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  #1  
Old 03-27-2012, 04:47 PM
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The Warriors of Hulun

This thread is for the characters: I shall post links to all the character sheets here.
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Old 03-27-2012, 05:12 PM
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Old 04-24-2012, 05:52 PM
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RET- warrior, weapons maker, former slave of the Raven tribe

Basic infoName: Ret
Player: philipjm
Class: Barbarian
Age: 20
Alignment: True Neutral


Physical Description:Ret is 5’7” tall and has a muscular build with a generous layer of fat evenly distributed around his body. His skin is tanned deep beige, and is rough from labour. There are two large, bright red tattoos of ravens burnt onto the back of his hands branding him as a former slave of the Raven tribe. His eyes are the light green of grass, and his hair is chestnut brown. His beard is long and unkempt, but his hair is short and uniform. His nose is crooked and jagged from having his nose broken. This resulted in him needing to breathe through his mouth, and his mouth being continuously open. Ret often smells of wood, fire, and guts from being a weapon smith.


Personality:Ret could be defined by his work ethic. While never being the most athletic or intelligent member of his tribe, Ret always was able to harness his dedication into achieving success. Self-conscience about his shortcomings Ret focussed his efforts into becoming one of the tribe’s best weapon-forgers.

Ret’s weapon forging, and friendly nature made him well known in the community. Neighbours and friends know that Ret is always willing to lend a helping hand whether it’s collecting some fire wood for them or feeding their livestock. Most of Ret’s time is spent serving the community, but when left alone he often hunts small game, and gathers berries to prepare new meals. He was beginning to think of starting a family before being captured, and once heard that the way to a woman’s heart is through her belly.


Background:After Ret’s ransom was paid by diplomat of the Hulun tribe, he was taken to the edge of the tribe of the Raven’s territory, given a horse provided by the diplomat and released. He had been held as a prisoner of war for 4 grueling weeks. Knowing it would take a while to get back into the safety of his people’s region, Ret quickly fashioned a short spear and used it to kill a rabbit. He skinned the rabbit, separated the meat from the bone, and placed it underneath his saddle letting the galloping of the horse tenderize the meat as he rode home. He knew he would spend the long ride thinking of the events that led to him becoming a slave of the Raven tribe.

It was Grism, a veteran warrior of the Hulun tribe, who light-heartedly scoffed at him when setting up a target for one of his neighbour’s daughters to practice using her sling on. She’s only 12, but I bet I’ll see her on the battlefield before you. It embarrassed Ret, he had spent the last 6 years of his life making weapons for the tribe to use in battle, but not once had he ever joined in one himself. He became determined to join the next group assigned to protect one of the weaker tribes.

The flash of the battle ran through his head. He was quickly captured from on top of his horse by a net. He was placed on the back of one of the horses of the attacking tribe, and taken back to their region. Ret soon discovered that he was taken captive by the Raven tribe. Before being taken to a wooden hatched prison cell that would serve as his home for the next 4 weeks, he was branded by bright red Raven tattoos burned into the back of his hands, and his long hair being chopped off his head. Ret knew that the Raven tribe used the tattoos to label their prisoners as slaves, and that cutting of the prisoners hair indicated that they were defeated in combat.
As Ret started getting closer to his own region he became aware of how uneasy he now was with Ezra’s excursions into the woods but knew he could never express it out of respect for K’harg. Ret spent the rest of his journey fantasizing that the weapons he would craft one day being used to humiliate and defeat the Raven tribe.
Note: Ret’s family are undistinguished within the Hulun tribe.
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Last edited by Sofinho; 04-25-2012 at 06:17 PM.
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Old 04-24-2012, 06:13 PM
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WYK- an other wordly young spirit shaman who abhors violence against nature

Basic InfoName: Wyk
Player: Uroboros
Class: Spirit Shaman
Age: 14
Alignment: True Neutral


Physical DescriptionWyk is a slight young man, shorter than average for his age, but fit and tan from years of nomadic life on the plains. Unlike the tanned hides and furs worn by most of the tribe, he wears simple rough spun trousers, loose and baggy so as not to impede movement and tied about the waist, and a simple cloth vest covered with strange symbols and pictograms. While he normally goes about barefoot, in colder seasons he begrudgingly deigns to wrap his feet in simple oil-cloth moccasin boots, and wears a long cloth wrapped and bunched about his body. His jet black hair, unkempt and often unwashed, is cut short unlike the long hair and decorative braids worn by others of the tribe.


