Kelran Artasia
Jul 4, 2008 12:28:47 GMT -5
Post by Vedrit{(==)}Kelran on Jul 4, 2008 12:28:47 GMT -5
Full Name: Kelran Artasia
Other name: Kel
Race:: Elf
Side: Neutral
Birthplace: Du Weldenvarden
Age: Looks to be mid-twenties, is 96
Gender: Male
Birthday: Early spring
Eyes: Light green. A little bit lighter than emeralds.
Hair: A very light brown, usually combed into an organized mess
Weight: 206 lbs.
Height: 5' 9"
Magic User: Yes
Preferred Weapon(s): Two very thin swords that can come together. Dwarven crafted of fine metals.
Personality: He is never out spoken, but knows when to hold his tongue. He prefers things layed back, but gets antsy when he has somewhere to be but cant or gets slowed down. He tends to be nervous around women, so he tries to keep things casual to avoid tension. He is smart, but doesn't always think things through.
Appearance: He has very compact muscles, which came with intense training. He has many scars from his "short thinking", refusing to heal them as a reminder.
He carries his swords together in a sheath slung across his back.
For clothes, he wears something like a white trench coat with leather trimming, a light grey shirt and a darker grey colored pants and black boots finishes his attire.
Likes/Dislikes: Likes to improve his swordsmanship and relaxing. Discussing the finer points of fighting techniques is something that enthralls him.
He hates to be delayed, and having to fight at a distance.
Has a slight fear of heights.
Strengths: Melee combat, especially swords. Magic.
Weakness: Bows, wouldn't be able to hit the ground with one. Doesn't pay much attention to details.
Family: His father was a craftsman, who often went to the many dwarf villages and towns. After he met his wife and had Kelran, he would take them with him.
Kelrans mother was an herbalist, who loved to sing to plants into breath-taking shapes and forms, and appreciated others skills.
Brief History: Kelrans first trip to the dwarven mountains was shortly after his birth. A dwarf friend of his father gave the sword Kelran now uses as a gift, with much thanks from the parents.
When they returned to Du Weldenvarden it was decided that Kelran and his mother would remain in the forest, "Where a young man should be raised." his father said, so that Kelran could learn how to use his gifts and abilities among those of his own kind.
As Kelran grew, he was given lessons in the usual things; art, history, Ancient Language, swordsmanship, etc, etc.
His skills grew quickly, except for with bows, and he was soon the star of those his age with a sword, his father always there when needed to show his support.
He occasionally had disputes between himself and those who were his teachers. His ideas of what, and how, things were taught was very different than those of his teachers. But since these occasions were few, they were not heated disputes, but merely discussions on the finer teaching methods.
When he was about 60, his parents, reluctantly, decided he was old enough to venture out and see more than the forest or dwarven mountains. One can only be taught so much.
Anything extra: Kel leaned his chair against the wall, soaking in the anger radiating from the men in the pub. Kel had said a few words to many to a group of drunk Empire-die-hards. He was anticipating a fight, and wanted it. Without any good opponent to spar with, he was [sarcasm] sure [/sarcasm] his skill had diminished, and this bar fight would warm him up.
"Wipe that smirk off your face or we'll cut it off." One of the men said with a heavy slurr and an unsteady stance, one hand holding a mug of what must be fermented urine with plenty of the mans backwash added. His other hand went to the sword belted to his side.
Kelrans smirk grew into a grin, "Lets see what that rusty hunk of junk can do." he said as he stood and drawing his sword, waiting to split it.
The man, red in his drunken fury, threw the tables aside, his mug slipping from his grasp as shattering on the floor a few feet away, and drew his sword with a shaking hand.
Kelran whirled his blade through the air with a satisfying whistle before pointing it at the mans face.
Another man drew his sword and charged in a staggering run.
Kelran quickly separated his swords and countered the second man in a flurry of steel of one sword, the other sword still pointing at the first man, daring him to move.
