Post by leodiensian on Mar 26, 2012 11:25:30 GMT
----Character Biography----[/u][/i]
Name:
Arth Ronso
Race
Ronso (Native)
Age:
24
Gender:
Male
Profession:
Guardian/Hunter
Level 1
HP:
150
MP:
50
Gil Amount:
100
Class
Knight
Species Skill
Natural Adaptation: Gains a 1 xp per 5 word bonus for roleplay (but not battling) on the Yevon Continent
Organisation:
Arth is ostensibly in the employ of the Yevonite Church as Guardian to a Summoner.
Alignment
Neutral Good
Home Continent:
Yevon Continent
Personality:
Though Arth was raised in a very strict religious environment, he has become worldly enough on his travels to know that doctrine and dogma rarely solves real-world problems. Even so, his faith is central component to his character, but it causes some tension other aspects of his nature. He is not prone to evangelism or wearing his faith on his sleeve, but can be observed committing small, silent acts of charity or uttering a quiet, personal prayer.
Most non-Ronso observers would find it difficult to differentiate Arth very clearly from most of his species, save his unusually apt grasp of the human language. He is stoically quiet, generally preferring non-verbal communication such as gesturing; when he does talk, it is usually in short, direct utterances. His movements tend to be similar - he is usually very still, save for his miss-nothing eyes, but when he does act it is in a direct and effective manner. This is occasionally interpreted as being curt or socially inept, which is probably fair; social graces are not something the Ronso particularly value or culture.
Arth has spent enough time among non-Ronso to know that others find his kind intimidating due to their sheer size and feral, leonine appearance. He knows he can't do much about that, but still prefers to try and prevent that intimidation - up until the point he needs someone intimidated; then he knows that big, fierce teeth are an asset. Recent events have inspired him to become more aggressive and violent towards others if the need arises; in his quest to locate and reunite with his missing Summoner, a new fury has been kindled in the heart of this noble giant.
Appearance:
[See above]
Arth, like most males of his species, stands massively above even the tallest human, being well over eight feel tall. He is broad-shouldered and has a powerful, muscular build under his thick blue and white fur. A white ivory horn ten inches in lenght protrudes from his brow, poking out from his shaggy white hair; while most males of his species spike their hair into a kind of stylised 'mane', Arth generally leaves his plain and worn down. A long blue tail flows out behind him, giving him excellent balance which many find startling considering his grand size and bulk.
As his species is adapted to cold, mountainous environments, he tends to wear simple and light clothing to keep cool at milder climates, which he finds uncomfortably warm. He tends to have some small religious icons and fetishes on his person, though never worn very obviously. For instance, on his right wrist he wears a charm bracelet he made himself out of different coloured rocks believed by his people to have some spiritual significane towards warding off evil spirits.
Equipment:
Gagazet Spear
A simple and fairly standard weapon used by Ronso hunters and warriors, the Gagazet spear more accurately resembles what humans might call a pike in terms of sheer length, due to the size of the creatures that use them. Each male Ronso carves their spear as part of a manhood ritual, meaning each is quite personal, although it does also mean that their quality as weapons can vary wildly; hard wood and quality metal are relatively hard to come by on Mount Gagazet, meaning each spear represents a significant personal investement of both time and effort. Arth's is relatively plain and unadorned, but practically designed; a secondary blade below the main head allows the spear to double as a slashing halberd-like weapon, while an iron cap on the bottom of the shaft can be used to bludgeon.
[+10 Damage]
Travel Pack
A simple, unobstruvie satchel containing supplies necessary for someone spending a long time on the road - a bedroll, flint and tinder, a map and compass, dried rations etc. [In game; no mechanical benefit]
Arth's Bracelet
A small personal affectation, worn on his right wrist. This armband is composed of roughly a dozen smooth rocks and pebbles of different colours and roughly similar size and shape, tied together on a simple length of black cord. This was made by Arth himself, out of stones that had some superstition or symbolism to his people; when he learned he was to be taken from Gagazet to Bevelle, he made this bracelet to remind him of home. [Personal affectation; no mechanical benefit - yet?]
Combat Abilities:
Level 1 Slots:
Swift Or Dead
One does not reach adulthood on Gagazet without either luck or skill. Home to some of Spira's most vicious fiends, Ronso hunters know that the distance between life and death is less than a hair's breadth. Armour is all but useless; only your reflexes and your wits can save you.
