![[Note by Kraken]](./images/note.png "[Note by Kraken]")
Riverbed, Thohorn
“Each heart and soul is only a gem not yet polished, for only through rigorous work can its true splendor slowly become revealed.”
Name: Thohorn Riverbed
Race: Human
Age: 22
Birthday: 45th of Winter, 491 AV
Gender: Male
Orientation: Heterosexual
Height & Weight: 6’ 7’’; 210 lbs. | 200 cm; 95 kg
Hair & Eye Color: Natural shades of light brown become darker the longer the already unkempt hair gets. They frame and accent already plain, brown eyes.
General Appearance: Tall and appropriately muscled for his size and lifestyle. At a glance someone wouldn’t guess that Thohorn had been raised and trained by Akalaks, creatures known for their sculpted physiques; this young man simply doesn’t measure up.
Despite all of his hours outside his skin remains as fair in complexion as always, never getting more than the lightest of tans. The real wear and tear from his time outdoors come from his clothes. Constantly tattered and dirty, they sport more stains and holes than most would expect. Infrequently replaced and used only to ward off the elements as necessary, Thohorn has been largely unable to afford keeping up his appearance beyond whatever happy happenstance gives his clothes a dip in the water.
Although his clothes might suffer from neglect and sometimes outright abuse, his personal hygiene does not. Teachings from his Akalak mentors passed on the importance of taking care of his body—he only got one, barring interference of the divine. For this reason he makes sure to wash as often as circumstances allow, even making sure his teeth never go neglected. Thohorn had already seen the results of poor dental hygiene, they were experiences he didn’t want to share.
An absence of undue wealth on his travels has prevented Thohorn from developing much of a fashion sense. Not only are the clothes dirty and torn but frequently they’re whatever the man can scrounge up. An old shirt there, makeshift pants there, anything that fits and doesn’t result in disease or excessive discomfort.
“The soul bends, never breaks.”
STRENGTHS
- Tenacity is a defining characteristic. Many nights have been spent huddled in a half-collapsed tent trying to fight off the chill of night and the beating of a rainstorm, wishing he could simply go home. For Thohorn its those very same feelings of despair that can be turned around
- Discipline came about as a bit of a late-bloomer in Thohorn’s life. Only after he felt the sting of his own misbehavior did he come to realize just how valuable self-discipline was. In turn he managed to go from the troublesome boy that no one wanted to acknowledge to the paragon of many Riverfall values. In the eyes of a silent group, it muffled a fire in him they had come to enjoy.
- Humility etched itself into his heart around the same time his self-disicipline came about. Both as a result of trauma, Thohorn learned the hard way that he never was, and never will be, just as special or amazing as he once thought. This has done a lot to ground the man, even if some say he keeps too tight a leash on himself.
- Courage, on the other hand, has been a constant companion. At first the people around him thought he was simply a fool-hardy boy. Only when he grew older did they see his real potential to face his own fears, no matter how deep they ran. Others looking in can see this potential just as easily, though Thohorn has yet to truly learn to rely on it.
- Charm, like invention, became a necessity. Thohorn may have always been a friendly boy as a child, but he was brash. Experience has shifted his natural social inclinations from “insult and pick fights” the something slightly less crude.
WEAKNESSES
- Naïveté for all of his own struggles, Thohorn still has much to learn about the world. Even though he had been considered generally bright among the children of Riverfall, he never quite understood the concept of deceit—and definitely not politics. A goofy charm to some, but generally disabling for the man to still be so ignorant of the lengths others will go to for their own selfish gain. Even when that gain means the suffering of others.
- Willpower is a double-edged sword. When it’s power it can send someone along to great heights. But the stronger the will is, the harder it falls when it breaks. For Thohorn his intense persistence with what he sets his mind to also sets him up for the biggest defeats and the greatest trauma of his life—sometimes you have to know when enough is enough.
- Overprotective out of habit. Much of his life has been spent worrying about breaking loose and hurting something, someone. To Thohorn, the entire world sometimes seems like brittle glass. One wrong word there, one bout of clumsiness there, and a series of events will deliver tragedy to his feet. It isn’t the failings of others that Thohorn frets over, just his own.
- Loneliness has been a constant companion, even when surrounded by friends. It is not that his bonds are shallow or empty, far from it, but instead that his heart still tussles with a desire to settle down and a desire to adventure on. Only when this conflict is resolved will he truly feel accompanied by the people that care so deeply for him.
