Kerrigore

[Kerrigore]

Character Name Appearance Race: Human Gender: Male Age: 23 Birthday: 16th, Spring, 490 Birthplace: Syliras Appearance: Standing at slightly under average, with slightly tanned skin from working under the sun. He had broad shoulders, good posture, and an air of confidence making him seem taller than he was. He wore a simple white tunic made of flax, and dark green trousers with a cord of rope as a belt. His boots made of dark brown leather now worn to a pale color. His fingers were covered in minute scars from labor, and practice. He had high cheek bones and a square jaw, his face covered in unshaven stubble. Except for A blotch of melted skin that ran from his lower left cheek and spilt onto his neck and stopped at his collar bone. His eyes were unique in the fact that one's hue was blue and the other green, a trait that was passed down from mother to son. There seemed to be constant bags under his eyes from sleep deprivation. He had short brown hair which was slicked back and kept tidy. Character Concept An almost one track minded man, he grew up on the move and has trouble staying in one place too long. Though he is still young a hard life has caused him to be quite serious and at times cold, which pushes those who try to get close away. He has a strong drive which causes him to study and train into the wee hours of the morning. Though he does not enjoy reading, he can do so, and will to further his education and strength. He is slow to trust and tends to be suspicious of new people. If given the time he can become a great friend or a strong ally. Above all else he values loyalty, strength, and drive. And despises those who, waste their time. For him every minute not bettering ones self is a moment that can never be taken back. Though he is brave he has a simple fear, one which all rational people have, and that is death. Character History Early Age - From the time he was born, his father moved him from camp to camp. Being the child of a mercenary was a tough life. He lived with some of the toughest and vilest men that had ever walked the land. Every time his father left could have been the last time he saw the man. Though it would have made little difference. While young it was made perfectly clear he had to be strong. To cry was forbidden, and if caught he would receive the back of his fathers hand. From the time he could do chores he took on the burden as the camps "Squire" a nick name some of the men bestowed upon him. His daily tasks ranged from gathering fire wood, too hauling equipment. He helped cook and sharpen knives, blades, and other tools used for violence. Once he even had to help a impromptu medic pull out an arrow head which had been lodged in a man's thigh. His living conditions had been poor, the camps they lived in had always been dirty. It wasn't uncommon for some one to contract a disease, and had to be left behind or dropped off at a village only to return later. There were few times he had made his father figure proud, those were the moments that caused him strive to better himself constantly. He had planned on following in his dads foot steps. So he began to train, strengthening his body and his mind. He exercised daily and made it his duty to watch the wounded come back, the mercy killings among other things. Some would say he didn't have much of a child hood but he would disagree. With out his tough upbringing he would have died years before. The Final Job - He had grown up strong, his muscles had hardened and his senses fine tuned. He had finally been allowed to accompany the party on missions and jobs. He'd killed his fair share and wounded more. He had no feelings towards those he killed, they never haunted his dreams as they do some men. He went along with his father, Richer, and several other men to meet a contact. He was a crotchety old man one who was thin and worn out. Though he claimed to be quite younger than he looked it made Kerrigore wonder what had happened to the man to leave him twisted so. He had a simple request, and it was to slay a hermit in the Spires. There was promise of gold, as per usual the first part of the contract was paid up front. With that they left, and upon their departure the man warned with a simple message. "If you wish to see the day when you grow fat and old, you should make sure that you forget not a soul who travels with you, the one you're tasked with killing has little time for the likes of you." And like that they left. Their pride of men traversing the lands quickly and efficiently. They made their way through the forest, and like that the easy part was over. They broke into units, he was with the rest of the recruits. Young men who wished to prove them selves, their unit the largest. His captain, was a simple man, not much for leading and let alone making vital decisions. It was this man who stumbled upon the hermit. Sitting in a clearing reading from a dusty tomb, he didn't look like the man from whom they got their original contract. he was thicker and slightly plump. He wore a simple hand woven garment, upon his head was a small circular cap, one that looked quite unusual. He had long black hair with speckles of silver and a bulbous nose. His whole character seemed comical. And at first sight his captain sprinted full out, the ringing of chain mail, and the drawing of a short sword drew his attention. He let out a massive howl, and everyone who was near ran for the clearing. Kerrigore was still a ways from the target but he was running along side the man whom he considered his only close friend. As they ran the hermit was up on his feet he waved his hand in a mighty arch. at first he didn't see it but after the man had waved his hand the air seemed tainted with an odd hue, it was in that moment that the air became incredibly hot, and it burst into an flames, everyone who was within a ten meter radius was engulfed in a searing hot fire their screams could be heard through the still air. Everyone slowed to a hault, looking on in awe. His eyes drifted to his friend, his face painted with terror, he looked back to the man, and he was once again moving his hands but unlike the last time, his fat body began to move quickly he had a branch of wood in his hand and he crossed the clearing in a mater of seconds dispatching the first man. By then everyone regained their senses and began the charge again. His company had been known to never give up the fight. They charged but the wizard was flinging men left and right. The branch exploded in wooden particles across the face of a warrior, his skull caving in. He plucked the dead mans sword and began the onslaught. Left and right people fell, an soon he had a decent sized circle around him, his hand flung outward and globs of gell fell into the crowd. One such blob fell onto him, splashing his cheek and neck. before he could try and get the substance off everything was consumed into a fiery hell he fell onto the ground screaming, his fingers slapping the flames from his body. Finally he realized what he had to do so he rubbed the dirt into the wound suffocating the flames. The pain was nothing like he'd ever felt. he sputtered small amount of foam spilling from the corners of his mouth. As he touched the burnt skin, it slid off and onto his fingers clinging desperately to his digits. He sputtered slightly at the sight of the molten skin, his stomach turned as he looked over to find his friend. The man that lay next to him wasn't the one he had known before him. The glob had hit him square in the face, he wasn't moving or