Ulrich Gestrin Von Waldrom (Need opinons!)
Feb 5, 2007 0:04:58 GMT -5
Post by Ulrich Gestrin Von Waldrom on Feb 5, 2007 0:04:58 GMT -5
Full Name: Ulrich Gestrin Von Waldrom
Other names:
Nickname-Captain
Alias- Jurgen Kaspar
Race:: Human
Side: Neutral (But leaning towords the Varden)
Birthplace: Reavstone
Age: Thirty
Gender: Male
Birthday: Augest twenty-sixth
Eyes: Teal, flecked with gold. (He's only got one... The right.
)
Hair: Short, lank and crimson.
Weight: Eighty-two kilos
Height: 5'8
Magic User: No
Descritption: Ulrich dresses as one might expect of a pirate, that is to say, light. Life on a ship is hard and rough, clothing needs to be well woven to keep out the chill and biteing breeze on the northren waters yet loose and fine enough to be easily manuvered in and while maintaing the streanth in the fibers. A tall order for even the finest loomers and weavers, but not an impossible one.
His pants are made of durable black cloth, cut to fit snugly about his his legs while maintaining versitility of movements and streanth, midway up his right thigh several peices of brightly colored cloth are tied cut to specific sizes to hang down the leanth of his leg stopping just short of his calf-high leather booths, the boots are hobnail and buckled with greening bronze, but durable and tough, not easily penetrated but the spars and other such things that might fall on the deck of the ship or that a sailor might step on while out at sea, the boots are lined with felt to keep the feet warm and prevent the hard leather that would otherwise cause abrasions on the leg despite the well-worn leather.
Around his waist a gold sash holds dominence, holding his pants snug against his waist to prevent them from sagging and creating slack that could get caught on the riggings or on large splinters while shipborn, the second belt is heavier and much more elaborate, circling his waist at a jaunty angle secured by a front loop instead of a buckle the tounqe of the belt just down across his groin, the belt itself is made of brownish leather and secures a heavy ships cutlass to Ulrich's left side, the cutlass itself isent ornate, but mirroing the set up on his leg a series of multi-dyed peices of cloth hang from the basket hilt, all tied in such a way that if caught on something they'll easily pull free but wont fall off on their own. The blade of the cutlass is jagged as if the edge were broken in a long lost battle, despite this Ulrich seems to care deeply for the plain blade as it rarely leaves his possesion.
Also thrust through the the back of his belt on the left side is a light mooring hachet, fashioned with a blunt head meant for pounding spikes and a sharp blade meant for cutting ropes line and rope. On his right side, discreetly shoved at an angle through his sash is a small poinard.
His shirt is billowy and laced in the front, made of light cloth and dyed a dark gray to clash with his pants and the heavy leather vest he wears over the shirt. On his left arm he wears a the same mix of colored cloth as on his leg and sword. The vest dosent close across his chest and is instead fixed with several loop belts across his front exposeing the shirt beneath from the sternum to the edge of his belt, providing the light protection favored by most sailors while leaveing him with plenty freedom of movement, the vest itself is black and unyeilding, with an inner layer of light ringmail followed by felt, designed to protect him, give him movement and allow him to easily discard it should he go overboard and find himself unable to stay afloat.
Adorning his head is a simple gold bandana the stops sweat from running into his eye's, his red hair, lank from yeas of sea-manship falls lank across the band partly obscuring it from veiw. He also wears a scarlett eyepatch, cutting down across his face to cover his left eye. The eyepatch itself is studded with a myriad of black beads, arranged in a pattern to spell out "passion" in the ancient language.
Facial and body features: Ulrich's face is deeply tanned, his eyes are rounded and his face is angular in nature, with a wide slightly cleft jaw and high cheekbones, the bridge of his nose is spattered with several light freckles. His face is clean-shaven most of the time but it’s not uncommon for a slight five-o-clock shadow on his face to be present on his face after a particularly hard night of womanising and drinking.
His hair is a deep crimson in color, made lank by years of salthingyer-spray, the hair itself is pulled back into a victorian ponytail at the nape of his neck.
His body is corded and musceled, without a hint of baby-fat, tensed in all of the right places and just as tan as his face, it's a body used to crawling up narrow ropes and shooting across slippery decks while carrying heavy loads. Indeed he would be a fine specimen if it wasent for his missing eye... Well... Not really missing per-sey... Instead it's a sightless orb white as marble encased in the socket... There's somethign unnatural about it, most likelyy the wounds the result of some spell used on him during his capture.