- Despair cannot always be overcome. Imagine, for a moment, clay. Under the right circumstances it becomes pliable and allows itself to be shaped how the user sees fit. But if the clay is dry it will only crack and shatter. The same holds true for Thohorn, for his tenacity can only combat so much despair—when it fails, it digs him a hole he cannot easily escape.
FEARS
- Hesitation cripples a man. There will come a moment when Thohorn has to make a decision. To go left or to go right? To say yes or to say no? The blonde or the red-head? Some decisions are less momentous than others but all of them are to be carefully weighed. Above even making the wrong decision, Thohorn doesn’t want to make no decision when those moments arrive.
- Isolation is a fear he lives every day. Even with his companions, those he meets in his travels, even the warmth of the occasional woman he comes across do little to feed a hunger of interpersonal bonds and relationships. He feels alone, afraid, like he alone must protect all those around him from the black tsunami that can swallow them whole as an afterthought.
- Loss finds itself as the root of much fear. The fear of loss, death, lovers, friendships, property, self. Loss is what truly causes pain and finds an equally comfortable home with Thohorn as about everyone. But what does he truly wish to never lose? Those by his side? The strength of his arm, the independence of his life? In truth the one thing he feels he must hold onto above all else is simply his freedom to be unrestrained.
IDEALS
- Bravery isn’t a simple place that one can get to. It’s a lifestyle, a promise to oneself and everyone around them. Thohorn wants to be able to look back on his life, and actions, and say that he had the courage to do what seemed difficult, frightening, even deadly—all because he thought that’s what he needed to do. To be brave, in the eyes of the young Riverbed, is to live life without regret.
- Idolation can easily be mistaken as a lust for fame. For Thohorn, it’s merely the desire to be acknowledged. Simple affirmation of his existence isn’t quite good enough for that, of course. Instead he finds himself eternally craving a confirmation of his value. Despite all of the years fending for himself on the road he still can’t truly believe that he has anything worth offering.
- Freedom in the truest sense of the word! Thohorn wants to be free of iron shackles, of engagements, of debts. He wants to be free to pursue whatever he thinks is best at any given time. Someone might call him selfish, irresponsible—but he considers those things the very strength he needs to achieve freedom. Without the weight of responsibility, especially towards others, to motivate him he can’t imagine how he’d ever become a truly independent person able to support not just themselves, but those around them as well.
CONFLICTS AND THEMES
- Despair vs. Hope is a constant tug-of-war. Everything in the man’s life is like walking a tight-rope with life constantly pitching things in his direction. Thohorn has to knock them aside, move out of the way, and do anything else he can to not fall off—when he does, it’s very hard to get back up again.
- Tradition vs. Adventure is yet another tightrope that he walks. Part of Thohorn wants to follow the usual path—learn a trade, fight for Riverfall, get married and settle down. The other parts of him know there is something better out there and the argument between the two is constant. He questions his every decision and fails to proceed with confidence, always wondering if the safer road, or the riskier road, was the better option.
- Limits vs. Freedom is the idea that maybe this is as good as things get. Maybe it’s time to call it a day, go home, have a family, and pass on the torch to someone else—maybe his children. The other side of this coin is that Thohorn Riverbed has more to offer the world than sons or daughters and that he both can, and deserves to, pursue his own passions regardless of the social pressures around him, regardless of even his failures. It’s a comforting idea that isn’t always so easy to believe.
PSYCHOLOGY – ENTP
- DOMINANT FUNCTION – Extraverted Intuition
- AUXILIARY FUNCTION – Introverted Thinkingtake on more than he can handle.
- TERTIARY FUNCTION – Extraverted Feelingquite the spontaneous socialite when he really lets loose.
- INFERIOR FUNCTION – Introverted Sensing
- General Behavior: Social, friendly, accepting, and filled with wanderlust. Upon first meeting the man there are few who would take exception to his spontaneous attitude and exemplary social skills, enough to put anyone together in casual interaction. More than this he is also not a man with a mind left dormant, instead bright and buzzing full of life and desire to learn just as much as his body wishes to grow strong. Matured by the wandering life of the past four some years, Thohorn has yet to truly come into himself and realize that interpersonal potential that he has. Many lives could be touched by this man, who remains painfully oblivious of the impact he can have on others.
