Post by The Captain Sinn on Oct 27, 2010 5:31:41 GMT -5
Name: Isdes of House Sinn. He is also known as Prince of Chaos around Sinder, some say due to his infamous practical jokes. Also known as the Tempest, a nickname which he gained during the last years of the War of the Blue Divide
Age: Ninety-eight years of age
Race: Elf
Faction: The Elven Court
Appearance: Isdes is of average height for an elf, but that is one of the few things about him that is average. His skin is a dark caramel color, with long luxurious black hair that seems dark purple in most light. During a tantrum he threw as a child he nearly died, as a result he has an amount of white hair, at the bangs and front part of his hair. His eyes are a yellow gold that is common for the House Sinn. He often wears outlandish styles of clothes in equally outrageous colors. He has a number of tattoos and scars, some he got from the war, others from childhood mishaps.
Personality: Young for an elf, and from a family known for its ‘adventurous souls’ Isdes is known around Sinder for his being a free spirit and a constant loving annoyance to his father. Isdes is, like anyone else, a complex and often contradictory person. Despite his eccentric personality, he is very disciplined and driven and is even rumored to have a terrible lust for vengeance. He is whispered to break those who earn his vengeance with a Machiavellian like planning that is entirely ruthless. He is a very egocentric person, with superior tact. And he is known for his enjoyment of the Grand Game. Isdes is one valuable ally, but an even more terrible enemy.
House History: Elves of the House Sinn are the descendents of elves from a far away land. They were great and adventurous elves with a penchant for sailing and cursed with insatiable curiosity. They spent most of their time on their ships, trading with the local humans for supplies they couldn’t make. During the day the sun was unbearable to work in, so these foreign elves would sleep during the day, working only at night. The men called them the Sinn in their language, which roughly meant in their language “Moon walkers”.
Then one day, four ships of the “Sinn” fleet, or about one hundred and twenty elves, left. They left during the day, while the rest were asleep. The reason is lost in the sands of time for none of the originals are now around, but there are rumors and stories abound. Some say two lovers wished to run away together, and gathered the youngest, and most reckless of the other Sinn elves to join them. Another story is they stole something from the Sinn king and left as they did to avoid his punishment.
The majority of the stories were fabricated by the elves of Alagaesia to discredit the ancestors of their opponents in the Grand Game. After landing on the western shore of Alagaesia they were at first disdained by the native elves, because of their dark skin and strange customs, but it was only a short time after the Du Fryn Skulblaka and the elves’ bloodlust was overfull, they assimilated quickly with the other elves, and those of the Sinn fleet joined together to make the House Sinn, their crest is a ship sailing under a waning crescent moon. They settled in an area that about seven north-west of Ilia Feon, they named it Sinder, “Moon’s Rest”. Now it is a small village, but even there the Grand Game is heavely involved.
Recently the House Sinn has had some great luck in the Game, with the rise of Sandovahl, Isdes’ grandfather, to Count of Ilia Feon. Sadly, only two years after his rise, he was slain in an unfortunate accident during a lightning storm. Sandovahl had two children, both sons; one was a carefree dreamer, and the other the very image of stoic. They were reverse images of each other. The dreamer was dark of skin and hair like the majority of House Sinn, his name was Maltheron. His brother was light of skin and born silver of hair, his name was Theroneon.
Sandovahl, the ‘cunning bastard’, as his friends said, that he was stipulated that they would choose amongst themselves who would be the next Count of Ilia Feon, but to be wary of the burdens and consequences. Theroneon, the younger of the two brothers, offered to Maltheron the title, but he did not trust their father and refused and even advised his brother to turn it down also, but promised if he took it anyway, Maltheron would stand by him.
Theroneon became the count of Ilia Feon, with his brother as his right hand. Maltheron eventually sired three children, one of them a son. Theroneon sired but one son, Isdes. The House Sinn has always been a fertile house, and though not uncommon for one to have an only child, Theroneon still sometimes wonders if his father had anything to do with the fact that his only son is also capable of causing more mischief than his brother’s three children combined.
Character History: Born the only son of Theroneon, count of Ilia Feon, Isdes was given the best of everything, he could want for nothing, except his father’s attention, though Theroneon loved his son, his duties as Count kept him busy. Isdes grew close to his mother, who encouraged his free spirit to grow.
