Post by sacredfang on Nov 14, 2010 2:59:30 GMT -5
Name: Zaanroth "Zaan" Vindefang
Age: 40
Race: Human
Occupation: Blacksmith, trainer, informant for the government
Allegiance: Broddring
Physical Description:
Zaanroth is a rather tall man standing easily at 6'8", and weighing in at a healty 290 pounds of muscle he forms an unmistakeable wall of power. His skin is a burnt tan color from his time on the battle field and in front of his smithy. His entire body is covered with with scars of all sizes and types ranging from arrow wounds to a particularly nasty scar that froms a cresent moon shape on his torso that he gained when he was fifteen when he agrivated his master alexanderson after a night of binge drinking and the man took a knife a carved his displeasure into Zaanroth. His destroyed eye and scalp is covered by a iron mask, that he polishes every morning, that wraps around and over the damaged part of his head ending in a spike at the base of his head. on the mask is an etching of a flaming winged demon trapped by vines that he colored green by melting a complex combination of minerals and metal into the design. What is visable of his face his guant giving him the appearance of being far older than he is. The lower half of his face is hidden behind a short red greying beard. his lone eye is a sharp blue and always appears as if its boring into your soul when he looks at you. His hair on the right side of his is a brilliant red with some grey streaks that reach to the base of his neck. When smithing he only wears a pair of rough heavy dark brown pants. In public he dons a dark red shirt with green vines swean into the sleeves of his shirt and a pair of lather gloves that rach up to his elbow hiding sever burns from a accident at the forge, and a bright orange sleeveless vest that reaches to his waist in the front but the sides and back reach to the middle of his thighs with slits cut to the waist sepearating the sides from the back. On top of this he dones a long orange tinted rope that he ties at the back of his waist that rechs down to his mid calfs and is heavily frayed out almost giving him the appearance of having two orange ropy tails. Tied into his belt vertically along the back of the rope is a long straight single edged blade of his own making that totals a rather large 5' four of which being just the blade the other foot being the hilt the unique factor is intead of a normal gaurd he created a thick knuckle buster styled guard from the top to the hilt to the pomel the blade its self its black steel that while not very wide from the back to the edge the blade is exteremly dense. on his feet is a pair of heavy leather boots. In war time combat he dons a heavy duty set of orange tinted armor designed for his left side including a heavy guantlet that goes from his neck to his finger tips. Custom designed he forged the guantlet with a massive cicluar shield on his fore arm and a creasent shaped shield on his shoulder with a half armored collar reaching up to his mask protecting the left side of his neck and face. On his left his is a armored plating that loosely hangs past his knee meant to stop attacks with heavy spiked plate greaves, on top of that he wears thick armor leather over the rest of his body covered by a green coat that reaches to his ankles hiding it, leaving only the armor on his right side visable. During war time he replaces his sword with a heavy custom weapon pertaining of a short spear like shaft and a three foot double edged blade thick enough to endure extreme impacts and sharp enough to cleave through armor.
Personality:
Seemly cold to the world he hides the turmoil that he goes through every day and the kind but insecure reality of himself. He still carries himself with a feeling of pride that many majors in the military gain. Still holding the belief hammered into that your assignment weather it be a special request at the forge or a a request from a friend. Skilled in weapons he has an abnormal lack of respect for anything that he himself has not made or is not of expert quality.
Tolerant to an extreme he is very slow to anger and even then he would rather solve a conflict without the need for steel. Still tied to the military as an informant he holds very little loyalty to most of his customers instead compliling a bi-weekly report of anything of importance that he gives to his contact in the miliary. Disconnected from people he lives in solitude only taking time out of his day to train his apprentaces, while grueling his training never goes so far as to truely harm his students even in combat training only applying enough pressure to make them slip into unconcious bliss, while his blacksmithing students are only harmed when they cause an item to violently shatter or they burn themselves when they fail to head his warnings. The only thing to truely anger him is seeing someone performing an act that he views as unhonorable or immoral, acts such as violence against a non-combatant, rape, or anything that meets similar standards. His past is his ultimate achellies heel especially since his memories of the past keep him from sleeping more than a few hours at a time excluding when his body gives out and he falls asleep for 24 hours on a monthly bases.