Although darker applications of this sort of magnetic personality do exist, few would peg Riverbed as a man likely to fall down such a route without great provocation. Skills that instead make him the life of a party could easily be turned into things that expertly leave in pieces the nights, even lives, of many. As much as such things may professedly disgust the man, you can’t help but wonder…
“Life is the furnace, trial the hammer, and triumph yet another fold in the blade.”
The story of this young man comes with no great pain, no great struggle, and sacrifice surrounding his birth. Thohorn was conceived and born to two loving parents, both of whom are alive to this day. The Riverbed family and bloodline dates back to some of the earliest years of Riverfall, uncreatively being where many of the family thing the name came from. The Bedrock of Riverfall. What a shame to those who thought themselves clever that it only turned out to be another mundane word, the deeper meaning lost on many who hear it. Of course it has not once stopped any member of his family for taking pride in their dedication to Riverfall, it’s roots, culture, and traiditions. Of course it was only natural that these things would be passed on from generation to generation.
This included the generation of Thohorn himself.
Wealth flowed to his family, but in humble amounts. They did not live in the exquisitive splendor that some merchants did but they were certainly more comfortable than most—well and good for a family of five, supporting three children! The eldest two of these were daughters, beautiful and bright and the dream of many men of Riverfall—not least of all the offspring-desperate Akalaks—and quickly found themselves married off, one before the age of twenty! Thohorn himself resisted the saddle of marriage, even into his twenties. Of course his life was filled with many adventures and trials, none of which had little impact on him or his life at any level of point.
Much of his struggles and development as a person began simply—his family had a heritage of combat, armed even with the retractable steel shield of Isurian make that had been the pride and joy of one of his great-grandfathers. Even today it was hung on the wall of their small estate, near the main doors, for all to see and admire. The exact origins of which were uncertain to…most everyone. While his father told one tale, his mother another, and each of his sisters something else entirely (while each claimed to have heard their version from either of their mother or father).
It was something that he had admired since he was a boy.
So like the sons of his family did, he dedicated his arm to the blade and his other to the shield. Yet his parents would spare no expense, quickly submersing him in the rigor and discipline of Akalak training. They had a strong, close relationship with the ebony-skinned people of Riverfall—another point of pride for the family—and were not afraid to show it. Another family of Akalaks declared it their responsibility to help mold the boy into an objection of fitness to rival even an Akalak man, despite his otherwise shorter lifespan. These words were inspiring to the boy who had otherwise been drowned in stories of racism across the lands. Some exaggerated, some not. Mizahar could be cruel place and animosity between species was not at all rare or unexpected.
So to see two families, if no one else, working together so closely across racial lines? Yes, it was no wonder that this inspired him. What did not, however, was what he found in the grueling schedule laid out for him by his Akalak teachers. Discipline was one of their core tenets and it was no low bar to reach for. The Akalak would take nothing short of excellence, for they were certain—and almost always right—that these lessons, learned now, would save the life of every young man as he went out to hunt the constant threat of the Zith hunting parties.
Thohorn too unkindly to this, however, and fought this system with every fiber of his being. Of course this was not at all uncommon and the Akalak family was fully prepared to deal with an unruly boy: They simply made his days all that much more difficult. So this continued, and the boy cried and fought and resisted but, slowly, fell into routine. What the Riverbed family expected was, simply, that he had learned his lesson. But this boy was more stubborn and mischievous than that. By the time he was a teenager he had even grown to look forward to the training, finding that his well-trained body and excellent physique made him extremely popular with all of the cute girls in his life.
No, instead his outlet had become…everyone else. In all other aspects of life he was a nuisance, a prankster, even stealing fruit here and there. Scoldings from his teachers and elders were harsh each time they found out, warning him over and over about the arena. The blood, the pain, and how if he kept this up too much longer he would quickly find himself there and pitted against an oppent he would have no hope of handling. Although crimes as petty as his would be treated with a point-based match, the bloodshed and muscles cut would be quite real and impactful, even for him.
Nothing about these tales inhibited him in the slightest. By the time he was thirteen quite the name had been made for the boy, not one that the Riverbed family wanted associated with them or their noble heritage. An afternoon finally arrived, the boy energetic before the day’s excruciating sessions at the blade and shield, as he ran through the market districts of Riverfall with a small band of equally unruly boys. Playing a rather rough game of tag they quickly found themselves charging through the produce and fruits imported for the people of the city, and in a brazen displayed hopped into a cart, ran across ,and turned the fruity contents into nothing but dirty mush.
Finally they had had enough.
