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  #1  
Old Jan 5th, 2022, 07:44 AM
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The Villagers

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  #2  
Old Jan 5th, 2022, 12:57 PM
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Retired Veteran Anya White Rose
You’ve had your fill of war. When you were a younger woman, you went campaigning far from home, fighting for lords and generals. Now you have settled in the village, ready for a quieter life. There are these kids around though, and someone has to teach them to look after themselves.
Character Name: Anya of the White Rose

Playbook: Retired veteran
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Description: With blonde hair, usually braided and put up, bright blue eyes that never cease to search for the next foe and a tight mouth, Anya is no beauty. 5'6" tall, 100 lbs, and with a slim, yet curvy figure she is clearly very fit and used to the outdoors from the lithe nature of her body and the sun-tanned skin. The cicatrice of scars that cover her give an indication to what she has done in the past. She invariably wears breehes and a fitted top, and workmanlike boots and will slip into armour at any opportunity. This is clearly that of a veteran being functional without any ornamentation, and covered with the small marks that show it has been repaired. Her Axe, Hakar, is similar. A brutal thing made for killing; and it seems perfect in her hands.

Personality: Anya is a guarded and close lipped person. She keeps herself to herself, tells no-one anything about how she is feeling and moves through life as if she is preparing for a battle. She is often alone: she likes to train hard, to sit quietly by the river and think of those she has lost and to enjoy the countryside.

She finds people annoying: their petty concerns do not seem worth concerning yourself with after the horrors she has seen and experienced. Having been raped when she was captured in the war, she holds no-one close and has avoided any form of romantic relationship since her return to the village. Anyone how tries to get inside her comfort zone is likely to be rebuffed physically if they will not take the verbal cues, and the nightmares she has at night mean she is always a little mean.

When she is working for her father, she is quiet and diligent; but she comes alive when she is training the militia or meeting with her friends from the Company. She becomes animated and forceful showing her ability to lead others.

She is not an easy person to know; but those around her notice that she is highly protective of everyone, particularly Katrin, and wants the best for them all. She knows what horror is and is keen for them to avoid it.

History: Anya Berryman was raised in the village. Her father, Peter, is one of the craftsmen who made the place work, and her mother, Leah, keeps home and makes sure that the local spinners provide him.with the thread he needs to weave into cloth. One of four, Anya joined the business as a child working the loom, cutting and twisting the threat into fine cloth. Her brother, Peter
Jr is 4 years older and her twin sisters, Lisette and Julia, 6 years younger. She was an empathetic child, and many came to talk to her as they went through their teens, finding her a good shoulder to cry on. She loved to make pretty new cloth designs and have them made up into dresses to wear to dances and was a popular girl who was expected to marry well.

6 years ago, she turned 18 and was sent by her father to live with his sister and learn some advanced Weaving techniques. Anya's aunt lives in a larger town about 50 miles away, and when war broke out against the wave of northern barbarians that invaded the Kingdom a year later, news arrived that pleased Peter and horrified Leah. Anya had enlisted in the Company of the White Rose.

The whole village listened out for news of the Company once they knew one of their own was in it. The first news was of a heavy defeat, with many of the Company killed, yet the news was that Anya lived, and had been promoted to Sergeant. The war continued and the Company won renown. Anya commanded Standard Guard Guard of the company becoming expert in the use of the Great Axe. In the final battle of the war, 3 years later, Anya distinguished herself by defeating the enemy champion in single combat and was again promoted to Lieutenant. The villagers imagined that she would remain in the Company but, to their surprise, the Company was disbanded and she returned home.

The woman who returned 2 years ago, strode back into the village at the end of a day with the mile-eating gait of the soldier. The Great Axe, Hakar, across her back, the blue tabard with a White Rose and the double bronze torc of her rank marked her as a professional, the lean body with scarred arms and the 1000 yard stare in her eyes as a veteran. She was welcomed as a hero, and then quietly left to herself. She returned to weaving, but every morning trained herself in preparation. She no longer wore dresses, she had an intensity that frightened people and she screamed at night. Her father is intensely proud of his daughter, the heroine, whilst her mother mourns the loss of her girl. She brought back the advanced weaving techniques she had left to learn meaning that the family business makes more cloth, more quickly and is making more money which pleases both parents.

