Post by Max452 on Dec 6, 2011 23:33:24 GMT -5
Your username: Max452
Character's name: Dastan
Character's age: 24
Character's attitude: Patient, thoughtful, calculative, and desires peace. He believes that peace is better found through a tyrant than democracy. Desires order and structure. He's very organized. Perhaps he suffers from OCD behaviour...
Character's Race: Human
Character's appearance:
Character's allegiance: (Empire, Varden, Neutral, Ismalia). Empire
Weapons: Two short swords that are placed on his back.
Other Info: Defected from the Varden.
History: (At least 10 sentences.) Dastan was born in Surda and grew up in the Haddarac Deseret in a Sand tribe, valuing water more than jewels. As he grew up, Dastan was always involved in the Varden, as his parents were both warriors fighting for freedom and even became one himself. Skilled in the art of dual swordsmanship and close combat, Dastan rose within the ranks. As time progressed however, he saw too much disorder and quarrels within the Varden, disillusioning himself of peace through democracy. He deserted the Varden, hoping to find a better way to find peace within the Empire. He know places his hopes in Galbatorix, knowing that under his reign the people had at least had some peace before the Varden formed. Pledging himself to the King, Dastan now wishes to end the war as quick as possible so less lives would be wasted.
Role Play Sample: (At least 10 good sentences.)
Twirling the hilt of his sword upon the desert sand, Dastan sat upon a dried stump. His horse neighed momentarily as he then drooped its neck down for a large draught of water. Staring at the borders that lined toward Surda, Dastan calculated the position of the Varden's forces. His attention turn toward the sand beneath his blade. It swiveled to the right and then to the left. Dastan narrowed his eyes. "Sand storm!" He hissed and quickly drew out a lightweight tent. Quickly building it, Dastan forced the head of the horse inside the tent, making it lie on its side. Making himself as comfortable as possible, the young warrior waited until the storm was over. "Like water, the sand cleanses the earth..." He muttered an old saying his father would say to him. He tsked, regretting that he reemerged old memories. "Fools." He wrapped his cloak around him, waiting for the storm to end.
Character's name: Dastan
Character's age: 24
Character's attitude: Patient, thoughtful, calculative, and desires peace. He believes that peace is better found through a tyrant than democracy. Desires order and structure. He's very organized. Perhaps he suffers from OCD behaviour...
Character's Race: Human
Character's appearance:
Character's allegiance: (Empire, Varden, Neutral, Ismalia). Empire
Weapons: Two short swords that are placed on his back.
Other Info: Defected from the Varden.
History: (At least 10 sentences.) Dastan was born in Surda and grew up in the Haddarac Deseret in a Sand tribe, valuing water more than jewels. As he grew up, Dastan was always involved in the Varden, as his parents were both warriors fighting for freedom and even became one himself. Skilled in the art of dual swordsmanship and close combat, Dastan rose within the ranks. As time progressed however, he saw too much disorder and quarrels within the Varden, disillusioning himself of peace through democracy. He deserted the Varden, hoping to find a better way to find peace within the Empire. He know places his hopes in Galbatorix, knowing that under his reign the people had at least had some peace before the Varden formed. Pledging himself to the King, Dastan now wishes to end the war as quick as possible so less lives would be wasted.
Role Play Sample: (At least 10 good sentences.)
Twirling the hilt of his sword upon the desert sand, Dastan sat upon a dried stump. His horse neighed momentarily as he then drooped its neck down for a large draught of water. Staring at the borders that lined toward Surda, Dastan calculated the position of the Varden's forces. His attention turn toward the sand beneath his blade. It swiveled to the right and then to the left. Dastan narrowed his eyes. "Sand storm!" He hissed and quickly drew out a lightweight tent. Quickly building it, Dastan forced the head of the horse inside the tent, making it lie on its side. Making himself as comfortable as possible, the young warrior waited until the storm was over. "Like water, the sand cleanses the earth..." He muttered an old saying his father would say to him. He tsked, regretting that he reemerged old memories. "Fools." He wrapped his cloak around him, waiting for the storm to end.