PersonalityWyk is a boy far too serious for his age. He very rarely smiles and often seems distracted, as though he were listening to some silent conversation in the background. Yet despite his serious demeanor he's not morose or gloomy, and often after quietly studying a situation for a time will make a comment that hints at a wisdom far beyond his years. When he's apart from people he can often be seen to be muttering quietly to himself, though he's learning to stop that based on Mortaath's admonition that it makes others uncomfortable. Normally quiet and aloof, he becomes an entirely different boy when he's out on the plains, racing with a hare or whistling back at a bird. Rarely does he play with Moraath's other apprentices though, and he vocally complains about studying the clerical rites and rituals she teaches them to honor and appease the gods. Despite his aloofness he does not dislike the company of others, he has simply become accustomed to being alone after a lifetime of ridicule for being different. He is an avowed pacifist, and refuses to wear the skins, furs, and bones that the other Hulun adorn themselves with. He will however defend himself and the lives of others, violently if necessary.


Background"Even as a baby we knew he was different." The woman shrugged a fur from her shoulder as she leaned forward to stir the small fire that provided the only illumination in the simple aurochs hide tent. "He would never cry, and would stare off into the distance when we would play with him. Timot, may his spirit ever ride with Ra'ad, feared the boy was touched. It is told that my far distant blood-sister once birthed a child who was touched, and threw herself and the babe from a cliff in despair."

"I told Timot that the boy was special, and perhaps it was the will of the gods that his first son should not be the great warrior he envisioned. I think he was dissapointed the child could not mount a horse and throw a spear his first moon from the womb."

"He was never a fussy baby, nor did he grow into an unruly boy. Never did he get into the trouble that the other boys sought, and he was always content to play with the dogs in the camp or to go exploring by his self on the plains. I encouraged him to play with the other children, but children can be cruel. To his credit Wyk never lost his patience with them. Once he came to me, bloodied and covered with filth, and after cleaning him up I asked him what had happened. He only replied that the boys didn't know any better because they couldn't see. I thought it a strange comment, for we have no blind children in the tribe, but he wouldn't say any more."

"That fight made Tik'kot very angry though, and he vowed that he would teach Wyk to be a man and to defend himself like a warrior. This was shortly after Timot had died in the Raven clan raid, and Tik'kot was still furious over his brother's death. Tik'kot is a good man and has provided for us ever since Timot died, but I fear he tried too hard to be a father to Wyk. The harder he pushed the boy to learn the ways of a warrior, the more distraught he became. It finally came that, while out on a hunt we cornered a wolf in a box canyon. The beast was crazed with fear and anger, and in that state it had broken it's leg and was suffering. Tik'kot thrust a spear to Wyk and insisted that he kill the creature, and he raged when the boy refused. I explained to him that the animal was in pain and he must do it the mercy of killing it. Reluctantly, Wyk took up the spear and with one sure stroke drove it into the creatures chest."

"He was disconsolate for days after that. He would not eat or sleep, and simply sat beyond the edge of the camp, staring off at the end of the world. We called Moraath, fearing he was sick. She walked out to the boy and came back shortly. When questioned all she would say was that his sickness was not of the body but of the spirit. I pleaded with him to come home and eat. I pleaded with Moraath to drive out whatever evil spirit had possessed my son. But she told me there was nothing she could do."

"Finally the poor boy became so weak he collapsed and we had to carry him back to the camp. Moraath took him into her hut and began to nurse him back to health. Still he would not speak or acknowledge me. He just stared off as though watching some distant herd. Gradually his strength returned, though I feared his wits had forever left him. The tribe was preparing to move on and I resigned myself to stay behind and take care of him."

"Never was I so relieved when he came to me suddenly with Moraath at his side to say that he would be joining her as an apprentice. I questioned them both about what evil spirit had made him so sick and about his sudden recovery, but neither of them would speak of it."

