Post by geo on Dec 28, 2009 20:43:27 GMT -5
Rough Draft. Very Rough Draft. Thoughts are welcome.
Name: Rylem Rye-lem
Gender: Male
Age: 27
Place of Birth: Palm Hold: Looks to Ista Hold
Parents: Mother (deceased) Reyn, Father: (Smith and Ex-Guard) Krelan
Occupation: Guard
Physical Description: Training has been a benefactor to this young man. Standing at an average height, with an average build, and no extremely visible muscles, one wouldn’t think it, but he’s in great shape. Many long circuits around the training ground, and subsequent Holds have kept his legs strong and toned, while other workouts have done wonderful things for the rest of his body. Despite this many will find it hard to take him serious when he’s out of uniform, for he still retains a look of youth on his face. No scars dot his body, and the odd brown freckle can be seen on occasion on his arms.
As for everything else, he keeps it within the regulations for a Guard, light brown hair cut high and tight, dark blue eyes serious both on and off duty, uniform and weapons clean and serviced. If there is one odd thing about this guard, it’s that his voice varies from a pleasant mellow tone when conversing off duty, to a gruff deep tone when on duty. This of course could be blamed on training, but there was the matter of his coughing sickness almost ten Turns ago that certainly played a role in this as well.
Personality: Rylem is energetic, professional, enthusiastic, skilled, youthful, and perhaps a bit naïve. As the saying in the Guard goes, he has yet to ‘See the Dragon’ and so in his mind he is unbeatable. Blood, death, and loss, are unknown and things that happen to other people far away, things that are of no concern. Much of how he acts was beaten into him by the Drill Instructors of the Hall. Be a gentleman he was told, be professional, be polite, but *never* trust anyone. He tries to live up to this mantra, but finds it hard on occasion.
History: Rylem keeps his past under tight wraps. When his mother died out at sea, plying her trade as a Fisherwoman, things went from a happy teenage life to a horrible, painful thing that was unable to be solved by his father. The old man had enough to do, providing for his son and himself, and a few years went by with Rylem unofficially apprenticing to the smithcraft as his father’s assistant. At twenty three he hit a breaking point, an emotional point where his father, an ex-guard and tired of the moping way his son went about life, cornered his son and gave him two options. Either officially start smithcrafting and head to the hall, or man up and see what the guards could make out of him. Well, the idea of sweating all day over a forge didn’t quite appeal to Rylem so he set off for High Reaches and the shock of his life.
It’s often said that the guards make men out of boys, and Rylem was no different. Assigned to Fort Company, Brown Platoon basic training took twelve Sevendays of his life and made him a totally different person. He was broken down, yelled at, made to do more physical training that he’d done in the rest of his life, yelled at when he didn’t do the above perfectly, and slowly but surely figured out the system. Then, he got mad, mad at the system, at the men running it, and knew he had to finish, had to make it to week twelve, when he could put on that uniform, salute the Instructors, know that he’d beaten them, and could do anything he wanted. He finished alright, but the anger had faded and turned into something else. Pride. He was a guard, and a guard better than any other for Fort Company (Training) was noted for its swordsmen, just as Telgar Company (Training) was noted for archers. Yes, he had a future and a destiny. Pirates and thieves became eagerly sought things, and as he stood duty first at High Reaches and then at Ista the older Senior Guardsmen would simply smile and tell him to be thankful. Out in the islands was where the real action was they’d say, and in his heart he knew that’s where he wanted to go. So there he went, hired for a year at Sunset Holding, a minor hold on the coast noted for it’s Holders sensibility in hiring Guild trained guards. A Turn passed at the Hold and he grew restless again. No action, no glory. So he went looking again for hire and heard of an offer at Horizon Hold.
Name: Rylem Rye-lem
Gender: Male
Age: 27
Place of Birth: Palm Hold: Looks to Ista Hold
Parents: Mother (deceased) Reyn, Father: (Smith and Ex-Guard) Krelan
Occupation: Guard
Physical Description: Training has been a benefactor to this young man. Standing at an average height, with an average build, and no extremely visible muscles, one wouldn’t think it, but he’s in great shape. Many long circuits around the training ground, and subsequent Holds have kept his legs strong and toned, while other workouts have done wonderful things for the rest of his body. Despite this many will find it hard to take him serious when he’s out of uniform, for he still retains a look of youth on his face. No scars dot his body, and the odd brown freckle can be seen on occasion on his arms.
As for everything else, he keeps it within the regulations for a Guard, light brown hair cut high and tight, dark blue eyes serious both on and off duty, uniform and weapons clean and serviced. If there is one odd thing about this guard, it’s that his voice varies from a pleasant mellow tone when conversing off duty, to a gruff deep tone when on duty. This of course could be blamed on training, but there was the matter of his coughing sickness almost ten Turns ago that certainly played a role in this as well.
Personality: Rylem is energetic, professional, enthusiastic, skilled, youthful, and perhaps a bit naïve. As the saying in the Guard goes, he has yet to ‘See the Dragon’ and so in his mind he is unbeatable. Blood, death, and loss, are unknown and things that happen to other people far away, things that are of no concern. Much of how he acts was beaten into him by the Drill Instructors of the Hall. Be a gentleman he was told, be professional, be polite, but *never* trust anyone. He tries to live up to this mantra, but finds it hard on occasion.
History: Rylem keeps his past under tight wraps. When his mother died out at sea, plying her trade as a Fisherwoman, things went from a happy teenage life to a horrible, painful thing that was unable to be solved by his father. The old man had enough to do, providing for his son and himself, and a few years went by with Rylem unofficially apprenticing to the smithcraft as his father’s assistant. At twenty three he hit a breaking point, an emotional point where his father, an ex-guard and tired of the moping way his son went about life, cornered his son and gave him two options. Either officially start smithcrafting and head to the hall, or man up and see what the guards could make out of him. Well, the idea of sweating all day over a forge didn’t quite appeal to Rylem so he set off for High Reaches and the shock of his life.
It’s often said that the guards make men out of boys, and Rylem was no different. Assigned to Fort Company, Brown Platoon basic training took twelve Sevendays of his life and made him a totally different person. He was broken down, yelled at, made to do more physical training that he’d done in the rest of his life, yelled at when he didn’t do the above perfectly, and slowly but surely figured out the system. Then, he got mad, mad at the system, at the men running it, and knew he had to finish, had to make it to week twelve, when he could put on that uniform, salute the Instructors, know that he’d beaten them, and could do anything he wanted. He finished alright, but the anger had faded and turned into something else. Pride. He was a guard, and a guard better than any other for Fort Company (Training) was noted for its swordsmen, just as Telgar Company (Training) was noted for archers. Yes, he had a future and a destiny. Pirates and thieves became eagerly sought things, and as he stood duty first at High Reaches and then at Ista the older Senior Guardsmen would simply smile and tell him to be thankful. Out in the islands was where the real action was they’d say, and in his heart he knew that’s where he wanted to go. So there he went, hired for a year at Sunset Holding, a minor hold on the coast noted for it’s Holders sensibility in hiring Guild trained guards. A Turn passed at the Hold and he grew restless again. No action, no glory. So he went looking again for hire and heard of an offer at Horizon Hold.
You've given him flaws--pride, naievete, and the illusion of immortality--to balance his abilities. I loved the phrase, "never 'Seen the Dragon' ". That's a nice Pernese expression for a universal concept. What's his favorite color? Favorite game? Biggest temptation?
