Post by apollo on Jan 8, 2012 3:24:57 GMT -5
Name: Terrowin
Age: 26
Race: Human
Occupation: Mainly a rogue, though he gets by on secret deals, occasional thievery, and living off of the land. He can sometimes be bribed into being hired as an assassin or slayer, but usually only if the pay is good and the deed isn't too sick. He's a good man at heart, but he has to make a living.
Allegiance: Grudgingly Broddring, although he would rather not admit it. He has no love for the ruling nobility, but to live completely alone, he knows, would be suicide.
Physical Description:
(Thanks Dominic Monaghan!)
My drawing: silverdrako.deviantart.com/#/d4g2z5g
At a height of only 5'8" and with a lean build, Terrowin lacks the build and height to be imposing. His dirty blonde hair, murky teal eyes, and easy grin add to the air of nonchalance and harmlessness, although he's not always as peaceful as he seems. A thin layer of dark stubble is always present on his face, and he tends to wear dark, neutral colors of brown, green, or black. He always has a cache of weapons on hand, whether it be a bow, his sword, Moarte, or hidden daggers and blades of any sort. An assortment of scars run over his body from past scuffles with unnamed beasts, and he has one on his left thigh that often causes him pain, sometimes to the point of unconsciousness.
Personality: What Terrowin may lack in looks and stature, he makes up for in charm. His easygoing grin, slightly warped accent, thirst for adventure, and tendency to get in harm's way make him very likable to some, and irritating to others. He calls himself a ladies' man (although he tends to get smacked more often than kissed), and enjoys the presence of small groups over large crowds. Though he has to get by sometimes on thievery and pick-pocketing, he prefers to take profits away from the government rather than innocent civilians if possible, and prefers the killing of dark creatures or beasts over humans when he is hired as a slayer. Even though his lifestyle isn't the brightest, he doesn't mind living as more of an outsider than a regular citizen, and would be more than happy to see the government overthrown.
He also has a fear of heights and small places, and can be clumsy at the worst of times.
History: WIP
Roleplaying Sample:
((This won't make sense to anyone, as it's from an old roleplay, but it sums up Terrowin's personality (and accent!) quite well.))
Terrowin winked at Myio innocently. "Just checked tae make sure yer nails didn't get chipped, princess," he teased her, feeling cheeky. "Naw, spears ain't nothin' compared tae demons throwin' lightning and poisoned daggers at ya, that's fer sure. Could'a blocked 'em all if Oi had the chance, ya know. Nothin' like a good ol' game of dodge the spear tae get yer blood pumpin'." He reached out and ruffled her hair playfully, only later wondering if he had gone to far. "Ye need someone tae look after ya!" Even though Oi have trouble lookin' out fer myself, he chuckled inwardly.
He rolled his eyes at the desert chaser. "Oh, Oi'll call ye wot Oi want, ya overgrown squirrel." He stopped as the dragon's eyes widened in genuine alarm, and his mood sobered. "Wot is it?" he asked, looking to the dark spot on the horizon. "A dust devil?" Now that he looked again, it did indeed look like a storm, and he cursed out loud. "Bloody 'ell, Myio, ye know how nasty those things are," he said to her. While in the bandit crew, they had run into their share of the dusty storms, and they were never pleasant, and sometimes bordered on dangerous. In the past, they had just had to hunker down and let them pass; there wasn't a lot more you could do. But here, they had no wagons, no tents, nothing to keep them out of the wind and flying sand except for a donkey, a cart, some dragons, and a useless tomb entrance. "Wot do ye suggest we do?" he asked, directing the question at not only Syn, but also the other dragons. They had lived in the desert as well - maybe they had an idea.
Age: 26
Race: Human
Occupation: Mainly a rogue, though he gets by on secret deals, occasional thievery, and living off of the land. He can sometimes be bribed into being hired as an assassin or slayer, but usually only if the pay is good and the deed isn't too sick. He's a good man at heart, but he has to make a living.
Allegiance: Grudgingly Broddring, although he would rather not admit it. He has no love for the ruling nobility, but to live completely alone, he knows, would be suicide.
Physical Description:
(Thanks Dominic Monaghan!)
My drawing: silverdrako.deviantart.com/#/d4g2z5g
At a height of only 5'8" and with a lean build, Terrowin lacks the build and height to be imposing. His dirty blonde hair, murky teal eyes, and easy grin add to the air of nonchalance and harmlessness, although he's not always as peaceful as he seems. A thin layer of dark stubble is always present on his face, and he tends to wear dark, neutral colors of brown, green, or black. He always has a cache of weapons on hand, whether it be a bow, his sword, Moarte, or hidden daggers and blades of any sort. An assortment of scars run over his body from past scuffles with unnamed beasts, and he has one on his left thigh that often causes him pain, sometimes to the point of unconsciousness.
Personality: What Terrowin may lack in looks and stature, he makes up for in charm. His easygoing grin, slightly warped accent, thirst for adventure, and tendency to get in harm's way make him very likable to some, and irritating to others. He calls himself a ladies' man (although he tends to get smacked more often than kissed), and enjoys the presence of small groups over large crowds. Though he has to get by sometimes on thievery and pick-pocketing, he prefers to take profits away from the government rather than innocent civilians if possible, and prefers the killing of dark creatures or beasts over humans when he is hired as a slayer. Even though his lifestyle isn't the brightest, he doesn't mind living as more of an outsider than a regular citizen, and would be more than happy to see the government overthrown.
He also has a fear of heights and small places, and can be clumsy at the worst of times.
History: WIP
Roleplaying Sample:
((This won't make sense to anyone, as it's from an old roleplay, but it sums up Terrowin's personality (and accent!) quite well.))
Terrowin winked at Myio innocently. "Just checked tae make sure yer nails didn't get chipped, princess," he teased her, feeling cheeky. "Naw, spears ain't nothin' compared tae demons throwin' lightning and poisoned daggers at ya, that's fer sure. Could'a blocked 'em all if Oi had the chance, ya know. Nothin' like a good ol' game of dodge the spear tae get yer blood pumpin'." He reached out and ruffled her hair playfully, only later wondering if he had gone to far. "Ye need someone tae look after ya!" Even though Oi have trouble lookin' out fer myself, he chuckled inwardly.
He rolled his eyes at the desert chaser. "Oh, Oi'll call ye wot Oi want, ya overgrown squirrel." He stopped as the dragon's eyes widened in genuine alarm, and his mood sobered. "Wot is it?" he asked, looking to the dark spot on the horizon. "A dust devil?" Now that he looked again, it did indeed look like a storm, and he cursed out loud. "Bloody 'ell, Myio, ye know how nasty those things are," he said to her. While in the bandit crew, they had run into their share of the dusty storms, and they were never pleasant, and sometimes bordered on dangerous. In the past, they had just had to hunker down and let them pass; there wasn't a lot more you could do. But here, they had no wagons, no tents, nothing to keep them out of the wind and flying sand except for a donkey, a cart, some dragons, and a useless tomb entrance. "Wot do ye suggest we do?" he asked, directing the question at not only Syn, but also the other dragons. They had lived in the desert as well - maybe they had an idea.