Archaon
12-07-07, 03:28 AM
Name: Rûn (Roon)
Age: 17
Race: Human
Hair Color: Auburn (usually)
Eye Color: Green (usually)
Height: 6'-ish
Weight: 165-ish
Appearance:
With dawn he came a laughing
from deep within the trees
his smile flashed like sunlight
the prince of all he sees
His hair was spun of copper
and hung far past his jaw
his eyes were sparkling green
aglow without a flaw
He strode from ‘neath the trees
his face both fine and fair
the sun struck blonde, auburn gone
and hazel was his stare
His garb was earthen hued
his cloak an em’rald green
his leathers old and worn
his noble worth unseen
A brand of ancient steel
with grip of vine and thorn
its cross was drawn of oak
in it his dreams were born
With him it always goes
a prize from past unknown
its blade was writ with symbols
a legend yet been shown
History: Rûn was raised by his mother on the outskirts of a village deep within Concordia. He knows little, if anything, about his own origins, and has never met his father, nor has his mother ever been willing to speak of who he might be. His life was relatively peaceful, though he was never really part of the village he lived near, he deeply loves the forests, and would sometimes disappear for days within them.
He wasn’t raised solely by his mother, but also learned from a woodsman who frequently stayed in a cabin near his home. This man became a father figure to him, and he learned the ways of the forest, and how to fight with a sword.
As he grew older, he also grew more and more restless, and spent more and more time living out in the forest. One day, on his return to his mother’s house, she gave him a sword, and said it belonged to his father. She would tell him nothing else about his father, but told him that he should go out into the world, and see what there is to be seen. He left several days later, sword at his hip.
Skills: Swordsmanship - average - Having both passion and some talent, Rûn has learned the sword well. He’s no soldier, and wouldn’t be able to hold himself in a battle-line, but in straight-out fighting, he does well.
Woodscraft - average - Growing up in the forest, learning from his mother, the woodsman, and himself, Rûn can survive in woodlands, away from civilization far better than any ignorant city boy.
Magical nature - Things around Rûn change ever so slightly, warped by his presence. He can’t control this in the slightest, and doesn’t actually know about it himself, but things are very subtly, minutely shifted by his intentions, and his memories.
What this essentially boils down to is that, for example, if he’s trying to be very observant, things will shift just barely, giving him a little bit more of an edge. Perhaps the wind carries a scent or sound to him, or the shadows lighten for an instant. It isn’t known what might happen to him if too much of himself went into such a use of magic, but it likely would have some kind of side effect.
Equipment: Rûn has a deep green woolen cloak over forest toned clothes and old leather armor. He has a satchel with an extra set of clothes, a wilderness survival kit type thing, some food, etc. In addition to this he carries a multi-purpose utility knife, good for work, throwing, or the odd fight.
His most important possession is his sword. His sword of made of steel, with a bronze hilt, and a wire-wrapped grip. The blade is thirty inches long, well tapered, with a double fuller running two-thirds the length of the blade. In essence, it’s an Oakeshott Type XII (http://www.myarmoury.com/feature_spotxii.html)
Age: 17
Race: Human
Hair Color: Auburn (usually)
Eye Color: Green (usually)
Height: 6'-ish
Weight: 165-ish
Appearance:
With dawn he came a laughing
from deep within the trees
his smile flashed like sunlight
the prince of all he sees
His hair was spun of copper
and hung far past his jaw
his eyes were sparkling green
aglow without a flaw
He strode from ‘neath the trees
his face both fine and fair
the sun struck blonde, auburn gone
and hazel was his stare
His garb was earthen hued
his cloak an em’rald green
his leathers old and worn
his noble worth unseen
A brand of ancient steel
with grip of vine and thorn
its cross was drawn of oak
in it his dreams were born
With him it always goes
a prize from past unknown
its blade was writ with symbols
a legend yet been shown
History: Rûn was raised by his mother on the outskirts of a village deep within Concordia. He knows little, if anything, about his own origins, and has never met his father, nor has his mother ever been willing to speak of who he might be. His life was relatively peaceful, though he was never really part of the village he lived near, he deeply loves the forests, and would sometimes disappear for days within them.
He wasn’t raised solely by his mother, but also learned from a woodsman who frequently stayed in a cabin near his home. This man became a father figure to him, and he learned the ways of the forest, and how to fight with a sword.
As he grew older, he also grew more and more restless, and spent more and more time living out in the forest. One day, on his return to his mother’s house, she gave him a sword, and said it belonged to his father. She would tell him nothing else about his father, but told him that he should go out into the world, and see what there is to be seen. He left several days later, sword at his hip.
Skills: Swordsmanship - average - Having both passion and some talent, Rûn has learned the sword well. He’s no soldier, and wouldn’t be able to hold himself in a battle-line, but in straight-out fighting, he does well.
Woodscraft - average - Growing up in the forest, learning from his mother, the woodsman, and himself, Rûn can survive in woodlands, away from civilization far better than any ignorant city boy.
Magical nature - Things around Rûn change ever so slightly, warped by his presence. He can’t control this in the slightest, and doesn’t actually know about it himself, but things are very subtly, minutely shifted by his intentions, and his memories.
What this essentially boils down to is that, for example, if he’s trying to be very observant, things will shift just barely, giving him a little bit more of an edge. Perhaps the wind carries a scent or sound to him, or the shadows lighten for an instant. It isn’t known what might happen to him if too much of himself went into such a use of magic, but it likely would have some kind of side effect.
Equipment: Rûn has a deep green woolen cloak over forest toned clothes and old leather armor. He has a satchel with an extra set of clothes, a wilderness survival kit type thing, some food, etc. In addition to this he carries a multi-purpose utility knife, good for work, throwing, or the odd fight.
His most important possession is his sword. His sword of made of steel, with a bronze hilt, and a wire-wrapped grip. The blade is thirty inches long, well tapered, with a double fuller running two-thirds the length of the blade. In essence, it’s an Oakeshott Type XII (http://www.myarmoury.com/feature_spotxii.html)