[Characters] The Party

[StealWyrmm]

This is where we will be posting all characters and information.

[pianoman90]

Just copying from the recruitment thread..

Name: Aldalgrim Parsteri

Race and Class: Halfling Ranger

Description: A diminutive bowman, Aldalgrim, or 'Ald' has a strikingly innocent face, which has led many to underestimate his skills. He is short, but thin and lithe, quick on his feet and able to hide extremely well. His distinguishing features are, for wont of a better phrase, indistinguishable. Short brown hair, blue-green eyes and a body build that is often mistaken for a child allows him to dart around and 'accumulate' things.

Background: Ald moves from town to town seeking adventure and excitement. He is struck with an odd affliction, commonly known as "Wanderlust" which leads him into caves, through dark forests and other people's houses more often than not getting him into trouble along the way. But he always manages to squeeze his way out of trouble, through a combination of extreme luck and the knowledge that he is never in the wrong. His family all 'suffered' from the Wanderlust malady, and so he had mostly raised himself, as his parents and siblings (13 in total) were away digging through something, or someone's possessions. Whenever Aldalgrim comes to town, he is almost shadowed by guards, watching him and "keeping him safe"-in Ald's words. The guards know better-they are there to keep everyone else safe-safe from his kleptomaniac hands.

Personality: A child in appearance, and a child at heart. He wanders through life knowing full well that nothing bad could happen to him, because he is never doing anything to get him in trouble. Incessantly curious, he finds interest in any scenario, sometimes having to be pulled back by his companions for trying to shake hands with the goblin who wants to kill them. He can use the bow, and use it very well, but it always seems like a last resort, and only after he has pilfered everything he can from his new 'friends'.

Ald seeks new friends and new adventures. His indefatigable curiosity and fearless nature leads him to join with any crew of people looking for adventure. Hate doesn't come into Ald's vocabulary. His innocence and naievity allow him to make friends with anything, and if anyone tried to hurt him, he would instantly dismiss it as a misunderstanding of some kind. This makes him immediately trusting of almost anything and anyone. If anything, his aversion to fighting could be called a dislike, because it removes a potential friend from the world, although he sees the need for it, if the enemy are looking to hurt his established friend.

 

Posting Rate: 1-2/Day

[bulbaquil]

Re-posting from the recruitment thread.

Name: Taalim
Race: Sylph
Gender: Male, but it would be easy to mistake him for female.
Class: Cleric, worshipping the South Wind as an abstraction. The south wind being associated with warm air, his domains are Air (Wind subdomain, naturally) and Sun (no subdomain).
Alignment: Chaotic Good
Description/Personality:
Taalim is tall and lanky, with wavy red hair descending to his shoulders and a relatively androgynous build. In some ways he personifies the sylph stereotype as well as the wind he claims to represent - he is rather whimsical and relatively aloof, though tends to keep a level and somewhat optimistic head about him, and enjoys hanging out with and dealing with people with offbeat and/or vibrant senses of humor. As a devotee of the chaotic wind, which knows no master* and blows whenever it pleases, he has little respect for convoluted and unnecessary legalistic strictures which serve only to delimit freedom - the warm breeze has no need of laws, but it still benefits crops and mankind. He would rather sit and contemplate (read: daily meditation to get back spells) as the wind blows the clouds above by. That isn't to say he would harm, or fail to heal, the overly legalistic or zealous, as long as they weren't trying to cause any harm. No good can come from letting die those who might be a blessing to the world.
Background:
The ultimate source of all wind on the planet is the life-sustaining sun**; that is all the background the wind really has. People, on the other hand, tend to have a bit more than that. Taalim was born of adventurers who had a few too many run-ins with djinns, and it's probably best if we just left it there. He's always been the playful sort, and it's not as if adventurers tend to be overly opposed to their kids wanting to keep up the "family trade", and had been encouraged frequently to "go and do whatever the wind takes you to." The wind took him... to itself, suffice to say. As his very human parents aged in accordance with their much shorter lifespan, the sheriff of his town began to grow more and more into a tyrant, frequently declaring curfews (which a wind-driven individual is going to dislike). In response, Taalim fled northward, the wind at his back, urging him onward. Through quiet contemplation as he stopped to break, he began to feel more in tune with its powers, mesmerized by the way it interacted with its northern counterpart to produce fierce storms, and awed by the fact that the wind could seep through even the tiniest cracks. He's still wandering - the wind doesn't really "settle down" anywhere - and, of course, doing a bit of adventuring on the side, given how few "parishioners" there are for a "temple" with no actual building associated with it.
Posting Rate: 1/day minimum, more often on weekends.