Preferred Weapon(s): Heavy basket-hilted cutlass, a mooring hachet and a small poinard.
Personality: A hero and a villain, a nightmare and a dream, evil and good all rolled into one prepackaged vengeful self-serving persona…
Well… He’s a pirate for starters, as many of you might guess that mean’s he’s rough, shrewd, alcoholic and slightly demented. Well… None of you know the half of it! Ulrich is a loud headstrong and ambitious man… The rough and tough man of the sea that ports-women warn their daughters about and ports-men tell stories of in the back of the pub. But what is he really? A hero of the poor? A greedy villain? To be honest, he’s whatever he wants to be. Unbound by moral constraints Ulrich is “Honest” as his limited eloquence allows him to state. He’s rash and impulsive, and although he’s not the most original thinker in the box he’s sharply clever in his dealings, a master sailor and naval tactician who wasent born with any great amount of brains but draws on his wealth of life experiences to pull himself through thick and thin.
He’s a strange man still… Behind the lusty braggart that many know, is a fiery madness, a madness pounded into him by the same experience that took his ship and crew from him. His capture by the empire… He still bears the physical and mental scars should one manage to look closely enough, perhaps while he’s passed out in the lap of a bar-girl… When the subject of the emipre or the “king” comes up in conversation he’s the first to snort and spit… For you see, he may be self serving… He may be rash and impetuous… Hell he’s even a bit jolly once a few pints have entered his system, but if there’s one thing he isent… It’s forgiving. After his capture he came back bearing a heavy curse in his heart, the lives of his murdered crew as strong a brand as the large “P” burned into his wrist. He carries with him the hate of fifty men and women slaughtered like pigs, along with his own intense hatred for the Empire, the realm that forced him to watch his beloved ship burn to the ground to watch his crew cut to pieces by Urgals, to only survive by the skin of his teeth.
He loves the smell of mint, the taste of it… Almost as much as he sadistically loves the sight of blood… Empire blood.
However despite this intense hatred of the empire he’s avoided tying himself up with groups like the Varden however even he seems to realize such things can only be temporary as the final confrontation grows ever nearer… As his options for finding a new ship and crew dry up his choices narrow.
Likes/Dislikes: Likes~ The smell of mint and blood, he also enjoys strong and exotic drinks and prides himself on being a bit of a conosuir. He also enjoys the compony of women and has the rather unsavory habit of visiting brothels or conducting business in them.
Dislikes~ Well... Alot, just about anything that dosent make him happy or bring him pleasure in any way.
Oh... And Vavrinec, she is the shade that tortured him after all.
Family: None really.
Brief History: Born in Reavestone to a mother he never knew and a father he never had a chance to really know. A father who entrusted his child to uncareing neighbors... Ulrich was your typical street urchin, living his life day to day, fighting to survive. Once he was old enough, he began crewing out on ships, ranging from small fishing sloops to large transport galleons even a few military ships. His early life instilled his most important belief… Love the sea… And she’ll love you right back.
At the age of sixteen he became the cabin boy on a military sloop bound for one of the ports farther down the coast, during this voyage he would meet with destiny… The ship was attacked by pirates, the vessel fell quickly against the warriors of the sea. Prisoners taken, plunder collected… The call to join went out, and as good surda loving soldiers none stepped forward, none except the sea-tough cabin boy.
Thus his adventure began, an adventure that eventually brought him into possession of his own ship and crew at the age of twenty-three… He grew a hard reputation praying on Empire and Surdan ships alike staying ahead of the attempts to catch him like a phantom. That is… Until the day he and his crew were finnaly caught.
They’d been forced to shore to wait out a particularly nasty storm in the north when they hit… Soldiers in the service of the Empire, the crew though hardy men of the sea didn’t stand a chance. Killed before many of them could even stumble to their weapons.
[[Details of history have been removed to deter the chance of plot spoilers.]] - Vavrinec
Since then he’s made his way back to Surda and he begun searching for a new ship and crew to carry out his revenge against the empire.
(I know the history sucked… But im not good at writing tragic histories… Better with personalities...
)
Anything extra: Well... Not much really, he's an expert sailor and naval tactician as I mentioned, but that's about it.