"For many moons now Wyk has studied with Moraath, and he's returned to being the same quiet boy he ever was. He seems somehow stronger now, though, and he's growing to be a young man. He refuses to go on the hunt to secure his place as a man in the tribe. I tell him that he's no longer just a boy and he must stop playing with the dogs in the camp and the prairie dogs in the plains. He needs to grow up and find a nice girl to make a life with. But why should he listen to me, I'm only his mother."
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Last edited by Sofinho; 04-25-2012 at 06:22 PM.
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Old 04-24-2012, 06:27 PM
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BOLEN- mischief-making shaman of Da, a lover of the night but amiable and gregarious

Basic InfoName: Bolen
Player: LeprousLeprechaun
Alignment: Chaotic Good
Class: Cleric (God: Da. Domains: Knowledge, Travel)
Age: 17


Physical Description:Bolen is 5'10" tall and slender, with a narrow face. His skin is remarkably pale for a steppe tribesman, due to his preference for the night over the day, and contrasts sharply with his jet-black hair. His pale blue eyes strike some as scheming and untrustworthy, but upon closer inspection sparkle with mischief. He appears to move awkwardly, in a slightly gangly fashion, and so appears clumsy, but if you watched him for a bit longer you would notice that although he often stumbles, he never falls; in fact, for all his lack of grace, he can run as fast as the tribe's best scouts and never gets lost.


Personality:Bolen has always been a troublesome character. Never serious about any subject, the boy is a constant source of flippancy and cheek. He very rarely shows any respect for his elders, with the exception of Daromir, whose stern features do not lend themselves to being teased, and K'harg, who Bolen simply doesn't dare to mock too openly. However, for all his misbehaviour, it is always completely obvious that there is no malice at all behind his mischief; simply the exuberance of a young man coming into his own, and so he is well-liked, especially by Fanwé and Moraath, who have taught him his magic and who secretly enjoy being exasperated with him even as they scold him yet again. He hold what he thinks is a secret infatuation with the scout Ezra, although it is obvious to anyone who notices that he goes out of his way to tease her far more than anyone else; he is slightly awed by her confidence and aloof nature, and the matter-of-fact competence she displays in every activity. Unfortunately, his attempts to not be seen showing too much respect and deference to her have precisely the opposite effect to what he intends.


Background:From birth, Bolen has always preferred the night - under the pale light of the moon, his senses seem to flex and unfurl to their fullest extent, and the cool darkness sends shivers of anticipation over his bare skin. His parents, and the other tribesmen and -women, were always perplexed by this, being creatures of the Sun herding their cattle by day; however, recognising his talent for magic, they supported him in his eccentricity as best they could, doing their best to tolerate the cockiness caused by his talent and the knowledge that he was genuinely different to the others, and trying to channel and refine his natural profligacy into a wiser cleric of the tribe; for while he always learned and understood very quickly, he nonetheless still acted rashly and without forethought. Gradually, though, they are shaping him into a fine young man and helping him to find the best use for his unusual talents.
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Last edited by Sofinho; 04-25-2012 at 06:40 PM.
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Old 04-24-2012, 07:03 PM
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GROLIK- kind-hearted but troubled warrior from a far-off tribe, adopted by the Hulun

Basic InfoName:Grolik
Player: Baxder
Age: 20
Class: Barbarian
Alignment: Chaotic Good


Physical DescriptionGrolik stands over 6' tall, and is powerfully built. His long blonde hair hangs in tangled masses to his shoulders, usually obscuring most of his face. Nonetheless, his piercing icy blue eyes find the gaps to make themselves clear. His nose, cheekbones and chin are pronounced, giving him a fierce look which he readily uses to his advantage in the face of enemies, though also making it difficult to appear non-threatening to would-be friends. His back is scarred with whip marks, and he bears his clan's mark of exile, a brand in the shape of a bear claw on his left temple.


PersonalityGrolik is a tamed bear, and has the humble, controlled strength to match. His manner is serious but kind, marked by the sobriety of a man who has a great deal of regret and wishes to keep others from making the same mistakes. His manner towards authority is penant, out of debt he feels he owes to thier taking him in and to atone for past rebellion. Altogether his is kind and helpful, but has little tolerance for mistakes, disrespect or malcontent.


Background:Grolik grew up in a fringe tribe of the northern forest; a small band of hunters who call themselves the Clan of the Bear, not for being beholden to any deity, but for their great strength and knowledge of the forest. His parents were not a part of the tribal leadership, but well respected for their service to the tribe and their prowess as warriors. Grolik was no exception. He did differ from his father, however, in his great pride. Grolik, in his youthful foolishness, let his exceptional family reputation and his own great strength go to his head. He had convinced himself that he could face any foe the forest could hold, and became reckless in his desire to prove his mettle. Despite his family and tribe's reassurances that he had done so a dozen times over for someone so young, he continually sought out greater foes while on patrol in his tribe's lands. It was on one such patrol that he foolishly provoked a over-large group of ogres, with but a few men in his group, among whom was the clan leader's son. Grolik was the sole survivor of the battle, and was near death himself. The clan chief, however, showed him no mercy for the loss of his son. Grolik was flogged severely, branded with the clan's mark of exile, and left in the forest.