The merchant himself, a middle-aged human man, called out to the group. Once their attention was had he made his point to take this to the city a very clear one. Thohorn stood up, easily the biggest nuisance of the quarter, and claimed for full responsibility for anything the overgrown oaf wanted to do. Infuriated by the insubordinace of the boy, he made it clear that their dispute would be settled in the arena—should this child defy him like a man, he would fight him like a man. Thohorn himself was wholly unimpressed—he was large for his age, and had been trained for over four years in the art of combat! This old man? He was nothing, no one at all and he would be felled at the hand of the Riverbed son!
So when the dirt was under his boots and the sun beat down on his bareback, the cries of the arena all around them while the middle-aged man too readied himself? It was no wonder that otal confidence filled him. Certainly all in Riverfall had experience at the sword, but few would retain it for that long, surely? Certainly no human would, not some lofty-living merchant of all people! So the boy drew his weapon and charged forward as the match began. Wooden weapons at the ready and he found himself able to swing much faster than with the usual metal with which he worked.
This would have been a cinch were he not but a haughty child. The man deflected each of his blows with the competency expected of a Riverfall warrior. No Zith blade had ever cut that flesh and yet this arrogant pinprick of a boy thought he could? In seconds the gap in experience and strength was clear, yet the merchant used it to dig a point into the boy—one he never did forget. He fought just enough to exhaust the child, beating him down until his toned arms could barely lift the wooden toys they had been told to fight with. It was only when he was on his knees did he concede, unable to so much as parry a blow that the man wanted to strike full.
He was, in all ways, humiliated.
A fine was paid by his parents and worked off by his own hands only to further his humiliation. Worse than the daily training being made ever worse because of his actions, it was taken away entirely. He felt himself an outcast, unable to look in the eye any of the men in good standing with this town and its people. Was this what isolation really felt like; the dark figure among the colorful crowd, forever unable to join in those festivities? It was during these weeks that he learned true pain, the pain of loneliness, the pain of isolation, and learned just how much he hated it.
Never again did the boy defy the people of Riverfall, no. In fact he had quite a bit to make up for; an entire lifetime of being nothing but the pain in someone’s backside or the stubborn knot in the hair. He could do and be much more for these people, and so he did. Redoubled was his efforts at the blade and shield, and his skills soared as a result. He would not lose to someone like that merchant again, the man who had seemed like such an impossible wall to scale when they stood face-to-face in the Gideon Combat Arena. That wall would be climbed. One day.
Over the next few years saw a transformation and maturation of the boy. Between the years of thirteen and eighteen he went from one of the most despised and unwanted members of the Riverfall family to one of the most welcomed. Arrogance turned into humility, haughtiness to charm. While the ladies of the city may have been hotly contested, Thohorn himself was known to have earned the hearts of a couple. Thohorn himself even developed a largely unresolved relationship with a young Konti girl, one who had passed through the city likely to perhaps end up a mate of one of the many eligible Akalak men. Her departure only added to the mindset that would follow.
All in all he had shaped up to be a great boon for the city, his family, and everyone whose life he touched. Much of this saw an increase in the happiness and satisfaction that he felt with his life, something no one could deny seeing. Now an adult by human standards he had become someone noteworthy, someone positive.
Yet he still felt alone. The more he grew, the more detached he seemed .He was surrounded by friends, attractive women, and a loving and caring family. He would have a great life ahead of himself and had already begun to distinguish his youthful ability as something to keep an eye on—he would only improve from this point forward. Waves crashed around him and yet he was an island.
Then came the pressures of adulthood. As a man there were duties to fulfill, including the duty to carry on the Riverbed name as the sole son of the family. This, of course, he had no immediate objection to. The idea of a family did not perturb or repel him in the slightest, yet it was the…necessity of it that got to him. Why did he need to do this, why could he not choose to do something else entirely? This grated on him to the point of crescendo once he became an adult, to the point he confronted his parents and family as a whole.
They were abashed. Of course they would be! No member of the Riverbed family had taken leave from Riverfall before, had gone outside of this social construct. But this was no fairy tale, no great story of escaping from the binds of tyranny. If he wished to leave, to forge his own path in life away from the walls of Riverfall then he could do so. Each risk undertaken would be his entirely, but the world would be open to him. He could go at his leisure and never return, though Riverfall would always be the home that can welcome him back. If wanderlust truly had him in such a tight grip then by all means, fulfill it! Satisfy that hunger and come back a greater man than your wildest dreams could have predicted.
