| Roland; Wayfairer Pirate | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Nov 29 2017, 02:38 AM (29 Views) | |
| Temporary | Nov 29 2017, 02:38 AM Post #1 |
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Name: Roland Gender: Male Class: Pirate - [Uses Axes] - Prefers to wield his trusty iron axe. Alignment: Chaotic Neutral - Roland fights on his own terms above the law, and isn't afraid to crack some skulls who resist. Unlike other bandits, however, he is highly unlikely to all the possessions of one person and tends not to kill people who get in his way. Dragon Element: N/A Age: 35 Born in: The Western Isles Appearance: A well defined but somehow unkempt man, Roland stands out in a crowd, reaching about 6' 3" and weighing in at 250 (two-hundred fifty) pounds. His skin, naturally white, is a light cocoa brown from constant exposure to the sun, contrasting his stark while tangle of a mess he calls hair - which seems to be only rarely cut by hand with a knife. At it's farthest point, the tangled locks reach about halfway down his back, random ties and natural knots peppering it. He lacks facial hair, though white stubble all around his mouth is always visible. His eyes, a simple black, seem lazy at first glance. Along his arms and across his nose are discolored whitish scars from several battles. He typically tends to wear rags, and what little armor he does don is usually sturdy leather and the like - forgoing typical armament. Personality: Without a true education, Roland's speech pattern is a tad on the 'lowborn' side, though he is by no means stupid. He tends to think through the situation and what would work best for him, which often involves avoiding combat. He understands what it means to have little - and is highly unlikely to make demands from the people he steals from that would put them in a tight spot. Though a life of constant naval travel and combat would take its' toll on most, Roland seems mostly unaffected. When he isn't demanding payment - he is actually very lax and friendly, preferring to sort things out over a drink rather than a fist-fight. He warms up to new people rather fast - and he seems to gravitate an aura that has the same sort of affect on other people. Even when raiding, he keeps up a certain air of politeness that often catches most off guard. He dislikes having to deal with kids - more of an impersonal fear rather than personal dislike, and though he wouldn't mind a partner for an night he is not a skirt chaser. Contrary to popular stereotype, Roland doesn't tend to be a heavy drinker outside of parties. He often uses the money he earns to support his ramshackle village back home. History: Roland was born the in the Western Isles - a desolate and poverty stricken chain of islands that almost all who live their suffer a painful or meaningless end. Though born as the first, and only, child of a loving couple - Roland's life was not easy by any means. Raised in the best conditions his parents could offer, he still grew up in the slums, surrounded by crime and hatred, never truly knowing the joy of a birthday or a day where you could relax. The cutthroat conditions led his father to take up the main occupation of the isles, piracy. Raiding was one of the only jobs that could truly support a family of any size back on the isles. This, of course, meant taking on all the risk that came with it. When his father was out on a 'trip' (as his parents called it), he often found work at the ripe age of five, cutting wood with an axe for the tavern's fireplace. The extra coinage went a long way, despite his mothers' reservations that a young child should have to work so early. Five more years went by without a hitch - until his father eventually perished on a voyage at sea. Left alone with his mother, the ten year-old Roland took it upon himself to be the sole provider for them. Working honest jobs was, after some time, obviously not enough. For his first taste of banditry, Roland turned to a local gang - thugs who paid helpers a modest share for assisting in raiding caravans, armed or not. This was when Roland truly got his first taste for combat, even if it was against quavering merchants with bronze lances. With the economy only ever growing worse, even this form of larceny soon proved to be inefficient for bringing in coin. Roland turned to more radical and radical methods, be it robbing a store itself to mugging what little upper-class there was left where he could plan it right. His escapades caught up with Roland, by this time seventeen, and he was captured and sentenced to forced labor on ships. Though he agonized over not having the means to help his mother, by this time certainly turning the wheel of age, he was learning other valuable skills. Preferred trade routes, methods on how to avoid bandits, and experience traveling on and working on ships. It was a decade and a half later when he was finally released, quickly taking his newfound skills onto the high seas to once again gather support for those he cares about. NPC fight: "Right. You've heard the speil a hundred times. Hand over your goods yada yada... on the bright side for you, I'm only asking half the going rate - how does that sound?" The traveler simply glared at him and drew his sound, muttering something along the line of 'filthy bandits.' Gerald sighed and cracked his neck, hefting his axe but not charging in. "Whenever you're ready, snowflake." The man snarled and charged forward, sword swung overhead. The blade was halted by the flat side of Gerald's axe, and uselessly skidded off, slighting unbalancing the attacker. Gerald shot his leg up, knee catching the man in the face. He yelped and stumbled back, and Gerald followed up with a quick headbutt to knock him out, grimacing at the sensation. "I keep forgetting not to do that..." He muttered, rustling through the other man's possessions. PC fight: A lance whiffed by Gerald's head, and the pirate quickly stepped away, knowing full well a glancing blow from his axe against heavy armor would be pointless. "You seem a little distraught, eh knighty" The armored opponent said nothing and simply drew back in, approaching cautiously. "I'm telling ya, I ain't the bandit you're looking for. Killing is not part of my MO." Gerald said, half pleadingly. "I really don't want to fight ya-" He was cut off by a another lance thrust, followed this time by a shield bash. The weapon narrowly missed again, but the large piece of metal impacted Gerald, sending him stumbling a few paces back, gasping for breath. "...Aight." He said. "You have this coming!" |
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12:13 AM Jul 11