RaeshiSeeks
I think I might like it here
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Hiedric Branáin-
Name: Hiedric Branáin
Full Titles: N/A
Nickname/Alias: Ginger Himbo, Mom Friend
KEY INFORMATION:
Age: 23
Gender: He/Him
Race: Human (Daoine/Kaltic)
Social Status: Minor Noble
Sexuality: Gay
Height: 6'3
Weight: 180
Date of Birth: 21st of Winterfeast
Date of Death:
Homeland: Kaltstaat, Queensport
Current Home: Lingering in Storms Landing
PHYSIOLOGY:
Build: Having grown into himself now, he has a tall and relatively broad physique that tapers to a notable 'v' towards his hips. Not a bear of a man like most Kalts.
Hair: Falling to his shoulders in a wild, curly mess of dark auburn locks, he tends to keep it partially braided and tied back with various beads for decoration.
Eyes: The color of green sea glass.
Skin: Pale af and kissed with numerous freckles all over, especially over the bridge of his nose and along his arms.
Identifying Marks: Odd scars on his calves reminiscent of bite marks, mostly faded.
Appearance: Strong cheekbones with a straight nose, expressive brows. His cheeks dimple when he smiles, and his jawline is sharp from a mixture of genetics, growth spurts and hunger.
Clothing: With his new title came a new wardrobe foisted onto him by his kin-Silks and fine linens, sturdier and thicker leathers, all tasteful and simple in design with practicality and comfort prioritized over appearances.
Weaponry: Remnant an ornate glimmersteel rapier, Crystal a curved glimmersteel dagger.
Prized Possessions: His knitting needles, hair ornaments, Remnant.
Hygiene: Well kept, bathing or at least scrubbing down with a rag and bucket daily.
Voice: Bright, cheerful, likely to be misheard thanks to his thick Rede/Focail accent.
QUALITIES AND FLAWS:
Strengths: Adaptable in social situations, a keen eye for reading body language and picking apart word choice to find hidden meaning.
Fears: Being left alone, earthquakes
Weaknesses: A bit too willing to give people chances even if he can sense ill intent. Horrendous lack of sense of direction.
Intelligence: Knows his numbers and words and can read instructional manuals without issue. Has had no access to higher education, but he's picked up societal ques by sitting in on Assemblies in Queensport often.
Languages: Common, Rede (fluent), Focail (moderate)
Profession: Primarily a Weaver and Woodcarver, he follows in his parent's footsteps.
ETHICS AND MOTIVATIONS:
Personality: Easygoing, friendly, perpetually cheerful. Prone to philosophical debates even in his one mind. Protective of his loved ones, though never one to stifle them if it can be avoided.
Religion or Cults: Pays homage to the Allmother, The Huntress and the Grey Lady
Alignment: Neutral Good, trending towards Chaotic Good.
Short Term Goals: Explore more of the continent, find new wood types, make new friends, learn new skills.
Long Term Goals: Master Tailoring, Woodcarving and bring wealth back to his home to build a better life for his family.
TRIVIA:
Favourite...
Place: Queensport Assemblies
Pastime: Knitting
Food: Honey glazed or flavored anything.
Drink: Honey meads!
Colour: Purple
Animal: No favorite, most fur babs will be spoiled rotten by him if given the chance.
Least Favourite...
Place: Crypts or Graveyards
Pastime: Scrubbing stains out of cloths
Food: Whale meat anything
Drink: Wine...
Colour: Puce.
Animal: Anything past six legs is a no go-
RELATIONS:
Loved:
Eyvind, "A man dedicated teh livin' life tae'st fullest, an' one t'at...I wouldnae mind teachin' me certain tings~"
Pohk'urz, "...Dinnae know I had a weakness teh buff as hell, family oriented men b'fore, but now I do!"
Leofwine, "Fffff-Why'd I havetae go an' fall fer a straight, tae be married man?! What te'hell is wrong wit' me?!?"
Trusted:
Leofwine, "Steadfast'n'true, he is. Loyal an' self sacrificin' tae a fault, I trust'm wit' me life, me valuables, jus' no' wit his own damned health. Love'm t'ough."
Xiqu, "A shield sister fer tae battlefield of blades an' tae heart both."
Faith Meadows, "She's alway's lookin' teh help o'ers. Jus' hope she lets us all help her in turn 'swell."
Befriended:
Faith Meadows, "Cannae believe I let the lass talk me inta' half teh ting's she does!"
Iuno Matuta, "Strong an' true, tha's our Iuno. A stalwart frie-Stop kickin' Arne!"
Raenyr, "A Child'o'Winter fer sure, riddled wit' her frozen breath but kind at teh core. Needs teh eat more t'ough!!"