He learned that if he misbehaved his father would come to talk with him, ostensibly to talk about his punishment, until Theroneon figured out this was his game and would send Meris, Isdes’ mother, in his stead. For a while Isdes was the model child, until he grew tired of his father’s aloofness. He then told his father; in a tantrum that nearly destroyed the Count’s mansion, and nearly killed his father, several others and himself. And while no one was permanently injured it opened Theroneon’s eyes of the dangers of letting other’s raise his son.
Then the call for war came, the war that became known as the Blue Divide, he answered the call, along with his brother. During the next forty years he saw his son only rarely, though letters containing his latest exploit seemed to hound him during the war, the locals called him the Prince of Chaos because mischief followed Isdes wherever he went.
Isdes joined his father on the battlefield as soon as he was able, quickly gaining a new nickname, he seemed to cut a swath out of the opposing army’s ranks like a tempest through a city. Others said it was his whirling fighting style, his slightly curved pair of swords making him look like a bladed wind. But he wasn’t just known for his skill with a sword. He was also known for his knowledge of the arcane. Besides the other supposed reasons for his nickname he was said to call the wind to blind his enemies as he tore through them.
After the war ended he returned with his father and uncle to Sinder and Ilia Feon, and, seemingly to his father, grew lazy and spoiled. Spending his nights at any number of parties, sleeping his days locked in his bedroom. Though recently that has changed, it actually unsettles Theroneon, thinking it may have been best to let sleeping dragons lie.
Roleplay Example:
The letter seemed to be posted on every door and post in Sinder and Ilia Feon. It humbly requested that the residents join Isdes, son of Count Theroneon of House Sinn, in the Square of the Weeping Hawk, the largest square in the city, at midday, a week after receiving the letter. The letters had appeared overnight, with no one knowing how they arrived, or who had posted them, but as the days passed and none, not even Isdes’ closest friends, had seen him since before the letter appeared it was almost all anyone could speak of. A crowd filled the square, leaving a circle around the platform were a statue of a swooping hawk stood in silent, eternal vigil.
Ten minutes until midday Count Theroneon stood in the crowd anonymously, with his elder brother at his side. People were animatedly discussing what they thought the ‘Prince of Chaos’ had planned. His curiosity eventually got the better of him and Theroneon spoke to his brother.
“What does he plan this time Mal? What could he possibly need the entire population of a village and a city for?” Though they were both young, a mere two-hundred and thirty, Theroneon had deep lines on his face, and his silver hair seemed more and more grey.
“To be honest Theron, I haven’t the slightest clue. Your son is almost like a force of nature, he is sometimes the rain that waters the forest, sometimes the lightning that burns it, sometimes both.”
“That was what I was afraid you’d say. There he is now.” Though he said it in a calmly exasperated voice, there was a faint note of surprise, for one moment Isdes was nowhere to be seen, the next it seemed he appeared out of the air, though there was no feel of magic around.
He wore bright reds, and purples in an exotic fashion. Subtle hints of black could be seen, they were used to pronounce the brightness of the other colors. Tied to his neck hung an exquisite mask, though the way it lay on him made it impossible to see the face of it. He waited until all eyes were upon him, and even the faintest of whispers quieted.
He then spoke, his rich voice easily filling the ears of even the furthest of the elves.
“Thank you for joining me today my friends. I have spent some time in the oldest parts archives of Sinder recently, and found something quite intriguing in my studies. There was once a holiday that celebrated life and freedom! It was a week of frivolity! Of barely controlled chaos! I’d like to revive the holiday! Come tomorrow eve to the clearing in between Sinder and our beloved Ilia Feon, and we shall all enjoy ourselves!” As he spoke the crowd grew more and more excited, punctuating each of his sentences with mirthful gasps. And as he whipped them into a near frenzy, he stopped, and left the platform he had briefly shared with the hawk. Many of the crowd tried to follow him but found they lost him, they left the square to prepare costumes similar to Isdes’ for tomorrow evening.
Theroneon turned to his brother. “I’m leaning towards the lightning this time, as usual. He’s not been in the archives in near a year, and as you know, tomorrow is his birthday, he means to have the entire region celebrate it with him.”
Maltheron grinned slightly, amused at the audacity of the prospect. “I’m sure that detail slipped his mind, brother.”
“I’m sure.” Was his curt reply.
