Post by The Blacksmith on Oct 8, 2008 4:18:38 GMT
Name: Syolkiir (Elvish for Wild Star-Current name), Calendraug (Elvish for “Green Wolf”, a name given to him by the Elves) Real name unknown
Race: Half-breed (Half orc/Half Elf)
Class: Rogue
Gender: Male
Age: 175
Realm: Mirivar
Nature: Born of two conflicting races, Calendraug’s nature is unpredictable and dark. Most see him as someone in the middle of the road with no allegiance to anyone but himself, but that is only an act. What goes inside his mind stays inside his mind and he hides everything in plain sight.
Appearance: Calendraug is a tall hulk, standing 6’6” with a weight of 210 pounds, magnificently muscular with tan skin, though slender thanks to his long limbs. He has this medium-long green hair that slicks back just above his shoulders, a pair of pupilless golden hawk-like eyes, sharp elf-like ears, and stern facial features with a sleek softness. He’s beautiful by no means, but in better terms would look “manly” in the eyes of a human. He even has a green stubble beard. What makes him stand out besides his size are the long fangs that can be seen any moment he opens his mouth. They are one of the reasons he is called Calendraug.
Personality: Calendraug’s personality is difficult to perceive as he wears many mask of deception. His ability to act is uncanny and often believed; however, he has absolutely no sense of humor and has never even been seen chuckling at what is deemed an irrefutable tale of hilarity. His tongue may have moments of quick wit that have men barking in its truth, but there is often no sarcasm in his voice. Of course, he is not a stiff by any means, it simply appears there is always something on his mind he thinks is more important than busting out laughing.
There’s also his wandering eyes that, in truth, do no wander without purpose. He takes note of all details and is articulate. Even then, trying to understand what is behind his eyes is not an easy task.
Face -
- general shape: Tall, muscular, yet slender
- jaw: Thick, but narrow
- eyes: Sharp, piercing, golden
- brows: Straight
- ears: Elvish
- nose: Normal with flat under the center of his brow
- teeth: Normal with sharp fangs an inch in a half long
Body -
- limbs: Long, slender, tough
- torso: Completely ripped
- build: Muscular and long
Attire -
- general: Deep green sleeveless wool shirt, loose gray leather pants with thick black belt, black Elven shin-high boots, and a deep green cloak.
- jewelry: An Elven ring (mithril) on the pinky finger of his left hand
- equipment: Great bow with thirty-five arrows, a Dwarven dirk at his belt, and an Elven bastard sword. He also has Elven armguards and greaves, along with a chain-mail shirt he has packed away.
Detailed Description of Weapons/Armor:
-Elven Bastard sword: A finely crafted longsword 47 inches long, barely 2 pounds in weight, and with the sharpest edge an Elf blacksmith could give such a weapon. The handle is 11 inches long with a wolf pummel and green leather wrapped around the grip. The guard is a mere connector from the cross-section to the handle as there are no cross-guards either. The blade itself is double-edged and made of an Elven black steel that is rarely used due to the darkness it absorbs, especially thanks to the Elvish carvings that are over the main circumference on the sword. This also means there is an enchantment on the sword, which gives it the ability to cast its darkness onto any living creature near except its master. It’s an influence that whispers with a voice of the black tongue. Syolkiir has named the sword Moramarth, which is Elvish for Black Doom.
-Dwarven Dirk: This dirk is something that has been with him since his youth, which was given to him from his mother a few years before she was taken away. It’s made of a fine blue steel with a thin chrome layer to keep it sharp and from rusting over many years. The grip is only 4 inches long with a plain black leather wrap and has a unique cross-guard that is just a pointy prong that is half the blades’ length. It has no name.
-Great Bow with Arrows: A black bow of Orcish origin, it’s only 3 in a half feet long and over two inches wide at the center grip. The bowstring itself is made of a spider’s silk that doesn’t lose density or strength to create a powerful resistance once stretched. The arrows vary in size and color, black arrows having the thickest shafts, green the average size, and white arrows skinnier and have round tipped points instead of traditional arrowhead. Each set of arrows has their own pouch to keep from confusing which arrow he reaches for. (There are 5 Black arrows, 15 Green arrows, and 15 white arrows.) The bow is named Gurth No’Maur, Elvish for “Death on Wings”.
