigail was pregnant, and the child’s soul had been stolen from one of the cursed flowers.
But the blood did have good news for them. Deep within the swamp of Dheathain, past the Fae rainforest, where the trees started to break and let in the view of Haide’s grasslands, there was a Fae witch. She was the only one who could save the child. Fighting for time, Carl and Abigail immediately left.
They fought through the forest, and the swamp, Carl nearly falling prey to a snake longer than he was tall. The weapons he’d forced as an apprentice blacksmith helped, and they soon found the witch. She gave them five crystals, telling them that each one kept a secret. As long as the secrets were kept sealed into the beautiful little lights, the child would live.
Abigail was deemed too weak to return to Raiaera, indeed even to any of Dheathain’s civilizations, so they family stayed with the witch until one day, a girl was born. Abigail asked the witch to name her, and as she sprinkled strange herbs over the babe, she called out her name.
Kryushan Vox-Deaome Vortimo.
They family left, intending to move back to Alerar, where Carl’s smithing skills could find him an easy job. They ended up, however, in Suthainn. Entering the town, they were immediately attacked by a Draconian. His peers subdued him easily, and apologized for his behavior. He was possessed, they explained, by an unknown demon. As the family was taken past him, to the safety that could be found from him in the higher reaches of the canopies until the sedatives took effect, Kryushan reached out. Her tiny hand reached for the Draconian and she began to gabble in the way that babies are known to. The Draconian looked at her, and fell unconscious. When he awoke, no trace of the possession remained. The Vortimo family was welcomed with open arms and given a place of respect in the city.
While she grew up, Kris befriended many Draconian children, and was raised like a Draconian. The Draconian she’d healed, Ruarc, had a son of his own. He had embraced Kris as part of his family and trained her in the ways of archery with his son. The two became best friends, and when Kris turned 20, she announced that she would like to see the world. The stories of the things their parents had seen on the continent between four countries had sparked wanderlust in the girl. Ruarc’s son, Faolan, insisted on accompanying her.
With the blessings of their parents, and the knowledge that they could return at any time they wished, they set off.
Name: Kryushan Vox-Deaome Vortimo. Goes by “Kris”.
Age: 20
Race: Human
Hair Color: Brown
Eye Color: Brown
Height: 5’ 9”
Weight: 132 lbs
Personality: As far as Kris is concerned, she is Draconian. Her humanity doesn’t really cross her mind, though she doesn’t have anything against them. She is a calm person. Anger comes slowly, but it also doesn’t dissipate for a while. She’s quiet for a young woman, speaking only when she sees a real need for it. She doesn’t know how to lie, and crafty thinking isn’t her thing. Honest to a fault, both her words and her actions speak only what is truly on her mind.
Appearance: The light cream colored skin of Salvarian descent, Kris glows in direct sunlight. Her hair is what she herself describes as “honey and mud”, and is locked in tiny spiraling curls. She has expressive brown eyes, and a perpetual smile unless in the most serious of circumstances. She’s a tall girl in human standards, but slight to the Draconians she grew up with. She wears clothes she’s sewn herself. A snug brown cotton shirt, soft doeskin pants, and a pair of boots that she’ll admit she needed help with to make are what she wears, with a small pack to hold anything she might need. Her build is muscular, but the toned lines of her muscles are hidden by enough fat that her figure is curvy and smooth.
Skills:
Archery - she is an average archer, hitting a stationary mark with a clear view fairly easily. Moving targets, and targets with difficult sighting might take a few arrows, though after the first arrow, what target’s going to sit around and wait for the next?
Tumbling - Living amongst the treetops have granted her the skill of being able to climb and jump with quickness and agility.
Equipment:
First aide kit - A simple kit with bandages, antiseptic and stitching equipment.
Bow: Made of oak with iron reinforcements disguised as beautiful and dainty lace designs, it was created by her father not long after she began her lessons with Ruarc.
Arrows: Made of the same oak as her bow, she left home with a supply of (10).