Post by thatonerandomdude on Aug 6, 2015 18:53:04 GMT
Name:
Alistair Eircheard
Age:
25
Nationality:
Highlands
Hair:
Long, Dark Brown
Eyes:
Dark Green
Facial Markings:
Short Beard, Small Scar on Left Jaw
Skin Color:
Light
Height: 6' 1"
Weight:
180lbs
Build:
Strong, Well Toned Muscles
Body Markings:
Missing Half of Left Pinkie Finger and Tip of Left Ring Finger, Scar On Right Rib cage, Scar on Right Thigh
Interests:
Horse Riding, Talking, Hunting, Farming
Dislikes: Pompous Lords, Killing Needlessly, Slavery
Strengths:
Observant, Loyal to a Fault, Brave (though sometimes foolishly)
Weaknesses:
Women, Drinking, Occasional Pain in Shoulder
Skills:
Two-Handed Weapons, Riding, Archery
Fears:
Fires, Dogs, Failing to Save His Fiance
Profession:
Soldier, Mercenary
Backround/History:
Alistair was born in a small village named Lauchlan to Donnan and Bridget Eircheard. Growing up, Alistair had one dream, and that was to leave his village, the farming and the boring life behind. He spent his time hunting, perfecting the art of the bow until he was considered a master at the age of 15. He skills put meat on the table every winter, and was the only thing Alistair really liked about his time as a farmers son. When he was 16, Alistair was hunting a boar when the beast charged him. Alistair tripped on a root and fell, but was able to roll away from the beast shortly before it was upon him. One of the tusks, however, caught Alistair on the ribs, leaving a scar in the years to come. After the boars charged took it past Alistair, he jumped up, climbed into a tree and shot the boar dead. But his life of carefree living and peace was soon to end. After his 17th birthday, soldiers came to Alistair's village, with orders to recruit, by force if necessary, the boys of the village to serve as the front line in a war that had been raging for a decade. Alistair's father, in fear of losing his own son, tried to fight the soldiers back, and was slain. To avoid bringing further grief upon his mother and two younger sisters, and with the hope of adventure, Alistair agreed to go. As Alistair prepared to leave, his mother came to him to say one last goodbye, and to deliver a gift. After a tearful farewell, she handed Alistair an embroiderer package, and told him to unwrap it when his party made camp that night. The party commander signaled the advance, and with that, Alistair's life as a farmers son was over.
After riding for several hours, Alistair, who was unaccustomed to long rides, was pleased to hear the order to make camp. After pitching his tent, taking care of his horse and preparing a meal, Alistair leaned on a log to examine the gift his mother had given him. The embroidered handkerchief was the most beautiful he had seen, definitely of his mothers making, with the carefully stitched pattern of the glen near the village. But what it was wrapped around was what peaked Alistair's interest. Slowly and carefully he unwrapped the object, and out rolled a dagger. Along with the dagger was a note, telling him of how the blade was his Grandfathers, who used it during the Great War of the Glens so many years before. There was nothing particularly special about the dagger, no intricate carvings or jewels handles, but the blade was still a wonderful gift. Along with his hand made bow, the dagger somehow made young Alistair feel like he was ready to conquer the world. But that feeling was soon to fade.
Alistair's village had been the last of the soldiers stops, and so the party traveled straight to the war camp. However, about a days ride from their destination, the party was attacked by a group of rebels. Many of the young conscripts were killed, but the soldiers managed to push the attackers with ease, although one of the attackers managed to slip past. With his blade raised, he prepared to deal a killing blow to the commander, who turned just in time to push the hostile blade away with his own. The attacker then pinned the commanders blade with his foot, and was ready to win the fight, when an arrow suddenly sprouted from his back. As the rebel fell, the commander looked to see who had saved his life, and there, standing on the supply cart, was Alistair, who quickly put two more arrows in another rebel. The rebels were now disposed of, and the party, seeing no reason to tarry, burned the dead and rode straight for the war camp.