Well... Plot's thicken ladies and gentlemen... Im sure you'll love how this char ends up!
Other names:
Nickname-Captain
Alias- Jurgen Kaspar
Race:: Human
Side: Neutral (But leaning towords the Varden)
Birthplace: Reavstone
Age: Thirty
Gender: Male
Birthday: Augest twenty-sixth
Eyes: Teal, flecked with gold. (He's only got one... The right.
)Hair: Short, lank and crimson.
Weight: Eighty-two kilos
Height: 5'8
Magic User: No
Descritption: Ulrich dresses as one might expect of a pirate, that is to say, light. Life on a ship is hard and rough, clothing needs to be well woven to keep out the chill and biteing breeze on the northren waters yet loose and fine enough to be easily manuvered in and while maintaing the streanth in the fibers. A tall order for even the finest loomers and weavers, but not an impossible one.
His pants are made of durable black cloth, cut to fit snugly about his his legs while maintaining versitility of movements and streanth, midway up his right thigh several peices of brightly colored cloth are tied cut to specific sizes to hang down the leanth of his leg stopping just short of his calf-high leather booths, the boots are hobnail and buckled with greening bronze, but durable and tough, not easily penetrated but the spars and other such things that might fall on the deck of the ship or that a sailor might step on while out at sea, the boots are lined with felt to keep the feet warm and prevent the hard leather that would otherwise cause abrasions on the leg despite the well-worn leather.
Around his waist a gold sash holds dominence, holding his pants snug against his waist to prevent them from sagging and creating slack that could get caught on the riggings or on large splinters while shipborn, the second belt is heavier and much more elaborate, circling his waist at a jaunty angle secured by a front loop instead of a buckle the tounqe of the belt just down across his groin, the belt itself is made of brownish leather and secures a heavy ships cutlass to Ulrich's left side, the cutlass itself isent ornate, but mirroing the set up on his leg a series of multi-dyed peices of cloth hang from the basket hilt, all tied in such a way that if caught on something they'll easily pull free but wont fall off on their own. The blade of the cutlass is jagged as if the edge were broken in a long lost battle, despite this Ulrich seems to care deeply for the plain blade as it rarely leaves his possesion.
Also thrust through the the back of his belt on the left side is a light mooring hachet, fashioned with a blunt head meant for pounding spikes and a sharp blade meant for cutting ropes line and rope. On his right side, discreetly shoved at an angle through his sash is a small poinard.
His shirt is billowy and laced in the front, made of light cloth and dyed a dark gray to clash with his pants and the heavy leather vest he wears over the shirt. On his left arm he wears a the same mix of colored cloth as on his leg and sword. The vest dosent close across his chest and is instead fixed with several loop belts across his front exposeing the shirt beneath from the sternum to the edge of his belt, providing the light protection favored by most sailors while leaveing him with plenty freedom of movement, the vest itself is black and unyeilding, with an inner layer of light ringmail followed by felt, designed to protect him, give him movement and allow him to easily discard it should he go overboard and find himself unable to stay afloat.
Adorning his head is a simple gold bandana the stops sweat from running into his eye's, his red hair, lank from yeas of sea-manship falls lank across the band partly obscuring it from veiw. He also wears a scarlett eyepatch, cutting down across his face to cover his left eye. The eyepatch itself is studded with a myriad of black beads, arranged in a pattern to spell out "passion" in the ancient language.
Facial and body features: Ulrich's face is deeply tanned, his eyes are rounded and his face is angular in nature, with a wide slightly cleft jaw and high cheekbones, the bridge of his nose is spattered with several light freckles. His face is clean-shaven most of the time but it’s not uncommon for a slight five-o-clock shadow on his face to be present on his face after a particularly hard night of womanising and drinking.
His hair is a deep crimson in color, made lank by years of salthingyer-spray, the hair itself is pulled back into a victorian ponytail at the nape of his neck.
His body is corded and musceled, without a hint of baby-fat, tensed in all of the right places and just as tan as his face, it's a body used to crawling up narrow ropes and shooting across slippery decks while carrying heavy loads. Indeed he would be a fine specimen if it wasent for his missing eye... Well... Not really missing per-sey... Instead it's a sightless orb white as marble encased in the socket... There's somethign unnatural about it, most likelyy the wounds the result of some spell used on him during his capture.