[Arth has one Evade per combat]
Fiend Hunter
Having trained to fight both on Fiend-ridden Gagazet and with the Yevonite warrior monks, Arth has learned to do battle with the strange and unnatural creatures that form after an unquiet death.
[Passive; Arth does 30 more damage to Fiends, Unsent or other Undead-type enemies]
Level 2 Slots:
-
Level 3 Slots:
-
Magic
Level 1 Slots
-Cure
Level 2 Slots
-
Level 3 slots
-
Summons:
-
Experience
-
History:
Mount Gagazet is home to the Ronso, a deeply devout species of lion-men with strong and long-lasting ties to the Yevonite faith; they believe the mountain to be sacred and virtually the only contact the Ronso tribes have with the rest of Spira come from Yevonite Summoners or missionaries. Arth Ronso was born and almost immediately thrust into the arms of the Church. The closest thing he recieved to formal 'schooling' was recieved at the foot of a Yevonite priest staying with his tribe, indoctrinating him from a young age. When not learning his letters and prayers, Arth learned to be a hunter and warrior for his tribe, training every day. His life was quite typical for a Ronso, learning the art of the hunt and crafting his own personal spear to defend himself and bring food back for the tribe. Most of the other youths in his tribes were becoming entranced by the sport of Blitzball - despite the poor mountain tribes lacking the resources, environment or facilities to really even practice. Arth dabbled in Blitzball, but found it frankly ridiculous.
Showing promise is both aspects of his study, Arth was entered into a tournament with other young Ronso to fight for the right to be trained as the personal bodyguard for one of the Church's Maesters. Though he was defeated by another, older Ronso, Arth's performance did bring him to the attention of a Yevonite warrior monk who was observing; when another competitor was going in for a killing blow against a wounded opponent, Arth intervened, took the spear to the shoulder without flinching and promptly broke the assailant's arm in three places. Those protective instincts in one so young - to say nothing of his natural propensity for combat - made him seem a promising Guardian. Thus it was decided that when his wound healed, Arth would be taken from Gagazet to Bevelle, to be trained among the warrior monks and then assigned a summoner to protect.
In some ways, it was comforting for him to know that his life was planned out ahead of him, unfolding according to some plan and path, although being taken from his home and the fact that it wasn't HIS plan did leave a bad taste in his mouth. And for the next few years his life did go more or less according to plan; he was quartered in Bevelle and recieved training under the warrior monks of Yevon to more expertly combat the monsters that plagued the land. And he was indeed assigned to a summoner, a young naive Guado. The two travelled from temple to temple, growing close as they did, though few words were exchanged. Arth developed silent affection for his summoner, which he was unable to fully express until the summoner was wounded in battle. Arth took the injured mage in his arms and spent the next few days in gentle care.
While the summoner recuperated, the two became more open about their mutual feelings for each other and the problems they represented; the end goal of a summoner's pilgrimate was death, for better or worse. A summoner had to let go all worldly connections if they were going to be able to bring about the Peace. Though they seemed to agree to put the Pilgrimage on pause for the time being, one morning Arth awoke to find his summoner gone. There was no note and no sign of a struggle, but the summoner had also left all their things behind at camp; it was as if they had just gotten up in the middle of the night and walked away. Naturally, this was not a reaction Arth was very happy with.
Now Arth is on the trail of his missing Summoner, travelling across Spira for any sign. He does not know if his Summoner has continued on the Pilgrimage without him, to prevent their relationship developing further and the heartbreak that must occur at the end of the road, or whether some third party took the Guado away - or worse. Arth is seeking a purpose - a Guardian without a Summoner is no Guardian at all.
RP sample:
The Al Bhed hit the cliff face with a wet, heavy thud and slid painfully down to the gravelly ground. Here on the coastal road to Djose Temple, where the waves lashed restlessly against the curving shore, stripping away all weakness and leaving only bedrock, there were a lot of hard surfaces to collide with. And his assailant showed no signs of tiring.
Arth had come across a gaggle of those machine-users waylaying travellers on the road, using their strange contraptions to wound or abuse the innocent. Had he not been following a trail directly through one of their ambush points, he wouldn't be making the effort to leave one of them alive. Terrified, but alive. The short blond human in the gas mask began to get to his feet, only to find a spear suddenly embed itself in the rock three inches from his head.