He managed to survive and nurse himself back to health well enough to make his way into the steppe, where he was taken in by a band of Pariahs, bent on raiding the imperials as they made their way to Three Rivers from their native lands. Thinking this a good new test of his strength, he eagerly joined the band. His fervor quickly turned to horror as he witnessed the atrocities the others committed upon the travelers in the first raid he participated in. They not only killed the escorts and men, but targeted the women and children for far worse fates than he could have ever imagined. All he knew in the end was fury, and he loosed it upon his erstwhile companions, so that he was once again very near death by the time it was over. This time, though, he had spared many innocents from defilement and their own deaths, and he knew then how misguided his life had been to that point.

The travelers cared for him until they reached Three Rivers, where they turned him over to his own people, though a different tribe, the Hulun. Upon hearing of his bravery and sacrifice, they took him in and nursed him back to health. He expressed his sorrow for the mistakes of his past, most of all his involvement with the pariah band he had initially aided in the raid that had subsequently opened his eyes to the error of his ways. Seeing his repentant spirit, they put him to work as a guardsman over the citizens of Three Rivers, which he gladly took to as his penance for the harm he had visited upon them.
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Last edited by Sofinho; 04-25-2012 at 06:30 PM.
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Old 04-25-2012, 06:07 PM
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AMOND- taciturn child of the wilderness with an ambiguous moral compass

Basic InfoName: Amond Baste
Player: CRblackfist
Class: Ranger
Age: 19
Height: 6'
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral


Physical DescriptionA tall, but lean young man. Amond has wiry but capable arms and legs. Amond has very short black hair with bright blue eyes that contrast with his dark skin and complexion. His youthful face shows little signs of facial hair, but he does not appear childlike. A stong jaw and large brow betray his ascent into manhood and he bears the blue tattoo's of the Hulun across his entire right arm, shoulder and neck, but due to his dark skin, the tattoo's are far darker than the normal turquoise tattoo's of his people.


PersonalityA hard, distant youth, Amond was raised by the fist. Always taught to be independent and able, he was beaten by the tribe members that cared for him, but he never resented them. The beatings came only when he made a mistake, or did not think and each bruise was a lesson. He did not integrate well however, treating most of the tribe as if they were competitors and Amond often preferred to spend time alone, rather than intergrate with others his own age. Amond felt he had to rely upon himself, rather than others, and that it was up to him to do what he needed done as there was no glory or respect to be earned in having others do it for you. It is because of this Amond is eager to earn the virtue of the Gods through his deeds and does whatever he feels appropriate to earn their blessings. Deeply religious in his own way, Amond understands that on the plains it is just as acceptable to kill as it is to help others, it all depemds on the situation. He does not however like the constraints of others, and rebels in his own, often still childish, ways.


BackgroundRaised by surrogate parents from within the tribe after his mother died during childbirth, Amond was treated much the same as his surrogate brothers and sisters. Raised to worship the God's, the Hulun tribe's religious doctrine was deeply ingrained into him through his adopted parent's teachings and Amond found a keen affinity for Raad and Da. Beaten when mistaken or foolish, he never made the same mistake twice. Expected to learn quickly, Amond soon picked up useful skills through observing his "family," learning to imitate any of the skills he saw as useful from survival skills through to the use of weapons. His father was never known to him, but Amond did not long to meet him. He already had a family and was content with his lot.