crying. The fire had consumed his entire head and was lighting part of his shirt on fire. He rose to one arm, and collapsed, his arm was black and blue it was broken. he'd forgotten about the man who was mercilessly killing those who continued to fight. His only concern was to save his friend. He crawled with his good arm to the man. Using his own shirt to try and smother the flames. And it hit him. it was empty only screams of the wounded were echoing through the woods. The hermit wasn't there anymore. Some survivors were getting to their feet and limping away. He looked back to his friend only to find a face stripped of flesh, and its main features. The fire had exploded one of his eyes, the other was sealed shut from the skin on his brow. His nose had been eaten away by the heat, his upper lip was partially missing exposing charred teeth. He was dead, and it had been a gruesome death. He sat back, trying to catch his breath, he could feel hysteria creeping up. He fought back the tears, as he looked for the others he knew. And he found most of them, on the ground, covered in blood, smoldering. All dead. He found his father figure laying kneeling on the ground, and hunched over. He could see the glistening of the blade protruding from his back. He was still, also dead. He carefully pushed his father over, and removed the man's own weapon from his chest. Everything seemed too real for him. and he became ill, he fell onto his knees and retched. It was sometime until he was well enough to travel. His arm was crushed and in a make shift sling while his burns were crudely bandaged. If he didn't get to civilization he would die. He had to be strong, he needed to be strong so he could go on living to get even stronger more skilled, to avenge his make shift family. Saved- He'd been stumbling for at least a day. His head pounded and the pain from his injuries made him feel ill, but he had nothing left to give. He kept moving trying to stay strong. Thats all he had now was his own strength. It had to be enough for him to keep moving. He came to the edge of a small residence. A little house with a garden, its crops were taller than the fence that guarded it. He made it past the gate and fell into the well kept yard. And his vision went black. He awoke sometime later on a make shift bed, his arm had been re-slung and his bandages changed, his wound cleaned. He was in immense pain. He was in a lean too out side of the cottage he'd stumbled too. He could hardly move. Then saw a man working inside of the garden, a plump man, wearing simple garments and an odd hat. At first he was afraid, and attempted to escape but something kept him from leaving his quarters. So he stayed still and observed him, pretending to sleep when he walked by or looked over. His eyes were blood shot, and his body quivered slightly. He kept whispering to himself as he religiously worked on the plants in-front of him. Soon his broken body took its toll once more and he drifted into a dream world. He awoke sometime later, it was dark out and a slight drizzle came down from the heavens. He could hear the snoring through the opened window. When he checked the entrance to the lean to he got the same results as he did when he first woke. It was guarded by an invisible barrier. Then Morning came and he awoke to some strips of dried meat, using his left hand he fed himself slowly and carefully. This routine went on for days, he'd eat, sleep and wake up with new bandages, his cage had been increased so that it now included a small space where he could crawl out and use the rest room, the roof of the barrier was slightly lower than he was tall, causing him to awkwardly hunch over when standing. This routine went of for sometime, and one day he was freed there was no barrier just emptiness. At first he didn't realize that there wasn't a shield, after exploring the garden and visiting the rabbits he'd been watching the man feed he waited patiently for the fat man to come out side. Eventually when he did come out side. They ended up talking for a good part of the day. The man explained that he was a wizard who usually found that his only company with himself. Also he learned why the other one had wanted him dead. They had had a rivalry when they were younger and every so often a band of mercenaries would come along and try to fight him, the men usually ended up dead or retreating. And in a few special cases such as Kerrigore he would help the wounded either into the after life or back to health. After their long talk he finally asked it he could be taught, he asked if he could learn to become strong like himself. And it took some convincing, about three days worth and it was under one condition that he never use magic for harm but for furthering his knowledge and defending himself. Schooling- Over the course of several months. He was initiated into Reimency, The flux, and hypnotism. After awhile of learning, and training his body felt at peace, possibly the first time in his life. But something else nagged at the back of his mind, the fact that this man had killed his adopted family and his father yet he was okay with learning from him. Had he been using Hypnotism on him ever so slightly since he had been there? He ignored the idea, pushing it from his mind. As the year wore on the feeling that he was under the control of the wizard kept weighing on the back of his mind. One night while the man slept he walked out the gate, taking with him a back pack with some basic essentials and the clothes on his back. He headed out in the direction that he thought maybe Syliras was in. Language Fluent Language: Common Poor Language: Nader-canoch Skills Skill EXP Total Proficiency Reimanacy 10 SP # Novice The Flux 10 SP # Novice Hypnotism 10 SP # Novice Brawling 5 SP # Novice Wilderness survival 10 SP # Novice Cooking 5 SP # Novice Possessions 1 Set of Clothing - White Flaxen Shirt - Dark green trousers -Simple Undergarments -Leather duster with hood. -Worn leather boots. 1 Water skin 1 Backpack which contains: -Comb (Wood) -Brush (Wood) -Soap -Razor -Balanced Rations (1 Week's worth) -1 eating knife -Flint & Steel - 3 ink viles - 2 blank books - 2 quills - 10 candles - 1 practice dummy 40 Gold Mizas, 99 silver mizas, 80 copper mizas Heirloom:Father's Gladius [/b] - Max. 50gm worth) Housing Location: Sunberth, within the Sun's Birth's territory House: A small hovel, made of wood. Built in a circular shape, it has a single room with a hearth in the center and a makeshift chimney sprouting out of the top of the house. It has a solid wooden door with several systems allowing it to bar from the inside, and a single window next to the door. Though due to frequent riots the window has two sets of shutters the out side one, is thin and only there for looks while the inside is made of a heavy wood and bolted down with thick iron. On the inside of the house there is a single twin bed, made of straw and a few rough blankets. On ether side there are small book shelves which are mostly empty and possibly made from a table and chair. A small dresser/chest which is on the opposite side of the room from the bed, Finally there is a Wash bin in the last free area against the wall. The floor is made of old wood which has seen many years under the feet of humans. Ledger Purchase Cost Total Starting +100 GM 100 GM Candles 10 10 CM 99GM, 99SM, 90CM Blank Book 2 6GM 93 GM, 99SM, 90 CM Ink Vile 3 3GM 90 GM, 99SM, 90 CM Practice Dummy (Advanced) 1 50GM 40 GM, 99SM, 90 CM Quills 2 10 CM 40 GM, 99SM, 80 CM Washbin 2 GM 38 GM, 99SM, 80 CM Thread List

