Porter le Deuil
10-06-07, 12:35 PM
Name: Isaiah the Mourner
Age: 24
Race: Human
Gender: Male
Height: 6'
Weight: 187 lbs
Hair Color: Satin Blonde
Eye Color: Sea Green
History:
" Some people say that it is better to have loved, then lost, than never to have loved at all. I say this is untrue. I say, those who believe that the pain of isolation cuts deeper than the pain of loss, have never truly felt the pain of loss. If you are like me, having lost all that was dear to you, this tale, my tale, is for you. "
" I remember it all too well. The sweet scent of jasmine, clinging to her ivory skin, crept up my nose and a familiar tingle shot down my spine and into my fingertips. Her hair, dark as midnight, soft as silk, lay softly across my thigh. Her lips parted only slightly as she smiled. Her amber eyes were glazed with tears, but never were they more beautiful. Her breathing was steady, and I listened and my heart grew heavy as the sound of her breathing grew weaker.
She said not a word; No dying confession, no final declaration of love. Her final farewell was nothing more than a smile. But in that smile, and in her eyes, I saw, and watched helplessly as my whole world slipped away, forever.
I had been face to face with my own death more times than I could account for. I had faced monsters and warlords, demons and the undead. I had fought many battles and not once had I trembled. But on this day, the final day of my beloved, my hand would not rest.
I held her close and buried my face in her hair as I wept. The warm, salty taste of my own tears was unfamiliar to me. Not since I was a child had I ever cried. Not in all my twenty-four years of life have I ever cried that hard again.
There was no grand ceremony to mourn the death of my beloved. She had taken her own life; an act as distasteful as treason in my homeland. Strangely enough, I cannot recall the name of my home, nor can I recall my true name. All seemed meaningless after the death of my beloved.
Only I and the grave digger attended her funeral. I spoke only three words that day. Only three, as I kissed her tombstone. It read
' Gloria Elizabeth Dunn. Daughter and wife. Taken by her own hand. May she find the peace in death, she could not have in life. '
Too few words.
I had done all I could to bring happiness to her. She was my everything. Her mother said that she had been cursed by the gods. Cursed with a broken heart at birth. A heart that could never be mended. Sadness was all she knew. Never could she escape it, or so they thought. It seemed she had found a way.
I gathered my belongings and left that country forever. I purchased a ticket to sail across the sea, to the western continent. The ship was caught in a storm and sank into the sea. I awoke to find myself in a land called Fallien. To my dismay, I was not dead. Perhaps it is not yet my destiny to die. "
Appearance:
Isaiah has the typical build of a knight, if a bit on the slim side. He is tall with a firm, toned body, though not as thick as your typical knight in shining armor. His hair is just past shoulder length. He usually wears it parted down the middle with the back in a pony tail while letting the sides and his bangs hang free. He also has a few colorful beads and trinkets braided into his hair. His eyes are lined with a dark black eye liner. His face is usually kept clean shaven, if just a bit scruffy.
Personality:
Isaiah is very quiet. He keeps to himself mostly, but is very polite and respectful. He is cultured and well-mannered, never the type to rest his elbows on the table. He doesn't hide his emotions well, almost always having a sad look on his face.
Clothes/Armor:
Head - Isaiah wears a pure white linen hood that hides most of his face in shadow.
Upper Body - Isaiah wears a pure white linen hooded shirt. On his left shoulder is a brass shoulder pad, decorated with many Fallien carvings. Across his chest is a leather strap which secures his large sword to his back. Around his waist he wears a crimson sash.
Arms/Hands - On either side, Isaiah wears matching brass bracers decorated in the same fashion as his shoulder pad. He wears a pair of black leather gloves with a small, brass shield-like cover on the back of each.
Legs/Feet - Isaiah wears a pair of loose-fitting, pure white pants which are tucked into his black leather Fallien-style boots. He also wears a pair of brass shin guards which match his bracers and shoulderpad.
Weapon:
Isaiah wields a five foot long, steel long sword. The blade is fifty-one inches and the hilt is nine inches.
Skills/Abilities:
Typical Long Sword Use ((Moderate))- In his home land Isaiah was a knight, a trained soldier. But that was a time ago, and his skills have dwindled, though he can still effectively wield his blade with moderate skill.
Bandesh ((Beginer)) - Isaiah has not been in Fallien very long, but has shown interested in the Fallien submission-style fighting known as Bandesh. So far however he has had no formal training and only mimics those he sees practicing.
