creeperpigs
Lord of Altera
Name: Tesios Albra Lurios
Nickname/Alias: The Elf of A Hundred Words
Age: 46
Gender: Male
Race: Elf
Height: 6' 7"
Weight: 136 lbs.
Hair: Silvery White, Short, with the front slightly spiked upward, the back ending like an arrowhead down to the tip of the top of the spine
Eyes: Forest Green w/ Golden Flecks
Skin: Icy Blue
Identifying Marks: Spiked hair and doesn't talk unless needed. Has a scar over left eye from a back-sword while in a death-match with an Orc.
Appearance: A faint indigo aura, Slight build
Strengths: An all-round person, though Specialist in Bows and Silence. Particularly fond of wolves and creatures of the night.
Weaknesses and fears: Lacks strength to steadily use a sword, hates Orcs.
Religion and cults: Strongly worships Mother Nature and Mother Moon.
Profession: Assassin, though generally takes whatever jobs he can get or come around to do.
Background:
It was a chill, silent night. The day was the sixth day of Hrívë, winter. I was the age of 36. I was out on my nightly stroll with Renagr, my most dear and trusted friend, as we have done so for the last 3 weeks to escape the fuss of our wives, who were nurturing our daughters. Renagr was only the age of 31. And was with me my whole life since the first exodus to escape the forever ravenous Orcs.
It was near midnight. We had just finished our stroll when we noticed it, the black, evil smoke cloud looming over the location where our huts stood, and the faint glow and smell of fire burning wood. Alarmed and worried, we quickly raced to our village huts, only to find nothing but ash and flame. The Orcs were quick, for we were on our stroll for no more than 2 hours. Renagr and I quickly parted to find our families. My hut was of the other side of the village. I got there and barely recognized it. The attack was very recent for my hut was still on fire and standing. I race inside. And stop at the entrance. Everything was in shambles and I was terrified by the scene before me, I race to my bedroom and witness the worst thing in my life. There, lying before me was my wife Badhril, and my daughter Maeassienn, dead, each with a sword wound in their heart. I was enraged by what had befallen to my family, but I had no time to mourn for the hut was collapsing.
I raced outside and found Renagr, with his wife and daughter. I stared into his eyes. He realized what had happened. He nodded. Then I ran off into the woods, following the stench and tracks of the Orcs, guided by only the moonlight. Within the hour I reached their camp. 14 of them there were, celebrating their victory. They all held knives and daggers, except for one, who held a sword. That was when I knew he was the one who killed my family. Anger told me to rush out and stab him, though I knew that was suicide. So I waited and waited. Soon the Orcs fell asleep, that was when I made my move. I walked to his tent, dagger ready, and was about to step in when something touched my shoulder. I quickly turn around to kill my attacker, but stop half swing when I noticed it was Renagr. He held out his dagger and nodded. Then we both stepped into the Orcs tent. We were about to strike when suddenly, he shot up a knife and threw it into Renagr in the chest. I checked his pulse. He was dead. I raced to the Orc, flailing my dagger. He dodged and down-swiped with his knife, which sliced me across my left eye. I quickly countered. And stabbed him in his heart. He screamed. And I quickly ran into the woods, feeling sorrow and happiness. I traveled south for many days. And soon came to a place called Altera. I now reside here. Making friends, trusting others, in hope that someway the void in my heart will be filled. I now reside in Cutthroat Cove as a pirate.
Nickname/Alias: The Elf of A Hundred Words
Age: 46
Gender: Male
Race: Elf
Height: 6' 7"
Weight: 136 lbs.
Hair: Silvery White, Short, with the front slightly spiked upward, the back ending like an arrowhead down to the tip of the top of the spine
Eyes: Forest Green w/ Golden Flecks
Skin: Icy Blue
Identifying Marks: Spiked hair and doesn't talk unless needed. Has a scar over left eye from a back-sword while in a death-match with an Orc.
Appearance: A faint indigo aura, Slight build
Strengths: An all-round person, though Specialist in Bows and Silence. Particularly fond of wolves and creatures of the night.
Weaknesses and fears: Lacks strength to steadily use a sword, hates Orcs.
Religion and cults: Strongly worships Mother Nature and Mother Moon.
Profession: Assassin, though generally takes whatever jobs he can get or come around to do.
Background:
It was a chill, silent night. The day was the sixth day of Hrívë, winter. I was the age of 36. I was out on my nightly stroll with Renagr, my most dear and trusted friend, as we have done so for the last 3 weeks to escape the fuss of our wives, who were nurturing our daughters. Renagr was only the age of 31. And was with me my whole life since the first exodus to escape the forever ravenous Orcs.
It was near midnight. We had just finished our stroll when we noticed it, the black, evil smoke cloud looming over the location where our huts stood, and the faint glow and smell of fire burning wood. Alarmed and worried, we quickly raced to our village huts, only to find nothing but ash and flame. The Orcs were quick, for we were on our stroll for no more than 2 hours. Renagr and I quickly parted to find our families. My hut was of the other side of the village. I got there and barely recognized it. The attack was very recent for my hut was still on fire and standing. I race inside. And stop at the entrance. Everything was in shambles and I was terrified by the scene before me, I race to my bedroom and witness the worst thing in my life. There, lying before me was my wife Badhril, and my daughter Maeassienn, dead, each with a sword wound in their heart. I was enraged by what had befallen to my family, but I had no time to mourn for the hut was collapsing.
I raced outside and found Renagr, with his wife and daughter. I stared into his eyes. He realized what had happened. He nodded. Then I ran off into the woods, following the stench and tracks of the Orcs, guided by only the moonlight. Within the hour I reached their camp. 14 of them there were, celebrating their victory. They all held knives and daggers, except for one, who held a sword. That was when I knew he was the one who killed my family. Anger told me to rush out and stab him, though I knew that was suicide. So I waited and waited. Soon the Orcs fell asleep, that was when I made my move. I walked to his tent, dagger ready, and was about to step in when something touched my shoulder. I quickly turn around to kill my attacker, but stop half swing when I noticed it was Renagr. He held out his dagger and nodded. Then we both stepped into the Orcs tent. We were about to strike when suddenly, he shot up a knife and threw it into Renagr in the chest. I checked his pulse. He was dead. I raced to the Orc, flailing my dagger. He dodged and down-swiped with his knife, which sliced me across my left eye. I quickly countered. And stabbed him in his heart. He screamed. And I quickly ran into the woods, feeling sorrow and happiness. I traveled south for many days. And soon came to a place called Altera. I now reside here. Making friends, trusting others, in hope that someway the void in my heart will be filled. I now reside in Cutthroat Cove as a pirate.
