My Medieval Charries
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My Medieval Charries
Sorry, I made the mistake of creating my characters before finding pictures, so now I can't find any that fit XP
Prince Therrin
Easily bored with life as a prince, he is constantly running off in search of his next thrilling adventure. Always managing to find one, he is an exceptionally skilled swordsman and wields his gleaming blade with impressive speed and precision, moving with excellent balance. Although he commonly ends up in difficult situations, Therrin is always able to get himself out of it, or with the help of his close friend Arick, a young rogue living in the wilderness. Therrin has short, dark brown hair, so dark it looks black, sapphire-blue eyes and is tall and well built.
Arick
Often disliked for his apparent rude and boisterous nature, he’s quite a different person once you get to know him. Quick-thinking, cunning and versatile, there’s no sticky situation he can’t work his way out of and he is extremely trustworthy. Saying that he’s never broken a single promise made, Arick is a close friend of Therrin and is very fond of the prince, though he keeps as far away from the castle and other royals as possible. His rugged appearance make it easy to tell that he’s a rogue, with messy, auburn hair, fierce dark green eyes and a powerful, though short, build.
Prince Therrin
Easily bored with life as a prince, he is constantly running off in search of his next thrilling adventure. Always managing to find one, he is an exceptionally skilled swordsman and wields his gleaming blade with impressive speed and precision, moving with excellent balance. Although he commonly ends up in difficult situations, Therrin is always able to get himself out of it, or with the help of his close friend Arick, a young rogue living in the wilderness. Therrin has short, dark brown hair, so dark it looks black, sapphire-blue eyes and is tall and well built.
Arick
Often disliked for his apparent rude and boisterous nature, he’s quite a different person once you get to know him. Quick-thinking, cunning and versatile, there’s no sticky situation he can’t work his way out of and he is extremely trustworthy. Saying that he’s never broken a single promise made, Arick is a close friend of Therrin and is very fond of the prince, though he keeps as far away from the castle and other royals as possible. His rugged appearance make it easy to tell that he’s a rogue, with messy, auburn hair, fierce dark green eyes and a powerful, though short, build.
WarHorse- Posts : 1457
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Re: My Medieval Charries
Zelkari
The ever-reliable mount of Prince Therrin, he certainly has looks fit for royalty. Though high spirited and often very fidgety, his experience in battle is great and he is a strong, agile stallion, skillfully dodging enemy swords. Filled with energy, he can be very high maintenance, but there is no horse Therrin would trade him for. They have quite a powerful bond, and the trust between them is vital in a fight. Alkari is also very friendly and affectionate, and easily gets along with other horses, though perhaps his closest friend is Rawk.
http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3303/3500412959_7eba62a35d.jpg
Rawk
Arick’s much loved mount, he is a short tempered, rebellious and fiery stallion. Well suited to life in the wilderness, his sturdy build and tough, hardy nature make him the essential horse for a rogue, as well as his gorgeous looks. Preferring to keep to himself, Alkari is really the only other horse he can stand to be around. Rawk is very fond of his rider and won’t let anyone else near him, and Arick is constantly proud of his stallion’s brutish behaviour.
http://fineartamerica.com/images-medium/paso-fino-stallion-wendi-evans.jpg
The ever-reliable mount of Prince Therrin, he certainly has looks fit for royalty. Though high spirited and often very fidgety, his experience in battle is great and he is a strong, agile stallion, skillfully dodging enemy swords. Filled with energy, he can be very high maintenance, but there is no horse Therrin would trade him for. They have quite a powerful bond, and the trust between them is vital in a fight. Alkari is also very friendly and affectionate, and easily gets along with other horses, though perhaps his closest friend is Rawk.
http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3303/3500412959_7eba62a35d.jpg
Rawk
Arick’s much loved mount, he is a short tempered, rebellious and fiery stallion. Well suited to life in the wilderness, his sturdy build and tough, hardy nature make him the essential horse for a rogue, as well as his gorgeous looks. Preferring to keep to himself, Alkari is really the only other horse he can stand to be around. Rawk is very fond of his rider and won’t let anyone else near him, and Arick is constantly proud of his stallion’s brutish behaviour.
http://fineartamerica.com/images-medium/paso-fino-stallion-wendi-evans.jpg
Last edited by WarHorse on Thu Sep 30, 2010 1:44 am; edited 1 time in total
WarHorse- Posts : 1457
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Re: My Medieval Charries
Awesome characters!! xD
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Re: My Medieval Charries
Thank you ^-^
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You're Welcome. xD
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Re: My Medieval Charries
Characters for Time For A Rebellion :)
Ryke Soeldner
Powerfully built, impressively tall and with eyes so dark that few dare to meet them, simply his appearance is enough to make weaker men fall to their knees in submission. Rarely saying anything, when he does he keeps his sentences short and blunt, and really isn’t the social type, which only contributes to his intimidating presence. Despite this, Ryke’s not all that bad a guy. He won’t hesitate to risk his life for what he believes, would rather die than surrender, and would do anything to protect his allies and his close friend Pallyd. Wielding a massive broad sword of dark steel with stunning ease, he’s a truly formidable force in battle and leaves few standing. Currently, he lives as a rogue with Pallyd, keeping out of the cities and doing all that they can to pester the oppressive nobility, but he was once a captain of the king's army. He rides a sweet natured Shire mare named Bella.
Age: 23
Appearance: Ryke has cold, shadowy green eyes that are so dark they appear completely black in low light. His short, messily ruffled hair is black, and his skin is tanned from so much time in the sun. Muscular, tall and stockily built, his size doesn’t hamper his agility and he’s faster than most expect. When he fights he relies on strength more than speed, however, and has exceptionally keen eyesight.