-Chain-Mail Shirt: A normal shirt of chain-mail.
Detailed Description of Misc. Items:
-Elven Ring: This mithril ring, named Vanim En’Rin (Beauty of Remembrance), is an item stolen from a passing coach Calendraug had raided. It has an enchantment that protects his mind from evasion or any outside influence, particularly from various magic of the tongue.
Abilities:
-Magic Abilities: From his Elf blood, Syolkiir has a handful of mid-level abilities which include husbandry (earth magic), enchanted singing, illusion magic, mind-manipulation (whispering influence, though not as strong as the enchantment on his sword), and even some drow magics.
History: Calendraug’s birth came a common incident in older times when orcs raided smaller Elvish villages. After a village was sacked, any Elven women would be used as sleepers and then killed to be eaten, except in one case where one Elven girl escaped through some suspicious circumstances. This girl was able to return to one of the larger Elven cities, where she quickly found out she was pregnant. Instead of aborting the child like the laws dictate, she married another Elf and was quick to claim she was pregnant.
Two years pass and Calendraug was born, except the Elder’s found an omen among the stars and cursed the birth. They forced her into exile along with her child where she lived for seventy-one more years before bandits finally found their home and took her to be bought into slavery. Calendraug had just entered his youth and was forced how to learn to live on the land around him, though Calendraug was quite successful in living on his own and was a natural at hunting. He lived for another fifty-three years before deciding to leave his homeland.
Among his travels, Calendraug was able to pick up many other skills, including writing, reading, fishing, appraising, carpentry, and many things that would often only be available for the rich and noble. As a young adult, he was sharp tongued and often liked around both the outcast of society and the upper-class people, though the half-breed never developed a sense of humor.
Another decade into his new life, he had his first taste of love after a recent shipment of slaves came into the current port he was stationed at. There was an Elven girl with similar tan skin and the whitest golden hair that drew him into her gaze. An obsession loomed over him and he soon found himself talking to the captain before the auction was to take place, hoping to get a good deal. Unfortunately, since the elf girl was the best out of the lot, the price was too high and Calendraug’s savings over the years was barely a third of the sum. When he begged the captain to reconsider, he soon became violent and was forced out.
That night he had found himself at the auction and was drunk, anger dwelling inside while he watched each slave being sold off. Finally, after an hour, the captain brought the Elf girl as the last slave to be sold and the bidding was quick to rise to high numbers with men shouting furiously to get such a fine prize. It was at the last moment when one of the auctioneers made such a generous price the captain was quick to accept the bid before anyone could counter his bet.
“Sold!” The captain said, tugging on the girl’s chains to bring her the winner. As the elf yelped and winced in pain, her sounds alerted Calendraug much like an animal warning another of its herd of nearing danger. And that same moment, something snapped and next Calendraug was forcing himself through the crowd towards the captain. When the captain saw Calendraug pacing towards him, he shouted to his crewmen to stop him from coming any further, unknowingly he was about to unleash something even Calendraug didn’t know about.
The sailors were quick to understand that a man as tall as Calendraug wasn’t going to be a pushover and surrounded him to overwhelm the half-breed in greater numbers. Two of them reached around his body to lock him within a grip while a third sailor moved in to swing a right hook into Calendraug’s chin. The punch acted like a trigger to the storm circling inside Calendraug’s mind as he broke out in frenzy and reached around the two men holding him with his long arms to grab their heads, smashing their faces into the floor. Immediately, he lunged forward to shove the third man into a group of others and resumed his rampage towards the captain. Three more men with swords moved out to protect the captain, but didn’t even see what happened next.