Xiqu, "Wild child wit' tae heart'o'a mot'er. Liable teh head butt yer lights out or feed yae, tuttin' about how skinny ye are. We've loads in common!~"
Liked:
Frost, "...I'll admit it, I jus' really wantae touch her cool robes-"
Arne, "He's ah greasy fella, ain't he? Friendly'nuff though."
Quill, "Seems a gentle sort, her plant t'ing is great for transportation!"
Seeker, "Reminds me of m'Pa. Made sure teh keep me an' anot'er youngin' close by durin' battle. Also, free food and booze!"
Neutral:
Lerina, "Oh lass, yeh'd be eaten alive by the Queensport nobles. Bless yah, stay safe out 'der."
Leonhardt, "Saw teh man lay Arne flat on his arse-On accident! Seems teh noble type, I'll hafta learn more abou' him."
Som, "She's a lass wit' a spine'o steel fer sure. Sometin' good fer a leader, but no' sure how friendly we could be."
Unsure of: Lark, "A lil' shite, one wit' humor. Was yellin' about heretics t'ough, so, not so sure."
Wary of: Ignis: "...I just wantae talk, that's all-Why is e'eryone lookin' at me funny?"
Afraid of:
Disliked: Matthias, "Kneecap privileges 'ave been revoked. Why? REASONS-"
Hated: Branko, "Someone should really stick tae fooker innae ground more permanent like."
BACKSTORY:
The winters in Queensport were long and frigid, dark days and darker nights broken up by the ever kept hearth flames by it's residents and the ever protective flare of watchtowers. Hiedric was born in the heart of winter, the Winterfeasts longest stretch of darkness ending just as the newest Branáin was welcomed into the world by his Granny who, being a midwife with six children and now thirteen grandchildren of her own was an old hand at the craft!
The whole family was gathered in the to small winter home till the first breath of spring blessed the land once more and they scattered like seeds from a wishing flower in the wind. Somber as these cold month could turn the Kalts, not a single Branáin was without cheer that bubbled up with merry congratulations to Hiedric's very wide eyed father and his tired and *very* smug mother.
Borne into the dark months amidst good cheer and warmth, an omen for how Hiedric himself would find the world later in life.
Wood, Wool and Winter were the three things that stood out the strongest in his life. The sound of the carving knives and sanding grit being put to good work by his otherwise quiet father, the gentle hum and chatter of his mother in her weaving circles as words and wool both were passed between those present. And winter, when the Branáin clan would return home like birds turning south when the first kiss of frost pressed against the prairies, bringing a sense of chaos only family could while they all nestled themselves poorly in the still to small abode. Not that Hiedric minded truly, he loved the warmth his family brought with them! His cousins with tales of the woods and fields and the adventures to be had there, the taste of fresh herbs that couldn't be kept in the city in their breads and stews. The smell of the wild sea mingling with the rich scent of earth and growing things, all slowly fading under the sharp bite of frost.
Winter brought the rest of the world as he knew it to his doorstep and Hiedric reveled in that.
It wasn't quite...lonely, in those off months, when his family scattered with the warmer winds to work the earth or wrestle the sea for it's bounty. But it wasn't far off from that feeling at times either. Learning the basics of his parent's crafts filled his days with enough busy work that he rarely had the time to dwell on such things. Often though, he found himself taking smaller works he'd been set on to the Assemblies and soaking in the presence and sound of Important Persons whilst he whittled or embroidered. Talk of a world outside of even the one his family brought to his door could be heard there, Important Persons hemming and hawing over silly things or turning to steel and cinders whenever certain topics were brought up.
It was at those Assemblies that Hiedric had an interesting thought of his own. Hearing of strange, far off lands with their own histories, with rich culture-Derided or praised they may be by his kinsmen, what were the rich and bone deep bits of their own culture? Tapestries and statues aplenty were present in the halls of the Assemblies, telling tales related more to the Anhalder and the time after becoming tethered to them than anything solely their own.
It saddened him a touch. There seemed to only be scattered remnants of what the Kalts could have once offered to show off to the world as a badge of who they were in the past. A clear, bloody line in history where they were remade in another's image.
But there wasn't much to be done to reclaim the past, nor were the present times overly unpleasant due to their conquerors. Not to Hiedric at least. He had more to fear the howling oceans and long, unforgiving winters than he did the distant Anhalder or what bits of their culture his kinsmen had cleaved to.
Hells, he had to fear not being able to grow a beard more than he did the Anhalder!
So he kept his peace, dreaming little flights of fancy of what the past could have been like and making them just a touch real with Wool and Wood, waiting for Winter to bring his family and the World to his doorstep again.
INSPIRATIONS: Songs that resonate with Hiedric's vibes for me.