Bella: https://i.servimg.com/u/f23/14/53/71/88/ryke_s10.jpg
http://www.shire-horse-hof.de/Shire_Horse_Gelding_Stanley_November_2008.jpg
Pallyd Paria
Standing alongside his massive friend Ryke, he looks tiny in comparison. Younger, slightly built and designed for agility and speed rather than impressive power, those who underestimate him often find themselves with a sword through their gut or with a sword point at their throat before they can regret their words. Lightening fast in battle and a master of the blade, Pallyd wields his light, gleaming silver sword with supreme skill and quick thinking, rarely giving his opponents a chance to react between strikes. Because of this, he is an invaluable ally, and he is a loyal, trustworthy friend. Completely the opposite of Ryke, he’s cheerful, friendly, and good natured, willing to take anything the world throws at him with a bright outlook and a determined spirit. It was his idea to escape the city and it is his one goal to one day see the fall of the nobles, despite once being the commander of the king's royal army. The king began to suspect him of encouraging a rebellion and ordered his immediate execution, resulting in Pallyd and Ryke's hurried departure from the city, and they are now considered exiles. His mount is an excitable and spirited young Friesian stallion named Noir.
Age: 21
Appearance: Undeniably handsome, Pallyd’s eyes are a radiant, sapphire blue that seem to darken or lighten according to his mood, which is something he’s quite proud of. His dark brown halfway-to-black hair is neat and not too short, with a neat fringe sweeping just above his eyes. Tall, lithe and elegant, he’s as fast as he looks and, admittedly, isn’t all that strong, but he’s full of spirit and his agility is unmatched. Speed is key to his ability as a fighter, and his skills with the sword are unparalleled, as he was taught by one of the most renowned fighters of the kingdom.
Noir: https://i.servimg.com/u/f23/14/53/71/88/pallyd10.jpg
Ryke Soeldner
Powerfully built, impressively tall and with eyes so dark that few dare to meet them, simply his appearance is enough to make weaker men fall to their knees in submission. Rarely saying anything, when he does he keeps his sentences short and blunt, and really isn’t the social type, which only contributes to his intimidating presence. Despite this, Ryke’s not all that bad a guy. He won’t hesitate to risk his life for what he believes, would rather die than surrender, and would do anything to protect his allies and his close friend Pallyd. Wielding a massive broad sword of dark steel with stunning ease, he’s a truly formidable force in battle and leaves few standing. Currently, he lives as a rogue with Pallyd, keeping out of the cities and doing all that they can to pester the oppressive nobility, but he was once a captain of the king's army. He rides a sweet natured Shire mare named Bella.
Age: 23
Appearance: Ryke has cold, shadowy green eyes that are so dark they appear completely black in low light. His short, messily ruffled hair is black, and his skin is tanned from so much time in the sun. Muscular, tall and stockily built, his size doesn’t hamper his agility and he’s faster than most expect. When he fights he relies on strength more than speed, however, and has exceptionally keen eyesight.
Bella: https://i.servimg.com/u/f23/14/53/71/88/ryke_s10.jpg
http://www.shire-horse-hof.de/Shire_Horse_Gelding_Stanley_November_2008.jpg
Pallyd Paria
Standing alongside his massive friend Ryke, he looks tiny in comparison. Younger, slightly built and designed for agility and speed rather than impressive power, those who underestimate him often find themselves with a sword through their gut or with a sword point at their throat before they can regret their words. Lightening fast in battle and a master of the blade, Pallyd wields his light, gleaming silver sword with supreme skill and quick thinking, rarely giving his opponents a chance to react between strikes. Because of this, he is an invaluable ally, and he is a loyal, trustworthy friend. Completely the opposite of Ryke, he’s cheerful, friendly, and good natured, willing to take anything the world throws at him with a bright outlook and a determined spirit. It was his idea to escape the city and it is his one goal to one day see the fall of the nobles, despite once being the commander of the king's royal army. The king began to suspect him of encouraging a rebellion and ordered his immediate execution, resulting in Pallyd and Ryke's hurried departure from the city, and they are now considered exiles. His mount is an excitable and spirited young Friesian stallion named Noir.
Age: 21
Appearance: Undeniably handsome, Pallyd’s eyes are a radiant, sapphire blue that seem to darken or lighten according to his mood, which is something he’s quite proud of. His dark brown halfway-to-black hair is neat and not too short, with a neat fringe sweeping just above his eyes. Tall, lithe and elegant, he’s as fast as he looks and, admittedly, isn’t all that strong, but he’s full of spirit and his agility is unmatched. Speed is key to his ability as a fighter, and his skills with the sword are unparalleled, as he was taught by one of the most renowned fighters of the kingdom.
Noir: https://i.servimg.com/u/f23/14/53/71/88/pallyd10.jpg
Last edited by WarHorse on Fri Oct 07, 2011 7:31 am; edited 13 times in total
WarHorse- Posts : 1457
Join date : 2009-11-12
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Re: My Medieval Charries
Characters for Lilly's rp
Lysander Brenson
Son of the renowned Lord Avernhayl, he does all that he can to follow in the mighty footsteps of his father. Charming, charismatic, quick witted and only 17 years old, he earns close friends wherever he goes and is extremely well known for both his ability as a swordsman and for his cheerful nature. In pursuit of becoming a lord as great as his father, Lysander set off to the wilderness to hone his fighting abilities and to gain knowledge of the vast lands around his city. He wanders wherever he pleases, mounted on his gallant white Lipizzan stallion named Mirelm, learning everything that he can and searching for his next adventure. Perhaps Lysander’s most appealing feature is his stunning auburn eyes, though he’s exceptionally good looking, and his hair is somewhere between sandy blonde and light brown.
Mirelm: https://i.servimg.com/u/f23/14/53/71/88/lysand10.jpg
Darven Kross
Better know as ‘Traitor’s Bane’, he is a brilliantly skilled mercenary often hired to create chaos or to dispatch hated enemies, and is frighteningly good at it. When his similarity to an assassin is pointed out, he argues that he doesn’t always kill, and only kills for a good reason. Betrayed long ago by his own brother, Darven carries a deep hatred of traitors or liars of any sort, and won’t hesitate to set pain and misfortune upon them. Fighting with cold, careful precision, the look in his icy grey eyes is enough to intimidate his opposition to the point of submission. Tall and slim, though still very well built, few people are brave enough to meddle with him. Darven’s grey eyes are unusual, but are mostly covered by his black, fairly long fringe, and he is just 18 years of age. His horse is a powerfully built dark bay Noriker named Sletter, an honest, laid back mare.