At first, she stayed alone. But then she was visited by hard men and women who has served with her, and went to the tavern. The stories told on those occasions mean that the innkeep gives her drinks in exchange for stories of the war. Stories that have built the legend and her reputation. She serves in the militia as a Sergeant, training them as she once trained the Company and has shown the villagers she is someone who is as hard as nails. Not faster, not stronger but with a mental attitude that brooks no defiance. On one occasion, she was asked by Tanis to help him speaking with the local Lord, She was placed into various poses and used as a prop. Afterwards she sat with them both and told them tales of her war in the North. They spent a good evening talking and Tanis became someone she watched over. (+1 Wis)

She has become a mentor to many, who seek to learn her skills. She trains anyone who will pay her, but one youngster, Donal, is a special friend. When they entered the annual wrestling competition, they came to her for training. She knew that they were forced to do so against their will and took pity on them. She agreed to help with training. Despite all she could do, Donal lost but the two have remained friends and training partners, often seen sparring with their great weapons.

Anya holds dear an old map which she holds for the members of the White Rose. Taken from the body of the champion she slew in their final battle, it purports to show the location of a great treasure. The dream of the Company is to locate that treasure but there has been no opportunity to do so.

For now, she rises each day from a dream of an unknown horror, runs 10 miles in her armour and carrying her kit, works all day at the loom, then goes to the practice yard to train and spar. She watches and prepares. Something is coming. Something bad!


Final Results
STR: (8+2+1)11
DEX: (8+2+0)10
CON: (10+1+1)12
INT: (10+1)11
WIS: (8+2+1)11
CHA: (8+1+2+2+1)14 (+1)

Hit Dice: d10
Initiative Bonus: +3
Armor: Any
Skills: Command, Tactics, Weaving
Knacks: Defensive Fighter (+1AC)
Weapon Specialization: Great Axe (+1 to hit, +2 damage)
Traits:Combat Expertise
Equipment:
  • Dagger
  • Peasant's Clothing
  • an old military tabard
  • Great Axe (Hakar)
  • leathers (+2 AC)
  • 18 silvers
  • an old treasure map

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Last edited by DebiRedHair; Jan 10th, 2022 at 08:39 AM.
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  #3  
Old Jan 5th, 2022, 04:11 PM
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Anders, Assistant Beast Keeper
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Anders, Assistant Beast Keeper

GROWING UP: My upbringing wasn't all that strange until I was 12. My mother died when I was young, but my dad taught me to hunt and fish, made me do chores, and I loved him deeply. For fun, we went scouting with the hunters and when the trip was short and the danger level low, he would bring me along. Everyone came to him with their problems, and their kids came to me. I saw him help everyone and never ask for favors in return, he was a good man and I tried my best to copy him.

But this world is a dark, and often cruel place, especially to good men, and he was killed on one of his trips where I was not invited along, leaving me an orphan. How he was killed, and by what, no one would ever tell me. That was my first intimation that there were dark secrets outside the village, secrets that would threaten us all.

DESCRIPTION: After he was killed, I was taken in by the witch who put me to work keeping care of her pigs and other, less familiar animals. Although as a child, I had been open and cheerful, my father's death and the dark company of the witch and her secrets changed me. I became secretive and began to spy on others and learn their secrets. My chores kept me fit, though dirty and poorly clothed. The forest changed too, no longer a friendly place to find wood and hunt, but a dark and dangerous place where the villagers began to avoid.

THE STORY SO FAR: I was one of the few to still travel into it regularly as the witch required me to go out and harvest various herbs and plants, often in particular times like midnight at the dark of the moon. It was not all bad, though the forest seemed especially dark and brooking at these times. I made a friend, rescuing the cub of a she-bear that had fallen into the village well. She returned to the copse of trees outside the witch's house night after night and I developed a habit of stealing sweets for her.

One night, I slipped out of the witch's house, pulling my stained shirt tightly around me for warmth. There was a beautiful woman come to town and I waited outside the inn until I saw her leave, her arm around the miller (who I knew was married, with children). Following them, I saw them slip into the deserted mill and when the miller had fallen asleep, the woman lifted his purse and slipped away. As I turned, I heard a sound and discovered that while I spied upon her, I was not alone. Branwen, a strange fey foundling that had been adopted in the village was also out and about late at night. She and I looked at each other but neither of us made a sound. Instead we followed the woman, back to the inn where she mounted a horse and rode off in the middle of the night. The next day, the news came that the miller had been found dead in his mill. Just a theft and murder or was there something more?