My in-game name is: Salodree
Name: Hiedric Branáin
Full Titles: N/A
Nickname/Alias: Ginger Himbo, Mom Friend
KEY INFORMATION:
Age: 23
Gender: He/Him
Race: Human (Daoine/Kaltic)
Social Status: Minor Noble
Sexuality: Gay
Height: 6'3
Weight: 180
Date of Birth: 21st of Winterfeast
Date of Death:
Homeland: Kaltstaat, Queensport
Current Home: Lingering in Storms Landing
PHYSIOLOGY:
Build: Having grown into himself now, he has a tall and relatively broad physique that tapers to a notable 'v' towards his hips. Not a bear of a man like most Kalts.
Hair: Falling to his shoulders in a wild, curly mess of dark auburn locks, he tends to keep it partially braided and tied back with various beads for decoration.
Eyes: The color of green sea glass.
Skin: Pale af and kissed with numerous freckles all over, especially over the bridge of his nose and along his arms.
Identifying Marks: Odd scars on his calves reminiscent of bite marks, mostly faded.
Appearance: Strong cheekbones with a straight nose, expressive brows. His cheeks dimple when he smiles, and his jawline is sharp from a mixture of genetics, growth spurts and hunger.
Clothing: With his new title came a new wardrobe foisted onto him by his kin-Silks and fine linens, sturdier and thicker leathers, all tasteful and simple in design with practicality and comfort prioritized over appearances.
Weaponry: Remnant an ornate glimmersteel rapier, Crystal a curved glimmersteel dagger.
Prized Possessions: His knitting needles, hair ornaments, Remnant.
Hygiene: Well kept, bathing or at least scrubbing down with a rag and bucket daily.
Voice: Bright, cheerful, likely to be misheard thanks to his thick Rede/Focail accent.
QUALITIES AND FLAWS:
Strengths: Adaptable in social situations, a keen eye for reading body language and picking apart word choice to find hidden meaning.
Fears: Being left alone, earthquakes
Weaknesses: A bit too willing to give people chances even if he can sense ill intent. Horrendous lack of sense of direction.
Intelligence: Knows his numbers and words and can read instructional manuals without issue. Has had no access to higher education, but he's picked up societal ques by sitting in on Assemblies in Queensport often.
Languages: Common, Rede (fluent), Focail (moderate)
Profession: Primarily a Weaver and Woodcarver, he follows in his parent's footsteps.
ETHICS AND MOTIVATIONS:
Personality: Easygoing, friendly, perpetually cheerful. Prone to philosophical debates even in his one mind. Protective of his loved ones, though never one to stifle them if it can be avoided.
Religion or Cults: Pays homage to the Allmother, The Huntress and the Grey Lady
Alignment: Neutral Good, trending towards Chaotic Good.
Short Term Goals: Explore more of the continent, find new wood types, make new friends, learn new skills.
Long Term Goals: Master Tailoring, Woodcarving and bring wealth back to his home to build a better life for his family.
TRIVIA:
Favourite...
Place: Queensport Assemblies
Pastime: Knitting
Food: Honey glazed or flavored anything.
Drink: Honey meads!
Colour: Purple
Animal: No favorite, most fur babs will be spoiled rotten by him if given the chance.
Least Favourite...
Place: Crypts or Graveyards
Pastime: Scrubbing stains out of cloths
Food: Whale meat anything
Drink: Wine...
Colour: Puce.
Animal: Anything past six legs is a no go-
RELATIONS:
Loved:
Eyvind, "A man dedicated teh livin' life tae'st fullest, an' one t'at...I wouldnae mind teachin' me certain tings~"
Pohk'urz, "...Dinnae know I had a weakness teh buff as hell, family oriented men b'fore, but now I do!"
Leofwine, "Fffff-Why'd I havetae go an' fall fer a straight, tae be married man?! What te'hell is wrong wit' me?!?"
Trusted:
Leofwine, "Steadfast'n'true, he is. Loyal an' self sacrificin' tae a fault, I trust'm wit' me life, me valuables, jus' no' wit his own damned health. Love'm t'ough."
Xiqu, "A shield sister fer tae battlefield of blades an' tae heart both."
Faith Meadows, "She's alway's lookin' teh help o'ers. Jus' hope she lets us all help her in turn 'swell."
Befriended:
Faith Meadows, "Cannae believe I let the lass talk me inta' half teh ting's she does!"
Iuno Matuta, "Strong an' true, tha's our Iuno. A stalwart frie-Stop kickin' Arne!"
Raenyr, "A Child'o'Winter fer sure, riddled wit' her frozen breath but kind at teh core. Needs teh eat more t'ough!!"