Preferred Weapon(s): Heavy basket-hilted cutlass, a mooring hachet and a small poinard.
Personality: A hero and a villain, a nightmare and a dream, evil and good all rolled into one prepackaged vengeful self-serving persona…
Well… He’s a pirate for starters, as many of you might guess that mean’s he’s rough, shrewd, alcoholic and slightly demented. Well… None of you know the half of it! Ulrich is a loud headstrong and ambitious man… The rough and tough man of the sea that ports-women warn their daughters about and ports-men tell stories of in the back of the pub. But what is he really? A hero of the poor? A greedy villain? To be honest, he’s whatever he wants to be. Unbound by moral constraints Ulrich is “Honest” as his limited eloquence allows him to state. He’s rash and impulsive, and although he’s not the most original thinker in the box he’s sharply clever in his dealings, a master sailor and naval tactician who wasent born with any great amount of brains but draws on his wealth of life experiences to pull himself through thick and thin.
He’s a strange man still… Behind the lusty braggart that many know, is a fiery madness, a madness pounded into him by the same experience that took his ship and crew from him. His capture by the empire… He still bears the physical and mental scars should one manage to look closely enough, perhaps while he’s passed out in the lap of a bar-girl… When the subject of the emipre or the “king” comes up in conversation he’s the first to snort and spit… For you see, he may be self serving… He may be rash and impetuous… Hell he’s even a bit jolly once a few pints have entered his system, but if there’s one thing he isent… It’s forgiving. After his capture he came back bearing a heavy curse in his heart, the lives of his murdered crew as strong a brand as the large “P” burned into his wrist. He carries with him the hate of fifty men and women slaughtered like pigs, along with his own intense hatred for the Empire, the realm that forced him to watch his beloved ship burn to the ground to watch his crew cut to pieces by Urgals, to only survive by the skin of his teeth.
He loves the smell of mint, the taste of it… Almost as much as he sadistically loves the sight of blood… Empire blood.
However despite this intense hatred of the empire he’s avoided tying himself up with groups like the Varden however even he seems to realize such things can only be temporary as the final confrontation grows ever nearer… As his options for finding a new ship and crew dry up his choices narrow.
Likes/Dislikes: Likes~ The smell of mint and blood, he also enjoys strong and exotic drinks and prides himself on being a bit of a conosuir. He also enjoys the compony of women and has the rather unsavory habit of visiting brothels or conducting business in them.
Dislikes~ Well... Alot, just about anything that dosent make him happy or bring him pleasure in any way.
Oh... And Vavrinec, she is the shade that tortured him after all.
Family: None really.
Brief History: Born in Reavestone to a mother he never knew and a father he never had a chance to really know. A father who entrusted his child to uncareing neighbors... Ulrich was your typical street urchin, living his life day to day, fighting to survive. Once he was old enough, he began crewing out on ships, ranging from small fishing sloops to large transport galleons even a few military ships. His early life instilled his most important belief… Love the sea… And she’ll love you right back.
At the age of sixteen he became the cabin boy on a military sloop bound for one of the ports farther down the coast, during this voyage he would meet with destiny… The ship was attacked by pirates, the vessel fell quickly against the warriors of the sea. Prisoners taken, plunder collected… The call to join went out, and as good surda loving soldiers none stepped forward, none except the sea-tough cabin boy.
Thus his adventure began, an adventure that eventually brought him into possession of his own ship and crew at the age of twenty-three… He grew a hard reputation praying on Empire and Surdan ships alike staying ahead of the attempts to catch him like a phantom. That is… Until the day he and his crew were finnaly caught.
They’d been forced to shore to wait out a particularly nasty storm in the north when they hit… Soldiers in the service of the Empire, the crew though hardy men of the sea didn’t stand a chance. Killed before many of them could even stumble to their weapons.
[[Details of history have been removed to deter the chance of plot spoilers.]] - Vavrinec
Since then he’s made his way back to Surda and he begun searching for a new ship and crew to carry out his revenge against the empire.
(I know the history sucked… But im not good at writing tragic histories… Better with personalities...
)Anything extra: Well... Not much really, he's an expert sailor and naval tactician as I mentioned, but that's about it.
Well... Plot's thicken ladies and gentlemen... Im sure you'll love how this char ends up!
))
;; *hides*