The trauma and secrecy of that night led to a friendship with the fey child. Branwen and I met on midnight rambles when we could get free and I grew to see her as the kind and helpful, though still shy, person that she really was. A few years later, a child turned up missing in the village and she was blamed. There was no evidence against her other than that she was fey touched and, for the first time in my adult (?) life, I spoke up publicly. I reminded everyone of all the times she had helped or entertained their children all over the village and soon the more influential members of the community began to agree and overrode the ignorant farmer who had brought the accusation. Good friends and good people are too scarce to waste.

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Last edited by penbeast0; Jan 13th, 2022 at 01:13 PM.
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Old Jan 5th, 2022, 06:32 PM
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Heir to a Legend
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Your father has always told you stories of how great a hero he was. Many of the other villagers scoff at his stories and pity you for being raised by such a liar, but you know that he is true and honest. Now you have his sword, a mighty weapon of power, and you will make a name for yourself to make him proud.

Character name: Donal Jos

Playbook: Heir to a Legend (Warrior-Rogue)

Description: Donal is a young man, who appears as a farmer. He wears simple cloth clothing, a leather coat, and comfortable well-worn boots. His skin is olive, from the sun and being outdoors, his hair is dark and long, while his eyes are deep brown. He maintains a neat stubble, but can let it grow into a beard if unable to groom.

Physically, Donal is well-built. He has had many hard years of farming, which has given him a decent physique and hearty constitution. His years of dealing with farm animals have left him quick-footed, and he rarely loses his footing. His hands are calloused, his skin is weather-beaten, and he has very little fat on his body; all due to long days filled with taxing and unending physical labor on his family farm.

Personality: Donal is generally a kind, caring and protective individual. He has been raised on the tales of his father's past, of being heroic and helping others less fortunate, which has instilled a strong sense of morals. Though, because so many in the village scoff at his retelling of his father's stories, Donal has also become stubborn and a little prideful; he feels that his words should be trusted, as he trusts his father's, and can get agitated when others belittle or dismiss him.

One thing Donal can't abide is the unnecessary cruelty of animals. He understands that some animals are food, and he has no problem eating meat (he quite likes it), but when someone purposefully intends to hurt a creature - such as whipping a horse - Donal must step in and get involved.

Donal feels the same way about his friends. He grew up with a close-knit group, and he often stood up for the smaller ones against bullies or protected them from threats around the village. Whether as a display of his nature, or a want to live up to his father's heroics - or a combination of both - is hard to say. Either way, Donal won't abandon his friends, and will help them face down any danger...

History: Donal was born to a small family - an only child - to parents who were farmers, and grew up on the outskirts of town. From a young age it was clear Donal was bright, he always went out of his way to learn as much as he could from anyone he met - whether it be lessons on fishing, how to throw a punch, or simply how to skip rocks across a lake. He was a cheerful child, he made friends easily, and his upbringing on the farm made him modest and hardworking. It came as no surprise that Donal grew fond of caring for others and started to become protective, such as animals or smaller kids, which became a foundation of his personality in years to come.

For years, Donal's father - Simun Jos - would treat his son to stories of the past, casting the bedtime routine into adventure and excitement, as heroic tales were shared. He was told about how his father was once a great hero, renown for fighting evils throughout distant lands, even raising an opposing army to fight back a barbarian horde. It was amazing being the son of a hero, someone who had such legend to his name... so it was very confusing when villagers laughed at Donal's retellings, saying his father was a liar, but the boy knew his father and he was honest and true.

As he grew, Donal continued to search out others to expand his knowledge and smarts. He became friends with a fisherman, an elderly man who lived down the river from the farm, and the old man shared stories with Donal. And the youngster, in turn, shared tales from his father. Both enjoyed the time spent watching the fishing lines, and unlike the others in the village, the fisherman didn't judge or show any disbelief at the legendary heroic tales.

One autumn, Donal heard there would be a wrestling competition held near the village. Excited, and wanting to prove himself, the youngster tried to seek out training partners. Sadly, not many in the village were able to teach him what was needed, until Donal was told about a skilled fighter from a war or two. Anya was her name, and Donal begged and pleaded for lessons, until she finally took pity on him and relented. The two trained hard, Donal paid +1 STR, -1 INT from trainingfull attention to the lessons, and as the competition got closer he felt there was a real chance of winning. Unfortunately, Donal didn't end up winning the wrestling event, but the lessons that were learned up until that festival were invaluable in his development. With a natural curiosity to learn, Donal asked if Anya would like to continue to train, since he had skill with a great sword; and the pair became friendly training partners, practicing with their respective great weapons over the years.