Age: 24
Race: Human
Gender: Male
Height: 6'
Weight: 187 lbs
Hair Color: Satin Blonde
Eye Color: Sea Green
History:
" Some people say that it is better to have loved, then lost, than never to have loved at all. I say this is untrue. I say, those who believe that the pain of isolation cuts deeper than the pain of loss, have never truly felt the pain of loss. If you are like me, having lost all that was dear to you, this tale, my tale, is for you. "
" I remember it all too well. The sweet scent of jasmine, clinging to her ivory skin, crept up my nose and a familiar tingle shot down my spine and into my fingertips. Her hair, dark as midnight, soft as silk, lay softly across my thigh. Her lips parted only slightly as she smiled. Her amber eyes were glazed with tears, but never were they more beautiful. Her breathing was steady, and I listened and my heart grew heavy as the sound of her breathing grew weaker.
She said not a word; No dying confession, no final declaration of love. Her final farewell was nothing more than a smile. But in that smile, and in her eyes, I saw, and watched helplessly as my whole world slipped away, forever.
I had been face to face with my own death more times than I could account for. I had faced monsters and warlords, demons and the undead. I had fought many battles and not once had I trembled. But on this day, the final day of my beloved, my hand would not rest.
I held her close and buried my face in her hair as I wept. The warm, salty taste of my own tears was unfamiliar to me. Not since I was a child had I ever cried. Not in all my twenty-four years of life have I ever cried that hard again.
There was no grand ceremony to mourn the death of my beloved. She had taken her own life; an act as distasteful as treason in my homeland. Strangely enough, I cannot recall the name of my home, nor can I recall my true name. All seemed meaningless after the death of my beloved.
Only I and the grave digger attended her funeral. I spoke only three words that day. Only three, as I kissed her tombstone. It read
' Gloria Elizabeth Dunn. Daughter and wife. Taken by her own hand. May she find the peace in death, she could not have in life. '
Too few words.
I had done all I could to bring happiness to her. She was my everything. Her mother said that she had been cursed by the gods. Cursed with a broken heart at birth. A heart that could never be mended. Sadness was all she knew. Never could she escape it, or so they thought. It seemed she had found a way.
I gathered my belongings and left that country forever. I purchased a ticket to sail across the sea, to the western continent. The ship was caught in a storm and sank into the sea. I awoke to find myself in a land called Fallien. To my dismay, I was not dead. Perhaps it is not yet my destiny to die. "
Appearance:
Isaiah has the typical build of a knight, if a bit on the slim side. He is tall with a firm, toned body, though not as thick as your typical knight in shining armor. His hair is just past shoulder length. He usually wears it parted down the middle with the back in a pony tail while letting the sides and his bangs hang free. He also has a few colorful beads and trinkets braided into his hair. His eyes are lined with a dark black eye liner. His face is usually kept clean shaven, if just a bit scruffy.
Personality:
Isaiah is very quiet. He keeps to himself mostly, but is very polite and respectful. He is cultured and well-mannered, never the type to rest his elbows on the table. He doesn't hide his emotions well, almost always having a sad look on his face.
Clothes/Armor:
Head - Isaiah wears a pure white linen hood that hides most of his face in shadow.
Upper Body - Isaiah wears a pure white linen hooded shirt. On his left shoulder is a brass shoulder pad, decorated with many Fallien carvings. Across his chest is a leather strap which secures his large sword to his back. Around his waist he wears a crimson sash.
Arms/Hands - On either side, Isaiah wears matching brass bracers decorated in the same fashion as his shoulder pad. He wears a pair of black leather gloves with a small, brass shield-like cover on the back of each.
Legs/Feet - Isaiah wears a pair of loose-fitting, pure white pants which are tucked into his black leather Fallien-style boots. He also wears a pair of brass shin guards which match his bracers and shoulderpad.
Weapon:
Isaiah wields a five foot long, steel long sword. The blade is fifty-one inches and the hilt is nine inches.
Skills/Abilities:
Typical Long Sword Use ((Moderate))- In his home land Isaiah was a knight, a trained soldier. But that was a time ago, and his skills have dwindled, though he can still effectively wield his blade with moderate skill.
Bandesh ((Beginer)) - Isaiah has not been in Fallien very long, but has shown interested in the Fallien submission-style fighting known as Bandesh. So far however he has had no formal training and only mimics those he sees practicing.