Sletter: https://i.servimg.com/u/f23/14/53/71/88/darven10.jpg
Hope you like, Lilly :3
Lysander Brenson
Son of the renowned Lord Avernhayl, he does all that he can to follow in the mighty footsteps of his father. Charming, charismatic, quick witted and only 17 years old, he earns close friends wherever he goes and is extremely well known for both his ability as a swordsman and for his cheerful nature. In pursuit of becoming a lord as great as his father, Lysander set off to the wilderness to hone his fighting abilities and to gain knowledge of the vast lands around his city. He wanders wherever he pleases, mounted on his gallant white Lipizzan stallion named Mirelm, learning everything that he can and searching for his next adventure. Perhaps Lysander’s most appealing feature is his stunning auburn eyes, though he’s exceptionally good looking, and his hair is somewhere between sandy blonde and light brown.
Mirelm: https://i.servimg.com/u/f23/14/53/71/88/lysand10.jpg
Darven Kross
Better know as ‘Traitor’s Bane’, he is a brilliantly skilled mercenary often hired to create chaos or to dispatch hated enemies, and is frighteningly good at it. When his similarity to an assassin is pointed out, he argues that he doesn’t always kill, and only kills for a good reason. Betrayed long ago by his own brother, Darven carries a deep hatred of traitors or liars of any sort, and won’t hesitate to set pain and misfortune upon them. Fighting with cold, careful precision, the look in his icy grey eyes is enough to intimidate his opposition to the point of submission. Tall and slim, though still very well built, few people are brave enough to meddle with him. Darven’s grey eyes are unusual, but are mostly covered by his black, fairly long fringe, and he is just 18 years of age. His horse is a powerfully built dark bay Noriker named Sletter, an honest, laid back mare.
Sletter: https://i.servimg.com/u/f23/14/53/71/88/darven10.jpg
Hope you like, Lilly :3
Last edited by WarHorse on Wed Sep 07, 2011 5:19 am; edited 15 times in total
WarHorse- Posts : 1457
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Re: My Medieval Charries
Love'em <3333
LillyStar- Posts : 1717
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Location : The walls of your nightmare.
Re: My Medieval Charries
Hey, how old are they though?
LillyStar- Posts : 1717
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Re: My Medieval Charries
I'll add that now o.o'
WarHorse- Posts : 1457
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Re: My Medieval Charries
Character for rp with Ram
Thervador
Raised by his mother in the harsh wilderness of the north, he spent his youth constantly on guard, warned by his mother that they were sought after by soldiers of the capital. Though he was never told why, he trained with determination and courage to become a truly formidable swordsman and a precise archer, much to the pride of his mother. Her warnings were not wasted, as when Thervador was no more than 17 the soldiers discovered their small house in the forest, killing his mother and almost capturing him. His escape was due mostly to luck, and with this realisation came a new desire to train harder, and since that day his skills have reached a level of true amazement. With no other purpose Thervador joined a band of mercenaries and quickly became a fighter of high rank. His band is now on the verge of being called an army, but, preferring the peace of seclusion, he often wanders away from the others. They’ve become use to this peculiar habit, and don’t question him about it. It is unknown to Thervador that he is the nephew of a cruel and ruthless king, from which his mother wished to protect him. However, it is now believed by the king that he is dead. Thervador recently came into possession of a young Lusitano named Blithri, and the two have quickly bonded.
Age: 20
Appearance: Gentle, pale green eyes and messy, dark brown hair. Quite tall, though not tremendously, and well-muscled from years of fighting. His looks are appealing, but not necessarily handsome.
Blithri: http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1375/5109281934_23418042e3.jpg
Thervador
Raised by his mother in the harsh wilderness of the north, he spent his youth constantly on guard, warned by his mother that they were sought after by soldiers of the capital. Though he was never told why, he trained with determination and courage to become a truly formidable swordsman and a precise archer, much to the pride of his mother. Her warnings were not wasted, as when Thervador was no more than 17 the soldiers discovered their small house in the forest, killing his mother and almost capturing him. His escape was due mostly to luck, and with this realisation came a new desire to train harder, and since that day his skills have reached a level of true amazement. With no other purpose Thervador joined a band of mercenaries and quickly became a fighter of high rank. His band is now on the verge of being called an army, but, preferring the peace of seclusion, he often wanders away from the others. They’ve become use to this peculiar habit, and don’t question him about it. It is unknown to Thervador that he is the nephew of a cruel and ruthless king, from which his mother wished to protect him. However, it is now believed by the king that he is dead. Thervador recently came into possession of a young Lusitano named Blithri, and the two have quickly bonded.
Age: 20
Appearance: Gentle, pale green eyes and messy, dark brown hair. Quite tall, though not tremendously, and well-muscled from years of fighting. His looks are appealing, but not necessarily handsome.
Blithri: http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1375/5109281934_23418042e3.jpg
Last edited by WarHorse on Sat Feb 19, 2011 1:24 am; edited 2 times in total
WarHorse- Posts : 1457
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Re: My Medieval Charries
Shockhorror! A female medieval character! :O
Iltyra Bauen
Raised beneath the wing of a kind though pompous old stable master named Kerreld, she knows nothing at all of her blood parents or her heritage, and all her attempts to gain even the slightest insight have been to no avail. In order to defy the often scornful and rebuking comments made about her lack of family, Iltyra puts a tremendous amount of effort into all that she does, whether it involves cleaning the stable where she both lives and earns her wage or chasing down a loose horse. It is her efficiency and work ethic that made her a much loved member of the city by most, and though she is shy, she carries a naturally friendly and kind presence, one that often attracts the attention of young men. Just as such a presence would suggest, Iltyra is of kind heart and gentle nature, but she is not to be underestimated. She shows exceptional potential with the long sword handed down to her by Kerreld, and for many years has wielded a short, simple dagger. Though she has spent her life in peace and safety, she longs to leave the boundaries of the city walls and chase the distant horizons beyond. Her favourite horse at the stables is a young black Welsh Cob stallion named Strikka, a loyal but fiery young horse with boundless spirit.
Age: 18
Appearance: Slimly built and tall, she possesses a beauty that she is not herself aware of, though many others are. Women envy her and men adore her, but she pays little attention to any of them, her mind fixed on her work and on one day leaving the confines of the city. Her short, always tied up hair is a pure shade of black, and the eyes beneath her messy fringe are a gentle, pale blue.