History:
Zaanroth "Zaan" Vindefang, born to two individuals that he has no recollection of be it name or face in kuasta, abandoned as an infant in the middle of a teirm . Hours after his adbandonment his cry attracted a blacksmith from Carvala named Alexanderson Larson. Which took in as his own and raised him under a strict and brutal enviornment.
From the age of five when Zaanroth was strong enough to pick up a hammer alexanderson took to teaching him the fine art of blacksmithing any thing and everything ranging from silverwar to farming implements to weapons, during the tourture that alexanderson called training Zaanroth found he had a calling to both the smithy and to the blade while his skills as a farmer were substandard. By the age of ten he was able to perform works of blacksmithing that would endure the wear and tear of harsh use ,and had developed the strength of some one easily half again his age. His body had developed a pletoria of scars from a combination of his own errors in smithing and his master beating him for those very mistakes with whatever was close to hand.
After six more years he achieved the rank of journyman in the art of blacksmithing even begining to develope a style of his own that evoked emotion in the user and those around them through various methods including introducing colored ashes, minerals, and oars to the smelthing process. At the age of sixteen he came to the desicion that the right and proper thing to do would be joining the military. Leaving his master which he would later find out was graphically murdered by the town people after one drunken night though what he did no one would say
He soon found that his body strenghtened by his harsh childhood was perfect for the military. What he lacked in pure speed he made up for his strength, hand speed, coordination, and raw wit. he very quickly found that he rather destested his choice to join and found sanctuary alone. Reclusive from his years of "training" both military and other, he spent most of his time learning how to use any weapon he got his hands on be it from battle or purchased. Once he learned the weapon no matter how fine the master work of it he would study the weapon before disecting it to see how it was made, earning him a rather large debt to the military due to this habit that he spent the total of his fourteen years of service paying off. The only person he would talk to was his direct superior, answering orders without question from others, and speaking to his fellow soldiers with only one word sentences.
Though skilled in battle he was forced to quick after a grevious injury. During a battle he took a flaming blunt object to the left upperside of his head destroying his left eye and buring away the scalp and hair on that side of his head. Deamed as useless to the military he was released from his service even after achieving the rank of major.
Over the following three years he began a long hard rehabilitation process. After that time when he regained the abilty to properly function and took up the hammer again smithing and even relearning how to fight. This process required him pushing his senses far beyond that of a normal person.
Attaining the rank of master he opened a shop in Carvala. Selling daily wares and weapons while taking special requests from individuals in the military producing weapons that while heavier than most were far sharper and worlds stronger than what many were used to. On the side he would subtlely provide the government with information aquired from his clients due to their incesant rattling on about any topic that came to mind, viewing him as a harmless blacksmith. Along with smithing he supplaments his income by training blacksmith apprentaces and even training warriors be they military or the commoner looking to become a mercenary.
Rp Example:
The moon is high in the sky as Zaan jerks out of bed his eye lone eye wide and the pupil constricted to an extreme. His face contorted in a look of rage as his left hand reaches up and touched the left side of his face the burnt tissue of his hand brushing against the burnt tissue and empty eye socket of the left side of his head. His face taking a pained look as he looks out the window next to his bed on the second floor of his shop seeing the moon high in the sky still he sighs "going to be a very long day." Slidding out of bed he grabs the flint a steel next to his bed and strikes it next to a small nearly burned out candle. Using the light he grabs his mask and a cloth doing his best to polish it before putting it on and walking down stairs. Grabbing his leather pants he puts them on and walks to his forge. Grabbing his hammer he lights the forge up and starts the final leg of a special request. It seems that some ranking military officer wanted a pitch black sword. taking a lump of steel he previously prepaired he melts it down before adding the additives to give it a solid color. The sounds of his hammer striking metal echoing loud and clear till sunrise.