Throughout childhood, Donal was kept very busy. During the morning and day, he would help work the farm. In the afternoons he would seek out people to learn random lessons from. And at night he was trained in the old ways of war by his father, who could still wield a sword in arm like a hero, and who sought to pass his skills down to his son. At the time, Donal had no reason to question 'why', and simply enjoyed the opportunity to learn how to wield a mighty sword - a great sword, by his father's words - and by the time Donal was in his mid teens he was very capable.

However, when Donal was nearing young adulthood, his father disappeared. Donal's mother, Beatrice, couldn't explain it and asked her son to try and find him. There was no trace of Simun. It was a complete mystery. The young man did everything he could to find his father; he ventured into the forest and dark paths, he traveled nearby merchant roads and tried nearby towns for sightings, but it seemed Simun had just vanished. Both Donal and Beatrice were shocked, and it was with reluctance that they stopped searching, and resumed working the farm to maintain their livelihood.

It wasn't until a number of months later that Donal uncovered his father's things, buried behind one of the barns, in a chest. The chickens had clawed up the soil, which had revealed the box, and what the young man found within was surprising: his father's sword, a supposed mighty weapon of power, and some personal belongings from his adventuring days. Donal spent some time becoming familiar with them, using the items to try and find answers to his father's whereabouts, or to find any sort of clue to help - but sadly none were present, and the young man eventually gave up.

Several days later, while Donal was returning home from the tavern with his friend, Tanis, he saw a mysterious cloaked individual that approached the farm with clear aggressive intent, by the stature and stride it stormed toward the home. Something about the form was odd, like it wasn't quite human, and Donal's instincts kicked in - he had to protect his mother. He rushed down the road, jumped the fences and burst through the front door of the farmhouse... and there, he saw his mother against the wall, the hooded figure looming above her with a dagger!

Thankfully, Donal wasn't alone, and his friend followed into the fray. There was a struggle, the three fought, and eventually the pair of young friends overpowered the mysterious invader in the hood and cloak. It gave a shriek of inhuman sound, then raced from the house in a billowing of cloak and impossibly fast footsteps. Once it was all over, Donal checked on his mother, thanked his friend, and then noticed on the ground - where the fight had taken place - was a small book. And inside, it told stories of old from another person's perspective, and also some confusing contradictions from what his father had said.

And when asked what the mysterious cloaked individual had said, if anything, Beatrice only responded with:

"The son must not become more powerful than the father. You and he will die this night by my blade."


Other Info
STR: (10+2+1)13 (+1)
DEX: (10+1+2)13 (+1)
CON: (8+2+2)12 (+0)
INT: (8+1+2-1)10 (+0)
WIS: (8+1+1)10 (+0)
CHA: (8+1+3)12 (+0)

Hit Dice: d10
Initiative Bonus: +1
Armor: The Heir to a Legend may wear any armor

Class Abilities:
  • Warrior-Rogues have luck beyond that of other men. They receive five Fortune Points instead of the normal three. This means that they will always be able to help their comrades, have more opportunities to reroll unfortunate dice, and be more likely to survive falling beneath 0 hit points.Fortune's Favor
  • All warriors have a favored weapon with which they are particularly skilled. Pick one weapon at first level. Your character receives a +1 to hit and +2 to damage while wielding that weapon. A warrior begins the game with this weapon for free.Weapon Specialization (Great Sword)
Traits:
  • This character loves his friends and comrades and would never betray them. No mental control of any sort can make this character harm his allies, important characters from his background, or the other PCs.Pure of Heart
Skills:
  • Command
  • Farming
  • Storytelling
Equipment:
  • Dagger
  • Peasant's Clothing
  • Your father's sword
  • Leathers
  • Single pure platinum coin
  • 15 silvers
  • Small Book



Last edited by Humble Hero; Feb 2nd, 2022 at 01:24 PM.
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  #5  
Old Jan 5th, 2022, 07:37 PM
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Branwen
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You were found in swaddling clothes beneath an ancient standing stone near the village, a fae token on your breast. Some of the villagers were kind and took you in to raise you as their own. You have a natural gift with magic and, while some are still distrustful of your strange appearance, you have made fast friends with some of the other village children.