For Ginga's rp
Strikka: https://i.servimg.com/u/f23/14/53/71/88/iltyra10.jpg
Iltyra Bauen
Raised beneath the wing of a kind though pompous old stable master named Kerreld, she knows nothing at all of her blood parents or her heritage, and all her attempts to gain even the slightest insight have been to no avail. In order to defy the often scornful and rebuking comments made about her lack of family, Iltyra puts a tremendous amount of effort into all that she does, whether it involves cleaning the stable where she both lives and earns her wage or chasing down a loose horse. It is her efficiency and work ethic that made her a much loved member of the city by most, and though she is shy, she carries a naturally friendly and kind presence, one that often attracts the attention of young men. Just as such a presence would suggest, Iltyra is of kind heart and gentle nature, but she is not to be underestimated. She shows exceptional potential with the long sword handed down to her by Kerreld, and for many years has wielded a short, simple dagger. Though she has spent her life in peace and safety, she longs to leave the boundaries of the city walls and chase the distant horizons beyond. Her favourite horse at the stables is a young black Welsh Cob stallion named Strikka, a loyal but fiery young horse with boundless spirit.
Age: 18
Appearance: Slimly built and tall, she possesses a beauty that she is not herself aware of, though many others are. Women envy her and men adore her, but she pays little attention to any of them, her mind fixed on her work and on one day leaving the confines of the city. Her short, always tied up hair is a pure shade of black, and the eyes beneath her messy fringe are a gentle, pale blue.
For Ginga's rp
Strikka: https://i.servimg.com/u/f23/14/53/71/88/iltyra10.jpg
Last edited by WarHorse on Wed Sep 07, 2011 5:21 am; edited 6 times in total
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Re: My Medieval Charries
Areth Salikar
Born into the life of royalty against his will, he would do anything to escape the oppression of expectations and live the carefree life of a traveler or rogue, but is prevented from doing so by his parents. Strict, dignified and far from empathetic, his parents care for nothing but appearances, sacrificing anything, even the happiness of their son, to maintain a strong, influential outlook. Areth has despised them since childhood, when they first stripped away his freedom and personality to shape him into what they wanted. Tormented by being forced into something he wasn’t, he could stand it no longer and wreaked havoc upon the palace before escaping the prison that was his home. Unwilling to admit such a thing had happened, his father claimed that he’d been kidnapped, and sent out a band of highly skilled fighters to retrieve him. Constantly restless, anxious and antisocial, life has taken its toll on him, but his inability to remain stationary has allowed him to keep out of reach of his father’s soldiers, and his pent up anger makes him a ferocious fighter of frightening speed and masterful skill. Accompanied by his high spirited and willful chestnut Lusitano mare Kibeth, he avoids others at all times in order to avoid recognition, as the price for his return is quite astonishing.
Age: 18
Appearance: Tall and built ideally for speed and agility, he inherited not only his mother’s fair looks but her vicious temper, and consequently his rather charming face is usually hidden by a scowl. His sapphire blue eyes glow from behind his auburn hair, which hangs in front of his eyes in a fringe. Years of training have resulted in a well muscled and highly skilled fighter, but his temper can often make him clumsy and predictable.
Kibeth: https://i.servimg.com/u/f23/14/53/71/88/areth_10.jpg
Born into the life of royalty against his will, he would do anything to escape the oppression of expectations and live the carefree life of a traveler or rogue, but is prevented from doing so by his parents. Strict, dignified and far from empathetic, his parents care for nothing but appearances, sacrificing anything, even the happiness of their son, to maintain a strong, influential outlook. Areth has despised them since childhood, when they first stripped away his freedom and personality to shape him into what they wanted. Tormented by being forced into something he wasn’t, he could stand it no longer and wreaked havoc upon the palace before escaping the prison that was his home. Unwilling to admit such a thing had happened, his father claimed that he’d been kidnapped, and sent out a band of highly skilled fighters to retrieve him. Constantly restless, anxious and antisocial, life has taken its toll on him, but his inability to remain stationary has allowed him to keep out of reach of his father’s soldiers, and his pent up anger makes him a ferocious fighter of frightening speed and masterful skill. Accompanied by his high spirited and willful chestnut Lusitano mare Kibeth, he avoids others at all times in order to avoid recognition, as the price for his return is quite astonishing.
Age: 18
Appearance: Tall and built ideally for speed and agility, he inherited not only his mother’s fair looks but her vicious temper, and consequently his rather charming face is usually hidden by a scowl. His sapphire blue eyes glow from behind his auburn hair, which hangs in front of his eyes in a fringe. Years of training have resulted in a well muscled and highly skilled fighter, but his temper can often make him clumsy and predictable.
Kibeth: https://i.servimg.com/u/f23/14/53/71/88/areth_10.jpg
Last edited by WarHorse on Wed Sep 07, 2011 5:23 am; edited 6 times in total
WarHorse- Posts : 1457
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Re: My Medieval Charries
Thylem Tallor
Ever since childhood, Thylem has dreamed of becoming the revered commander of a powerful army. As soon as he was old enough he set himself the goal of mastering swordsmanship, and now his skill with the long sword is unmatched. Many have dueled with him in an attempt to best him, but none have been able to defeat him. A fighter of exceptional speed, determination, cunning and ferocity, the army was eager to accept him into their ranks. Now at 20 years of age, Thylem is a highly respected captain, trusted and liked by the soldiers in his regiment. Harmada, the city he lives in and serves, is renowned for its wealth and power, and Thylem hopes to one day become the general of its formidable army.
A man of charming looks and strong build, Thylem certainly fits the title of captain. Though tall, his features are still quite young, and he is, much to his own dismay, rather on the slim side despite countless hours of training each day. This, however, does make him incredibly fast and agile, and few would to challenge him to a match of speed. Boundlessly courageous, there is no task too difficult for him to complete and no fight too daunting, and he always approaches warfare with a clear, open mind and admirable determination. Thylem’s auburn hair, a unique characteristic within the ranks, barely falls under the description of short, and his eyes are a beautiful dark green flecked with brown.