Arth was not in the mood for polite conversations. He was not in the mood for redirected inquiries and 'you'll have to ask someone else'. He crossed the distance between him and the Al Bhed quickly, pressing a knee against the man's sternum and pressing him hard against the cliff wall. Arth's mouth peeled back to reveal knife-teeth, dripping with intent. "Where?"
The Al Bhed stammered something in that jumbled monkey-language, before reaching for something in his overall. Arth snatched the man's hand, pulled it out and seized the machine pistol before the trigger could be squeezed. A flick of the wrist sent the unholy device to the ocean, then the Ronso's immense hand enclosed around the smaller man's neck, grasping tightly with black claws. "Where is the Guado?"
"I - I don't know!" Suddenly the Al Bhed could speak Spiran, albeit stammeringly.
"You smell like lies" Arth snarled, hoisting the man up off the ground with one clean motion. "The Guado came through here. You must have seen the Guado. Where did the Guado go?"
"I - we see many Guado! Guado many pilgrims! Please, do not hurt I!" Arth snarled, his yellow eyes fixed tightly on the struggling Al Bhed, his pupils stilleto-thin. The Summoner was not here, but had come this way. Arth knew he had to head back to Bevelle and report his failure to the Maesters, but could not tolerate the thought of leaving his Summoner to wander Spira's dangerous roads alone, unguarded. Neither option was acceptable, their very conceptions lighting furious powers within the normally-quiet throat of the Guardian. What was usually a comforting rumble of speech became the voice of a shouting mountain, an avalanche made of lions all roaring together.
It's not surprising that the Al Bhed should lose control of himself in the face of such a sight. Arth, now convinced the bandit was telling the truth, turned his fury to disgust at the sight and smell of the coward. He pulled the arm carrying the man back, turned to face the ocean. "Clean yourself." And then he threw the man into the sea. Arth did not spare the man a second glance he was not worthy of before pulling his spear from the cliff face and resuming his walk along Djose road. He strode with direction and purpose, and he would tear down anything that came between him and his goal...
Name:
Arth Ronso
Race
Ronso (Native)
Age:
24
Gender:
Male
Profession:
Guardian/Hunter
Level 1
HP:
150
MP:
50
Gil Amount:
100
Class
Knight
Species Skill
Natural Adaptation: Gains a 1 xp per 5 word bonus for roleplay (but not battling) on the Yevon Continent
Organisation:
Arth is ostensibly in the employ of the Yevonite Church as Guardian to a Summoner.
Alignment
Neutral Good
Home Continent:
Yevon Continent
Personality:
Though Arth was raised in a very strict religious environment, he has become worldly enough on his travels to know that doctrine and dogma rarely solves real-world problems. Even so, his faith is central component to his character, but it causes some tension other aspects of his nature. He is not prone to evangelism or wearing his faith on his sleeve, but can be observed committing small, silent acts of charity or uttering a quiet, personal prayer.
Most non-Ronso observers would find it difficult to differentiate Arth very clearly from most of his species, save his unusually apt grasp of the human language. He is stoically quiet, generally preferring non-verbal communication such as gesturing; when he does talk, it is usually in short, direct utterances. His movements tend to be similar - he is usually very still, save for his miss-nothing eyes, but when he does act it is in a direct and effective manner. This is occasionally interpreted as being curt or socially inept, which is probably fair; social graces are not something the Ronso particularly value or culture.
Arth has spent enough time among non-Ronso to know that others find his kind intimidating due to their sheer size and feral, leonine appearance. He knows he can't do much about that, but still prefers to try and prevent that intimidation - up until the point he needs someone intimidated; then he knows that big, fierce teeth are an asset. Recent events have inspired him to become more aggressive and violent towards others if the need arises; in his quest to locate and reunite with his missing Summoner, a new fury has been kindled in the heart of this noble giant.
Appearance:
[See above]
Arth, like most males of his species, stands massively above even the tallest human, being well over eight feel tall. He is broad-shouldered and has a powerful, muscular build under his thick blue and white fur. A white ivory horn ten inches in lenght protrudes from his brow, poking out from his shaggy white hair; while most males of his species spike their hair into a kind of stylised 'mane', Arth generally leaves his plain and worn down. A long blue tail flows out behind him, giving him excellent balance which many find startling considering his grand size and bulk.