“Just don’t die, Thohorn. None of us here may forgive ourselves should the next we see of you be your corpse.”
This was the sentiment shared by his entire family, even two of the Akalak men that had trained him so closely. AS they sat about the fire in the fall of the night, his two sisters, parents, and those two Akalaks that had so well helped raise him he made his hardest request yet—the shield. The last adventurer in their family had been the man who used it and he wanted to be the next, to bring further glory to it and craft a story that they could all know the full extent of. What better skills to charge out into the world with than the combat abilities of a man trained in Riverfall itself?
They acquiesced. With that he was on his own, packed up and ready to go in a matter of weeks. His boots his dirt and he was on his way, able to charge out into the world. But what first, what to do? There was a whole world before him and he knew little about it! …That was it, then. He would learn more about the world by seeing more of the world. Riverfall was on the far east end of this part of the continent, separated from Falyndar by only a strait. Yet he had no desire to see more coastal land so close to home, he lived on the coast for eighteen years!
Syliras. That was his destination. He would go through Cyphrus, into Syliras, and all the way to the other end. From Riverfall to…to..Sunberth! Yes, that would be his goal and he would not hesitate. Nor would he bolt right for the city, for that matter. No, instead he had many adventures. He visited each city between there and Riverfall over the next two years. There he met warriors, women, and just people he could be friends with! He fought and he drank, but most importantly he survived. Close calls were had in abundance but they only served to sharpen him as a man, as a person, and as a fighter. With the unmistakable weight of his shield and the sharp and true edge of his sword he made sure to carve out a life for himself.
Yet still felt so tragically alone. It was only upon his eventual arrival in Sunberth, and the completion of his long-set goal at the age of twenty, to make it to this city. His arrival seemed to accompany a big day—a local hero, a man known only as Red, had just won his freedom! Apparently he had become quite the attraction in town and the stories behind his incarceration here had been many and varied. Just as no one knew the origin of the shield on his arm it seemed no one knew the origin of the man in the arena, undefeated. So why not do something crazy? He went to the arena and made a bold, brazen request with his eyes full of the fire one would expect of someone crazy enough to go to their deaths.
He would fight Red.
Those who fought in these arenas were never terribly skilled, no. This much he knew, for this was not Riverfall—easily home to the best that Mizahar had to offer, he decided—and they could not hold a candle to someone trained by those dark giants. So he entered and only provided that information that he was from Riverfall; certainly the man would know what that meant! In fact it seemed he did. The request was honored and this would represent his final fight, his freedom already assured, should he survive.
Once again he found himself on the arena floor, the entire crowd cheering a name that was not his own. Flashes of that merchant came back to him, flashes of Riverfall and those who had cried out for the man to break that little boy down so they need not deal with him further. They cried the same for Red, cried for him to kill the man before him. As he had walked out it was a look of disappointment that washed over his face—likely having expected an Akalak to step forth, not just a tall human—as he readied his twin weapons, a style he had never fought before.
Yet he could not cut the man.
Decades seemed to fly by around them as the battle went on and on. Steel clashed with steel and the Isurian shield on his arm took a greater beating than it ever had before, yet stood strong and resilient—a combination of Akalak training, human resourcefulness, and the metal of the Isur. He was a formidable Mizaharan concoction indeed. Yet this man with no name fought him to a standstill, the crowd silent with awe, as they gasped in what air they could to keep going. Once again his limbs reached the point of being unable to support him, yet a new feeling accompanied him—satisfaction. Not a word had been shared between them and he could already tell that he and this Red would have much in common, much to share.
The proctors declared an end with no man dead on the floor. It would have been a crime itself for such a spectacle to need to end in bloodshed when no true winner could b determined. Instead they both walked out that day, one of them free while the other was enlightened. He and this man before him…yes, it was writ. After their conversation following that fated battle in Sunberth they agreed to travel together as partners, friends.
There was no greater friend than him that he had ever had.
For the next almost three years they traveled together, near identical in age as they traveled the lands. Never once during this did he himself return to Riverfall, though couriers were sent to inform the Riverbed family of his exploits, whereabouts, and that he was indeed still alive. All the while he and Red traveled, fought, conquered foe and woman alike as they made by Syliras and Cyphrus a home for them both. They were happy.
Finally it was decided that a new great undertaking, to top all previous, would be theirs. An expedition was beginning, the first in quite a while, to uncover the mysteries of Darva. It was daunting, terrifying, and the two took off with great haste to make sure they would be among them. Somehow they were both confident that this would bring them much closer to their goals. Red to his name and Thohorn to the path that would never end.