Ruthi: https://i.servimg.com/u/f23/14/53/71/88/thylem10.jpg
Ever since childhood, Thylem has dreamed of becoming the revered commander of a powerful army. As soon as he was old enough he set himself the goal of mastering swordsmanship, and now his skill with the long sword is unmatched. Many have dueled with him in an attempt to best him, but none have been able to defeat him. A fighter of exceptional speed, determination, cunning and ferocity, the army was eager to accept him into their ranks. Now at 20 years of age, Thylem is a highly respected captain, trusted and liked by the soldiers in his regiment. Harmada, the city he lives in and serves, is renowned for its wealth and power, and Thylem hopes to one day become the general of its formidable army.
A man of charming looks and strong build, Thylem certainly fits the title of captain. Though tall, his features are still quite young, and he is, much to his own dismay, rather on the slim side despite countless hours of training each day. This, however, does make him incredibly fast and agile, and few would to challenge him to a match of speed. Boundlessly courageous, there is no task too difficult for him to complete and no fight too daunting, and he always approaches warfare with a clear, open mind and admirable determination. Thylem’s auburn hair, a unique characteristic within the ranks, barely falls under the description of short, and his eyes are a beautiful dark green flecked with brown.
Ruthi: https://i.servimg.com/u/f23/14/53/71/88/thylem10.jpg
Last edited by WarHorse on Wed Sep 07, 2011 5:23 am; edited 2 times in total
WarHorse- Posts : 1457
Join date : 2009-11-12
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Re: My Medieval Charries
Thoren Aster
At the meagre age of 14, Thoren fled his abusive father, the crowded city streets and the weighty expectations of his mother and escaped into the wilderness with no other purpose than to start anew. However, it was only a matter of time before he was lost and at the verge of starvation, steadily wandering towards a sad death. Or so it would have been, if he had not been discovered by a band of rogues hiding out in the forest. They welcomed him into their group and trained him in the ways of stealth and secrecy, and he impressed them with a talent for the sword and a quick eye. Before long he was ranked amongst the top thieves of the band, despite being only 17 years of age amidst much older and more experienced men. Thoren is no stranger to death and misery, and long ago learned to harden himself against emotions such as compassion and regret. Nevertheless, he is exceptionally loyal, extraordinarily brave and, though he dare not tell anyone else, longs to one day find someone his own age to bring into the band. With strawberry blonde hair that glows in the sunlight and crystalline blue eyes, his handsome looks can make him conspicuous, and are often a subject of both admiration and mockery amongst the rogues.
At the meagre age of 14, Thoren fled his abusive father, the crowded city streets and the weighty expectations of his mother and escaped into the wilderness with no other purpose than to start anew. However, it was only a matter of time before he was lost and at the verge of starvation, steadily wandering towards a sad death. Or so it would have been, if he had not been discovered by a band of rogues hiding out in the forest. They welcomed him into their group and trained him in the ways of stealth and secrecy, and he impressed them with a talent for the sword and a quick eye. Before long he was ranked amongst the top thieves of the band, despite being only 17 years of age amidst much older and more experienced men. Thoren is no stranger to death and misery, and long ago learned to harden himself against emotions such as compassion and regret. Nevertheless, he is exceptionally loyal, extraordinarily brave and, though he dare not tell anyone else, longs to one day find someone his own age to bring into the band. With strawberry blonde hair that glows in the sunlight and crystalline blue eyes, his handsome looks can make him conspicuous, and are often a subject of both admiration and mockery amongst the rogues.
WarHorse- Posts : 1457
Join date : 2009-11-12
Age : 30
Location : Iscrit... Amongst countless other places in my head...
Re: My Medieval Charries
Broen Kreen
The son of the highly respected Lord Arrox, Broen long ago discarded a life of politics for a life of adventure. Not possessing the patience or charisma fitting the son of a famous noble, he instead turned his sights to his sword training, and years of devotion and practice have made him a true master of the blade. At the young age of 15, he left the city with his mentor and began to wander between cities, offering help where he could and assisting those in need. Before long he began to travel on his own, and by then was famous throughout the kingdom for his kind and brave deeds. Broen became a mercenary of sorts, called to far places across the kingdom to help in any way he could, and even the king took up an interest in him. Despite his status as a hero, he is remarkably laid back, and greatly prefers the silence of the wilderness to the crowds of the city. Quiet, easygoing, kind hearted and intuitive, he’s not what people imagine him to be, and has long since become accustomed to people’s surprise at his almost reticent manner. Nevertheless, Broen is exceptionally loyal and an incredibly courageous fighter, willing to stop at nothing to protect those in need. Already as tall as his father, he stands around 6 feet, and though he is well muscled he is far from what one would describe as stocky. A pair of luminous, hazel coloured eyes gleam from behind a tawny fringe, the irises streaked with lines of green and amber. Now at almost 19 years of age, he is the complete opposite of his father, but despite their differences the noble is undeniably proud of his son. Broen rides a spirited and fiercely loyal black Lusitano mare named Andrit.
Andrit: https://i.servimg.com/u/f23/14/53/71/88/broen_11.jpg
For rp with Disseh
The son of the highly respected Lord Arrox, Broen long ago discarded a life of politics for a life of adventure. Not possessing the patience or charisma fitting the son of a famous noble, he instead turned his sights to his sword training, and years of devotion and practice have made him a true master of the blade. At the young age of 15, he left the city with his mentor and began to wander between cities, offering help where he could and assisting those in need. Before long he began to travel on his own, and by then was famous throughout the kingdom for his kind and brave deeds. Broen became a mercenary of sorts, called to far places across the kingdom to help in any way he could, and even the king took up an interest in him. Despite his status as a hero, he is remarkably laid back, and greatly prefers the silence of the wilderness to the crowds of the city. Quiet, easygoing, kind hearted and intuitive, he’s not what people imagine him to be, and has long since become accustomed to people’s surprise at his almost reticent manner. Nevertheless, Broen is exceptionally loyal and an incredibly courageous fighter, willing to stop at nothing to protect those in need. Already as tall as his father, he stands around 6 feet, and though he is well muscled he is far from what one would describe as stocky. A pair of luminous, hazel coloured eyes gleam from behind a tawny fringe, the irises streaked with lines of green and amber. Now at almost 19 years of age, he is the complete opposite of his father, but despite their differences the noble is undeniably proud of his son. Broen rides a spirited and fiercely loyal black Lusitano mare named Andrit.
