Post by Raven on Jul 20, 2008 7:41:40 GMT -6
Name: Rem Fallhart
Age: 15
Gender: I'm SORELY tempted to say 'other'...nah, male.
Pack: N/A
Position: N/A
Race/Breed: Raven Spirit
Appearance: Under normal circumstances, Rem looks like most other humans. He is about a little over 6', and 168 lbs. (Although I'm not sure if that figures into appearance.) His skin is light, but not pale, and he has bushy brown hair. He has a wholly average build despite being quite tall, due to his love for good food. His usual dress consists of an outlandish and oversized blue coat (needless to say, it was made for a VERY large person), which he had to trim and resew the sleeves of. It has two holes in the back. Underneath that, Rem sports a dusty leather tunic which has managed to fade to beige. Finally, he wears dusty brown pants woven from rough cotton. When he chooses to, he can fly using black wings that sprout out his back, or just change into a small island raven. He doesn't do the latter much because of the inconvenience of getting out of his clothes.
Picture: N/A
Personality: For the most part, Rem is the most laid back being anybody would ever meet. Most troubles don't rattle him, and he can take insults by the bucketful. Beneath everything, he has a very calculating mind, always looking for a way to escape a situation or talk a way out of a bad spot, or even just remembering places for future reference. He is an avid bookworm-type, enjoying reading greatly and values the pursuit of knowledge.
Weaknesses: Rem's eyes can't stand bright lights. Humidity or overt dryness also weakens him, especially his ability to fly. Finally, he's afraid of fire.
Strengths: He can fly long distances, and weave spells of darkness.
Weapon of choice: Rem wields a large claymore, which he turns into a talon guard when flying.
History: N/A...for now.
Rp: A lone minstrel traveled along the forest path. "Ah, the breath of the morning soothes the soul so..." He twiddled his flute between his thumbs, and sauntered along slowly. After yawning for about 5 minutes or so, he pocketed his flute into his green robe, which draped down diagonally, ending from his left knee to his right shin. Below the robe, he had on some iron-chain leggings, died brown in case he needed to disguise himself as a tree. Being a elf, bonding with nature was one of his many skills. Elrid, for that was his name, straightened his royal cap carefully, as not to crumple the phoenix feather lying on top.
Finally, he exited the forest and came upon a grand city. "Wow! The map never mentioned anything like this!" Elrid, being ever casual, simply strolled into the city. Looking about, he observed some festivity. Being a simpler elf raised in the forest, he'd not seen quite a large gathering yet. As he approached the castle, he overheard some guards conversing.
"I got to torture the prisoner today!" stated one of the guards. "It's a shame though. After a while, he's stopped responding to the machines." The other guard simply sighed and they both entered the castle. Elrid didn't like the idea of torture, so he followed the two guards deeper into the castle. Luckily, he could camoflauge easily, and wasn't detected until he got into a narrow chamber.
"God, he's been following us!" The two bumbling guards turned around and raised their spears at him. Elrid, casual as always, attempted to talk his way out.
"Now, now, I just got lost!" he protested. The two guards, not caring, began stabbing at him. Sighing, he nimbly rolled under the spears and knocked them out of the guards' hands with his flute. Before they could gather their defenses, Elrid quickly whipped a gigantic broadsword out of his robe and slashed their heads off. Suddenly, a dozen guards rushed into the chamber, and one took him down with a stab to the gut. "Oh, curses..." he mumbled, as the poison in the spear took effect and he was knocked out.
(Needless to say, this is from another site, but it's pretty much how I roll.)
Password: Midnight
Age: 15
Gender: I'm SORELY tempted to say 'other'...nah, male.
Pack: N/A
Position: N/A
Race/Breed: Raven Spirit
Appearance: Under normal circumstances, Rem looks like most other humans. He is about a little over 6', and 168 lbs. (Although I'm not sure if that figures into appearance.) His skin is light, but not pale, and he has bushy brown hair. He has a wholly average build despite being quite tall, due to his love for good food. His usual dress consists of an outlandish and oversized blue coat (needless to say, it was made for a VERY large person), which he had to trim and resew the sleeves of. It has two holes in the back. Underneath that, Rem sports a dusty leather tunic which has managed to fade to beige. Finally, he wears dusty brown pants woven from rough cotton. When he chooses to, he can fly using black wings that sprout out his back, or just change into a small island raven. He doesn't do the latter much because of the inconvenience of getting out of his clothes.
Picture: N/A
Personality: For the most part, Rem is the most laid back being anybody would ever meet. Most troubles don't rattle him, and he can take insults by the bucketful. Beneath everything, he has a very calculating mind, always looking for a way to escape a situation or talk a way out of a bad spot, or even just remembering places for future reference. He is an avid bookworm-type, enjoying reading greatly and values the pursuit of knowledge.
Weaknesses: Rem's eyes can't stand bright lights. Humidity or overt dryness also weakens him, especially his ability to fly. Finally, he's afraid of fire.
Strengths: He can fly long distances, and weave spells of darkness.
Weapon of choice: Rem wields a large claymore, which he turns into a talon guard when flying.
History: N/A...for now.
Rp: A lone minstrel traveled along the forest path. "Ah, the breath of the morning soothes the soul so..." He twiddled his flute between his thumbs, and sauntered along slowly. After yawning for about 5 minutes or so, he pocketed his flute into his green robe, which draped down diagonally, ending from his left knee to his right shin. Below the robe, he had on some iron-chain leggings, died brown in case he needed to disguise himself as a tree. Being a elf, bonding with nature was one of his many skills. Elrid, for that was his name, straightened his royal cap carefully, as not to crumple the phoenix feather lying on top.
Finally, he exited the forest and came upon a grand city. "Wow! The map never mentioned anything like this!" Elrid, being ever casual, simply strolled into the city. Looking about, he observed some festivity. Being a simpler elf raised in the forest, he'd not seen quite a large gathering yet. As he approached the castle, he overheard some guards conversing.
"I got to torture the prisoner today!" stated one of the guards. "It's a shame though. After a while, he's stopped responding to the machines." The other guard simply sighed and they both entered the castle. Elrid didn't like the idea of torture, so he followed the two guards deeper into the castle. Luckily, he could camoflauge easily, and wasn't detected until he got into a narrow chamber.
"God, he's been following us!" The two bumbling guards turned around and raised their spears at him. Elrid, casual as always, attempted to talk his way out.
"Now, now, I just got lost!" he protested. The two guards, not caring, began stabbing at him. Sighing, he nimbly rolled under the spears and knocked them out of the guards' hands with his flute. Before they could gather their defenses, Elrid quickly whipped a gigantic broadsword out of his robe and slashed their heads off. Suddenly, a dozen guards rushed into the chamber, and one took him down with a stab to the gut. "Oh, curses..." he mumbled, as the poison in the spear took effect and he was knocked out.
(Needless to say, this is from another site, but it's pretty much how I roll.)
Password: Midnight
