Name: Azimov Elderroot
Age: 60 Years
Sex: Male
Weight: 190 lbs
Height: 6ft
Eye color: Green
Hair: Fine brown
Element: Earth
Physical description: Wears a black hood and cloak with ragged leather boots. Has a haggard face, but eyes show wisdom and humor. He is skinny but surprisingly nimble. Has long legs and arms. His skin is pale.
Personality: Jovial and humorous to hide his pain. But when things get tough, is dead serious and sometimes kind of anal.
Class: Druid
Level: 1
Equip: Oak Staff
Black hood
Black Cloak
Leather boots
Silver ring
Skills: ( at the moment) Flurry of leaves and Vine drain
Backround:
My name is Azimov. My life is pretty generic, well it was at least. But I should explain my past to show the present situation. I am part of the druid clan known as the Nadrigal. Located in the heart of woodland within Hybernia, we worked to keep the forest alive and well. Song, dance, and playing with nature are what we are all about. We used the magic handed down for generations to aid the forest and have the forest aid us. It was a peaceful simple life, but back to me. I was born under a full moon 60 years ago (that may seem like a long time for you…humans and your axes, but to us it is a eye blink.) As I grew up my features were that of a standard elf in a druid clan: slim figure, fine brown hair, green eyes, height of 6 ft, 190 lbs. Being a druid I’m not exactly muscular, just nimble. At the age of 60 every elf in our clan has to go through a ‘rite of passage’ if you will. To declare our loyalty to the element of the earth, and to protect it no matter the cost. Donned in the standard clothing of a black cloth and hood as well as my leather boots. I approached the alter and cast my blood on the roots of the tree of the earth, the oldest known tree in our woodland. Afterwards I was given the staff of the oak and a sliver ring and felt the knowledge of druid magic’s flow through me. After a few weeks had gone by I began to train my abilities to the point of perfection within the woods. When I returned one day I found my village in ruins. Cleaved by orc axes. Almost instantly the land began to whither and die. I vowed revenge. I took what I could and left the dead wood. I realize I cannot defeat the orcs where I am now. So I shall do quests, further my skills and eventually have my revenge.
First things first: this is a good start.
Hybernia is home to Human Rangers, not Elfs. Elfs are found in the Outer Rim, the island of Lien in the city of Lienthala, to be precise. You may wanna fix that.
Your profile should be a bit longer than it is. Detail your trainings before you came to find your village destroyed. Describe the destruction so that the reader can see it in their mind (to the best of your ability), etc.
Once you feel you've improved it, reply to this topic to let the admin team know you think you're done, then it will be re-reviewed.
Name: Azimov Elderroot
Age: 60 Years
Sex: Male
Weight: 190 lbs
Height: 6ft
Eye color: Green
Hair: Fine brown
Element: Earth
Physical description: Wears a black hood and cloak with ragged leather boots. Has a haggard face, but eyes show wisdom and humor. He is skinny but surprisingly nimble. Has long legs and arms. His skin is pale.
Personality: Jovial and humorous to hide his pain. But when things get tough, is dead serious and sometimes kind of anal.
Class: Druid
Level: 1
Equip: Oak Staff
Black hood
Black Cloak
Leather boots
Silver ring
Skills: ( at the moment) Flurry of leaves and Vine drain
Backround:
My name is Azimov. My life is pretty generic, well it was at least. But I should explain my past to show the present situation. I am part of the druid clan known as the Nadrigal. Located in the heart of woodland within Outer rim, we worked to keep the forest alive and well. Song, dance, and playing with nature are what we are all about. We used the magic handed down for generations to aid the forest and have the forest aid us. It was a peaceful simple life, but back to me. I was born under a full moon 60 years ago (that may seem like a long time for you…humans and your axes, but to us it is a eye blink.) As I grew up my features were that of a standard elf in a druid clan: slim figure, fine brown hair, green eyes, height of 6 ft, 190 lbs. Being a druid I’m not exactly muscular, just nimble. At the age of 60 every elf in our clan has to go through a ‘rite of passage’ if you will. On the day of my birth, under the same full moon we travelled through the dark forest. I was clothed in the ceremonial black hood and cloak. The procession is a large one. My immediate family follows in order of age, in two by two rows; males on the right, females on the left, with my wife and I at the back. I remember feeling nervous about the task and responsibility that was about to be undertook. I contemplated running. No one would ever find me. I could live as a brutish lancer or con artist selling low carb. diets to fat nobles. I shook these thoughts out of my head and gazed at my wife. Her face was in the sly smile she always wore. Like she knew something funny, or the answers that I didn’t and it gave her this aura of confidence. I sighed at looked forward again. Along the way druids had placed firefly beacons to light our path, the little glowing patches of insects turned the dark woods, and the lone path into a type of corridor. As we proceeded I began to hear rumbling noise, a drumbeat that mimicked the rapid beat of my heart. As the sound became louder I began to pick up a faint glowing between the huge firs, which got brighter and larger with each step we took. When it seemed that everyone was going to be engulfed by the light, the path suddenly opened into a huge clearing. Directly across from the clearing stood the tallest tree I had ever seen. Its trunk stood so high as if it was a stairway to heaven. It also was lit like a shrine with sapling candles along the roots and lower branches, and arranged so it seemed like it was inviting me. At the base of the trunk stood the elder with a book and garbed in the skins of animals and branches. I was all too familiar with this tree, seeing it when my cousins and brothers were initiated as well as hearing the tales of its power. It was the life tree. The oldest tree in the forest and supposedly the tree that spawned us. My family parted as to encircle my wife and I within this area. It was at this point I realized the drum was not just one drum, emanating from this clearing, but many drums being played at the same time within the woods. I began to see faces of my friends and priests creep forth from the woods, they moved silently and got close to one another. I realized that this was not a ‘friends and family only,’ but the entire clan was here, hiding in the woods, surrounding the clearing. The drumming came to a complete stop, and aside from the crackle of the candles, the woods the silent. The elder began to speak of the tails, of why we live and guard the forest, and why we must protect it, and its balance. He asked me to approach alone. I took a deep breath and exhaled with each step I took. Since I forgot to breath in, I ran out of breath quickly and started to lightly gasp from nervousness. When I reached the elder he took my hand and began to speak louder than before. “When the life tree was growing an animal had come to it, the animal was hungry and needed food badly. It ripped off a piece of back from this tree and used it to regain its strength. From this wound in the tree however sap began to drop. As it dropped and dropped it began to take form. The tree then poured life into this sap and from it sprung the first elves. This is why we live in harmony and protect the forest, and all who live in it. With out the tree there would have been no sap, and without the animal there would be no cut. That is why we must protect that balance.” He looked deep into my eyes as if those piercing black eyes were searching my soul for flaws or dirty thoughts, anything to make me ‘impure.’ “Are you ready for the task you are about to take?” I bowed rather stiffly. “Then, since the tree poured some of its life into you, you must return some of that life to it.” He removed the ceremonial dagger from its sheath, and passed it to me. Its bark hilt itched my palm and its animal skull for decoration seemed to be mocking me. I slid the blade across my palm and let the blood drip onto the roots on the tree. I could have sworn I had seen a flash move along the tree, but that could have been the slight loss of blood (I'm not bulky remember.) I suddenly felt very strange, like a breeze has come over you on a hot day and I saw everything: every person, every animal, every tree that had ever been in this forest. I felt a rush of knowledge and I began to feel the forest. When I regained control of my mind I saw the elder smiling at me. He said the element of the earth has accepted me as its protector. And with that I was given the staff of the oak. After giving a look of relief to my wife, I let out the cry of festivities and we began to feast and dance all till dawn. Within the next few weeks I was like a child with a new toy. I practiced harnessing the earth and the forest to my will, and using it in a defensive mode. A few weeks later I had my abilities to the point of perfection. I could call upon the leaves of plants to cut at enemies and call forth vines to drain the life of predators. One day I was returning to the village on a sort of high feeling from using the two techniques in a combonation form from deep within the heart of the woods. I was so excited it wasnt until that litle alarm goes off inside of you that I stopped and looked around. The forest was defly silent, no birds, squirrels, or anything was making a noise, which was odd for a nice day. I took a couple of steps forward and then began to pick up a faint smell of cinder and smoke. As I proceeded twoard the village the smell became more grotesque and powerful with each step. I had also noticed that I had gone into a sprint and a type of panic, fearing what I knew the answer was, but all the same hiding it from my mind. I stumbled upon the ashen ruins of what was my village. Bodies were everywhere, that combined with the smell of burnt flesh and trees made me throw up on the spot. My mind was reeling from the horror that I was seeing. I stumbled to the spot where my house was, hoping to find my wife’s comforting smile there. Her Amber hair, and beautiful features making me feel calm and relaxed. Instead I found an ashen body. The tears leapt forth from my eyes blocking my vision temporarily, and I tried to pick up the body, only to have it fall apart in my hands. I stumbled around aimlessly looking for a survivor, already knowing there were none. I looked around for anyone that might be watching, and instead saw what seemed to be axe cleaves in the trees and realized that these were the axes of the fabled orcs. I had never believed the tales of travelers telling of the green and gray skinned monsters, whose lust for blood knew no bounds. But now I realize they were not kidding, they were serious. At the edge of the village I found a tattered flag with the picture of a flaming fist. I fell to my knees and continued to cry until it felt as though I had no water in my body at all. I clutched the flag and began to pull and rip at it. I suddenly felt empty, and then a fire. A rage awoke in me that I had never felt. I took my staff and sprinted hoping to find the orcs and slaughter them all. I would spill all of there blood into the roots and lugh as i watched them scream in agony as my vines crushed them, and my mighty leaves rend their bones. I kept running until I smacked into the life tree. I stopped and regained my consciousness just looking at it. I slapped myself and realized a lowly level one druid with leaves that give paper cuts, vines that cause as much trouble as tying someones boot straps together, and a staff the gives +1 charisma wouldn’t cut it against a clan or orcs with +15 axes. I knew what I had to do. I had to get stronger in the magic’s of the earth. But as I looked around I saw that the forest was dying. Even the life tree was wilting with the death of its children. I had to leave the forest, i had to hone my skills somewhere where there was life, life that needed to be protected. Taking the nearest sharp branch I cut my other palm and made a blood oath to the tree, to the tree I failed to protect that I would avenge it and my clan. I would kill every last one of the burning fist orcs and have them feel the pain that I, my Clan, the forest, and my family felt. I returned to the village and erected monuments for the deceased, putting a wreath of what was left of green leaves on my wife’s site. I could not cry anymore because my tears were spent. I only bowed my head and said a few words. I then took what I could and headed off, off to get stronger, off to find the bruning orcs, and gain my revenge. I am Azimov Elderroot and I am out for blood.
Wow... that's a LOT better. ^_^
Nice story, btw. Just a note for future reference: things are easier to read if the paragraphs are shorter. That chunk was hard to read at some points because i got lost in the lines. But it was a really good story. ^_^
Welcome to Dark Isles. As an Elfish Druid you start in Avalon: the continent of shadow.