As his species is adapted to cold, mountainous environments, he tends to wear simple and light clothing to keep cool at milder climates, which he finds uncomfortably warm. He tends to have some small religious icons and fetishes on his person, though never worn very obviously. For instance, on his right wrist he wears a charm bracelet he made himself out of different coloured rocks believed by his people to have some spiritual significane towards warding off evil spirits.
Equipment:
Gagazet Spear
A simple and fairly standard weapon used by Ronso hunters and warriors, the Gagazet spear more accurately resembles what humans might call a pike in terms of sheer length, due to the size of the creatures that use them. Each male Ronso carves their spear as part of a manhood ritual, meaning each is quite personal, although it does also mean that their quality as weapons can vary wildly; hard wood and quality metal are relatively hard to come by on Mount Gagazet, meaning each spear represents a significant personal investement of both time and effort. Arth's is relatively plain and unadorned, but practically designed; a secondary blade below the main head allows the spear to double as a slashing halberd-like weapon, while an iron cap on the bottom of the shaft can be used to bludgeon.
[+10 Damage]
Travel Pack
A simple, unobstruvie satchel containing supplies necessary for someone spending a long time on the road - a bedroll, flint and tinder, a map and compass, dried rations etc. [In game; no mechanical benefit]
Arth's Bracelet
A small personal affectation, worn on his right wrist. This armband is composed of roughly a dozen smooth rocks and pebbles of different colours and roughly similar size and shape, tied together on a simple length of black cord. This was made by Arth himself, out of stones that had some superstition or symbolism to his people; when he learned he was to be taken from Gagazet to Bevelle, he made this bracelet to remind him of home. [Personal affectation; no mechanical benefit - yet?]
Combat Abilities:
Level 1 Slots:
Swift Or Dead
One does not reach adulthood on Gagazet without either luck or skill. Home to some of Spira's most vicious fiends, Ronso hunters know that the distance between life and death is less than a hair's breadth. Armour is all but useless; only your reflexes and your wits can save you.
[Arth has one Evade per combat]
Fiend Hunter
Having trained to fight both on Fiend-ridden Gagazet and with the Yevonite warrior monks, Arth has learned to do battle with the strange and unnatural creatures that form after an unquiet death.
[Passive; Arth does 30 more damage to Fiends, Unsent or other Undead-type enemies]
Level 2 Slots:
-
Level 3 Slots:
-
Magic
Level 1 Slots
-Cure
Level 2 Slots
-
Level 3 slots
-
Summons:
-
Experience
-
History:
Mount Gagazet is home to the Ronso, a deeply devout species of lion-men with strong and long-lasting ties to the Yevonite faith; they believe the mountain to be sacred and virtually the only contact the Ronso tribes have with the rest of Spira come from Yevonite Summoners or missionaries. Arth Ronso was born and almost immediately thrust into the arms of the Church. The closest thing he recieved to formal 'schooling' was recieved at the foot of a Yevonite priest staying with his tribe, indoctrinating him from a young age. When not learning his letters and prayers, Arth learned to be a hunter and warrior for his tribe, training every day. His life was quite typical for a Ronso, learning the art of the hunt and crafting his own personal spear to defend himself and bring food back for the tribe. Most of the other youths in his tribes were becoming entranced by the sport of Blitzball - despite the poor mountain tribes lacking the resources, environment or facilities to really even practice. Arth dabbled in Blitzball, but found it frankly ridiculous.
Showing promise is both aspects of his study, Arth was entered into a tournament with other young Ronso to fight for the right to be trained as the personal bodyguard for one of the Church's Maesters. Though he was defeated by another, older Ronso, Arth's performance did bring him to the attention of a Yevonite warrior monk who was observing; when another competitor was going in for a killing blow against a wounded opponent, Arth intervened, took the spear to the shoulder without flinching and promptly broke the assailant's arm in three places. Those protective instincts in one so young - to say nothing of his natural propensity for combat - made him seem a promising Guardian. Thus it was decided that when his wound healed, Arth would be taken from Gagazet to Bevelle, to be trained among the warrior monks and then assigned a summoner to protect.