Age: 40
Race: Human
Occupation: Blacksmith, trainer, informant for the government
Allegiance: Broddring
Physical Description:
Zaanroth is a rather tall man standing easily at 6'8", and weighing in at a healty 290 pounds of muscle he forms an unmistakeable wall of power. His skin is a burnt tan color from his time on the battle field and in front of his smithy. His entire body is covered with with scars of all sizes and types ranging from arrow wounds to a particularly nasty scar that froms a cresent moon shape on his torso that he gained when he was fifteen when he agrivated his master alexanderson after a night of binge drinking and the man took a knife a carved his displeasure into Zaanroth. His destroyed eye and scalp is covered by a iron mask, that he polishes every morning, that wraps around and over the damaged part of his head ending in a spike at the base of his head. on the mask is an etching of a flaming winged demon trapped by vines that he colored green by melting a complex combination of minerals and metal into the design. What is visable of his face his guant giving him the appearance of being far older than he is. The lower half of his face is hidden behind a short red greying beard. his lone eye is a sharp blue and always appears as if its boring into your soul when he looks at you. His hair on the right side of his is a brilliant red with some grey streaks that reach to the base of his neck. When smithing he only wears a pair of rough heavy dark brown pants. In public he dons a dark red shirt with green vines swean into the sleeves of his shirt and a pair of lather gloves that rach up to his elbow hiding sever burns from a accident at the forge, and a bright orange sleeveless vest that reaches to his waist in the front but the sides and back reach to the middle of his thighs with slits cut to the waist sepearating the sides from the back. On top of this he dones a long orange tinted rope that he ties at the back of his waist that rechs down to his mid calfs and is heavily frayed out almost giving him the appearance of having two orange ropy tails. Tied into his belt vertically along the back of the rope is a long straight single edged blade of his own making that totals a rather large 5' four of which being just the blade the other foot being the hilt the unique factor is intead of a normal gaurd he created a thick knuckle buster styled guard from the top to the hilt to the pomel the blade its self its black steel that while not very wide from the back to the edge the blade is exteremly dense. on his feet is a pair of heavy leather boots. In war time combat he dons a heavy duty set of orange tinted armor designed for his left side including a heavy guantlet that goes from his neck to his finger tips. Custom designed he forged the guantlet with a massive cicluar shield on his fore arm and a creasent shaped shield on his shoulder with a half armored collar reaching up to his mask protecting the left side of his neck and face. On his left his is a armored plating that loosely hangs past his knee meant to stop attacks with heavy spiked plate greaves, on top of that he wears thick armor leather over the rest of his body covered by a green coat that reaches to his ankles hiding it, leaving only the armor on his right side visable. During war time he replaces his sword with a heavy custom weapon pertaining of a short spear like shaft and a three foot double edged blade thick enough to endure extreme impacts and sharp enough to cleave through armor.
Personality:
Seemly cold to the world he hides the turmoil that he goes through every day and the kind but insecure reality of himself. He still carries himself with a feeling of pride that many majors in the military gain. Still holding the belief hammered into that your assignment weather it be a special request at the forge or a a request from a friend. Skilled in weapons he has an abnormal lack of respect for anything that he himself has not made or is not of expert quality.
Tolerant to an extreme he is very slow to anger and even then he would rather solve a conflict without the need for steel. Still tied to the military as an informant he holds very little loyalty to most of his customers instead compliling a bi-weekly report of anything of importance that he gives to his contact in the miliary. Disconnected from people he lives in solitude only taking time out of his day to train his apprentaces, while grueling his training never goes so far as to truely harm his students even in combat training only applying enough pressure to make them slip into unconcious bliss, while his blacksmithing students are only harmed when they cause an item to violently shatter or they burn themselves when they fail to head his warnings. The only thing to truely anger him is seeing someone performing an act that he views as unhonorable or immoral, acts such as violence against a non-combatant, rape, or anything that meets similar standards. His past is his ultimate achellies heel especially since his memories of the past keep him from sleeping more than a few hours at a time excluding when his body gives out and he falls asleep for 24 hours on a monthly bases.
