Post by phrostphyre on Sept 22, 2011 21:24:58 GMT -5
Name: Ari Ravnson, Ari inn Atall. (Ari the Terrible)
Age: 376
Race:Elf
Occupation: Count of Osilon
Allegiance: The Queen.
Physical Description: A blue eye, like the uppermost reaches of the sky on a clear day, is the most striking feature of Ari Ravnson, but there are several. His ears are like all elves, sharp and pointed, yet his seem to somehow be sharper, as if he honed them one night before battle in the off chance he would need them. His nose is sharp too, though not as sharp as his ears. Ravnson's hair is white, like most elves. His eye, though blue, is dispassionate. As if he's detached from the world around him, Ari's gaze is that of an eagle watching a mouse run from the eagle's shadow in an empty field.
Taller and larger built than most elves, Ravnson wears dark clothing at all times, either a reflection of his mood, or simply because he's the Count of Osilon and doesn't care what anyone thinks of how he dresses. His shield is decorated with the neither the symbol of Du Weldenvarden or his family's symbol, but that of Osilon's, a mountain reaching into the sky, as if to reclaim something lost. His sword is not the slim, elegant blade most elves carry, but nor is it the brutal hacking monster the humans carry. It is in between; elegant and beautiful and agile when Ari needs it agile and elegant, and strong, hacking blade when Ari needs it able to hack a tree to pieces.
He possess no armor, instead trusting his skill of blade and shield to protect him. His spear was sung from an ash tree, and the head forged from the blade of a useless sword. Functional, yet with a beauty that is hidden by the plainness.
Personality: Osilon is all Ari Ravnson has nothing left of his family, save his name. Osilon means the world to Ari Ravnson, and if Osilon is threatened, then Ari will strike back to the full extent of his considerable capability. He wants Osilon restored to her former glory, and if Ari can make that happen, then Ari will try, no matter the personal cost.
The Great Game took a toll on him before the Blue Divide, and because of that, Ari is indifferent to the different currents of politics that swirl around the Great Game, although before, he played it with enough skill to have played in his sleep, which he did at one point, to prove he could.
Ravnson is cold. Colder than most elves, he is arrogant, proud, and just slightly cruel. He only cares about Osilon and Ari Ravnson, and Osilon cares for him. His arrogance is reflected in the fact that he never participates in the debacheries expected of nobles and city Counts, although he'll host parties and slip away to work.
History: Born three hundred seventy-six years ago, Ari was a silent child. He never cried or screamed. He instead seemed to know the role he would play in the future, grasping for his father's sword when he was held. He was one of the quietest elven children in Du Weldenvarden, slipping from shadow to shadow, observing. Watching. Learning. Like all elven children, he went to Illirea to study and learn, but he was hopeless at magic, even with the extremely powerful innate ability elven children posses. But he was seemingly born to the sword, and so he excelled at it.
After he finished in Illirea, Ari returned to Osilon and began learning the duties his father expected him to learn, mainly politics and the Great Game. He excelled at both, as he did with the sword, spear, and shield. As the years passed, Ari grew more skilled at the Great Game and was eventually able to play it in his sleep, which he did only once, as a boast to a friend.
At two hundred, Ari found a mate, who he loved more than life itself, and they had two children over the years. He was happy; he had been trained to take his father's place, but that day was far in the future. There were no worries in his world; he had withdrawn as much as possible from the Great Game, and all knew that he had no wish to be drawn back in.
But then the Blue Divide began, and Ari Ravnson's world shattered. His entire family, parents, mate, children, were killed in the second year. He had hoped to avoid the fighting, but after their deaths, he threw himself into the war. He eschewed armor for those weaker than him, and sought death on the battlefield. Every step of the war, he was there. He killed and he fought and he saw men and elves die, but he continued to kill. Eventually, there was no remorse, or pain. Ari Ravnson killed because they had taken everything from him, and so he would take their life. He lost his eye in one of the battles at Osilon, but he considered it well lost, for he took the head of a human general in exchange. His atrocities were terrible, some of the worst of the war. Despite those atrocities, his ability on the battlefield earned him an officer's commission, and from there it was simple work for Ravnson to cut his way through battlefields to a Generalship.
Though his ranks were stained with the blood of thousands of humans, Ari didn't care. He lived for the battle calm to overtake him, where his sword had a life of its own, and he was simply a spectator in his own body. But for the battle calm to happen, Ari needed to fight. And so he fought, but the war slowly wound to a close, and with the war's end, Ari resigned and returned to Osilon, the bearer of an epithet that couldn't comprehend what he had done. Ari inn Atall, Ari the Terrible. But he was only terrible on the battlefield; it proved false once the war had ended and he became Count. He dispensed the law fairly and justly, if coldly.
Ari knows the current peace is uneasy, and doesn't know whether to long for a return to war, or continued peace. He views the Riders as nothing more than cowardly scum, and the fact that they currently hold the general of the elven armies as a captive has done nothing to engender any affection for them in him.