Character name: Branwen
Playbook: The Village - The Fae Foundling
Description & Personality: A willowy young woman with large, expressive eyes and an ethereal quality about her, Branwen is introverted and introspective, but quick to connect with others emotionally. Though she appears frail, she has an internal strength that's hard to quantify, and is wise for her young years. She's much more comfortable in the back of a crowd, supporting and advising, than she is leading or being the center of attention.

She is of slight build, with long, straight, raven-black hair and luminous eyes. Her skin is fair, despite a lifetime of working outdoors, and though she seldom speaks without being spoken too, her voice is richer than most would expect. Though young, she seems to have a timeless quality about her, making her age difficult to guess.

History: Branwen was found as a baby on an ancient menhir by a local shepherd, Pryderi, and his wife Lunete. The only clue to her identity or origins was a carved stone rose on her swaddle clothing when she was found. Recognizing that the baby had been left by the fae, with the rose as payment, they took in the baby and raised her as their own.

As a young girl growing up, Branwen would often accompany her adopted father as he led the sheep out onto the mountain, and spend the day watching the sheep and talking about many things with Pryderi. Other days she would spend with Lunete, learning womanly crafts. Though she grew up among the other villagers, everyone knew her heritage and origins, with most keeping a cautious distance from Branwen, or shutting her out completely. A handful of children roughly her age were her companions, along with a grizzled old mercenary who'd settled down after retirement. The old man took a liking to the shy, strange child, and taught Branwen some basics of fighting and defense, recognizing that her differences and quiet nature might make her a target for some, as well as a wildness to her movements and expressions, as if someone had brought a beast in from the woods and taught it some tricks, but always it sought escape and freedom.

When a babe went missing one winter, suspicious villagers whispered that Branwen had taken it back to her faerie family. Fortunately, one of Branwen's friends reminded everyone that she had always been fair and kind, and indeed many had sought out her empathy and insight when nobody else could help. The villagers relented, for though Branwen might be different, they did not truly believe her malicious. Quite the opposite, for despite her fae heritage, the people of the town found her presence peculiarly comforting and reassuring, and could not bring themselves to bear ill will against the girl.

Late one evening, Branwen noticed that a beautiful woman, who was newly arrived to town, leave the inn with her arm around the miller. Couples leaving together was nothing out of the ordinary, of course, but she knew that the miller was married, with several children. Branwen liked the miller's wife, a quiet, gentle soul like herself, and she had often played with a few of the children. Curious and suspicious, Branwen followed the pair to the deserted mill, listening while the two 'entertained' each other, and noticed another of the villagers, Anders, watching as well. Apparently, he had followed them to this spot as well, and the two listened silently in the darkness. Afterward, when the miller had fallen asleep, the woman lifted his purse from his unconscious form and ducked out of the mill. Branwen shared a look with Anders, and though she felt that the miller deserved to be punished for his infidelity, the lost money would hurt his family as well as him. Thus, the pair followed the woman back to the inn, where she mounted a horse and rode off in the middle of the night. Branwen had hoped that they would have the chance to filch the money back from her and return it to the miller's wife, but the woman was gone. The next day, however, the news came that the miller had been found dead in his mill. Branwen was shocked; she had been sure the miller was breathing when she last saw him, and hadn't noticed the strange woman slit his throat. Had someone else been spying with Branwen and Anders, unbeknownst to them? The miller's wife, perhaps? There was no gossip about being found in a 'compromised' state, which surely would've been juicy gossip indeed, so Branwen could only assume that he was fully clothed. She heard nobody talking about the manner of death, and Branwen thought it best to avoid attention by trying to ask, so she let the matter rest.

As Branwen came of age, the fae side of her nature truly revealed itself, and the young girl found herself capable of wielding magic on instinct. Though some feared that the girl would curse the crops, or burn the town down, her magic was actually a blessing to many, for she was able to conjure forth wonderful illusions from thin air, or inspire and bolster her friends and allies. Hunters in particular appreciated the boon to their courage, skill, and fortune, and both children and tavern-goers alike delighted when she agreed to cast her illusions to assist in the telling of a story.
OOCSTR: 9 (+0)
DEX: 15 (+1)
CON: 17 (+2)
INT: 10 (+0)
WIS: 14 (+1)
CHA: 8 (-1)