In some ways, it was comforting for him to know that his life was planned out ahead of him, unfolding according to some plan and path, although being taken from his home and the fact that it wasn't HIS plan did leave a bad taste in his mouth. And for the next few years his life did go more or less according to plan; he was quartered in Bevelle and recieved training under the warrior monks of Yevon to more expertly combat the monsters that plagued the land. And he was indeed assigned to a summoner, a young naive Guado. The two travelled from temple to temple, growing close as they did, though few words were exchanged. Arth developed silent affection for his summoner, which he was unable to fully express until the summoner was wounded in battle. Arth took the injured mage in his arms and spent the next few days in gentle care.
While the summoner recuperated, the two became more open about their mutual feelings for each other and the problems they represented; the end goal of a summoner's pilgrimate was death, for better or worse. A summoner had to let go all worldly connections if they were going to be able to bring about the Peace. Though they seemed to agree to put the Pilgrimage on pause for the time being, one morning Arth awoke to find his summoner gone. There was no note and no sign of a struggle, but the summoner had also left all their things behind at camp; it was as if they had just gotten up in the middle of the night and walked away. Naturally, this was not a reaction Arth was very happy with.
Now Arth is on the trail of his missing Summoner, travelling across Spira for any sign. He does not know if his Summoner has continued on the Pilgrimage without him, to prevent their relationship developing further and the heartbreak that must occur at the end of the road, or whether some third party took the Guado away - or worse. Arth is seeking a purpose - a Guardian without a Summoner is no Guardian at all.
RP sample:
The Al Bhed hit the cliff face with a wet, heavy thud and slid painfully down to the gravelly ground. Here on the coastal road to Djose Temple, where the waves lashed restlessly against the curving shore, stripping away all weakness and leaving only bedrock, there were a lot of hard surfaces to collide with. And his assailant showed no signs of tiring.
Arth had come across a gaggle of those machine-users waylaying travellers on the road, using their strange contraptions to wound or abuse the innocent. Had he not been following a trail directly through one of their ambush points, he wouldn't be making the effort to leave one of them alive. Terrified, but alive. The short blond human in the gas mask began to get to his feet, only to find a spear suddenly embed itself in the rock three inches from his head.
Arth was not in the mood for polite conversations. He was not in the mood for redirected inquiries and 'you'll have to ask someone else'. He crossed the distance between him and the Al Bhed quickly, pressing a knee against the man's sternum and pressing him hard against the cliff wall. Arth's mouth peeled back to reveal knife-teeth, dripping with intent. "Where?"
The Al Bhed stammered something in that jumbled monkey-language, before reaching for something in his overall. Arth snatched the man's hand, pulled it out and seized the machine pistol before the trigger could be squeezed. A flick of the wrist sent the unholy device to the ocean, then the Ronso's immense hand enclosed around the smaller man's neck, grasping tightly with black claws. "Where is the Guado?"
"I - I don't know!" Suddenly the Al Bhed could speak Spiran, albeit stammeringly.
"You smell like lies" Arth snarled, hoisting the man up off the ground with one clean motion. "The Guado came through here. You must have seen the Guado. Where did the Guado go?"
"I - we see many Guado! Guado many pilgrims! Please, do not hurt I!" Arth snarled, his yellow eyes fixed tightly on the struggling Al Bhed, his pupils stilleto-thin. The Summoner was not here, but had come this way. Arth knew he had to head back to Bevelle and report his failure to the Maesters, but could not tolerate the thought of leaving his Summoner to wander Spira's dangerous roads alone, unguarded. Neither option was acceptable, their very conceptions lighting furious powers within the normally-quiet throat of the Guardian. What was usually a comforting rumble of speech became the voice of a shouting mountain, an avalanche made of lions all roaring together.
It's not surprising that the Al Bhed should lose control of himself in the face of such a sight. Arth, now convinced the bandit was telling the truth, turned his fury to disgust at the sight and smell of the coward. He pulled the arm carrying the man back, turned to face the ocean. "Clean yourself." And then he threw the man into the sea. Arth did not spare the man a second glance he was not worthy of before pulling his spear from the cliff face and resuming his walk along Djose road. He strode with direction and purpose, and he would tear down anything that came between him and his goal...