Post by nehlo on Jul 12, 2011 19:00:20 GMT -5
Name: Siegfried Fleinnburr
Age: 40
Race: Human
Occupation: Marchwarden
Allegiance: Broddring
Physical Description: Siegfried stands a relatively imposing 6” with broad shoulders and a lean, muscled body. Across his arms and chest scars can be see in a criss-cross pattern of raised flesh, a legacy of twenty years of regular battle. His habit of spending months at a time in the wilds has left him frequently dirty and caring little for his appearance. His dark hair hangs down to his shoulders in a messy tangle of curls and knots, he also frequently sports a feral looking beard and on the rare occasions he does shave it off he is left with uneven and scruffy stubble. His face could never truly be called handsome, rugged maybe, but not handsome. His nose is slightly crooked from numerous breaks and a long scar runs down his left cheek, a reminder of a time when he was found wanting. But none of this is noticeable when one gazes into his eyes, for they are ever changing, at once possessed of an inviting warmth and a flinty cold determination to protect those under his charge.
In stark contrast to his own self, Siegfried scrupulously maintains his equipment to the highest standard, once again proving the old adage “No combat ready unit has ever passed inspection.” His spear is as keen as the wind, his seax ever ready in its sheath, a shield of polished ash held before him and a coat of mail hidden by his grey cloak.
Personality: Siegfried is a man motivated by a sense of duty and a desire to care for the people under his protection. When he is there he can often be seen playing with the younger members of his village or training the young men to take over his role when he eventually falls. However when the horns blow in this distance and he dons the raiment of the Marchwardens, all Siegfried's gaiety falls away. Instead he becomes as stern and unforgiving as the Spine. During these times in the wilds Siegfried becomes almost unrecognisable, a determined man who no longer seems to care about anything but fighting.
This is not the case. Rather it is in these moments that those he knows can truly see how much he cares for them. He is willing to fight on when others would turn and run risking his life to make sure that his village can survive. So deep runs his care for others that he puts aside the memories of war that have haunt him for fifteen years, preferring not to let the ghosts of his past change who he is. But someday, they will catch him.
History: Born in a small village on the Western Marches of Broddring, Siegfried was a carefree child, playing in the woods and village streets. He grew quickly and by the age of 15 he was already one of the strongest lads in the village. As was the custom of his people it was then that young Siegfried began military training with the rest of his contemporaries, learning how to form a shield wall and wield a spear.
After three years of training Siegfried was given cause to test his newfound skills. A small band of Urgals came marauding through the Marches and came upon his village. Rallying to the central square Siegfried stood in the shield wall for the first time. The battle lasted for all of twenty minutes. But they were the most important twenty minutes of Siegfried's life, twenty minutes of blood and slaughter. It was here that Siegfried made his first kill and discovered the savage joy of battle. Afterwards Siegfried made the decision to travel to Teirm and become a soldier. There he trained for seven years, learning much of the craft of war. But it was ever the spear that he took to best, indeed by the age of twenty-five he was so proficient was his spearcraft that he could best many of the garrisons veteran fighters. Here it was that he earned the Ancient Language title Fleinnburr, or “Spearson” in the common tongue.
Then at the age of twenty-five he was sent to war as part of the Blue Divide. Fighting in the last five years of the war Siegfried saw horrors that would break most men. He lost three of his shield brothers to a single elven warrior, before he put a spear thrust through the elf's chest. He saw blood run like rivers on battlefields beyond count and saw far too many of his friends die around him. Even now, a decade later, he can sometimes here their cries in his dreams.
Immediately after the war Siegfried joined the Marchwardens and returned to his old village to help defend it. Two years later he fell in love with, and married, a woman called Dagmir. He spent three blissful years with her, during which time no threats came upon the village. But in the fourth year of his return, as Dagmir was pregnant with their child a threat came that Siegfried could not stand against. A sudden fever spread through the village, killing Dagmir and the child. Siegfried, though filled with grief hid the pain away and returned to his duties. In the last six years he has honed his skills and taken to training the village lads, in place of the son he will not have.
But now, as rumours of war stir and horns are heard on the wind, Siegfried takes up his arms once more and leaves his village. If war is returning, in whatever shape, the Fleinnburr will not be found wanting.
Roleplaying Sample: Taken from Disc Age discage.b1.jcink.com/index.php?showtopic=94&st=0&#entry205
Ankh-Morpork was being attacked, not by a barbarian horde, they wouldn't have been able to cross the river (even with snow-shoes), but by a far more insidious threat. A killer was stalking the streets at night, brutally killing citizens. This was Ankh-Morpork however and the vast majority of the citizens simply shrugged their shoulders at the thought of impending mutilation.
The Wizards of UU however were slightly more worried, being a bunch of paranoid megalomaniacs this was of course normal. However the fact that the Watch wanted them to help divine who the killer was had thoroughly put the wind up them.
Gerald Prendergast strode purposefully toward the main hall, looking like an important and self-possessed man (at least he thought so), however the effect was rather ruined by the fact that he kept throwing furtive glances around every time a student walked anywhere near him. Just as he was about to throw open the doors of the hall and stride in like a god, a sound rang out in the passageway;
"QUACK!"
Spinning on his heel Gerald launched a fireball with unnerving accuracy at the source of the noise sending a student running for his dorm accompanied by the jeers of his colleagues and a burning backside.
"I'll get that duck one of these days." Muttered Gerald, before entering the hall. The other members of the faculty looked up as he entered. Gerald headed to his chair at the great table and sat down as Ridcully began to tell the assembled Wizards precisely why they had been summoned. As he finished, he gestured to the person sitting next to him. Gerald looked up, just as the mystery guest started speaking.