The treatment at the hands of his family however left Amond wary of others, distant and unsypathetic. He never seemed able to interact properly with others and was viewed as a quiet, unimposing youth. Often Amond would venture onto the plains alone to hunt or track animals as a way of proving his value, if even only to himself, and would, although rarely, sometimes return with a small carcass to offer as food for the tribe. However his deeds were not recognized by the tribe and most of Amond's work went unnoticed by the majority of the Hulun.
Amond trained as a hunter and tracker, venturing onto the plains to observe and learn from nature. With few other skills, and very little interaction with others his age, it was the only really noteworthy thing Amond did in the eyes of his tribe. When the warriors left for glory, Amond was left behind, overlooked and denied the honour of joining the war party. Instead Amond continued with his routine, patrolling the steppes as ordered by the tribal elders and occasionally hunting game. Although irked, Amond did not voice his displeasure at missing the chance to earn the respect and glory of the Hulun and Raad.
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Last edited by Sofinho; 04-25-2012 at 06:45 PM.
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Old 04-26-2012, 04:25 PM
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LUGANA- Feisty charismatic, tattooed storyteller and reinterpretor of Hulun tradition

Basic InfoName: Lugana
Character: Achard
Class: Bard
Alignment: Neutral Good
Age: 18


Physical DescriptionThe first thing to notice about this young, dark-skinned woman is her long, curly, black hair, adorned with the colored bones of various small animals. Being naturally dry, the hair stands up in all directions and occupies a large area around her head, giving it a gravity-defying look.

She is usually seen wearing an outfit of skins and hides taken from several animals. Her skin is partly covered in tattoos that depict scenes from Lugana's favorite stories.

Though she has inherited her rough skin and strong jaw from her father, Lugana appears to be more beautiful than her physical limitations give reason to mainly because of her everpresent, inviting smile. Her slender frame gives her a fragile look, but looks may deceive...


PersonalitySocially active by nature, Lugana loves her tribe's celebrations. The song, dance and art that accompanies the Hulun's social gatherings are her passion. She loves to learn and teach stories of the tribe's history and has great respect for traditions and customs, though she does not feel bound by them. She feels the stories give great advice on how to do and not to do things, but there are no absolutes. Every life and every situation is different.

Lugana looks upon the world with awe and wonder. To her, even the most simple details in nature hold a powerful magic, which can be detailed and understood. Despite her intelligence and social skills, Lugana can sometimes be lacking in common sense, something often pointed out by the elders of the tribe.

Lugana has sometimes suspected she cannot bear to be alone and idle because of some forgotten trauma in her youth, but she feels unpleasantries in the past deserve to remain in the past. Life is short. As a follower of Boros, she knows any day can be her last, so the present is what matters most. This duality of respect for the past and focus on the present is an important part of Lugana's personality.


BackgroundEighteen winters ago, she was guided into this world by Empala, the mother-of-the-land, to the respected spellcaster Mahga and her mate, warrior and hunter Tolor, of the tribe of the Hulun. Lugana she was named, an ancient word for "Spring Wind", as she was born when the cold winter had finally started giving way to the impending summer. Her first years saw the name fitting her. Nothing could take away the wind from her steps and the smile from her lips as she curiously, eagerly sought to learn of this strange, new world she had been introduced to.

During those early years, her smile only left her lips for brief moments, and a tear only came to Lugana's eye when Mahga was suddenly and unexpectedly taken away by Boros, Empala's brother. Instead of shunning the guardian of the dead for depriving her of her beloved mother, Lugana found herself intrigued by this strange being who held the key to knowledge of this world and the next.

In her teenage years, Lugana became a worshipper of Boros, much to the dismay of her father, who had always been a stout follower of Temera, the goddess of battle. He attempted to teach his daughter the ways of battle, but found she was more interested in knowledge and the secret skill of magic, and ultimately accepted that his daughter was more akin to her mother than him. Lugana lacked much of the magic abilities that had been such an integral part of her mother's life, and instead found herself amassing knowledge of her tribe and the world. She listened intensively to the elders, the singers of songs and the weavers of tales. Gradually, she became a holder of lore new and old, and despite her young age, the people of the Hulun often found themselves listening to her wherever the tribe's traditions and customs were concerned. As she came of age, Lugana was already a respected storyteller.
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Last edited by Sofinho; 08-05-2012 at 08:13 AM.
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Old 04-28-2012, 06:39 AM
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Grimach Redhorne

Basic Info
Name: Grimach Redhorne
Player:Replay
Gender: Male
Alignment: NG
Class: Spirit Shaman
Age: 20


Physical DescriptionGrimach has light, smooth, clean skin, an oddity for one of his tribe, most sporting dry blotchy damaged skin from hunting. His bright orange hair, cut short at not quite shoulder length, hangs loosely around his face and ears.

Although well spoken for a simple tribesman, Grimach lacks the ability to excel in physically demanding tasks. He is fairly average, not showing much muscle at all and looks thin when placed next to another of his tribe.