[Kerrigore]

Sorry for the length, I had some questions about it but I couldn't get an answer

[Crosspatch]

Hello there!

I'm Crosspatch, one of the friendly CS Liaisons on Mizahar! I've been looking over your Character Sheet, and I have noticed some minor issues that need to be resolved and fixed. Sadly these need to be done before you can continue roleplaying, so let's take a look at them shall we?

• You are missing your racial bonus. As a human your racial bonus is +15 in an one skill.
• You are missing your two starting lores. A lore is some form of general knowledge that the character has gained over their lifetime. Such as knowledge on a particular deity or knowing the layout of a particular city.
• Mizahar is a dangerous world. The cities that exist do so because a large number of people have huddled together and carved out that existence with blood and sweat. Anything outside of those cities is in danger of being destroyed by predators, monsters, bandits, slavers, and the land itself. Because of this, there really aren't any villages or small settlements or little huts with single wizards dotting the land. Please take this into consideration with your character's history.
• I am not sure as to the nature of the 'barrier' magic your character is experiencing in the scene in which he is recovering. If it is a form of shielding I must stress that shielding does not create dome barriers but wraps around the object it is tasked to shield.

Once these problems have been dealt with, drop me a PM and I'll remove this intervention and approve your CS for you. Also if you have any questions don't hesitate to ask and I'll do my best to answer!


Crosspatch