Timshel

[Timshel]

Timshel Race: Mixed (Half Benshira, Half Eypharian) Gender: Male Age: 22 Birthday: 24, Summer, 491 Birthplace: The deserts of Eyktol, near The Redstone Cliffs Height: 6' Weight: 170lbs Appearance/Character Concept: Moments in a Canyon That evening, Timshel trudged down to the bottom of the valley and stooped to run his fingers through the soil where water once flowed. He could feel the lingering warmth of the sand as it created a small pile beneath his hand. When he looked up, the sun had threaded itself against the canyon's edge, creating the likeness of a gigantic hearth in the gorge. His tan robe turned a shimmering yellow in the light. All about, the sun's rays bounced and played against the rock in glimmers of orange, red, and gold. Even the creosote bushs' normally green and yellow stillness seemed to dance in the fiery haze of the day's end. At the bottom of the gorge, beneath his jet-black brows, Timshel's deep, green-blue eyes pierced through the coming dusk. Timshel let gravity take him as he fell back to lean against the hard rock behind him. He yawned and allowed himself a full body stretch, holding it for one...two... good. He let his body relax and brushed his fingers through the scruff of his beard. It was getting itchy again, and he'd have to trim it soon. His bangs were almost to his eyes as well; he'd have to cut them back. But not now. Now he looked up at the moon and the stars-- which had just begun to come out. He sighed and raised his hand up towards the sky. So soft just a couple years ago, Timshel couldn't even feel the cracks in his callouses anymore. He was still skinny, but a bit more capable now. As he lay there, his body enjoyed the hard day's ache. With each breath, Timshel could feel his stomach rise and ripple in unison with his heartbeat. He smiled, flexed, and unclenched before bringing his arm down to rest beneath his head. He closed his eyes and had no trouble sleeping right there in the sand. ... Timshel woke up with a start. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled, and he took care to sit up slowly. The sun was already high in the sky-- he had overslept. As he scanned the sands, he didn't notice anything unusual. It was too hot and too late in the day for most intelligent creatures to be in the open now. Still, Timshel's heart wouldn't stop racing. As he gazed over the horizon, Timshel felt the knot in his stomach tighten. Finally, he thought to look up. As he did so, he saw a tiny dot-- miniscule-- in the sky next to the cliff above him. It looked like a speck of dust, but it wasn't moving. Squinting, he could also see a crow circling nearby. A warm breeze blew over his beaded brow, rose, and then died. The speck was getting bigger. His eyes widened when he realized what was above him. He scrambled to get up, but in the panic his foot slipped in the loose sand, and he fell backwards in a billow of dust. He checked the sky speck again. Mistake. SPLAT. Right between the eyes. A hundred-foot free-fall of crap between the eyes. Timshel cursed, spat, and then immediately cursed again. He had been staring at bird poop for what must have been at least three minutes. He got up and sloshed around the rest of the water in his canteen. Not much left. Timshel carefully swallowed the remaining moisture in his mouth. To his left the circling crow had landed. It turned its head to look at him cockeyed. Timshel wiped his brow and eyed the bird. It cooed at him while pruning its feathers. Timshel responded by kicking sand in its direction. The crow immediately CAW-CAWED away to a nearby creosote bush. That bush which had seemed so biblical the night before now bent under the weight of this fat, black bird. Timshel watched silently as it promptly lifted its hind feathers to defecate once again, this time on the flowers. He let out a small snort, which turned into a full belly laugh. The crow seemed to laugh with him, CAW-CAWing and hopping from branch to branch. Timshel continued to grin as he reached for the slingshot in his pack. ... That night as Timshel enjoyed his crow-dinner, he once again watched the sun play fire against the canyon walls. The first stars began to come out and the shadows stretched and faded before him. Between the bushes, he could see a desert fox zig-zagging toward him. After it was about 15 feet close, it stopped and sat, waiting. Timshel looked down at his meal, then back up, raising his eyebrows. The fox tilted its head sideways. Timshel reached down, picked up a rough stone and chucked it. The fox casually side-stepped as the stone whizzed past. Then it sat back down, cocking its head again. Timshel sighed and gave a small smile as he threw the remains of his dinner to the animal. For a while he watched the fox tear into the remains of his dinner. Then he got up and looked for a more sheltered spot to spend the night.

