Post by Geo Geek on May 10, 2007 0:25:23 GMT -5
Heimaey
A snow/ wood elf classed as a(n) Ranger/ Arcane Archer that hails from Helgafell. His father and mother are now deceased, from war and a broken heart. His bow skill are indescribable and his blade work could use a lesson or two.
He is dressed in dark to blend in with the utmost of nature and the only thing that sticks out on his clothing is the brooch on his cloak that is a mountain blue. His skin is a very pale color while his hair is a blondish white. He has arm tattoos, one exposed at all times to enchant his arrows.
He tends to stray from the masses and travels alone. He is more welcome to company of his friends rather than new faces. His chaotic side shows itself when facing a favored foe and he is not afraid to get a few cuts and bruises when time calls for it.
This is written in Elven Script, but translated to common.
Chapter 1: The Beginning
My story begins when I was a young elf. My mother was a daughter of Snow Elves. Their family flourished in the art of magic. My mother was smart and knew when to use her magic. My father was a son to Snow Elves. He grew up knowing how to use a blade and took to his art very young. Snow elves tend to be a little more less forgiving due to the cold and banishment from Faerun, but some have the capability to forget such banishing times. Our skin is a tinge of blue, our hair very light and we have become adept to the cold.
After years of training, my father joined the military and fought to defend his homeland and his culture. He met my mother while his battalion resupplied in her settlement. They instantly fell in love; and joined forces in the 3rd war, mother an Archmage, father a Firstsword. After the war ended, my mother and father moved to the elven settlement of Helga-fell, a nice place with lots of snow and trees, and decided to have a child. This is where I come in.
Several years after having me, my father was called back to combat. Now as a General in the Elven military, he saw more combat than the third war. His battalion was constantly on the move to defend Faerun. After upper Faerun was secured, his battalion was ordered to find the drow General and put an end to this conflict. It was then when my father met his match. He had feared for this day and yet, was ready for whatever the Underdark threw at him. Within arms length from the General, my father, was attacked by a drow assassin, which was ordered to seek out the general of the offensive army and slay him. A surge of pain from his side ended my father’s life within moments.
It was not long before my mother found out about my father. She attempted to raise me to the best of her knowledge, alone and dead inside. I was 26 when my mother went to our Father and Protector. I wear a locket of my mother's to keep her close to my heart, and I wield my father's blade to keep my enemies at bay.
A snow/ wood elf classed as a(n) Ranger/ Arcane Archer that hails from Helgafell. His father and mother are now deceased, from war and a broken heart. His bow skill are indescribable and his blade work could use a lesson or two.
He is dressed in dark to blend in with the utmost of nature and the only thing that sticks out on his clothing is the brooch on his cloak that is a mountain blue. His skin is a very pale color while his hair is a blondish white. He has arm tattoos, one exposed at all times to enchant his arrows.
He tends to stray from the masses and travels alone. He is more welcome to company of his friends rather than new faces. His chaotic side shows itself when facing a favored foe and he is not afraid to get a few cuts and bruises when time calls for it.
This is written in Elven Script, but translated to common.
Chapter 1: The Beginning
My story begins when I was a young elf. My mother was a daughter of Snow Elves. Their family flourished in the art of magic. My mother was smart and knew when to use her magic. My father was a son to Snow Elves. He grew up knowing how to use a blade and took to his art very young. Snow elves tend to be a little more less forgiving due to the cold and banishment from Faerun, but some have the capability to forget such banishing times. Our skin is a tinge of blue, our hair very light and we have become adept to the cold.
After years of training, my father joined the military and fought to defend his homeland and his culture. He met my mother while his battalion resupplied in her settlement. They instantly fell in love; and joined forces in the 3rd war, mother an Archmage, father a Firstsword. After the war ended, my mother and father moved to the elven settlement of Helga-fell, a nice place with lots of snow and trees, and decided to have a child. This is where I come in.
Several years after having me, my father was called back to combat. Now as a General in the Elven military, he saw more combat than the third war. His battalion was constantly on the move to defend Faerun. After upper Faerun was secured, his battalion was ordered to find the drow General and put an end to this conflict. It was then when my father met his match. He had feared for this day and yet, was ready for whatever the Underdark threw at him. Within arms length from the General, my father, was attacked by a drow assassin, which was ordered to seek out the general of the offensive army and slay him. A surge of pain from his side ended my father’s life within moments.
It was not long before my mother found out about my father. She attempted to raise me to the best of her knowledge, alone and dead inside. I was 26 when my mother went to our Father and Protector. I wear a locket of my mother's to keep her close to my heart, and I wield my father's blade to keep my enemies at bay.