Roleplaying Sample: N/A
Age: 376
Race:Elf
Occupation: Count of Osilon
Allegiance: The Queen.
Physical Description: A blue eye, like the uppermost reaches of the sky on a clear day, is the most striking feature of Ari Ravnson, but there are several. His ears are like all elves, sharp and pointed, yet his seem to somehow be sharper, as if he honed them one night before battle in the off chance he would need them. His nose is sharp too, though not as sharp as his ears. Ravnson's hair is white, like most elves. His eye, though blue, is dispassionate. As if he's detached from the world around him, Ari's gaze is that of an eagle watching a mouse run from the eagle's shadow in an empty field.
Taller and larger built than most elves, Ravnson wears dark clothing at all times, either a reflection of his mood, or simply because he's the Count of Osilon and doesn't care what anyone thinks of how he dresses. His shield is decorated with the neither the symbol of Du Weldenvarden or his family's symbol, but that of Osilon's, a mountain reaching into the sky, as if to reclaim something lost. His sword is not the slim, elegant blade most elves carry, but nor is it the brutal hacking monster the humans carry. It is in between; elegant and beautiful and agile when Ari needs it agile and elegant, and strong, hacking blade when Ari needs it able to hack a tree to pieces.
He possess no armor, instead trusting his skill of blade and shield to protect him. His spear was sung from an ash tree, and the head forged from the blade of a useless sword. Functional, yet with a beauty that is hidden by the plainness.
Personality: Osilon is all Ari Ravnson has nothing left of his family, save his name. Osilon means the world to Ari Ravnson, and if Osilon is threatened, then Ari will strike back to the full extent of his considerable capability. He wants Osilon restored to her former glory, and if Ari can make that happen, then Ari will try, no matter the personal cost.
The Great Game took a toll on him before the Blue Divide, and because of that, Ari is indifferent to the different currents of politics that swirl around the Great Game, although before, he played it with enough skill to have played in his sleep, which he did at one point, to prove he could.
Ravnson is cold. Colder than most elves, he is arrogant, proud, and just slightly cruel. He only cares about Osilon and Ari Ravnson, and Osilon cares for him. His arrogance is reflected in the fact that he never participates in the debacheries expected of nobles and city Counts, although he'll host parties and slip away to work.
History: Born three hundred seventy-six years ago, Ari was a silent child. He never cried or screamed. He instead seemed to know the role he would play in the future, grasping for his father's sword when he was held. He was one of the quietest elven children in Du Weldenvarden, slipping from shadow to shadow, observing. Watching. Learning. Like all elven children, he went to Illirea to study and learn, but he was hopeless at magic, even with the extremely powerful innate ability elven children posses. But he was seemingly born to the sword, and so he excelled at it.
After he finished in Illirea, Ari returned to Osilon and began learning the duties his father expected him to learn, mainly politics and the Great Game. He excelled at both, as he did with the sword, spear, and shield. As the years passed, Ari grew more skilled at the Great Game and was eventually able to play it in his sleep, which he did only once, as a boast to a friend.
At two hundred, Ari found a mate, who he loved more than life itself, and they had two children over the years. He was happy; he had been trained to take his father's place, but that day was far in the future. There were no worries in his world; he had withdrawn as much as possible from the Great Game, and all knew that he had no wish to be drawn back in.
But then the Blue Divide began, and Ari Ravnson's world shattered. His entire family, parents, mate, children, were killed in the second year. He had hoped to avoid the fighting, but after their deaths, he threw himself into the war. He eschewed armor for those weaker than him, and sought death on the battlefield. Every step of the war, he was there. He killed and he fought and he saw men and elves die, but he continued to kill. Eventually, there was no remorse, or pain. Ari Ravnson killed because they had taken everything from him, and so he would take their life. He lost his eye in one of the battles at Osilon, but he considered it well lost, for he took the head of a human general in exchange. His atrocities were terrible, some of the worst of the war. Despite those atrocities, his ability on the battlefield earned him an officer's commission, and from there it was simple work for Ravnson to cut his way through battlefields to a Generalship.
Though his ranks were stained with the blood of thousands of humans, Ari didn't care. He lived for the battle calm to overtake him, where his sword had a life of its own, and he was simply a spectator in his own body. But for the battle calm to happen, Ari needed to fight. And so he fought, but the war slowly wound to a close, and with the war's end, Ari resigned and returned to Osilon, the bearer of an epithet that couldn't comprehend what he had done. Ari inn Atall, Ari the Terrible. But he was only terrible on the battlefield; it proved false once the war had ended and he became Count. He dispensed the law fairly and justly, if coldly.
Ari knows the current peace is uneasy, and doesn't know whether to long for a return to war, or continued peace. He views the Riders as nothing more than cowardly scum, and the fact that they currently hold the general of the elven armies as a captive has done nothing to engender any affection for them in him.
Roleplaying Sample: N/A