Andrit: https://i.servimg.com/u/f23/14/53/71/88/broen_11.jpg
For rp with Disseh
Last edited by WarHorse on Wed Apr 20, 2011 10:47 pm; edited 3 times in total
WarHorse- Posts : 1457
Join date : 2009-11-12
Age : 30
Location : Iscrit... Amongst countless other places in my head...
Re: My Medieval Charries
Farien Luri
Born into a family that didn’t want him, Farien was barely 2 years old when his parents abandoned him on the side of a road, leaving him exposed to the dangers of the wilderness. Thankfully, he was found not long after, by the wife of a greedy and highly temperamental man. She raised him with a loving hand, but the husband was abusive and cruel, and would beat both of them when his temper ran out. In one of his most brutal fits, he accidently murdered his own wife, and in a desperate need for vengeance Farien took a knife and drove it into his foster father’s heart. At the time, he was but 12 years old. He fled the home and escaped into the wilderness, where he stumbled across a retired assassin. The next day his training began, and in the 3 years following he trained endlessly to perfect the art of an assassin. Before long at all he became a master of the art, surpassing even the skill of his mentor, and he set off to start his work. Now 18 years of age, Farien is a close friend of death, and is infamous for his lethal precision and deadly work ethic. He has never disappointed a client, and doesn’t plan to in his coming years, which is part of what makes him so greatly feared. A fatal shadow in the darkness, he long ago shut himself off from his emotions, fashioning himself a mask of apathy and indifference so strong that he can barely remember what he was like as a child, before he learnt of things such as sorrow and pain. Cold hearted and entirely lacking of empathy, even his clients are extremely wary of him, and with good reason. The one emotion Farien has a tendency to show is anger. Tall and slim, he moves with exceptional grace and deadly speed, wielding sword, knife and bow with unbelievable accuracy. His eyes are entirely black, adding to his unnerving presence, and his fairly long hair is a shade of brown so dark it is often mistaken for black. Few people know what he actually looks like, as he always wears a long, black cloak with the hood pulled up. Only when on a job does he elect not to wear it, as the victims who see him end up dead anyway. When travelling between jobs, he rides a Friesian–Barb cross named Gafaerli.
Gafaerli: https://i.servimg.com/u/f23/14/53/71/88/farien11.jpg
For Lkb's rp
Born into a family that didn’t want him, Farien was barely 2 years old when his parents abandoned him on the side of a road, leaving him exposed to the dangers of the wilderness. Thankfully, he was found not long after, by the wife of a greedy and highly temperamental man. She raised him with a loving hand, but the husband was abusive and cruel, and would beat both of them when his temper ran out. In one of his most brutal fits, he accidently murdered his own wife, and in a desperate need for vengeance Farien took a knife and drove it into his foster father’s heart. At the time, he was but 12 years old. He fled the home and escaped into the wilderness, where he stumbled across a retired assassin. The next day his training began, and in the 3 years following he trained endlessly to perfect the art of an assassin. Before long at all he became a master of the art, surpassing even the skill of his mentor, and he set off to start his work. Now 18 years of age, Farien is a close friend of death, and is infamous for his lethal precision and deadly work ethic. He has never disappointed a client, and doesn’t plan to in his coming years, which is part of what makes him so greatly feared. A fatal shadow in the darkness, he long ago shut himself off from his emotions, fashioning himself a mask of apathy and indifference so strong that he can barely remember what he was like as a child, before he learnt of things such as sorrow and pain. Cold hearted and entirely lacking of empathy, even his clients are extremely wary of him, and with good reason. The one emotion Farien has a tendency to show is anger. Tall and slim, he moves with exceptional grace and deadly speed, wielding sword, knife and bow with unbelievable accuracy. His eyes are entirely black, adding to his unnerving presence, and his fairly long hair is a shade of brown so dark it is often mistaken for black. Few people know what he actually looks like, as he always wears a long, black cloak with the hood pulled up. Only when on a job does he elect not to wear it, as the victims who see him end up dead anyway. When travelling between jobs, he rides a Friesian–Barb cross named Gafaerli.
Gafaerli: https://i.servimg.com/u/f23/14/53/71/88/farien11.jpg
For Lkb's rp
Last edited by WarHorse on Wed Sep 07, 2011 5:12 am; edited 4 times in total
WarHorse- Posts : 1457
Join date : 2009-11-12
Age : 30
Location : Iscrit... Amongst countless other places in my head...
Re: My Medieval Charries
Deep description....... very nice I must say, but I do like Prince Therrin and Areth. =D
Soul- Posts : 13
Join date : 2011-03-13
Age : 29
Location : In your soul. xD
Re: My Medieval Charries
Thank you! And welcome to EM, by the way :3
WarHorse- Posts : 1457
Join date : 2009-11-12
Age : 30
Location : Iscrit... Amongst countless other places in my head...
Re: My Medieval Charries
Thank you. =)
Soul- Posts : 13
Join date : 2011-03-13
Age : 29
Location : In your soul. xD
Re: My Medieval Charries
Iraden Stolz
A fighter since the day of birth, he lives by one sole creed: Never give in. Proud, stubborn and strong-headed, he has never let that creed down, and has no intention to in the future. His determination often makes him pig-headed and unruly, his pride resulting in a ferociously short temper, and he’s highly dangerous company. Tread on his nerves, and he’ll let you know about it as quickly and as violently as possible. Not the best of company, due to this fact, he prefers to wander alone, causing trouble and wreaking havoc where possible, stealing to survive and killing when he must. Raised under the notion of kill or be killed, he’s a ruthless, merciless fighter, and wields his long sword with extreme skill, his ability fueled by his permanent source of inner fury. This source was first created when he was a young boy. The eldest of two younger siblings, a younger brother and the youngest a sister, he instantly became their protector, luckily for them. Their parents were cruel and abusive; their mother was constantly drunk and cared little for them, if anything at all, while the father was constantly hoping to abuse them. Iraden, however, would do everything in his power to stop the malicious man, until one day his father grabbed him and beat him half to death, leaving him close enough to life that he could still watch as his siblings were beaten, unable to defend themselves. He awoke the next day to the sight of his father burying something outside, and found his little sister gone. In a fierce battle, Iraden took his father’s long sword and killed him in the name of revenge before trying to run away with his brother. The brother, however, refused to leave, so Iraden fled alone and became a lone mercenary, still seeking a vent for his bottomless anger.
