Post by Tismri on Sept 17, 2011 1:17:23 GMT -5
Your username: Jeriah/Tismri
Character's name: Dublin Stormfellow
Character's age: 25
Character's attitude: Dublin is a nice guy, overly sweet and sometimes shy. He carries a deep sorrow within him, but masks it extremely well. All he's really looking for in life is love to fill the emptiness in his heart.
Character's Race: 3/4 elf, 1/4 human
Character's appearance: Dublin has rather dark skin and shortish light brown hair that flows into wavy locks, making it look unkept. His eyes are a chocolate color. He wears a long black robe with blue accents and light leather boots.
Character's allegiance: Neutral. He agrees with the Varden's cause, but is unwilling to fight for them.
Weapons: Magic, primarily. His elven family were obviously all very strong magicians, and perhaps the humans were as well. He can wield swords, but his skill there is lacking. He is one of the greatest healers in the land, and can also wreak great destruction.
Other Info: His twin sister died five years ago, cursed by some evil creature while they were exploring an ancient ruin. Since then, he has been looking for any possible way he might be able to bring her back to life, of course to no avail.
History: Dublin and his sister Maya were born to an elf and a half-elf within Du Weldenvarden. His human granparents, though no longer alive, had been members of Nasuada's native tribe. This explains why Dublin is so dark-skinned, though still fairer than his closest human relations.
Dublin doesn't recall what happened to his parents; all he knows is that they died when he and Maya were still very young. His earliest memory is of the two of them being buried. With no other family, the two orphans grew to be independent, though they were extremely close with each other. When they reached a certain age, they went into studying. Dublin pursued knowledge in the arcane arts, learning all the fine points of magic use. Maya was the more combatant of the two of them and studied to be a spellsword. They both excelled in their choice studies.
One day they were exploring a ruin on the northern boarders of the forest, curious adventurers that they were. They stumbled upon an ancient artifact of some sort, which they decided they would take as a prize of their explorations. But after Maya reached for it, she instantly felt her strength and will fading from her, she slumped forward and released the object, and Dublin kicked it far away, but it was too late; the curse was already taking effect. Dublin carried her far away and used every healing spell he could think of, desperately trying to save his dearest sister. But he could do nothing; after three days of suffering, she died.
Upon Maya's death, Dublin felt an emptiness in his heart. Sorrow no human should ever know began to haunt him. He still has constant nightmares of her death, along with a probably pointless hope that he could find a way to bring her back to life. He's been searching one lead after another, taking him far across the boundaries of Alagaesia, the Beors, Duweldenvarden, and even Ismalia. What he really wants, and probably needs, is someone else to fill the space left by the absence of his sister, but he is so busy pursuing his hopeless cause to realize this.
Role Play Sample:
Dublin shuddered, tossed, turned, and moaned through the night. The stars walked their unhindered path through the sky, gazing down in him like unsympathetic eyes. The moon climbed to its celestial peak and then began its decent.
"Dublin, help!" the weak cry came, along with the sound of something falling. He searched desperately for the source of the voice until he saw her, lying on the ground, unmoving.
"Maya!" he called, reaching his hand out. He tried to run to her, knowing that if he could just reach her, she could be saved. But the more he ran, the farther away she seemed. Then he felt something give away beneath his feet and he began falling, falling, tumbling head over heels into the dark depths below.
Dublin awoke, sweating and shaking, holding back a scream of terror. After lying for a few moments to calm himself down, he stood and dressed. The hardwood floors of the inn felt cold to his feet. As cold as the emptiness in his heart.
Character's name: Dublin Stormfellow
Character's age: 25
Character's attitude: Dublin is a nice guy, overly sweet and sometimes shy. He carries a deep sorrow within him, but masks it extremely well. All he's really looking for in life is love to fill the emptiness in his heart.
Character's Race: 3/4 elf, 1/4 human
Character's appearance: Dublin has rather dark skin and shortish light brown hair that flows into wavy locks, making it look unkept. His eyes are a chocolate color. He wears a long black robe with blue accents and light leather boots.
Character's allegiance: Neutral. He agrees with the Varden's cause, but is unwilling to fight for them.
Weapons: Magic, primarily. His elven family were obviously all very strong magicians, and perhaps the humans were as well. He can wield swords, but his skill there is lacking. He is one of the greatest healers in the land, and can also wreak great destruction.
Other Info: His twin sister died five years ago, cursed by some evil creature while they were exploring an ancient ruin. Since then, he has been looking for any possible way he might be able to bring her back to life, of course to no avail.
History: Dublin and his sister Maya were born to an elf and a half-elf within Du Weldenvarden. His human granparents, though no longer alive, had been members of Nasuada's native tribe. This explains why Dublin is so dark-skinned, though still fairer than his closest human relations.
Dublin doesn't recall what happened to his parents; all he knows is that they died when he and Maya were still very young. His earliest memory is of the two of them being buried. With no other family, the two orphans grew to be independent, though they were extremely close with each other. When they reached a certain age, they went into studying. Dublin pursued knowledge in the arcane arts, learning all the fine points of magic use. Maya was the more combatant of the two of them and studied to be a spellsword. They both excelled in their choice studies.
One day they were exploring a ruin on the northern boarders of the forest, curious adventurers that they were. They stumbled upon an ancient artifact of some sort, which they decided they would take as a prize of their explorations. But after Maya reached for it, she instantly felt her strength and will fading from her, she slumped forward and released the object, and Dublin kicked it far away, but it was too late; the curse was already taking effect. Dublin carried her far away and used every healing spell he could think of, desperately trying to save his dearest sister. But he could do nothing; after three days of suffering, she died.
Upon Maya's death, Dublin felt an emptiness in his heart. Sorrow no human should ever know began to haunt him. He still has constant nightmares of her death, along with a probably pointless hope that he could find a way to bring her back to life. He's been searching one lead after another, taking him far across the boundaries of Alagaesia, the Beors, Duweldenvarden, and even Ismalia. What he really wants, and probably needs, is someone else to fill the space left by the absence of his sister, but he is so busy pursuing his hopeless cause to realize this.
Role Play Sample:
Dublin shuddered, tossed, turned, and moaned through the night. The stars walked their unhindered path through the sky, gazing down in him like unsympathetic eyes. The moon climbed to its celestial peak and then began its decent.
"Dublin, help!" the weak cry came, along with the sound of something falling. He searched desperately for the source of the voice until he saw her, lying on the ground, unmoving.
"Maya!" he called, reaching his hand out. He tried to run to her, knowing that if he could just reach her, she could be saved. But the more he ran, the farther away she seemed. Then he felt something give away beneath his feet and he began falling, falling, tumbling head over heels into the dark depths below.
Dublin awoke, sweating and shaking, holding back a scream of terror. After lying for a few moments to calm himself down, he stood and dressed. The hardwood floors of the inn felt cold to his feet. As cold as the emptiness in his heart.