*okay, the laws of physics, fluid dynamics, and magic, but that's beside the point.
**except in settings where it's not.

Character sheet finished.

[Yuul]

Name: Temir Zan
Race: Half Elf
Age: 27
Class: Eldritch Godling(Sorc/Wiz Spell List)
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral
Personality: Temir has always been something of an oddity, and is generally thought of as such, if not worse, by the folk he has grown up around. When he was younger, he did as much as he could to hide his differences, and often kept to the edge of any crowds and was more or less a loner attempting, and often failing, to go unnoticed. He rarely spoke to anyone other than his uncle unless he absolutely had too. Eventually Temir would realize the futility of this endeavor and stopped trying to hide himself and that which made him different. He became more outspoken, stopped looking the other way and pretending he didn't hear it when others talked about or insulted him. One could quite accurately say he became proud of his differences and abnormalities, as they made him different than the people he had to grow up around.

Description: Temir is taller than usual for a half elf, standing at 5'9", and weighing a little less than average for his height. His hair is a pure, soft white that gives the appearance of being very faintly luminescent, something that is proven in the dark. It descends a slightly messy length to shortly above his shoulders. His topaz eyes glimmer with barely suppressed magical power, lighting aglow when wielding magic or angered. His skin a pale tone that at times seems to be a light and almost non existent grey. It appears to be thin to the point that a touch could tear through it. A slight smudge lays underneath his eyes, giving the appearance of a lack of sleep, regardless of how much rest he actually gets. His angular features and pointed ears he gets from the elven half of his father's heritage are exaggerated to the point a non elf might mistake him for one. Ever since he's left his uncle's home his typical garb has changed from the average village clothing he used to wear to more travel-friendly dark toned clothes complete with a cloak he bought with some of the gold he had when he left the village.

Background:

 

Temir's earliest memories in regards to his life before he ended up living with his uncle are for the most part vague. He remembers his father easily enough, and alongside what he's heard from his uncle, it's enough to know that aside from the elven features he possesses through his father's father, and perhaps a bit of his nose, that he looks next to nothing like him. He has only the most vague and cloudy recollection of his mother, a voice he thinks is hers singing what he can only guess to be some kind of lullaby, and sometimes the occasional glimmer of eyes so similar to his own. He often thinks it's images and sounds made up by his subconscious in effort to have some sort of connection with a person he's never met. For all he knew the voice could have been a woman from where his father lived singing as she went about her day. By the time he was three his father was dead, killed in an all too random bandit raid supposedly, according to his uncle, into whose life he was dropped after. His uncle was in truth only his father's half brother, sharing the same mother, and fully human. If it weren't for the fact that he was Temir's only family left, he was certain his uncle would have found some way to foist him off on someone else.

At best the relationship between nephew and uncle neutral, but on occasion worse than that. They had something akin to an understanding though, and rarely outright fought, though that did happen at times as Temir grew older. And while he might be able to get along peacefully to a degree with his uncle, the same could not be said of the townsfolk. He stood out, something he could hardly help with his odd and strange features, and most sympathized with the fact that he was forced on his uncle, and thus thought him and ungrateful burden. It wasn't until he was in his teens that it got unbearable when he first showed signs of the raw magic he possessed. At first it was just odd things now and again, and perhaps his features got more of the unnaturalness they had today, the luminescent, even if faintly so, hair, his eyes that glowed with rage and untapped magic during the times when he had enough of those around him. It became impossible to ignore, by even the most unobservant of the people, when a shouting match turned shoving fight with one of the older boys in the village was interrupted by a flash of cold blue light striking out from Temir and into the boys shoulder, leaving a layer of ice and permafrost and what he later learned to be a serious case of frostbite.