He has deep blue eyes that seem to radiate truth. The rest of his face is relatively ordinary, while others of his tribe may be boasting about the many scars that they have, Grimach has nothing especially remarkable to behold, or rather that is the remarkable thing about it.

PersonalityGrimach is a very strong willed person, he isn't afraid to voice his opinion, however he often backs down and mentally retreats if anyone shows any displeasure with his comment, assessment, or query. He is almost always very quite when he first meets someone and takes his time to try to know the person before being able to quieten his subconscious and speak openly with them.

He's not one to oversell himself in regard to fighting prowess, and often would rather a diplomatic solution rather than fighting. During battle he often hangs back, simply bolstering his friends against the enemy, and only fights if there is no other option.


BackgroundGrimach's early life was relatively unremarkable, he began helping the women of the tribe forage for more basic morsels of food and occasionally helping search for other items of use. When it came time for training to be a warrior of the tribe, he greeted it eagerly, only to have his excitement dwindle when his training often only led to floggings rather than fighting betterment.

After only a few days of such training, a spirit shaman approached him with an offer to become her student. Once again he eagerly accepted, although this time was simply due to a distaste towards his constant floggings. Grimach's days now consisted of waking at an early hour and walking to the spirit shaman's house before others even had knowledge of a new day, and constant long hours of training in how to read the spirit realm and using it to the advantage of others, and how to use many of the benefits found in the natural world.

After many years of constant training, Grimach's new mentor- the High Shaman, Moraath- sent him away from the tribe to learn what he could about the world around them and the insight and wisdom needed by a spirit shaman, ordering him not to return until he had knowledge of how and when to use his new abilities in the best way he could.He wandered for a time honing his abilities and learning how and when to use them in order to gain an acceptable outcome for most, if not all parties involved in the given situation, with his new spirit companion, an elk that he had gotten used to calling Amaal, an Eldar word which translates as 'Beautiful Harmony'.

Upon returning from his journey to tell his Moraath all about what he had learn in the time he had been away, Grimach found the tribe preparing for war with the Raven. As the War Chief, K'harg, addressed his cohorts Grimach believed he witnessed some kind of spy... a magical bird or somesuch... but his protests were ignored. The war band left without him, and Grimach remained behind to help defend the camp.
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Last edited by Sofinho; 07-07-2012 at 09:14 AM.
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Old 04-28-2012, 06:51 AM
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Marek- Moody sorcerer with a distinctly dark side

Basic InfoName: Marek
Player: hyenaofleisure
Class: sorcerer
age: 18
alignment: chaotic neutral


AppearanceLanky and frail as a child, Marek has grown into similar attributes as an adult. His dark unkempt hair hangs heavy about his neck and shoulders, out of place on his lean figure. His amber eyes are hooded and his shoulders are slightly stooped, and, if not for his incredibly pale skin, he looks as if he grew up among poor farmers instead of in the rough, strength-driven barbarian tribes. His talents are well hidden, and there are barely any clues to his latent magic on his wiry frame.


PersonalityMarek is very withdrawn from most people of his tribe, magic users are not trusted, and very often feared, as such he fights and struggles to suppress his inborn ability as a sorcerer, and act like a normal tribesman. He is distrusting of others, and rather meek and shy, sometimes he comes off as a little bit cold, but when people actually get close to him, he's very open and honest about his feelings.

BackgroundMarek's family line was directly affected by the raids against the settlements, his father was a barbarian warrior from a fierce, proud line of barbarians who took pride in their strength, during a raid against one of the settlements, he kidnapped a young, beautiful woman and took her as his own, not knowing her to be a warlock. She became pregnant, and gave birth to Marik, an surprisingly weak child from the word 'go', he struggled most of his life to achieve what those around him considered every day, and when his magical abilities game into affect in his early puberty, he panicked, unable to control himself. Eventually, the magic became too apparent, and the tribe came to his father's door demanding blood. His mother, in a last action of love and guardianship scarified herself to protect him, saying she was a witch, but her child was a disappointment to her, no magic in his blood, a filthy barbarian like the rest of them. From then on, Marik has fought with all his might to hide his power, and just be a mediocre villager of the tribes, living under the pride of his father, the shame of his mother, and with no apparent talent to the world. Marek was a nothing and nobody to the tribe, ruining the strong name of his father's bloodline, and having nothing to show for himself. Nothing more than a disappointment.
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Old 04-28-2012, 07:00 AM
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Tudaam- gentle bard possessing a close affinity with animals, especially horses

Basic InfoName: Tudaam Bowens
Player: Milca604
Alignment: Neutral Good
Class: Bard
Age: 19


Physical DescriptionSkinny, black hair, brown eyes. 5'-6" height, 140lbs
Surprisingly, living in dangerous times like this, Tudaam has no scars or tattoo on his body. This is one of the unique things that makes him different from others. Tudaam is quite a handsome teenager entering his adulthood. His name is quite famous amongst the young female tribe members.