Alistair's first taste of war came the very next day. Since the conscripts were there only to break the enemy lines, and not expected to live, no one wasted their time in training them. They were outfitted with short swords and shields, and ragged mail shirts, and sent off to their positions in the front. Alistair was pleased to find himself placed with the rest of the lads from his home. Somehow it gave him a sense of hope. The order to prepare the attack was sent through the camp. Alistair put on his mail shirt, strapped his sword and dagger behind, left his shield and took his bow and quiver. The conscripts lined up ad got their irst look at the enemy. Large men, with polished armor and shining weapons, wearing a banner of black and red, loomed before them. This was the enemy he had to face. This is who threatened his country and village. Alistair looked around and saw those he was fighting with, and sent up a quick prayer to whoever was listening, and prepared to charge. The horns blew, and a deafening roar broke loose from the to armies. The battle had begun, and Alistair was on the charge. Sheathing his sword, he took out his bow and started firing into the enemy line, killing soldiers with almost every shot. a few feet from the line he returned his bow to his back and drew his sword, leaped into the air, and shoved it into a mans helmet, killing him instantly. For what seemed like hours Alistair fought, far longer then he expected to even remain alive, till he finally stopped and looked around. Bodies lay strewn across the battlefield, many dead, some wounded. His stomach lurched, but he had no time to vomit, for another enemy charged him. Alistair quickly sheathed his sword and brought out his bow yet again, and dispatched the enemy with an arrow to the neck. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the battle drew to a close. Victory was theirs, and Alistair returned to his camp to see if anyone from his village had survived.
Most the conscripts were dead, but to everyone's surprise, only one from Alistair's village had perished. Alistair's own success on the battlefield brought him fame, and he was put in command the men from Lauchlan. They were assigned as scouts, riding ahead of the army and surveying the enemy position. Alistair often saw combat with this unit, either from outlaws or enemy scouts, and yet always managed to defeat his enemies and stay alive. For two years Alistair commanded the scouts, but slowly and surly all his "Lads from Lauchlan" fell to the sword. Alistair himself was then known only as Lauchlan, one of the last of hi s brethren. He was convinced his time was coming, and it surely did. He was scouting for a place for the army to camp for the night, when he was ambushed. Many of his men were killed by arrow fire, the rest locked in hand to hand combat. Alistair his self was knocked off his horse and was forced to fight with his bare hands. He was outmatched in strength by his opponent, but Alistair was quicker. He threw a handful of dirt in the eyes of the outlaw, who then responded with a wild hay-maker to the right. Alistair ducked under the punch, drew his grandfathers dagger, and shoved between the outlaws ribs. As Alistair regained his posture and assessed the rest of the fight, he was knocked to the ground from behind. He rolled over, and his attacker placed his boot on Alistair's chest, pinning him to the ground. Unable to get his sword from its sheath, and his dagger laying on the ground a few feet from him, Alistair new his time was at an end. Time seemed to slow for you Alistair. He saw his enemy prepare his attack, a swift slash to the throat, and Alistair knew what he had to do. As the ragged short sword came flying toward his neck, Alistair reached with his left hand and grabbed the blade, and with his right drew the mans own dagger from his belt and plunged it into his heart. The man stood motionless for a moment before looking down at the wound, then looking back at Alistair he said "well played mate, well play" and fell to the ground dead. Alistair tried standing, but as he went to push himself up his body clenched in pain. The penalty for grabbing the blade had cost him his pinkie and ring finger. Before he could stand, he was smashed over the shoulder by a large club, knocking him out instantly.
Alistair woke a few hours later in a small hut. A older man sat in the corner by a fire, smoking a pipe and drinking wine. After noticing Alistair awake, he slowly approached, explaining that he ad found the place of the small battle, and that Alistair was the only one he found alive, and that he had brought Alistair back to is home to heal his wounds. Alistair examined his hand, and his stomach dropped when he saw his mutilated fingers. He then noticed a large white sling on his right arm, and bandages on his shoulder, the one that had been struck. The old man said his shoulder was not broken, just dislocated and severely bruised. For several weeks Alistair stayed with the man, helping with whatever he could while his shoulder and fingers healed. Finally, Alistair was ready to leave and head back to his camp. The old man offered Alistair a horse, which he accepted graciously, and as Alistair saddled the steed, the man brought out a beautiful two-handed sword. He said that since Alistair would no longer be able to hold a bow steadily anymore, that he would need something else to protect him when push came to shove. Alistair took the blade, thanked the man kindly, and rode off in what he hoped was the direction of the army. Alistair arrived at the camp three days later, only to find that it was the scene of a brutal and bloody battle, one that his people had lost. He went into a nearby town, and asked what had happened. Apparently the army had camped there for the night, when the enemy came in and attacked without warning. The army had fought bravely, but was unprepared and no match for the attackers. With the tragic defeat, the enemy had won the war.