Where as before they had insulted him, gossiped about him behind his back, and shot looks at him, now they feared him, save for when they gathered together in what he supposed they figured to be safe enough numbers. A part of him truly enjoyed them being afraid of him, made him feel powerful sort of. But not nearly as powerful as when he wielded magic. There was no other explanation for what it was. He, like everyone else, heard tales of wizards and sorcerers, great and legendary mages, even seen one when a group of adventurers had passed through town. Learning how to do it again, this time on purpose, came to him without even trying, something that from what he had heard shouldn't even be possible. The more he tried and practice, the stronger the feeling of power rushing through his blood made itself known. His previously almost acceptable relationship with his uncle quickly dissolved out from under him. It was hard for the two to stand in the same room without fighting. Temir figured the only reason his uncle didn't fear him as much as the townsfolk was because he thought family ties would prevent Temir from doing anything to him. Or it was just because the man was stubborn as a mule and never backed down from anything. Eventually it all reached a point that was too much for him and one night he packed a couple changes of clothes, some food to last a couple days, and some gold he had squirreled away here and there and hit the road. That was a few years ago...

Posting Rate: I check in on most days at least twice barring anything out of the ordinary(IE: finals/work)

 

[MrD]

Name: Granite Block

Race: Half Orc

Class: Barbarian (Mountain Clan)

Personality: Tenet, "Most problems in life can be overcome by killing the problem", Kill to eat, Kill for money, Kill for pride, Kill for fun, Kill for practice, Kill to impress. Kill for sport, Kill for sex, ....Errm no, actually strike the last one, Kill, Kill......Kill.

Description: Tall, Grey Green Skin embedded with fragments of quartz, mica and feldspar caused by an accident in his mountain homeland at birth and resulting in his given name, Especially adept at killing from an early age. More action less talk. Being from the mountains means he is good at climbing and comfortable in rocky terrain. Oh and did I mention that he is good at killing and massively loyal to those he respects. Mathematically astute for a barbarian "One pebble.....plus another....pebble....equals......many pebbles!". His knowledge of nature is second to none "The short stuff is grass....The big stuff is trees....all the stuff in the middle is bushes."

"Psst! can I kill the pebbles now?"


Background: Some rocks, a few pine trees and the odd patch of withered scrub grass.


Posting Rate: At least 1/day weekdays. Weekends more or less.

 

[mountainbound]

Name: Donald Bumsmelled

Race: Human

Class: Soulknife, but effectively a Fighter

Mechanics: Finished character sheet

Physical Description: He's 32, a bit lanky and always leaning against something; likes to sneak a book out of his pocket whenever possible. A pair of round glasses make his eyes look a bit too big for his face. On his head is a worn tweed flatcap, and he is never without his darkly striped cloak, which he feels is similar to something he once saw the dean of some school wear. It also helps cover his armor, which he considers boorish but unavoidably practical.

Personality: Don would rather have his nose in a book than his hand on a sword. Prefers to think or talk his way out of trouble instead of fight, and often keeps it up even during a scuffle. He's irreverent, cheeky, and a little jaded. He's clever, but not as clever as he thinks. Same goes for his wit. Sees himself as a traveling scholar, though any true man of learning would quickly see through his "cloak" of erudition.

[Wretched]

Parin Sharktooth   Name: Parin Sharktooth Race: Half Elf Class: Rogue Sex: Male Age: 23 Alignment: CN Personality: Parin is predominately worried about filling his belly with booze and his purse with coin. All in all he can be described as friendly, but a little rough around the edges. That is unless he has been without drink for several nights, in which case he becomes edgy and sarcastic. He seems to get annoyed when people prod at him about his past, but enjoys conversation as long as it isn't serious. Description: With a smirk on his face and a bottle of rum in his hand, a gaunt man with striking sea blue eyes sits in the corner of the bar. His deep black hair is pulled back over his forehead by a faded scarlet bandanna, and his arched eyebrows give him somewhat of a noble look. Background: Parin was born of an elven mother, a slave on the pirate ship "Battered Mermaid". His father could have been anyone on the ship, as many men had made there way with his mother. Raised as a slave, the boy was parted from his mother at the age of five, when she had lost the beauty of her youth. As a small Cabin boy Parin worked hard to keep the pirate crew fed, and found himself at the brunt end of a beating when their stores were short. As he grew older he found himself in the favor of the ships first mate, a man called Sharktooth. Taking the boy under his wing he was trained how to fight with a rapier and how to work as a team to take down a more powerful foe. Although their relationship was never than that of a student and teacher, Sharktooth was the only father figure he had. Though he had found a place among the Pirates, his heart longed for his mother. On a raid of a small village when he was twenty, Parin deserted and ran off on his own way. He would spend the next year or so searching for her from town to town, yet none had heard her name. After that Parin lost sight of his aims and became an alcoholic, and when he ran out of money he started to work as a sell sword so he could afford more drink and tavern floozies.