Xiqu, "Wild child wit' tae heart'o'a mot'er. Liable teh head butt yer lights out or feed yae, tuttin' about how skinny ye are. We've loads in common!~"
Liked:
Frost, "...I'll admit it, I jus' really wantae touch her cool robes-"
Arne, "He's ah greasy fella, ain't he? Friendly'nuff though."
Quill, "Seems a gentle sort, her plant t'ing is great for transportation!"
Seeker, "Reminds me of m'Pa. Made sure teh keep me an' anot'er youngin' close by durin' battle. Also, free food and booze!"
Neutral:
Lerina, "Oh lass, yeh'd be eaten alive by the Queensport nobles. Bless yah, stay safe out 'der."
Leonhardt, "Saw teh man lay Arne flat on his arse-On accident! Seems teh noble type, I'll hafta learn more abou' him."
Som, "She's a lass wit' a spine'o steel fer sure. Sometin' good fer a leader, but no' sure how friendly we could be."
Unsure of: Lark, "A lil' shite, one wit' humor. Was yellin' about heretics t'ough, so, not so sure."
Wary of: Ignis: "...I just wantae talk, that's all-Why is e'eryone lookin' at me funny?"
Afraid of:
Disliked: Matthias, "Kneecap privileges 'ave been revoked. Why? REASONS-"
Hated: Branko, "Someone should really stick tae fooker innae ground more permanent like."
BACKSTORY:
The winters in Queensport were long and frigid, dark days and darker nights broken up by the ever kept hearth flames by it's residents and the ever protective flare of watchtowers. Hiedric was born in the heart of winter, the Winterfeasts longest stretch of darkness ending just as the newest Branáin was welcomed into the world by his Granny who, being a midwife with six children and now thirteen grandchildren of her own was an old hand at the craft!
The whole family was gathered in the to small winter home till the first breath of spring blessed the land once more and they scattered like seeds from a wishing flower in the wind. Somber as these cold month could turn the Kalts, not a single Branáin was without cheer that bubbled up with merry congratulations to Hiedric's very wide eyed father and his tired and *very* smug mother.
Borne into the dark months amidst good cheer and warmth, an omen for how Hiedric himself would find the world later in life.
Wood, Wool and Winter were the three things that stood out the strongest in his life. The sound of the carving knives and sanding grit being put to good work by his otherwise quiet father, the gentle hum and chatter of his mother in her weaving circles as words and wool both were passed between those present. And winter, when the Branáin clan would return home like birds turning south when the first kiss of frost pressed against the prairies, bringing a sense of chaos only family could while they all nestled themselves poorly in the still to small abode. Not that Hiedric minded truly, he loved the warmth his family brought with them! His cousins with tales of the woods and fields and the adventures to be had there, the taste of fresh herbs that couldn't be kept in the city in their breads and stews. The smell of the wild sea mingling with the rich scent of earth and growing things, all slowly fading under the sharp bite of frost.
Winter brought the rest of the world as he knew it to his doorstep and Hiedric reveled in that.
It wasn't quite...lonely, in those off months, when his family scattered with the warmer winds to work the earth or wrestle the sea for it's bounty. But it wasn't far off from that feeling at times either. Learning the basics of his parent's crafts filled his days with enough busy work that he rarely had the time to dwell on such things. Often though, he found himself taking smaller works he'd been set on to the Assemblies and soaking in the presence and sound of Important Persons whilst he whittled or embroidered. Talk of a world outside of even the one his family brought to his door could be heard there, Important Persons hemming and hawing over silly things or turning to steel and cinders whenever certain topics were brought up.
It was at those Assemblies that Hiedric had an interesting thought of his own. Hearing of strange, far off lands with their own histories, with rich culture-Derided or praised they may be by his kinsmen, what were the rich and bone deep bits of their own culture? Tapestries and statues aplenty were present in the halls of the Assemblies, telling tales related more to the Anhalder and the time after becoming tethered to them than anything solely their own.
It saddened him a touch. There seemed to only be scattered remnants of what the Kalts could have once offered to show off to the world as a badge of who they were in the past. A clear, bloody line in history where they were remade in another's image.
But there wasn't much to be done to reclaim the past, nor were the present times overly unpleasant due to their conquerors. Not to Hiedric at least. He had more to fear the howling oceans and long, unforgiving winters than he did the distant Anhalder or what bits of their culture his kinsmen had cleaved to.
Hells, he had to fear not being able to grow a beard more than he did the Anhalder!
So he kept his peace, dreaming little flights of fancy of what the past could have been like and making them just a touch real with Wool and Wood, waiting for Winter to bring his family and the World to his doorstep again.
INSPIRATIONS: Songs that resonate with Hiedric's vibes for me.
My in-game name is: Salodree
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