Vrór Brassmirth
Race: Dwarf
Age: 16
Height: 3’3
Weight: 100 lbs
Eye Color: green
Hair Color: dark blue
Element: wind
Physical Description: Vrór has Auburn skin from his lengthy time in the sun. Vrór wears his hair longer than a human, though shorter than his race. He lets it droop down over to half cover his right eye, though he keeps the hair back away from his left. His blue hair is unkempt and falls down his back below the shoulder blades. He wears his leather equipment over a tan shirt. Not yet fully grown, his voice hasn’t developed completely, and he sounds more like a grown man than the typical raspiness and gruffness found among the elder dwarves.
Personality – Curious, he has gotten himself in trouble by asking too many questions. Still, he has a moral compass accurately aligned and questions the motive behind what he does. Vrór typically bucks the trend, doing the opposite of what his superiors suggest. He has a ‘try things a different way’ philosophy, and in experiencing things his own way has grown close to nature.
Class – Bowman
Level –3721 … oh? 1 is the starting level. Alright, 1 it is…
Weapon - Metal Bow (Crossbow)
Head Armor - None
Hand Armor - Leather Gloves
Body Armor - Leather Breastplate
Leg Armor - Leather Boots
Gold - 3,000 (interesting, this is my current coin count on more than one RP site)
Items: none… or his box of ‘bolts’ (crossbow arrows)
Skill: charged Shot
Basic stats:
Accuracy @ 100 feet – 76%
Maximum firing range – 150 yards (crossbows add distance)
Top Speed – 5 MPH (in armor)
Endurance – 20 miles at full speed in light clothing
Starting location – Outer Rim (need new quest… and a partner to show me the ropes)
Background: Vrór Brassmirth’s parents died while he was still quite young, leaving him to the mercy of societies indoctrination rather than a decent education tempered by the skills of his parents. An orphan, he was an easy target for recruitment in the Dwarves’ military. Pulled early into the Dwarven academy, Vrór received training with the crossbow despite his hate of their rigorous methods. Taking his first opportunity, Vrór escaped into the wilds of the night, taking only his standard issue equipment. Moving mainly by night during the first month, Vrór drifted through the country, skirting the edges of both civilization and the plains as he experienced life in the forests outside the mountains firsthand.
His last year has brought him in contact with the elves, and standing as a rogue, he found that others would pay him for odd tasks. Not one to argue with the prospect of fresh food and a loaded weapon, Vrór has already earned himself a tidy sum of 3000 gold while adventuring to the ends of his island. Still one to question the generally accepted theories, Vrór wondered what lay beyond the ocean, just over the horizon… wondered if anything was there at all. Ever curious, longing to gain information firsthand, he knew that one day he would venture out. Each time he felt that the day he would do so grew closer, though at the end, he felt the tug pulling him back to the forests.
Everything looks good so far, except for the background. Check the length of those who have been successfully registered, and that'll be the length you need.^_^
Forgive my possible errors… I don’t know the world, and the net was kicking me off when I wrote this (same time as my registration)… I wrote up a ‘pseudo story’ anyway, trying to include as little falsified (assumed) information as possible…
Story-peek:
The wind picked up slightly, blowing at the tuft of hair hanging over his right eye. Taking into account the drift of the wind, the dwarf adjusted his aim slightly and pulled the trigger. A click sounded the release of the bolt, and a whistling accompanied the arrow as it flew through the air to his target. Wasting little time, Vrór’s trigger hand left the grip on the underside of the crossbow and quickly pulled back the shuttle, locking it into place before he pulled the waiting arrow from between his teeth and loaded it into its shaft.
“Asfelth,” Vrór called, “My mission is only to return the missing items. I will do that one way or another.” Vrór shifted the crossbow up and to the right, holding the device steady in his burly arms, lining the pair of crosshairs with the temple of the person’s head. “My last shot was a mercy shot, only putting a hole in the sack you carry. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll leave now and leave the stolen items behind.”
The man’s eyes darted, covering a general range in an attempt to discover where the arrow and voice had come from. The forest is thick enough, and has enough ambient noise that by the time he could pinpoint my location, I would have enough time to the settlement. My position isn’t helping him either… he’s looking too low. “Whatever you think you’re going to do, forget it. I have your head targeted in case you decide not to cooperate. My conscience will be clean if I am forced to down an escaping criminal… but as I said, my mission is only to return the items. Leave them here, and you’re free to go.”
With this said, Vrór reverted back to silence, remaining hidden from direct view by the leaves of the tree he rested in. His hands remained in their grip, holding the crossbow in ready position for a few moments longer. The man seemed to be taking his time, so Vrór pulled away his steadying hand slowly to make as little noise as possible. His right hand held the crossbow at the ready, though it did tend to wobble a little while his left hand reached into the leather pouch that been sewn onto his cloths at his left thigh. Carefully, he pulled out one of its special arrows and resealed its top. He brought his hand forward and deftly switched the arrow in the crossbow with the one in his hand. Returning the first bolt to its place between his teeth, Vrór returned his hand to its task of holding the weapon stable. All the while, the man continued growing in nervousness, though from the expression on his face showed that he wasn’t yet ready to give up.
Having grown tired of waiting, the dwarf lowered his aim and shifted his aim a little to the south, then pulled the trigger and let his special arrow fly. His target’s face lit up with surprise and pain for only a few moments before the sleeping mixture that had lined his otherwise blunt arrow took hold of him. Vrór pushed out with his legs, abandoning his lying posture from the four branches he had used as his firing stand. The Dwarf hung on to the tree, and swung his body down and around the branch, from which he dropped the ten feet to the ground.
Heavy steps marked his trail as he jugged through the underbrush to his target, though the generic tread of his shoes and the weight of the depressions could have easily been matched with any other number of men in the village not far away. Reaching his downed target, Vrór retrieved his two arrows… more to keep his identity from being known than for any hope of using them again. With his leather gloves on, Vrór dug into the man’s item sack and pulled out the spherical object and some trinkets from within.
Turning his attention to the downed man, the Dwarf said “You’re lucky I am who I am, otherwise, you might as well be lying dead now. Though you ran off with some of his valuable possessions, your master is willing to forgive you. Had you bolted though, your death would have been as rapid in coming as your sleep was. Rest now and heal; I may need you at some point in the future.” With this, the odd dwarf returned to the trees and began moving through its branches to collect his reward.
Looks good. Backgrounds more than needed. You're in, welcome to Dark Isles. Since you're a Dwarf, you start off in the Outer Rim. If there isn't a quest you can get into, Myself, or an admin will make one for you.