Much to his disgust, Iraden looks much like his father. His short, spiked hair is an earthy brown colour tinted with the faintest shades of red when caught in the sunlight, and his eyes are a startling, sharp electric blue, fiercely bright and shining with his undying anger. Though tall, his fairly slim, yet despite his build he’s remarkably strong, and combines this strength with vicious speed to be a truly formidable opponent to any fighter. He is 22 years old and has spent 7 years in the wilderness, his only company being his stolen white Andalusian stallion, Jorka. Jorka is young, proud and spirited, much like Iraden, and the mercenary is extremely fond of him.
Jorka: https://i.servimg.com/u/f23/14/53/71/88/iraden10.jpg
For Mismatched
A fighter since the day of birth, he lives by one sole creed: Never give in. Proud, stubborn and strong-headed, he has never let that creed down, and has no intention to in the future. His determination often makes him pig-headed and unruly, his pride resulting in a ferociously short temper, and he’s highly dangerous company. Tread on his nerves, and he’ll let you know about it as quickly and as violently as possible. Not the best of company, due to this fact, he prefers to wander alone, causing trouble and wreaking havoc where possible, stealing to survive and killing when he must. Raised under the notion of kill or be killed, he’s a ruthless, merciless fighter, and wields his long sword with extreme skill, his ability fueled by his permanent source of inner fury. This source was first created when he was a young boy. The eldest of two younger siblings, a younger brother and the youngest a sister, he instantly became their protector, luckily for them. Their parents were cruel and abusive; their mother was constantly drunk and cared little for them, if anything at all, while the father was constantly hoping to abuse them. Iraden, however, would do everything in his power to stop the malicious man, until one day his father grabbed him and beat him half to death, leaving him close enough to life that he could still watch as his siblings were beaten, unable to defend themselves. He awoke the next day to the sight of his father burying something outside, and found his little sister gone. In a fierce battle, Iraden took his father’s long sword and killed him in the name of revenge before trying to run away with his brother. The brother, however, refused to leave, so Iraden fled alone and became a lone mercenary, still seeking a vent for his bottomless anger.
Much to his disgust, Iraden looks much like his father. His short, spiked hair is an earthy brown colour tinted with the faintest shades of red when caught in the sunlight, and his eyes are a startling, sharp electric blue, fiercely bright and shining with his undying anger. Though tall, his fairly slim, yet despite his build he’s remarkably strong, and combines this strength with vicious speed to be a truly formidable opponent to any fighter. He is 22 years old and has spent 7 years in the wilderness, his only company being his stolen white Andalusian stallion, Jorka. Jorka is young, proud and spirited, much like Iraden, and the mercenary is extremely fond of him.
Jorka: https://i.servimg.com/u/f23/14/53/71/88/iraden10.jpg
For Mismatched
Last edited by WarHorse on Wed Sep 07, 2011 5:12 am; edited 1 time in total
WarHorse- Posts : 1457
Join date : 2009-11-12
Age : 30
Location : Iscrit... Amongst countless other places in my head...
Re: My Medieval Charries
Hey again,
well, my computer's playing up and the message I was supposed to send to you about our RP isn't in my sentbox. Hoping it's gone through, but just going to send this anyway. I don't want it to feel like I'm ignoring you. =L Anyway, if you have it already, fabulous! If not, here it is;
Wow. I think that's literally all I can say about your RP, Mismatched. I'm awestruck by that incredible piece you two are creating together! I mean, it took me a little while to read but I was able to picture rather vivid scenes in my head of what everything would look like. Absolutely gorgeous writing.
Anyways, I can definitely create another medieval character to fit whichever role you're looking for. First, I'm going to need the gender I'm playing so I can start my character. I don't mind which gender I play, I love them both. Are we heading along the assassin lines?
Hope to hear back from you soon,
Soul. xx
-
Wasn't sure where to post this, my inbox isn't working. Do you have a Horse Isle account I might be able to catch you on to talk about this? Or an email? Sorry to be a pest by posting it here. >.<
I really love your characters by the way.
well, my computer's playing up and the message I was supposed to send to you about our RP isn't in my sentbox. Hoping it's gone through, but just going to send this anyway. I don't want it to feel like I'm ignoring you. =L Anyway, if you have it already, fabulous! If not, here it is;
Wow. I think that's literally all I can say about your RP, Mismatched. I'm awestruck by that incredible piece you two are creating together! I mean, it took me a little while to read but I was able to picture rather vivid scenes in my head of what everything would look like. Absolutely gorgeous writing.
Anyways, I can definitely create another medieval character to fit whichever role you're looking for. First, I'm going to need the gender I'm playing so I can start my character. I don't mind which gender I play, I love them both. Are we heading along the assassin lines?
Hope to hear back from you soon,
Soul. xx
-
Wasn't sure where to post this, my inbox isn't working. Do you have a Horse Isle account I might be able to catch you on to talk about this? Or an email? Sorry to be a pest by posting it here. >.<
I really love your characters by the way.
Soul- Posts : 13
Join date : 2011-03-13
Age : 29
Location : In your soul. xD
Re: My Medieval Charries
Keenan Holter
First thing’s first: don’t get on his bad side. Temperamental puts it lightly; a maniac might be a bit of an exaggeration, though not by much. Little is known about his history, seeing as most wouldn’t dare ask him, though rest assured it’s nothing pleasant. Rumour has it he slaughtered his whole family, siblings and all, and took off to become an assassin. Death’s something of a passion for him; he’s got a real talent for it, too. The Death Dealer, he’s called, partly because he’s good at it, partly because he’s always playing around with it. Not afraid of death, this one, not in the least. Keenan’s got a temper that could evacuate countries, a mouth that’ll turn a lake into a swamp and a glare that’d melt the icecaps in five seconds flat. No one’s ever seen him smile, but he saves a most wicked, malicious little grin for his victims before he takes their lives, so they say. You see that grin, you’re not going to be seeing anything else afterwards. He’s got one love and one love only: cold blooded massacres. Life doesn’t mean a thing to him; if it does, it means the opportunity to bring about death in its place. That’s just the way Keenan works. Death and anger, everything you need to know right there. You wouldn’t know him if you saw him, either, if you didn’t see the look in his eyes, the look of a crazed soul. He’s the scrawny type, tall but no monster, muscled but no brick wall. He has sandy blonde hair, too, which is never really what you’d describe as being ‘formidable’, but his eyes, no joke, are black. Black as death itself, Keenan would know. If you know what’s good for you, then you’d better keep well clear of Keenan Holter, that’s for certain. No going back when you tread wrong around him, not with those knives of his, not with that axe he carries. “No second chances,” as Keenan says. Then he laughs.
