Shiloh Walker

[Shiloh Walker]

Shiloh Walker Appearance Race: Human Gender: Male Age: 18 Birthday: 55th day of Spring, 495 A.V. Birthplace: Alvadas Appearance: Height - Five feet and nine inches Weight - 160 pounds Build - Athletic Hair color - dark brown Eye color - grey green Skin tone - tanned peach On a typical day, Shiloh wears a tunic and breeches with plain leather boots. The relatively mild weather of Alvadas allows him to walk about without worrying too much about the nip of cold, though on occasion he'll carry with him a cloak to better guard against whatever weather might blight him. A carefree and curious air surrounds him from the bounce of his gait to the wide-eyed admiration for the unknown. Character Concept Shiloh's whimsical tastes that flit from one eccentricity to the next make him a happy resident of the city of Alvadas. His attention rarely ever stays fixated on one thing for very long, which has proven to be both a blessing and a curse over the course of his life. Not without some sense, Shiloh tends to have a knack for leaving before a situation gets out of hand, though when he must, he relies on his lithe and agile nature rather than his more sluggish wit. While not unintelligent, Shiloh lacks the higher understanding common among the intellectual, thus he tends to fall back upon jokes and jests that hint at wisdom rather than coming out with it forthright. A fascination for anything outside his immediate interests have pulled and pushed Shiloh into pursuing just about anything that catches his eye, be it sword dancing, cooking, or arithmetic, little thought is given before he throws himself wholeheartedly into a subject before forsaking it for the next exciting thing that crosses his path. Of all the things he's found to occupy his time with, acrobatics has suited him the most, which he practices and employs more often than anything else he's learned or tried to learn. Over all, he views himself as a leaf blown by the winds of time, drifting in ever-erratic patterns to an inevitable rest upon the ground. Fatalistic, but in the most optimistic sense, Shiloh blissfully travels through life living firmly in the present. Character History Abandoned at the Ornery Orphanage, Shiloh was adopted at age six by the prostitute Mildred. After living fairly happily for a solid nine years after that, Mildred passed away, leaving Shiloh the house and a fatalistic outlook on life. In Depth : Shiloh's birth was an uneventful sort of thing. His mother, not particularly attached to the idea of becoming just that: a mother, found the idea of leaving her child in the able and caring hands of one Mrs. Holt, to be the best option for both her and that squirming creature that had been brought into her life through unfortunate circumstances. Tried and true, Holt offered Shiloh the exact same treatment she gave the rest of the angles fortunate to find themselves placed into her tender and loving care. Shiloh was the sort of child who couldn't quite grasp the abstract construct that were "rules". Within the first few years of his life, Shiloh became very well acquainted with Mrs. Holt's constant companion: the Switchstick. It was a very one-sided sort of relationship that usually consisted of Shiloh failing to do what was requested and being aptly rewarded with the corrective lash of the Switchstick's ever-loving embraces. He was not a particularly bad or ill-behaved child, merely the victim of foolishness handed him the moment Lhex had given him his new body, an inevitable, unavoidable shame, really. In her never-ending wisdom and charity, Mrs. Holt did everything in her power to cleanse poor Shiloh of his whimsical caprice when she was able, which was somewhere between rarely and moderately as she was a firm believer of lovingly raising each child equally. When not under the benevolent shadow of the orphanage's matron, Shiloh found himself regularly alone to contemplate his own flawed nature. The other children found him to be a dangerous companion, often suffering for his foolishness merely by proximity. Thus, Shiloh sought companionship in his own mind, animating the plethora of toys and dolls with the fuel of is imagination and childish fantasy. The greatest of these comrades was the one-eyed doll, Beatrice. She became a confidant, the most trustworthy of Shiloh's band of silent companions, to which he would happily chat with for bells upon end, blissfully ignorant of the world around him. She was, in essence, the physical representation of his solace, a sturdy base upon which he could focus not only his woes but his hopes as well. Having no one else to share his ideas and thoughts with, Shiloh's habit of conversing with Beatrice grew more and more, to the point where he could hear her responses and contemplate her own musings in reply to his own. As he continued to grow and learn under the careful instruction of Mrs. Holt, children would come and go in a steady trickle. Some would be adopted by fat men and skinny women, some by skinny men and fat women. Others would find homes with two men, two women, one man, one woman, but never once did any man or woman find themselves taking home the little brown haired boy, absentmindedly clutching the soot