Draas

[Draas]

Draas, the Scarecrow Appearance Race: Human Gender: Male Age: 23 Birthday: 41st, Fall, 493AV. Birthplace: Lhavit Home: Kalinor Current Location: Alvadas Appearance: The first thing a person is bound to notice is the stark way that Draas paints his face; there is a thick, chalky-white line running from his forehead all the way down to his throat. There are two thin white lines on either side of that center line, which run from his lips to just under his chin. For lore's sake, this design does not seem concurrent with any existing religion or cultural practice (as in: he totally made it up himself and it's because it kind of looks like spider chelicerae if you squint abstractly enough). This aesthetic choice aside, he looks pretty human. He's 5'10, kind of leggy, brown skin, built like a gymnast. His face is angle-y, his gaze is narrow, and his expressions are muted. He talks in a low, creepy monotone because of this psychosomatic thing where he speaks with the wrong part of his throat. His eyes are dark brown, almost black. He keeps his black hair short on the sides, less so on top. He's got knuckly hands and his fingers are pretty calloused. If anyone can catch him without his face painted, there's one small blade scar on his left cheek. He also looks like he's never slept a day in his life. Being around him can be unnerving because he does not hold himself like a normal human. He keeps very still unless he has reason to move--and then he moves quickly and efficiently. He understands people best through body language, and so his movements tend to all be very intentional. He very rarely appears relaxed, and also tends to glance around and appear distracted by movements and sounds around him. At his most docile, his upper body holds so much tension that he couldn't put his shoulders down even if he tried. Character Concept You know Tarzan? He's kind of like that, but with spiders. Character History Once, there was a boy who lived near Lhavit with his mother, father, brothers, and sister. They were too close to the wilds for comfort, but it was all they could afford to do, and to their credit, the family lived through many very normal, very happy years there. However, when the boy was eight years old, a pack of monsters grew bold enough to attack the outskirts of the city. His isolated family fell prey to the beasts and his mother barely had time to hide him before his world dissolved into chaos. He watched, paralyzed with fear, as his siblings were torn apart and devoured in front of him. The creatures surely would have found him, too, had a small group of Symenestra not arrived at that exact moment to kill the creatures with their poisoned arrows. One in particular, a female, crept in to investigate the house further, and was very surprised when a small human child appeared. Although she was there for her Harvest, the Symenestra have little use for human males. She would have left him there to die without a single thought, had he not began to follow her around. From house to house, the boy continued to wander along behind her, saying nothing. Even when she climbed a tree to speak with her fellow Widows, the boy stood silently at its base and stared up at them. It was if he was waiting for one of them to come down, though they could not imagine why. It was clear that the boy was not in his right mind. Perhaps she eventually felt bad for him, or perhaps she decided that he might one day be helpful--even if just as a snack. Whatever her initial reasons, she decided to bring the boy back with her, to her home in Kalinor. Silvea, as she was named, kept others of her blood from eating him during those first few weeks in the webs. It was hotly debated what the boy would do if he was allowed to stay--or if he should even stay at all. The boy remained silent the whole time, drifting around behind Silvea when he could, or hiding from the others when he couldn't. The world was scary, the Symenestra were alien to him, and everything he loved was now gone. And then one day, out of nowhere, he just started... screaming. He screamed at everything, at nothing. He screamed until he lost his voice, until he had broken everything he could break. He roared at his ghosts and yelled at his own sorrow until there was nothing left of his old self, and he had no more tears, and his bones shook so hard that he was sure he was going to fall apart. When he was finally done, an empty heap on the floor, Silvea picked him up, brought him to bed, and told her new son to rest his poor head. How horrible it must be, she said, to be so lonely. When he awoke, the boy was alive again, but never the same. He devoted his life to Silvea, regarding her as his surrogate mother and his savior. He learned the ways of the Symenestra and the dark world they inhabited. He grew into a servant of the blood, and quickly became one of Silvea's most valuable belongings. She kept him very close, showering her odd son with affection, but never letting him wander too far into important matters like politics or the complex world outside of their silken kingdom. She even kept him away from other humans who visited, not wanting to confuse him or cause him to long for a world outside of hers. He proved an excellent commodity, willing to do anything so long as his mother thought it was right. His transition into this world was far from flawless. Even as he became a regular sight in Kalinor, he was still very obviously a human among weavers. His own body marked him as an outsider no matter how loyally he served. He had no choice but to learn to hunt for himself, as he could not live on the same liquid diet that the Symenestra required. He was teased, often, for being heavy and clumsy and