Seyral Marthel

[Seyral]

Seyral 'Convict' Marthel Appearance Race: Human Gender: Male Age: 32 Birthday: 35th of Fall, 481 AV Birthplace: Sunberth Appearance: Shackled : Leashed : Character Concept Betrayed and enslaved; Branded and sold like cattle; Freedom lost and regained! Seyral had been through alot in his lifetime, that is for damn sure. But that is true for most citizens of Sunberth, in all fairness. Regardless, as a man who had worked hard with a straightened spine and soul, being sold out by his best friend and having taken everything from him...Was a tough pill to swallow! Betrayed: Once a fairly poor, but at least respectable, grocery shop owner that he had established and worked from the ground up; Spilling blood, sweat and tears along the way...But it was his and worth every drop spent! Everything changed for him, in every way, once his best childhood friend betrayed him and sold him off to Ravokian slavers like a slab of meat thrown to the hounds. Enlaved: The caravan of slavers were shrewd and knew who to contact and where to hide their 'stash' until they moved back out, Shackled and locked away from sunlight and eyesight, Seyral spent his dark days wondering why, why, why, why?! Branded: On the last day of the slavers' "shopping spree", the sack stenching of sweat and tears from previous 'cattle' caught, was removed. Gasping for fresh air and blinded by the sudden luminance of the lit firepit before him, he blinked and squinted to try and see through the light...Still dazed and with blurred eyesight, he never saw what was coming until it was too late. Without warning his shackled wrists got yanked forward and stretched out in junction when a fleshscorching heat hit his inner lower arm. He screamed, screamed his lungs out...For mercy, forgiveness, the aide of deities and demons, anyone or anything that could make the pain stop... Freedom: Before the break of dawn, after having spent the night in agony and sorrow from the branding and the whole predicament he unjustifiable found himself in, the slavers rounded up their livestock and drove them outside as a herd soon to be placed in their pens. Just as he boarded the caravan, blessed chaos and disarray happened all around him, the slavers have gotten themselves ambushed by one of Sunberth's main factions, The Night Eyes. Sparks of clashing metal, screams of wounded and silence of the dead; All around him, the defeaning scene was too much for him to handle and Seyral hid under one of the caravans, cowering and fearing for his life...Until it all ended and a cloaked figure bent forward, stretching out a hand speaking comforting and soothing words. Seyral eventually climbed out from between the large caroussel-wheels and tried to realize what just happened. After what seemed an eternity, it all sank in....He was about to thank the Night Eyes, until the cloaked man spoke first: "Thank you." It was then that he realized, he hadn't been saved...He had simply been used, again and again and again....Nobody treats him as a human, not in this city and not in this world...Everyone sees eachother as a tool to be used for their own good, this disgusting world....He would change it! Character History After having been 'rescued' ... It was time to get even and he wasn't about to let time or reasoning cool him off. The same moment he got his freedom back at the bloodied hands of the Night Eyes, he walked over to freshly tainted battlefield all around him and started scavenging, it didn't take him long to loot what he wanted...With a Gladius in his hand, broken shacklechains hanging from his wrist and the charred brand on his arm...He set out for blood. Without a clear mind he strode through the streets, everything around him was an immemorable haze, until he arrived at his shop. He could still see the scene before him clear as day up to this moment...His best friend, the man who had taken everything from him, was in his shop...Tending a customer with a big and friendly smile...It was hallucinant and insanely humorous to Seyral, in the disturbed and fatal way... Muscles twitching, teeth grinning bare and nostrils flaring high as he entered the shop. As if he was playing in a dark humor act, he played the part...He knocked on the open wooden door with the stubbed end of the Gladius' hilt. The customer turned, but his 'friend' simply shouted: "Come in, my door is open to all!" ....Your door, mate? The customer, unaware of the situation he found himself in, yet aware that this wasn't a meeting between 'mates', shuffled away from inbetween the buddies. Meanwhile Seyral's friend was frozen stiff, not even the breeze coming through the door seemed to move his clothes. The silence, the tension...The blade, they all pointed in one direction and it wasn't going to be a walk in the park. Seyral no longer needed an answer to his questions, to the million of question marks that ran through his mind all those nights locked away in the slavers' cellar. He no longer needed anything...Only blood. His friend's face turned, slowly, too slowly for Seyral who was already walking up to the counter and silently, casually even, moved the door upwards to pass through. He could see the fear, the tears and the breathless state of his friend...It made it all so much sweeter..Yet... From the moment he raised his hands as if he wanted to plead for mercy, From the moment Seyral raised his wristshackled hiltclenching fist...To the moment where everything around him was covered in bloodred stains and the brutally massacred body was drowning in its own bloodred pool...Seyral had never felt more sorrow coarsing through him as the tears didn't stop streaming over his face. He wasn't a murderer, but he sure as hell had become one. Ever since that day, a normal 'civilian' life was no longer an option. He sold his shop for 'an apple and an egg' before turning to a life of crime. Eventhough this was the path life had taken him on, he wasn't of the persuasion it had to be like that. The world didn't have to be like this, where it was dog eat dog and the kind got used and abused. Yet eventhough he felt like that, he still had to survive and he wasn't brave enough to change the world on his lonesome self. So for the time being, he was stuck in the negative spiral of crime, drugs and living as a thug. Language Fluent Language: Common Skills Skill EXP Total Proficiency Gladius 15 SP 15 Novice Larcency 25 SP 25 Novice Stealth 10 SP 10 Novice Brawling 15 RB 15 Novice Lores Helpful Lores: (Pick 2) Lore of Losing Faith in Mankind Lore of Wanting to Change the World Possessions 1 Set of Clothing -Simple Shirt -Simple Pants -Simple Undergarments -Simple Coat -Simple Boots 1 Waterskin 1 Backpack which contains: -Comb (Metal) -Brush (Metal) -Soap -Razor -Balanced Rations (1 Week’s Worth) -1 eating knife -Flint & Steel 100 Gold Mizas Heirloom: Gladius (Still from the day he regained his freedom) Housing Location: Sunberth House: Appartment (Sunset Quarters) Ledger Purchase Cost Total Starting +100 GM 100 GM Thread List Link your current & past threads here!