stained arm of a particularly devitalized doll. He heard words such as "unnerving" and "unsettling" as men and women gazed down upon his dreamy, dirty face with disgruntled frowns and uncomfortable grimaces. They were correct in their opinions, of course. Shiloh had been cursed with the misfortune to be as he was, and as Mrs. Holt had discovered and so courteously shared with him, no amount of correction to change what he was fated to be: himself. When the first child disappeared, Shiloh barely even took notice. The other children whispered about it, the youngest the most concerned while the elder children hushed and shushed incessantly. Shiloh only became aware of the situation when Mrs. Holt allowed him an extra dance with the Switchstick, reminding him that it was rude to stick his nose into the affairs of others when it was not asked for. The others learned quickly as well, and together they remained silent and still when their numbers dwindled and swelled, quiet observers unconnected to the events around them. Shiloh's final day under the roof of the Ornery Orphanage and matronly care of Mrs. Holt was the last day of spring, seven years after having arrived. It was much the same sort of day as any before it: early in the morning, Shiloh had had an audience with the Switchstick after having dropped and broken a bowl that held within it the carefully prepared breakfast Mrs. Holt had spent so much time creating for them; after which he spent a total of three bells in solitary confinement to contemplate the error of his clumsiness (two and three quarters of which he happily chatted with Beatrice regarding the state of the local ant's economy); another consultation with the Switchstick after having spilled the chamber pot in the upstairs water closet, followed by several bells spent cleaning up with two other children who had been unfortunate enough to be around him when his worthlessness struck again; finally, the children were assembled in the playroom, dressed for the occasion, while the prospective parents were brought in. It was then that the day evolved from ordinary and mundane to one of the most important changes in Shiloh's short life. Her name was Mildred, a loathsome name - or so she said-, and she smelled of strawberries and honey with a touch of sweat and fatigue. From the moment she entered the room, her focus was placed upon and never swayed from the child in the back corner of the room, chatting quietly with his mangled doll. She strode right over to him, her heels clicking against the floor with all the implication of some unstoppable force of nature. When she spoke, her voice was a mix between a soothing coo and a business-like timbre, "Dear child, what is your name?" For a moment, Shiloh had stared back at the woman's pearly smile, framed by the smooth, gentle curve of her face that housed her bright, green eyes that seemed filled with some humanity he'd never before experienced. Mrs. Holt moved to answer, but the woman stopped her, a pleasant though forceful, "I'd like him to answer, if you would." It was then Shiloh's foolish nature forced its way through. His name was given, along with Beatrice's as he held her up for the woman's inspection. Never in his life had anyone been so pleased with something he did, and it sparked the strange, bubbly sensation of pride deep within him that had been suppressed for so long. It took only a handful more chimes before the austere outline of the orphanage faded behind him as he and Mildred made their way through the gates and towards his new home. Life with Mildred was much different than it had been with Mrs. Holt. For one, his new Mildred (as she refused the title of "mother") did not carry with her a switch stick. In fact, Mildred never once laid a hand upon him, either endearing or in punishment, save for a guiding hand firmly squeezed around his own. Having struggled for so long to follow the moral rulings of Mrs. Holt, Mildred's complete lack of regulations was a hedonistic paradise for Shiloh. In her eyes, he could do no wrong, nor was there any wrong he was discouraged to commit. She sat with him, each night, to discuss whatever fleeting thought crossed either of their minds. She consulted with him over the most trivial of decisions: what clothes did he prefer, what food should they have for supper, when would he like to visit the Garden. She took him on adventure after adventure, tugging him along the ever changing maze of the Garden, laughing at his messy eating habits while they picknicked, and fussing over his scrapes and bruises when he stumbled or fell. Of course, she had to support them and could not always stay home with him. When she was out and about, Shiloh was left home, content to sit and play with Beatrice until her return. So continued their lives together until the third year since Shiloh's adoption. Upon his tenth year of life, Mildred considered Shiloh responsible enough to be given a key to their home, allowing him to play in the streets of Alvadas when she could not attend him. This new freedom was completely unwarranted and, for several seasons, was far too much for Shiloh to fully grasp. It was not until Mildred explained he could go anywhere, do anything, as