[Timshel]

Character History Father & Mother Kryshen Name Rhana Benshira Race Eypharian 57 Age 50 Redstone Cliffs Birthplace Ahnatep 5' 11''Height 5' 8'' 165lbs Weight 140lbs In the tents when he was seven... “Should we be worried?” Rhana pulled a blanket over the boy, who gave a loud snort between his otherwise steady and oddly baritone snores. “I'm afraid so. He's only seven and already wheezes worse than big old Rahksha two tents over.” “You know what I mean. We're going to have to tell him soon.” Kryshen was laying on their bed, divided from his son's by a large, linen tapestry between the tent. He pulled it back to study his wife. It was late in the evening, and she had taken off her tunic to air the full set of her arms. His eyes scanned over the curve of her neck to her shoulders. It gave off a smooth, graceful glimmer in the candlelight. As his eyes moved down to follow her top-most arms, he smiled. In this light he could have sworn they were made of copper, fleckless and toned down to her hands-- which were deftly tucking in their son for the night. His eyes stopped abruptly at the other two arms hanging by her side. Those two were pale and lank. He looked away. “He probably already knows by now. Hasn't he ever asked why your eyes are brown?” “Yes, and I told him the truth. I'm not a Benshira. But that's not telling him, Krys.” “He's just a boy, Rhana” “Whatever he doesn't know conciously, he'll grow to feel from the other tents.” “Feel? They've accepted us, Rhana! It would be blasphemy to project ill-will toward us now.” “Yet they have before.” “That was different.” As Kryshen watched his wife, he noticed how deep the lines in her face had gotten. How leathery her cheeks had become. She never wore any makeup, obsessed over creams, or dyed her hair anymore. But then Kryshen noticed the bracelet around her left fore-arm. His gaze lingered there. “You know... I was arranged to be married once,” he said with a grin. Rhana threw up her hands. All of them. “But I knew she wasn't the one. In my gut, I knew. I was meant for something else, you know? Someone else. A different path.” Kryshen smirked at his wife. Rhana sighed and gave a small smile before blowing out the candle by her son's bedside. She passed through the tapestry and lay next to him on their bed, staring into his grey-blue eyes. She ran her hand through his shortly-cropped beard. “And just look at how easy our lives have been since,” she said.

[Timshel]

Language, Skills, Lores Language Fluent Language: Common Basic Language: Shiber Poor Language: Arumenic Skills Skill EXP Total Proficiency Wilderness Survival (Desert), Wilderness Survival (Plains) 15SP, +1 16 Novice Riding 15 SP 15 Novice Sling-Shot 10 RB, 0 SP 10 Novice Weapon: Gladius 5 SP 5 Novice Brawling 5 SP 5 Novice Land Navigation 10 SP 10 Novice Planning +1 1 Novice Observation +4, +1, +1, +5 11 Novice Socialization +5, +1, +3, +5 14 Novice Rhetoric +4 4 Novice Lores Lore of Yahebah Culture Lore of Ahnatep Culture Wilderness Survival: Building a fire in a crisp, damp environment Love of Drykas Knotting Planning: Making a list, Checking it twice Isedan: a Kelvic Isedan: clearly not happy with being in Endrykas Isedan: Hunted with Lukyc Endrykas: Constantly in Motion Taylani: Not Benshira, but Has the Eyes of One Taylani: Kidnapped from Syliras Knights of Syliras: Strict Peacekeepers Drykas: Word of Mouth is Better

[Timshel]