PersonalityKind, Polite, a little shy around people who he just met. Great with animals.
Tudaam often helps others in the tribe, but he doesn't let the people around him get to know him too well. Always seemed a little distant but always welcome. Probably because others in the tribe knows his past, and that Tudaam is always willing to help. Tudaam spend more time with animals than with other villagers. It seems like animals are simpler than human, thus less tiresome. Tudaam doesn't have to talk when he doesn't feel like it.


BackgroundTudaam's parents were both adepts of the tribe. They cared for the horse herd and other livestock, and came to care for tha young Bundu. Until Tudaam was born, they had no children: they had tried for many years without success, had consulted the shaman and no-one could help. They doted on Bundu, taught him how to care for the animals and protected him from bullies in the tribe (not that he needed it). When Bundu went on his trial and became a warrior, it was they who feared for him, not his father.

Bundu's father, G'heeg, was a mighty war chief: when the Tolda, Raven and Imperials were all threatening the Hulun territories he was more concerned with dealing with K'harg than defending his people. Bundu and Tudaam's parents fled to K'harg, believing only he could save the Hulun.

Tudaam's parents were a welcome addition to K'harg's band. The shaman Moraath especially welcomed their gentle ways and saw to it that they would overcome whatever malady was preventing the birth of their child. Moraath consulted the spirits and divined that the gentle couple needed the strength of Bundu to help them. The shaman fashioned a magical necklace which Bundu wore for nine months, after which it was given to Tudaam's mother. Within weeks the signs were evident that she was with child, and Tudaam was born nine months later, on his father's fortieth birthday. Bundu has been like Tudaam's older brother ever since.

Moraath stated that ever after Tudaam's mother should wear the necklace to protect her child, which she did, right up until her death. A group of Raven had tried to steal some of the horses: Tudaam's mother and father fought valiantly with Bundu, but ultimately gravely wounded. Bundu carried them both back to the camp over his shoulders, to Moraath's tent. It was too late for Tudaam's father, but his mother was able to hand Bundu her necklace before she died. Moraath could do nothing for her as the Raven had used a powerful, magical poison. Bundu now sees that he must carry on the role, so he wears the necklace, even though Tudaam is 19 and thus has come of age.

Ever since the death of his parents, Tudaam herded other people's horses in exchange of hot meals. If there's anything different about him, it will have to be that he sings to the horses, and the horses he herd not only run faster, but also never get sick.


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Last edited by Sofinho; 08-05-2012 at 01:35 PM.
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Old 08-05-2012, 03:07 PM
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Eversor- sinister, vengeful scout...

Basic InfoName: Eversor
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral
Class: Scout
Age: 18


Physical Description:Eversor is a picture of dread. He has deep black eyes that make a person feel that his very soul is being pierced as he stares. He looks at someone with his vengeful eyes as if he is staring at an animal ripe for slaughter. He has a noticeable deep scar in between his eyes shaped like the slopes of a mountain. It is as long as a nail like a deep cut that healed. He has a curly deep black hair that he wears loosely, matched with his light brown complexion. He has good build from his summers spent wandering the plains with the herd and winters working at the village of Forl. This man rarely talks but when he does, he has a voice of someone in authority.


Personality:Vengeance is the only word that describes this man. He lust for the blood of those responsible for the events that have befallen his family at Forl...


Background:Eversor is a child of mixed heritage: his father was a Hulun warrior and his mother a villager at Forl, a simple craftswoman. His parents never saw eye to eye, so he would spend his summer's wandering the plains with his father's small band and would spend the colder months helping at the village of Forl, a small fortified town by the River Ur, built into the foothills of the Wyrmsteeth mountains...


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Last edited by Sofinho; 08-05-2012 at 03:10 PM.
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