Hit Dice: d8 HP: 10
Initiative Bonus: +2 BAB: +1
Armor: Leather AC: 13
Saves: Fortitude: 15 Reflex: 16 Will: 16

Traits/Skills: While Fortune Points ordinarily only return after a full adventure, this character’s presence is so warm and tinged with the simple pleasures of home that she and her companions all regain a single Fortune Point after a good night’s sleep, such as when resting in a safe inn and not having to keep watch.Reassuring Presence, Survival, Being naturally sensitive to the world of magic, Warrior-Mages may determine if a person, place, or thing is magical. Doing so requires concentration and a few minutes, so Warrior-mages cannot tell if something is magical simply by being in its presence, and people tend to notice if a mage is staring at them intently and ignoring his food during a meal. The GM may rule that, when in the presence of particularly intense sorcery, the Warrior-mage notices such immediately.Sense Magic.

Knacks:
+1 InitiativeFleet

Spells:
Range: Near
Duration: Concentration
Save: yes
By speaking ancient words of power, the caster calls forth an image. These ghostly images appear real but have no substance. They make sounds roughly appropriate to the type of image created, but are incapable of any sort of intelligent speech or thought. The phantasms will endure until the mage’s concentration is broken. Viewers who have a probable reason to believe that the images might not be real may make a saving throw versus spell; success means that they recognize the shapes as only empty visions. This spell cannot create an image larger than around the size of a horse, nor can it create more than three separate images at a time.
Greater Illusion
Range: Near
Duration: 3 rounds/level
Save: no
The caster calls mystical power to aid himself and his allies, increasing their skill, bravery, and fortune. The caster and all allies within range gain +1 to Hit and +1 to all saving throws.
Inspiration

Equipment:
D: 1d8 R: 600'1200', two-handedLong Bow
20 Arrows
D: 1d4 R: 20'/60', light, thrownDagger
Peasants’ clothing
+2 ACLeathers
15 silvers
A stone carving of a rose
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Last edited by The Rat Queen; Jan 7th, 2022 at 02:49 PM.
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Old Jan 10th, 2022, 09:38 AM
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Tanis' Character ApplicationCharacter name: Tanis Kalhoon
Playbook: Village - The Local Performer
Description & Personality:
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Tanis is a commanding presence to be around, he stands tall, over six feet tall, and average build, has handsome facial features, a sharp chin, silky smooth olive skin, strong, slightly pointed nose, bright brown eyes, bushy black eyebrows and thick, majestic black hair that always seems to look it's best, combed, or left to the elements. He has a finely trimmed full beard and piercings along his right ear, as well as a single stud on his left ear.

He wears common clothes, looser fitting if anything, well taken care of, washed, ironed and well trimmed. His shirt is a common light brown, tucked into his black pants, the loose fabric on his legs are tucked into his dark brown boots, he has a long light orange sash that he has wrapped around his shoulders and uses fabric to tighten his pants, letting the ends flow down to his knees. Overtop is an over the top, bright blue cloak, with as equally flamboyant designs and colours embroidered on it. It is the most eye catching thing that he wears, and people in town immediately recognize who he is with it on. On his side, is a harp, able to be held by one hand, it is the one item that he keeps closest to him and is often seen with his hand on it, or touching it, ready to be brought out and played when given the chance.

Personality wise, Tanis is a friend to everyone, always ready to lend out a helping hand, if there is someone in need, or having trouble with something, he is the first one there to ask how he can help. He is the life of the party in the tavern, bringing people to tears with his stories of tragedy and death, or raising their hands with drinks in them in cheers as he spins a tale of great triumph, or making them fall to the floor in laughter telling a joke or two.

He is also well known as a wheeler and dealer, able to haggle almost anything that he wishes to have for a cheap price, and even sell it back to you for more than he paid for.

As much as he doesn't admit it, he is bored of the town, he wishes to leave, to tell his stories, learn new ones and even make some of his own if he can, even if he is just sitting in the background and witnessing what others do around him. He does love the people here, he loves the town, but it has become stagnant to him, and as much as his father wants him to take over the family business, he doesn't want that life. He wants something more. But he would never express that, not even a whisper, or a mutter of it. There are too many people here with too many problems to be dealt with that seems to be more pressing than his own. But if given the chance, he would leave in an instant if he could.

 



 
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Last edited by The Dark Star; Jan 12th, 2022 at 04:03 PM.
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