Calendraug was much quicker than expected and had lunged his dirk into one of the sailor’s chest, other arm locked onto the sailor’s wrist to keep the man from using his sword. Then he threw the body in the direction of the other two sailors, missing one. The last sailor leapt forward to thrust towards Calendraug’s ribs, but missed within inches as a dirk was thrown into his throat.
The captain was running towards the back door with the elf girl almost be dragged behind him when a sword came flying by his head, barely scratching his scalp as he looked back to see Calendraug picking up another blade to throw a second time. He was around a corner when the captain heard another blood-curdling roar followed with the sounds of his men crying out for mercy, then Calendraug bursting around the corner into a wall in his drunken rage, almost falling over. Bloody sword in hand, Calendraug was quick to recover and ran after the captain as the coward was escaping out the back door.
Once outside, Calendraug scanned the area until he saw the captain pulling a man off his horse and trying to force the slave into the saddle. The half-breed rushed over just as the seaman was sliding his foot into the stirrup and slashed at his leg, the man reactively falling backwards and slamming into the ground. Calendraug stopped to look at the elf girl as she sat there shaking, and then back down at the captain. He didn’t think twice as he brought the sword overhead and struck down at the captain’s ribs, feeling the sword chink against the ground beneath him.
The sound of men shouting alerted him and he jumped onto the saddle, wrapping one arm around the girl as he dug his heels into the horses’ sides and was off.
Months went by with the two of them forced into hiding, Calendraug finding himself at a loss, as he was unable to find the courage to reveal any emotions to this beautiful elf. The girl most of the time wouldn’t speak to him in fear of what he might do, though she never let him touch her. All of that changed one day when Calendraug was using her as bait out on an open road, waiting for a coach to come crawling to a defenseless damsel in distress.
An hour into the ploy, Calendraug caught sight of a coach decorated in royal silk and quickly hid himself in wait. At first he felt sure they were going to slow to a halt, but as the horses showed no sign of stopping, worry began to build as the coach neared the girl. When he realized she was going to be stampeded, he ran from behind the bush with a large rock in hand and slung it as hard as he could. The stone was as accurate as could be and crushed into the side of one of the horses’ heads, forcing the horse the crash into the second horse and then flip the coach on the side. With dirk in hand, Calendraug ripped open the coach door and killed two noble men inside in the same kind of fury he had back at the auction house.
Getting out of the coach, he saw the elf girl sitting over the horse, as it lay dead from the blow to the head. After looting what he could find, which included some jewelry and an Elven bastard sword, he walked over to the girl and apologized for what he had done, trying to explain he had no other choice. He knew he couldn’t stop her from crying, so without wanting to start an argument, the two of them left before anyone could report what Calendraug had done.
That evening with the treasure in hand, he came to her after summoning up all of his strength to pour out everything that he had bottled up over the months. When he was finished, he gave her an Elven ring and waited for her response. After a short moment of silence, she told him her name, Ilyrana, and also spoke to him of her pity for what he was going through. The things she sensed about him scared her, but at the same time, Ilyrana wanted to help Calendraug with the curse that followed him. They talked for an hour about any and everything before Calendraug was the first to give in and kissed Ilyrana without forcing himself onto her. In surprise, she seemed to accept it and soon he was passionately making love to her.
What happened next haunts him till this day as during the greatest heat of the moment, his rage overtook him and he bit down on her shoulder with his long fangs as an act of passion. Her screams snapped him out of his trance as he soon realized the iron-like taste in his mouth was the blood from the wound, leaning up to see what he had done. With no knowledge of any medical training, he simply lied there next to her as Ilyrana bled out and eventually breathed no more. For the rest of the night, he cried and begged for her to come back, but once morning hit he knew it was no use, burying her next to the largest tree in the forest. As he left, he placed the ring he gave her on his pinky and went on his way to the next town.
Over the next year, that rage had complete control over him and his name began to soar across the land from his carnage and when things became too difficult, he disappeared from the public like a ghost. Calendraug’s name would not be heard in any news for the next forty years into the present day where he has become a forgotten memory much like the bloody legend he left behind. Now, he stalks each new day without as much as a whisper to ripple his name.