History:
Zaanroth "Zaan" Vindefang, born to two individuals that he has no recollection of be it name or face in kuasta, abandoned as an infant in the middle of a teirm . Hours after his adbandonment his cry attracted a blacksmith from Carvala named Alexanderson Larson. Which took in as his own and raised him under a strict and brutal enviornment.
From the age of five when Zaanroth was strong enough to pick up a hammer alexanderson took to teaching him the fine art of blacksmithing any thing and everything ranging from silverwar to farming implements to weapons, during the tourture that alexanderson called training Zaanroth found he had a calling to both the smithy and to the blade while his skills as a farmer were substandard. By the age of ten he was able to perform works of blacksmithing that would endure the wear and tear of harsh use ,and had developed the strength of some one easily half again his age. His body had developed a pletoria of scars from a combination of his own errors in smithing and his master beating him for those very mistakes with whatever was close to hand.
After six more years he achieved the rank of journyman in the art of blacksmithing even begining to develope a style of his own that evoked emotion in the user and those around them through various methods including introducing colored ashes, minerals, and oars to the smelthing process. At the age of sixteen he came to the desicion that the right and proper thing to do would be joining the military. Leaving his master which he would later find out was graphically murdered by the town people after one drunken night though what he did no one would say
He soon found that his body strenghtened by his harsh childhood was perfect for the military. What he lacked in pure speed he made up for his strength, hand speed, coordination, and raw wit. he very quickly found that he rather destested his choice to join and found sanctuary alone. Reclusive from his years of "training" both military and other, he spent most of his time learning how to use any weapon he got his hands on be it from battle or purchased. Once he learned the weapon no matter how fine the master work of it he would study the weapon before disecting it to see how it was made, earning him a rather large debt to the military due to this habit that he spent the total of his fourteen years of service paying off. The only person he would talk to was his direct superior, answering orders without question from others, and speaking to his fellow soldiers with only one word sentences.
Though skilled in battle he was forced to quick after a grevious injury. During a battle he took a flaming blunt object to the left upperside of his head destroying his left eye and buring away the scalp and hair on that side of his head. Deamed as useless to the military he was released from his service even after achieving the rank of major.
Over the following three years he began a long hard rehabilitation process. After that time when he regained the abilty to properly function and took up the hammer again smithing and even relearning how to fight. This process required him pushing his senses far beyond that of a normal person.
Attaining the rank of master he opened a shop in Carvala. Selling daily wares and weapons while taking special requests from individuals in the military producing weapons that while heavier than most were far sharper and worlds stronger than what many were used to. On the side he would subtlely provide the government with information aquired from his clients due to their incesant rattling on about any topic that came to mind, viewing him as a harmless blacksmith. Along with smithing he supplaments his income by training blacksmith apprentaces and even training warriors be they military or the commoner looking to become a mercenary.
Rp Example:
The moon is high in the sky as Zaan jerks out of bed his eye lone eye wide and the pupil constricted to an extreme. His face contorted in a look of rage as his left hand reaches up and touched the left side of his face the burnt tissue of his hand brushing against the burnt tissue and empty eye socket of the left side of his head. His face taking a pained look as he looks out the window next to his bed on the second floor of his shop seeing the moon high in the sky still he sighs "going to be a very long day." Slidding out of bed he grabs the flint a steel next to his bed and strikes it next to a small nearly burned out candle. Using the light he grabs his mask and a cloth doing his best to polish it before putting it on and walking down stairs. Grabbing his leather pants he puts them on and walks to his forge. Grabbing his hammer he lights the forge up and starts the final leg of a special request. It seems that some ranking military officer wanted a pitch black sword. taking a lump of steel he previously prepaired he melts it down before adding the additives to give it a solid color. The sounds of his hammer striking metal echoing loud and clear till sunrise.