For a roleplay with Katana.
First thing’s first: don’t get on his bad side. Temperamental puts it lightly; a maniac might be a bit of an exaggeration, though not by much. Little is known about his history, seeing as most wouldn’t dare ask him, though rest assured it’s nothing pleasant. Rumour has it he slaughtered his whole family, siblings and all, and took off to become an assassin. Death’s something of a passion for him; he’s got a real talent for it, too. The Death Dealer, he’s called, partly because he’s good at it, partly because he’s always playing around with it. Not afraid of death, this one, not in the least. Keenan’s got a temper that could evacuate countries, a mouth that’ll turn a lake into a swamp and a glare that’d melt the icecaps in five seconds flat. No one’s ever seen him smile, but he saves a most wicked, malicious little grin for his victims before he takes their lives, so they say. You see that grin, you’re not going to be seeing anything else afterwards. He’s got one love and one love only: cold blooded massacres. Life doesn’t mean a thing to him; if it does, it means the opportunity to bring about death in its place. That’s just the way Keenan works. Death and anger, everything you need to know right there. You wouldn’t know him if you saw him, either, if you didn’t see the look in his eyes, the look of a crazed soul. He’s the scrawny type, tall but no monster, muscled but no brick wall. He has sandy blonde hair, too, which is never really what you’d describe as being ‘formidable’, but his eyes, no joke, are black. Black as death itself, Keenan would know. If you know what’s good for you, then you’d better keep well clear of Keenan Holter, that’s for certain. No going back when you tread wrong around him, not with those knives of his, not with that axe he carries. “No second chances,” as Keenan says. Then he laughs.
For a roleplay with Katana.
WarHorse- Posts : 1457
Join date : 2009-11-12
Age : 30
Location : Iscrit... Amongst countless other places in my head...
Re: My Medieval Charries
Rederick Taylin
Lucy, her name was, and Rederick was madly in love with her. She was perfect: extraordinarily beautiful and impossibly gentle of heart, and though he was imperfect, neither impressive of looks or skills, she loved him just as much as he loved her. His nights were filled with dreams of marrying her, running away with her to a beautiful little farmhouse, and he promised himself he would make it happen. So he worked hard as a tailor and saved up every coin he earned until at last he had enough to purchase a ring almost as beautiful as she was. On a fine Summer’s day Rederick took her out into the forest and down to the river, where they sat by the water, hand in hand. Moments away from proposing to her, however, disaster struck. Rogues attacked. The rogues seized Lucy, tried to take her away, but Rederick fought with every ounce of strength he had to save her. It was still not enough. The leader of the rogues stepped forward, drew his knife, and before Rederick could dodge the blow slashed him across the face in a diagonal line from hair to chin, across his right eye. With his one good eye he watched them take her away before he fell into unconsciousness. When he came to, unable to see out of his right eye, he stumbled after their trail, calling Lucy’s name, but when he found her he was far too late. Her eyes, grey and lifeless, stared back at him. For hours he wept by her body, cursing the rogues, and to this day his deep loathing has never left him. He longs for the lead rogue’s blood, for all of their blood, and will not stop until he spills it out across the ground. So fierce is his desire for revenge that he has long ago lapsed into insanity; he’s a true mad man. Still he feels Lucy’s ghost beside him, hears her cries for help go unanswered, and he walks about at night, muttering curses and talking to himself about all the ways he’d enjoy wreaking his revenge. A scar runs from the edge of his pale blonde hair down across his right eye, now misted over and unseeing from the damage of the blow, to his chin, cutting the right corner of his lips. His one good eye remains a marshy green colour, though pale and misty, and people often make the mistake of believing Rederick’s blind in both eyes; others, knowing he’s only truly blind in one eye, say he’s blind in both nonetheless. He is now 20 years of age.
Lucy, her name was, and Rederick was madly in love with her. She was perfect: extraordinarily beautiful and impossibly gentle of heart, and though he was imperfect, neither impressive of looks or skills, she loved him just as much as he loved her. His nights were filled with dreams of marrying her, running away with her to a beautiful little farmhouse, and he promised himself he would make it happen. So he worked hard as a tailor and saved up every coin he earned until at last he had enough to purchase a ring almost as beautiful as she was. On a fine Summer’s day Rederick took her out into the forest and down to the river, where they sat by the water, hand in hand. Moments away from proposing to her, however, disaster struck. Rogues attacked. The rogues seized Lucy, tried to take her away, but Rederick fought with every ounce of strength he had to save her. It was still not enough. The leader of the rogues stepped forward, drew his knife, and before Rederick could dodge the blow slashed him across the face in a diagonal line from hair to chin, across his right eye. With his one good eye he watched them take her away before he fell into unconsciousness. When he came to, unable to see out of his right eye, he stumbled after their trail, calling Lucy’s name, but when he found her he was far too late. Her eyes, grey and lifeless, stared back at him. For hours he wept by her body, cursing the rogues, and to this day his deep loathing has never left him. He longs for the lead rogue’s blood, for all of their blood, and will not stop until he spills it out across the ground. So fierce is his desire for revenge that he has long ago lapsed into insanity; he’s a true mad man. Still he feels Lucy’s ghost beside him, hears her cries for help go unanswered, and he walks about at night, muttering curses and talking to himself about all the ways he’d enjoy wreaking his revenge. A scar runs from the edge of his pale blonde hair down across his right eye, now misted over and unseeing from the damage of the blow, to his chin, cutting the right corner of his lips. His one good eye remains a marshy green colour, though pale and misty, and people often make the mistake of believing Rederick’s blind in both eyes; others, knowing he’s only truly blind in one eye, say he’s blind in both nonetheless. He is now 20 years of age.
WarHorse- Posts : 1457
Join date : 2009-11-12
Age : 30
Location : Iscrit... Amongst countless other places in my head...
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