I'm posting this at about 5:30 in the morning after working on it all night. If there are mistakes I shall remedy them tomorrow when I have fresh eyes.
Age: Ninety-eight years of age
Race: Elf
Faction: The Elven Court
Appearance: Isdes is of average height for an elf, but that is one of the few things about him that is average. His skin is a dark caramel color, with long luxurious black hair that seems dark purple in most light. During a tantrum he threw as a child he nearly died, as a result he has an amount of white hair, at the bangs and front part of his hair. His eyes are a yellow gold that is common for the House Sinn. He often wears outlandish styles of clothes in equally outrageous colors. He has a number of tattoos and scars, some he got from the war, others from childhood mishaps.
Personality: Young for an elf, and from a family known for its ‘adventurous souls’ Isdes is known around Sinder for his being a free spirit and a constant loving annoyance to his father. Isdes is, like anyone else, a complex and often contradictory person. Despite his eccentric personality, he is very disciplined and driven and is even rumored to have a terrible lust for vengeance. He is whispered to break those who earn his vengeance with a Machiavellian like planning that is entirely ruthless. He is a very egocentric person, with superior tact. And he is known for his enjoyment of the Grand Game. Isdes is one valuable ally, but an even more terrible enemy.
House History: Elves of the House Sinn are the descendents of elves from a far away land. They were great and adventurous elves with a penchant for sailing and cursed with insatiable curiosity. They spent most of their time on their ships, trading with the local humans for supplies they couldn’t make. During the day the sun was unbearable to work in, so these foreign elves would sleep during the day, working only at night. The men called them the Sinn in their language, which roughly meant in their language “Moon walkers”.
Then one day, four ships of the “Sinn” fleet, or about one hundred and twenty elves, left. They left during the day, while the rest were asleep. The reason is lost in the sands of time for none of the originals are now around, but there are rumors and stories abound. Some say two lovers wished to run away together, and gathered the youngest, and most reckless of the other Sinn elves to join them. Another story is they stole something from the Sinn king and left as they did to avoid his punishment.
The majority of the stories were fabricated by the elves of Alagaesia to discredit the ancestors of their opponents in the Grand Game. After landing on the western shore of Alagaesia they were at first disdained by the native elves, because of their dark skin and strange customs, but it was only a short time after the Du Fryn Skulblaka and the elves’ bloodlust was overfull, they assimilated quickly with the other elves, and those of the Sinn fleet joined together to make the House Sinn, their crest is a ship sailing under a waning crescent moon. They settled in an area that about seven north-west of Ilia Feon, they named it Sinder, “Moon’s Rest”. Now it is a small village, but even there the Grand Game is heavely involved.
Recently the House Sinn has had some great luck in the Game, with the rise of Sandovahl, Isdes’ grandfather, to Count of Ilia Feon. Sadly, only two years after his rise, he was slain in an unfortunate accident during a lightning storm. Sandovahl had two children, both sons; one was a carefree dreamer, and the other the very image of stoic. They were reverse images of each other. The dreamer was dark of skin and hair like the majority of House Sinn, his name was Maltheron. His brother was light of skin and born silver of hair, his name was Theroneon.
Sandovahl, the ‘cunning bastard’, as his friends said, that he was stipulated that they would choose amongst themselves who would be the next Count of Ilia Feon, but to be wary of the burdens and consequences. Theroneon, the younger of the two brothers, offered to Maltheron the title, but he did not trust their father and refused and even advised his brother to turn it down also, but promised if he took it anyway, Maltheron would stand by him.
Theroneon became the count of Ilia Feon, with his brother as his right hand. Maltheron eventually sired three children, one of them a son. Theroneon sired but one son, Isdes. The House Sinn has always been a fertile house, and though not uncommon for one to have an only child, Theroneon still sometimes wonders if his father had anything to do with the fact that his only son is also capable of causing more mischief than his brother’s three children combined.
Character History: Born the only son of Theroneon, count of Ilia Feon, Isdes was given the best of everything, he could want for nothing, except his father’s attention, though Theroneon loved his son, his duties as Count kept him busy. Isdes grew close to his mother, who encouraged his free spirit to grow.