short compared to the wispy, graceful frames of his peers. He learned quickly that it was better to keep his head down and politely ignore important matters happening around him, as many Symenestra were not comfortable with a strange little human boy listening in on their conversations. Even the infrastructure of the city itself was not always built to support him. He has spent a great deal of his life learning how to improvise and navigate in ways that help him make up for his overall lack of claws and fangs. Eventually, he was given the name "Draas" as something of a demeaning joke. His original name is nearly lost to him, now, but his title will always be that of a half-breed child. As he grew into a young adult, he came into a great deal of pride as a hunter. The subterranean creatures on the cave floor were one thing, but he found great success venturing out into the surrounding world and bringing back big game to feed his mother and adoptive siblings. After a while, he was even invited along on a Harvest, where his human frame provided muscle and strength that their Symenestran forms simply could not provide. As such, he has grown talented in fast-paced, close quarters combat--as it was his job to step in when a fight become truly dangerous for his fragile companions. It is during this time that he started painting his face. It was just a coping mechanism at first, a little war paint to help him confidently throw himself into potentially very deadly situations. Eventually, though, it became a source of identity for him; while he was obviously not one of the Symenestra, changing the way his face looked made him feel as though he was not a human, either. Between this creepy display and his tendency to stand perfectly still and stare people down, some of his companions began to jokingly refer to him as their "Scarecrow", which he has very much enjoyed. Adulthood brought a number of problems to his life--the least of which being that he was becoming increasingly jealous of Silvea's actual children. While she had never been particularly unkind to him, she had also never quite shown him the same affection that she shows those of her own blood. He found himself longing more and more for his mother's attention and acknowledgement, obsessing over how he might better serve her and prove himself a good son, worthy of her love. But even if he was able to do it, there were other things beginning to gnaw at his mind. While he had spent a phenomenal amount of his life repressing his own feelings for the sake of finding purpose in his new world... Drass was not a complete idiot. Now that he had been on several Harvests with the Symenestra, he was dodging the uncomfortable thought that Silvea may have appeared in Lhavit that day because she intended to abduct someone like his real mother or his human sister for her own Harvest. It wasn't even entirely out of the question that the monsters that attacked his family may have been sent by Silvea herself, to create sympathy for their cause or create a convenient reason for a human to leave their home. He would never say this out loud, and he has no particular reason to believe it--but he has not truly found a way to disprove it, either. But as of late, he has not had much time for worrying. While Silvea was a hearty breeder by Symenestran standards, her third child was one that she carried herself, and it brought many complications--it was removed just a little too late to avoid the effects of the infant's venom. While not immediately fatal, the dose has made her weak, and her physical state has been slowly deteriorating since that day. The child did not survive the removal, which seems to have put a heavy weight on Silvea's mind. Draas, wanting nothing more than to see his mother healthy again, left the city of Kalinor in hopes of finding a medicine or cure for Silvea's condition somewhere in the outside world. Though it would surely immortalize him as a hero in Symenestran history if he could find something to save their population as a whole--his first and only goal is to save his mother before it is too late. Language Fluent Language: Symenos Basic Language: Common Skills Skill EXP Total Proficiency Acrobatics 15-SP 15 Novice Climbing 10-SP 10 Novice Brawling 15-RB, 10-SP 25 Novice Hunting 15-SP 15 Novice Lores Lore of Symenestra Culture Lore of Religion: Viratas Possessions x1 Set of Clothing -Silken Shirt -Silken Pants -Silken Undergarments -Silken Coat -Simple Sandals x1 Waterskin x1 Silken Knapsack which contains: -Comb (Bone) -Brush (Bone) -Soap -Fruit rations (7 days worth) x1 Eating Knife x1 Flint & Steel Heirloom: A vial of the venom that is slowly killing his mother. While he intends to use it to help find some kind of cure or counteractive medicine (and would be loathe to waste any of it), it could potentially be used as a powerful, acidic poison in an emergency. Housing Location: Alvadas House: Currently staying at the Wolf's Cave, when he's not sleeping out on someone's rooftop or something. Ledger Purchase Cost Total Starting +100 GM 100 GM Cash In Housing +500 GM 600 GM Living Expenses Spring 517 (Poor) -45 GM 555 GM Wolf's Cave Rent (Spring 517) -9 GM, 1 SM 545 GM, 9 SM Grease Paint -2 GM 543 GM, 9 SM Thread List Spring, 517 AV (19th) Accusations of theivery. (29th) And then it started raining fish.

[Draas]

Personal Notes

04/20/17 - Tweaked the description of his face paint to be more practical and less like he's a really big "The Crow" fan. It took me three design iterations but I finally got it.

04/24/17 - What if I just made Draas absurdly good at climbing but left all other skills at a novice level. What if he just stubbornly tried to solve all of his problems with climbing. What if.