Possesions, Ledger, Threads Possessions -1 Set of Clothing -Ankle Length Tunic with Short Sleeves -Simple Undergarments -Long Cloak (Colorful) -Leather Boots -1 Waterskin -Sling -1 Backpack which contains: -Comb (Bone) -Brush (Bone) -Soap -Razor -Balanced Rations (1 Week’s Worth) -1 eating knife -Flint & Steel Heirloom: 1 Gladius from his mother. The steel is still good, but the edge has been dulled and dinged with age and hard use. (Flashback Coming). Housing Location: Endrykas House: 1 large tent (4 person), large tarp, 100 ft of rope, flint & steel, lantern, 2 torches, bedroll, blanket, fishing tackle & hooks, an Eyktolian Desertbred named Jasmeet, a full set of tack, and a large set of saddlebags. Ledger Purchase Cost Total Starting +100 GM 100 GM Charcoal -5 CM 99 GM 9 SM 95 CM Sling -1 SM 99 GM 8 SM 95 CM Parchment -2 SM 99 GM 6 SM 95 CM Fall Living Expenses: Poor -45 GM 54 GM 6 SM 95 CM Winter Living Expenses: Poor -45 GM 9 GM 6 SM 95 CM Spring Living Expenses: No threads 0 GM 9 GM 6 SM 95 CM Summer Living Expenses: No threads 0GM 9 GM 6 SM 95 CM Thread List Date Thread Status 3-4 Spring, 498 Childhood: Part 1 Ongoing 63rd, Summer 511 If the dust settles Ongoing 13th, Fall 511 Flashback: Hurricane Sandy Ongoing 22nd, Fall 513 Pavi Smavi (with Taylani) Graded 32nd, Fall 513 A hunting we will go Done 33rd, Fall 513 Hello Again Graded 40th, Fall 513 Tack and girdles are for Turtles Graded 89nth, Fall 513 Seeking what was lost Graded 91st, Fall 513 [Autumnrun pavilion] The truth is out! (Timshel) Graded

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[Timshel]

Non-Player Characters Partner- Isya Versod Gender | Female Race | Drykas Born | Spring, 489 Webbing | 15 Riding | 15 Bow | 10 Hunting | 10 Isya was born in Riverfall. Her parents were merchants who got sick during one of their Spring caravan trips to Endrykas. Despite making the trip, they were bedridden and unable to travel for months upon their arrival. Isya was 5 at that point, and sick as well. On the fifth month, her parents died. If you asked her, Isya would tell you she doesn't remember much from that time. To her, the Versod pavillion has always been her family. It was they, the Versod pavilion of the Amethyst clan, who took her in. Their family had endured a few losses at that time as well, and so she became a welcome adopted-daughter. Kyllin, blessed with the Gnosis of Rak'keli and his own knowledge of Medicine, nursed her back to health after her parents died, while Terryl, his son and 14 at the time, looked after her as well. They grew up together as friends. Isya's Husband- Terryl Versod Gender | Male Race | Drykas Born | Spring, 480 Webbing | 26 Medicine | 24 Years later, Terryl was a warrior, a decent healer in his own right, and the runner up to be Ankal after his cousin Tyrrin- despite Tyrrin's eldest son coming of age. Terryl had already married his first wife, Tera, and together they had three beautiful children. Tyra, Mark, and Ishmur. They were happy. Tera was constantly pushing potential suitors onto Tyra, Mark was well on his way to joining The Watch, and Ishmur had just bonded with his strider. But in 512 AV Mark died in a scouting accident, sending a shock through the family. Ishmur, too young to understand at the time, simply watched while his parents grieved. Terryl focused on learning the web while Tyra resolved to join The Watch in Mark's place. Tera catered to Ishmur's academic lessons, insisting that weapon training can wait until he's older. She also rebuked any discussion for more children. Thus Terryl married Isya. But even after two years, they were unable to conceive any children. This was quite a sore subject up until a hunting injury gouged Terryl's left leg. He and his family managed to treat the leg well enough to prevent infection, but he was no longer the limber, young-man he once was. The duties of Ankal are well beyond Terryl's abilities now that he can't defend the position. The leg is lame, and he's to use a cane even when walking among the pavillion. Both his wives find him ignoring them, spending most of his time in the expanse of the web. Alone, Isya has now turned her sights to being useful in other ways. She is savvy and constantly thinking about how to make the poor Versod pavilion some money, and it's in just this part of her life that she meets... Timshel.