Destiny had much in store for them both.
“A hero is someone who holds with them at all times all of the treasures of their life.”
WEAPONS AND ARMOR
- Longsword
- Shield, Retractable, Metal[Heirloom]
- Studded Leather, light armor
- Scabbard
- Harness, weapon
OUTDOOR EQUIPMENT
- Axe, woodman's
- Sewing Kit
- Whetstone x10
- Backpack, empty
- Bedroll
- Blanket, winter
- Brick press
- Lantern, hooded
- Pouch, belt
- Pot, Iron
- Preserving kit
- Rope, hemp (50ft)
- Rucksack
- Ration, strong x10
- Torch
- Tent, four person
- Traveller's stock x3
- Water additive x3
- Water skin
- Gloves, leather
- Jacket, leather
HORSE AND EQUIPMENT
- Horse, mixed
- Saddle, pack
- Saddlebags, large
- Feed, 100 lbs.
- Barding, leather
- Blanket and hood, horse, large
HUNTING AND FISHING
- Animal snare, small
- Fishing Kit
LEDGER
| Purchase | Cost | Total |
| Starting | +100 GM | 100 GM |
| Housing Trade-In | +500 GM | 600 GM |
| Longsword | 15 GM | 585 GM |
| Studded Leather | 25 GM | 560 GM |
| Gloves, leather | 5 SM | 559 GM, 5 SM |
| Jacket, leather | 1 GM | 558 GM, 5 SM |
| Axe, woodman's | 4 GM | 554 GM, 5 SM |
| Sewing Kit | 18 GM | 536 GM, 5 SM |
| Whetstone x10 | 10 CM | 536 GM, 4 SM |
| Backpack, empty | 2 GM | 534 GM, 4 SM |
| Bedroll | 1 SM | 534 GM, 3 SM |
| Blanket, winter | 5 SM | 533 GM, 8 SM |
| Brick press | 10 GM | 523 GM, 8 SM |
| Lantern, hooded | 7 GM | 516 GM, 8 SM |
| Pouch, belt | 1 GM | 515 GM, 8 SM |
| Pot, Iron | 5 SM | 515 GM, 3 SM |
| Preserving kit | 5 GM | 510 GM, 3 SM |
| Rope, hemp (50ft) | 1 GM | 509 GM, 3 SM |
| Rucksack | 1 GM | 508 GM, 3 SM |
| Ration, strong x10 | 70 GM | 438 GM, 3 SM |
| Torch | 2 CM | 438 GM, 2 SM, 8 CM |
| Tent, four person | 10 GM | 428 GM, 2 SM, 8 CM |
| Traveler’s stock x3 | 9 GM | 419 GM, 2 SM, 8 CM |
| Water additive x3 | 9 GM | 410 GM, 2 SM, 8 CM |
| Water skin | 1 GM | 409 GM, 2 SM, 8 CM |
| Horse, mixed | 50 GM | 359 GM, 2 SM, 8 CM |
| Saddle, pack | 5 GM | 354 GM, 2 SM, 8 CM |
| Saddlebags, large | 8 GM | 346 GM, 2 SM, 8 CM |
| Barding, leather | 40 GM | 306 GM, 2 SM, 8 CM |
| Blanket and hood, horse, large | 8 GM | 298 GM, 2 SM, 8 CM |
| Feed, 100lbs | 50 CM | 297 GM, 7 SM, 8 CM |
| Animals snare, small | 5 GM | 293 GM, 7 SM, 8 CM |
| Fishing Kit | 10 GM | 283 GM, 7 SM, 8 CM |
| Scabbard | 4 GM | 279 GM, 7 SM, 8 CM |
| Weapon Harness | 5 GM | 274 GM, 7 SM, 8 CM |
“The sum of a life well spent.”
PERSONAL SKILLS
| Skill | EXP | Total | Proficiency |
| Sword (Long) | +26 SP | 26 | Competent |
| Shield | +11 SP, +15 RB | 26 | Competent |
| Cooking | +8 SP | 8 | Novice |
| Food Preservation | +5 SP | 5 | Novice |
LANGUAGE SKILLS
Fluent Language: Common
Basic Language: Tukant
Poor Language: Kontinese
KNOWN LORES
Lore of History of Riverfall
Lore of Religion: Wysar
“I reflect the people around me.”
THREAD LIST
- I’m all lonely still!