long as he returned home before the twentieth bell, listing off an extensive list of possibilities, which she wrote down for him to consider. After that, Alvadas became his playground, its people his toys. He spent every waking moment traipsing the city's streets and alleys, busying himself whatever novelty caught his eye. His curiosity bloomed, landing itself on par with his whimsy. Outings with Mildred continued, but they had become more and more far and in between, as Mildred herself started to become more distant, tired. Nine years after his adoption, Mildred had almost stopped coming home at all. Shiloh's scatterbrained nature made keeping jobs a difficult task, but he tried nonetheless as he soon realized their income to be severely lacking. Mildred would return perhaps once every twelve days, each time appearing more and more bedraggled, fatigued, and lifeless. She no longer spend hours in the evening laughing and chatting, instead she would stumble into her room and sleep for days upon end. When he could, Shiloh would do his best to tend to her, but rarely did their paths ever cross long enough for him to do anything of importance for her. Things continued on in a similar fashion for a year until Mildred just stopped coming back altogether. The next most important event in Shiloh's life happened upon the twelfth day of spring of his sixteenth year of life. A man had requested Shiloh's services: delivering a package to one of the pleasure houses scattered throughout the city. Upon entering the establishment, he was met with the lifeless body of Mildred being dragged out through the back entrance. When he timorously inquired what had happened, the response was a haunting reminder of his past. "Whores all meet this end eventually, it's a fate they've sold themselves into, y'know." Unable to do anything, Shiloh had watched the men stagger off out of sight, taking with them the last chance he'd ever see Mildred again. Fate, the inescapable force that flowed through each individual's life until their time came to a close, was forever cemented in Shiloh's mind. Some knew their fates, while others avoided it. Some hid from it, some ran, some fought it. Mildred had fought against hers. As if his personal revelation had been a prerequisite, Shiloh found Mildred's diary that night. As he poured over the pages, Mildred's hidden life became plain to him. She had adopted him out of defiance of fate. A fortune teller had assured her she could never have a child, so she had gone and gotten one for her self. She'd written how very impressive he was, how great and high her hopes were for him. In order for him to attain anything he wanted, Mildred strove to make life as comfortable and uplifting for him as possible. She took on more jobs, worked longer hours, pushing herself to the limit all for his own sake, until she couldn't continue. Her entries began fading, fewer and fewer, until the final entry, scribbled with all the bitterness of the defeated sat dead in the middle of the pages. "I surrender." In all his life, Shiloh had only ever been dedicated to two things: Beatrice and Mildred. She'd rarely ever forced her own thoughts or opinions upon him, choosing instead to share and discuss a myriad of viewpoints with as much objectivity as she could muster. Never once had she ever told him what to believe. Thus, the two words at the end of her journal sealed Shiloh's view upon life. He was destined, fated to live out the life before him. No more, no less. He too would surrender to the whims of Lhex, surrender to the never ending tide of Tanroa. It was then a peace descended over him, a strange feeling of well-being in knowing there was no honor in the fight, only the inevitable finish of the end. He vowed to live each day as his last, taking in all the immense beauty and wonder of the world around him until it finally claimed him in whatever way it had in store for him. From that day to the present, Shiloh continues to drift form job to job, happily flitting from this to that with little thought to the trajectory of his life. Language Fluent Language: Common Skills Skill EXP Total Proficiency Instrument: Flute 5 SP 5 Novice Cooking 5 SP 5 Novice Dancing 5 SP 5 Novice Acrobatics 15 RB + 10 SP 25 Novice Juggling 5 SP 5 Novice Poetry 5 SP 5 Novice Painting 5 SP 5 Novice Singing 5 SP 5 Novice Weapon: Dagger 5 SP # Novice Lores Lore of Alvadas Location Changing Basics of Bartering Possessions 1 Set of Clothing (Very Colorful) -Linen Shirt -Linen Pants -Linen Undergarments -Linen Cloak -Simple Boots 1 Waterskin 1 Backpack which contains: -Comb (wood) -Brush (wood) -Soap -Balanced Rations (1 Week's worth) -1 eating knife -Flint & Steel 100 Gold Mizas Heirloom: Beatrice the Doll Housing Location: Alvadas House: By default the house will cost 500 GM and be the default measurements of 20x20ft. The house, also comes with a key which acts as a sort of compass that tugs the possessor of the key in the direction of the house which the key belongs to (It would be best described as two magnets attracting each other). The house includes a hearth, bunk, chest, chair, and table. Ledger Purchase Cost Total Starting +100 GM 100 GM Thread List Link your current & past threads here!