1nstantkill
Settling in Altera
*****Work in Progress*****
Name: Oenaeis (Oh-Nay-Es) I was named by my father, a wine-maker by trade. From what I have gathered before his passing, a scholar once came by our village and made up a fancy word “oenologist,” to describe his profession. I suppose my father named me with it in mind.Nickname/Alias: I used to be “The Rogue” before I met others with similar aliases. It was too confusing when we were all together, so I also answer to kuroneko, which I was told means black cat in some distant land. Am I a bad omen?
Age: 21
Gender: Male
Height: 6'1"
Weight: 85 kg
Hair: Short sun-bleached brown in the summer, darker brown and grown out during the winter months.
Eyes: Described by those privileged to look into them close enough as “grasslands on fire.” A green patch topped with flares of hazel under a blue sky.
Skin: Often pale from traveling while wearing rogue attire.
Identifying Marks: A scar cutting through the hairline of my right eyebrow. A birthmark in the shape of a keyhole on the inner side of my right elbow.
Appearance: My clothes are that of a rogue with brown and green-colored dressings. Normally slightly hunched from years of backbreaking work, yet tall and well-postured in the presence of a lady or distinguished figure. Broad-shouldered with a stiff neck, I habitually tend to look toward the ground in front of me, but also am known to look around frequently without warning.
Strengths:
Foresight- I am no prophet, but when it comes to making a profit, I have great intuition.
Creative and Spontaneous- Spontaneity mixed with creativity leads to unpredictable tactics which tends to pose a challenge to an opponent’s ability to think on their feet.
Willpower- I am able to excel at any physically grueling task so long as my will to overcome prevails. It is often that my determination makes quick work of an otherwise difficult task.
Hide in Plain Sight- I often do not draw too much attention to myself and can often pose as something I am not through my mannerisms or impressions.
Weaknesses and fears:
Low Flexibility / Weak Stealth potential- Despite my background as a rogue, I am less adept at sneaking up on foes than expected due to my inability to maneuver into hard-to-see places.
Aggressive Defense- I tend to take unnecessary hits when I do not need to simply because I try to endure through willpower or dodge by luck. One day it’s going to get me killed.
Quick to fall in love or pursue treasure- Opportunity is something I never knew as a child and I often seize it at first chance, sometimes forgetting to think first.
Fire- I burn like anyone else, but am especially prone to missteps when the heat of a burning flame reaches my eyes.
Background:
Sometimes I dream of my childhood. I dream of where it all went wrong, of why I can only remember the bad times instead of the good. I don't see myself in my dream, only my mother's crying as she fades into the distance. She wasn't really my mother, I have no mother. That was the story I kept, especially when it came to paying tribute to the bandits holding our town captive. Twenty radiants per week per family member. It doesn't sound like much, but to our little town on the outskirts of the Southern Wilds, finding a stone block to mine is like hitting the lottery. It's no surprise that I kept to the story of my family being dead. I was, after all, 14 at the time, old enough to support myself when it came to digging, and especially strong for my age. Nobody would be the wiser, so long as I kept my family hidden. There wasn't anywhere to go, as far as I knew it was desert on one side and ocean on the other, well that and my village, a dirty row of brittle sticks tied together by spider string sitting in the shadow of a colossal mound of dirt.
So there I was, out before sunrise climbing up the mountain of dirt, looking down at the huge crater dug up by hundreds of generations. The hole was so deep below sea level, water had begun to leech in and fill the bottom, burying any hopes of finding more stone. At least to everyone else... this was my treasure trove. I had never found any diamonds. That's what everyone is looking for right? Diamonds? I wouldn't know one if I had seen one anyway, though I hear they are pretty. No, my treasure trove was an abandoned mine of endless loot. I had become pretty adept at avoiding the traps, so each time I would come out with a few iron bars and plenty of cobblestone. I'd never sell the iron bars, I always made weapons with them to allow myself to keep fighting the monsters beneath the surface. I would always spread out selling my stone though and only visit the mine once every fortnight. To my friends, I was the rogue. They always thought I stole everything. I couldn't show them my secret stash though, I had a sick mother to care for unbeknownst to them, and I was never sure when it would run out.
And one day it did; today in fact... At first I panicked, but then I decided to live up to my name and steal. It was easy for the first few, a loaf of bread here, a raw piece of beef from the market. Then I started being ambitious and stole from the bandits. I started running as fast I could when I got caught. I idiotically started heading for home at first, but then change course and fled to the desert. I was much faster than any of the bandits, but somehow I think they stopped chasing me after a while. I waited until nightfall to return, I was sure they hadn't seen my face. I was after all wearing my rogue attire I had found off of a body in the abandoned mine. When I returned home though, my mother was standing there in shackles and guards quickly put me in the same. My so-call "friends" had ratted me out for a week's payment. It was decided that I be killed by exile, and my mother forced to the mines in my place. Tied to a raft in the ocean was the last time I saw her. I don't remember much else past that, except for her standing on the shoreline, tears dripping down her face as I was swept away by the current. Somehow everything past that is blank. Did I die? Why can I still remember this? No matter the reason I do not fear dying. I will return. I must make my own good memories...
Personal Memoirs
-Oenaeis
Religion and cults:
Oenaeis is partial to the teachings of Jax.
Race:
Human
Profession:
Wine-maker and opportune middleman.