"I don't think this will end well for you." Kel said, trying to give the men another chance to walk away.
Password: [[Admin Edit]]
Other name: Kel
Race:: Elf
Side: Neutral
Birthplace: Du Weldenvarden
Age: Looks to be mid-twenties, is 96
Gender: Male
Birthday: Early spring
Eyes: Light green. A little bit lighter than emeralds.
Hair: A very light brown, usually combed into an organized mess
Weight: 206 lbs.
Height: 5' 9"
Magic User: Yes
Preferred Weapon(s): Two very thin swords that can come together. Dwarven crafted of fine metals.
Personality: He is never out spoken, but knows when to hold his tongue. He prefers things layed back, but gets antsy when he has somewhere to be but cant or gets slowed down. He tends to be nervous around women, so he tries to keep things casual to avoid tension. He is smart, but doesn't always think things through.
Appearance: He has very compact muscles, which came with intense training. He has many scars from his "short thinking", refusing to heal them as a reminder.
He carries his swords together in a sheath slung across his back.
For clothes, he wears something like a white trench coat with leather trimming, a light grey shirt and a darker grey colored pants and black boots finishes his attire.
Likes/Dislikes: Likes to improve his swordsmanship and relaxing. Discussing the finer points of fighting techniques is something that enthralls him.
He hates to be delayed, and having to fight at a distance.
Has a slight fear of heights.
Strengths: Melee combat, especially swords. Magic.
Weakness: Bows, wouldn't be able to hit the ground with one. Doesn't pay much attention to details.
Family: His father was a craftsman, who often went to the many dwarf villages and towns. After he met his wife and had Kelran, he would take them with him.
Kelrans mother was an herbalist, who loved to sing to plants into breath-taking shapes and forms, and appreciated others skills.
Brief History: Kelrans first trip to the dwarven mountains was shortly after his birth. A dwarf friend of his father gave the sword Kelran now uses as a gift, with much thanks from the parents.
When they returned to Du Weldenvarden it was decided that Kelran and his mother would remain in the forest, "Where a young man should be raised." his father said, so that Kelran could learn how to use his gifts and abilities among those of his own kind.
As Kelran grew, he was given lessons in the usual things; art, history, Ancient Language, swordsmanship, etc, etc.
His skills grew quickly, except for with bows, and he was soon the star of those his age with a sword, his father always there when needed to show his support.
He occasionally had disputes between himself and those who were his teachers. His ideas of what, and how, things were taught was very different than those of his teachers. But since these occasions were few, they were not heated disputes, but merely discussions on the finer teaching methods.
When he was about 60, his parents, reluctantly, decided he was old enough to venture out and see more than the forest or dwarven mountains. One can only be taught so much.
Anything extra: Kel leaned his chair against the wall, soaking in the anger radiating from the men in the pub. Kel had said a few words to many to a group of drunk Empire-die-hards. He was anticipating a fight, and wanted it. Without any good opponent to spar with, he was [sarcasm] sure [/sarcasm] his skill had diminished, and this bar fight would warm him up.
"Wipe that smirk off your face or we'll cut it off." One of the men said with a heavy slurr and an unsteady stance, one hand holding a mug of what must be fermented urine with plenty of the mans backwash added. His other hand went to the sword belted to his side.
Kelrans smirk grew into a grin, "Lets see what that rusty hunk of junk can do." he said as he stood and drawing his sword, waiting to split it.
The man, red in his drunken fury, threw the tables aside, his mug slipping from his grasp as shattering on the floor a few feet away, and drew his sword with a shaking hand.
Kelran whirled his blade through the air with a satisfying whistle before pointing it at the mans face.
Another man drew his sword and charged in a staggering run.
Kelran quickly separated his swords and countered the second man in a flurry of steel of one sword, the other sword still pointing at the first man, daring him to move.
"I don't think this will end well for you." Kel said, trying to give the men another chance to walk away.
Password: [[Admin Edit]]