He learned that if he misbehaved his father would come to talk with him, ostensibly to talk about his punishment, until Theroneon figured out this was his game and would send Meris, Isdes’ mother, in his stead. For a while Isdes was the model child, until he grew tired of his father’s aloofness. He then told his father; in a tantrum that nearly destroyed the Count’s mansion, and nearly killed his father, several others and himself. And while no one was permanently injured it opened Theroneon’s eyes of the dangers of letting other’s raise his son.
Then the call for war came, the war that became known as the Blue Divide, he answered the call, along with his brother. During the next forty years he saw his son only rarely, though letters containing his latest exploit seemed to hound him during the war, the locals called him the Prince of Chaos because mischief followed Isdes wherever he went.
Isdes joined his father on the battlefield as soon as he was able, quickly gaining a new nickname, he seemed to cut a swath out of the opposing army’s ranks like a tempest through a city. Others said it was his whirling fighting style, his slightly curved pair of swords making him look like a bladed wind. But he wasn’t just known for his skill with a sword. He was also known for his knowledge of the arcane. Besides the other supposed reasons for his nickname he was said to call the wind to blind his enemies as he tore through them.
After the war ended he returned with his father and uncle to Sinder and Ilia Feon, and, seemingly to his father, grew lazy and spoiled. Spending his nights at any number of parties, sleeping his days locked in his bedroom. Though recently that has changed, it actually unsettles Theroneon, thinking it may have been best to let sleeping dragons lie.
Roleplay Example:
The letter seemed to be posted on every door and post in Sinder and Ilia Feon. It humbly requested that the residents join Isdes, son of Count Theroneon of House Sinn, in the Square of the Weeping Hawk, the largest square in the city, at midday, a week after receiving the letter. The letters had appeared overnight, with no one knowing how they arrived, or who had posted them, but as the days passed and none, not even Isdes’ closest friends, had seen him since before the letter appeared it was almost all anyone could speak of. A crowd filled the square, leaving a circle around the platform were a statue of a swooping hawk stood in silent, eternal vigil.
Ten minutes until midday Count Theroneon stood in the crowd anonymously, with his elder brother at his side. People were animatedly discussing what they thought the ‘Prince of Chaos’ had planned. His curiosity eventually got the better of him and Theroneon spoke to his brother.
“What does he plan this time Mal? What could he possibly need the entire population of a village and a city for?” Though they were both young, a mere two-hundred and thirty, Theroneon had deep lines on his face, and his silver hair seemed more and more grey.
“To be honest Theron, I haven’t the slightest clue. Your son is almost like a force of nature, he is sometimes the rain that waters the forest, sometimes the lightning that burns it, sometimes both.”
“That was what I was afraid you’d say. There he is now.” Though he said it in a calmly exasperated voice, there was a faint note of surprise, for one moment Isdes was nowhere to be seen, the next it seemed he appeared out of the air, though there was no feel of magic around.
He wore bright reds, and purples in an exotic fashion. Subtle hints of black could be seen, they were used to pronounce the brightness of the other colors. Tied to his neck hung an exquisite mask, though the way it lay on him made it impossible to see the face of it. He waited until all eyes were upon him, and even the faintest of whispers quieted.
He then spoke, his rich voice easily filling the ears of even the furthest of the elves.
“Thank you for joining me today my friends. I have spent some time in the oldest parts archives of Sinder recently, and found something quite intriguing in my studies. There was once a holiday that celebrated life and freedom! It was a week of frivolity! Of barely controlled chaos! I’d like to revive the holiday! Come tomorrow eve to the clearing in between Sinder and our beloved Ilia Feon, and we shall all enjoy ourselves!” As he spoke the crowd grew more and more excited, punctuating each of his sentences with mirthful gasps. And as he whipped them into a near frenzy, he stopped, and left the platform he had briefly shared with the hawk. Many of the crowd tried to follow him but found they lost him, they left the square to prepare costumes similar to Isdes’ for tomorrow evening.
Theroneon turned to his brother. “I’m leaning towards the lightning this time, as usual. He’s not been in the archives in near a year, and as you know, tomorrow is his birthday, he means to have the entire region celebrate it with him.”
Maltheron grinned slightly, amused at the audacity of the prospect. “I’m sure that detail slipped his mind, brother.”
“I’m sure.” Was his curt reply.
I'm posting this at about 5:30 in the morning after working on it all night. If there are mistakes I shall remedy them tomorrow when I have fresh eyes.