Age: 40
Race: Human
Occupation: Marchwarden
Allegiance: Broddring
Physical Description: Siegfried stands a relatively imposing 6” with broad shoulders and a lean, muscled body. Across his arms and chest scars can be see in a criss-cross pattern of raised flesh, a legacy of twenty years of regular battle. His habit of spending months at a time in the wilds has left him frequently dirty and caring little for his appearance. His dark hair hangs down to his shoulders in a messy tangle of curls and knots, he also frequently sports a feral looking beard and on the rare occasions he does shave it off he is left with uneven and scruffy stubble. His face could never truly be called handsome, rugged maybe, but not handsome. His nose is slightly crooked from numerous breaks and a long scar runs down his left cheek, a reminder of a time when he was found wanting. But none of this is noticeable when one gazes into his eyes, for they are ever changing, at once possessed of an inviting warmth and a flinty cold determination to protect those under his charge.
In stark contrast to his own self, Siegfried scrupulously maintains his equipment to the highest standard, once again proving the old adage “No combat ready unit has ever passed inspection.” His spear is as keen as the wind, his seax ever ready in its sheath, a shield of polished ash held before him and a coat of mail hidden by his grey cloak.
Personality: Siegfried is a man motivated by a sense of duty and a desire to care for the people under his protection. When he is there he can often be seen playing with the younger members of his village or training the young men to take over his role when he eventually falls. However when the horns blow in this distance and he dons the raiment of the Marchwardens, all Siegfried's gaiety falls away. Instead he becomes as stern and unforgiving as the Spine. During these times in the wilds Siegfried becomes almost unrecognisable, a determined man who no longer seems to care about anything but fighting.
This is not the case. Rather it is in these moments that those he knows can truly see how much he cares for them. He is willing to fight on when others would turn and run risking his life to make sure that his village can survive. So deep runs his care for others that he puts aside the memories of war that have haunt him for fifteen years, preferring not to let the ghosts of his past change who he is. But someday, they will catch him.
History: Born in a small village on the Western Marches of Broddring, Siegfried was a carefree child, playing in the woods and village streets. He grew quickly and by the age of 15 he was already one of the strongest lads in the village. As was the custom of his people it was then that young Siegfried began military training with the rest of his contemporaries, learning how to form a shield wall and wield a spear.
After three years of training Siegfried was given cause to test his newfound skills. A small band of Urgals came marauding through the Marches and came upon his village. Rallying to the central square Siegfried stood in the shield wall for the first time. The battle lasted for all of twenty minutes. But they were the most important twenty minutes of Siegfried's life, twenty minutes of blood and slaughter. It was here that Siegfried made his first kill and discovered the savage joy of battle. Afterwards Siegfried made the decision to travel to Teirm and become a soldier. There he trained for seven years, learning much of the craft of war. But it was ever the spear that he took to best, indeed by the age of twenty-five he was so proficient was his spearcraft that he could best many of the garrisons veteran fighters. Here it was that he earned the Ancient Language title Fleinnburr, or “Spearson” in the common tongue.
Then at the age of twenty-five he was sent to war as part of the Blue Divide. Fighting in the last five years of the war Siegfried saw horrors that would break most men. He lost three of his shield brothers to a single elven warrior, before he put a spear thrust through the elf's chest. He saw blood run like rivers on battlefields beyond count and saw far too many of his friends die around him. Even now, a decade later, he can sometimes here their cries in his dreams.
Immediately after the war Siegfried joined the Marchwardens and returned to his old village to help defend it. Two years later he fell in love with, and married, a woman called Dagmir. He spent three blissful years with her, during which time no threats came upon the village. But in the fourth year of his return, as Dagmir was pregnant with their child a threat came that Siegfried could not stand against. A sudden fever spread through the village, killing Dagmir and the child. Siegfried, though filled with grief hid the pain away and returned to his duties. In the last six years he has honed his skills and taken to training the village lads, in place of the son he will not have.
But now, as rumours of war stir and horns are heard on the wind, Siegfried takes up his arms once more and leaves his village. If war is returning, in whatever shape, the Fleinnburr will not be found wanting.
Roleplaying Sample: Taken from Disc Age discage.b1.jcink.com/index.php?showtopic=94&st=0&#entry205
Ankh-Morpork was being attacked, not by a barbarian horde, they wouldn't have been able to cross the river (even with snow-shoes), but by a far more insidious threat. A killer was stalking the streets at night, brutally killing citizens. This was Ankh-Morpork however and the vast majority of the citizens simply shrugged their shoulders at the thought of impending mutilation.
The Wizards of UU however were slightly more worried, being a bunch of paranoid megalomaniacs this was of course normal. However the fact that the Watch wanted them to help divine who the killer was had thoroughly put the wind up them.
Gerald Prendergast strode purposefully toward the main hall, looking like an important and self-possessed man (at least he thought so), however the effect was rather ruined by the fact that he kept throwing furtive glances around every time a student walked anywhere near him. Just as he was about to throw open the doors of the hall and stride in like a god, a sound rang out in the passageway;
"QUACK!"
Spinning on his heel Gerald launched a fireball with unnerving accuracy at the source of the noise sending a student running for his dorm accompanied by the jeers of his colleagues and a burning backside.
"I'll get that duck one of these days." Muttered Gerald, before entering the hall. The other members of the faculty looked up as he entered. Gerald headed to his chair at the great table and sat down as Ridcully began to tell the assembled Wizards precisely why they had been summoned. As he finished, he gestured to the person sitting next to him. Gerald looked up, just as the mystery guest started speaking.