Alistair, who was now mostly called Lauchlan, then attempted to join a mercenary company called "the Talon's". Their leader, a grumpy old man, told Alistair that in order to join he would have to prove that he could handle the blade he know carried. Knowing he lacked the skill or experience to masterfully wield the large blade, Alistair began to search for someone to teach him the way of two-handed combat. He found his teacher in a farmer, who had once fought as a solider himself, in exchange for help around the farm. For the next six weeks, Alistair trained with unequaled determination, and worked the farm with discipline and interest. Not only did he learn the art of the great-sword, he learned how to plant, grow and tend to crops, something Alistair was ashamed he didn't know as a farmers son. Finally, during one of their sparring sessions, Alistair beat the old farmer. Finally ready to prove his skill, Alistair, or Lauchlan, searched out the leader of the Talon's, and found him in a local tavern. The man looked at Lauchlan as if he were a child, who in return tossed his glove. The duel took place in the town square, with half the townsfolk present. The old man taunted Lauchlan, who slowly circled around his opponent. Then he lunged swinging for the neck. The old man blocked the assault, then swung his blade in a wide arch in an attempt to cleave Lauchlan in two. Lauchlan side stepped the attack, which continued until the tip of the blade buried itself in the ground. Lauchlan then pinned the sword there with his foot and raised his blade till it was pressed into the mans throat. A roar of applause erupted from the crown. Lauchlan expected the talon's leader to be angry at the defeat, but instead smiled and welcomed Lauchlan into the company.
For three years Lauchlan served with the Talon's, battling outlaws and guarding caravans. He became a favorite bounty hunter for the local magistrate, never losing a single criminal. But in one day it all ended. Lauchlan was given a mission to track an outlaw who had been suspected of killing fifteen people in a drunken rage. He tracked the man to a small village, where the man had taken hostages to prevent being captured himself. Lauchlan sent word of this back to the magistrate, who replied with the one answer Lauchlan did not want to hear. His orders were to kill whoever it took to take out the murderer. Lauchlan complied, even though his gut told him not to, and as a result, only four people were left alive in the village. Lauchlan was treated as a hero, but the screams of the innocents haunted his dreams. He retired from the Talon's, and with the small fortune he had saved from his work, bought a small farm near the small port city where he had joined the Talon's. He also became engaged to Kara, the daughter of the farmer who taught Lauchlan to fight with his two-handed sword. For about a year Lauchlan lived in peace, but that peace would not last long. A few weeks before their wedding, pirates attacked the city, destroying half of it and burning many of the surrounding farms. Kara's father was killed his farm burnt and plundered, and she herself was kidnapped by the pirates. Lauchlan, overcome by grief and anger, hired a small ship and with the help of a few of his friends from the Talon's, chased after the pirates. Unfortunately more misfortune followed Lauchlan in the form of a massive storm. His ship was thrown off course smashed upon the rocks. Lauchlan was the only survivor.
Lauchlan lived in the forest for about two months before he finally decided to return to the life a soldier. He traveled to New Zendar, and there he joined the garrison. He served for only a short time before he was taken captive by the Zendar's enemies in Laras Outpost. He was kept there for what seemed and eternity before he was finally released, but carried a memory of his time in captivity in the form of a large scar on his right thigh. Now healed, Lauchlan continues his work as a Zendar soldier, raising money and searching for information about his lost love, although his search is fruitless. Weary from his lack of success, Lauchlan has almost lost hope. Will he ever find his love? Or will he be forced to move on with his life and abandon all hope of rescuing the maiden? Who knows...
Equipment: Common: Leather Jerkin, Leather boots and Gloves, Two-Handed Sword. In Times of War: Cuir Bouilli, Great Helm, Gauntlets and Iron Grieves, Great-sword.
Alistair Eircheard
Age:
25
Nationality:
Highlands
Hair:
Long, Dark Brown
Eyes:
Dark Green
Facial Markings:
Short Beard, Small Scar on Left Jaw
Skin Color:
Light
Height: 6' 1"
Weight:
180lbs
Build:
Strong, Well Toned Muscles
Body Markings:
Missing Half of Left Pinkie Finger and Tip of Left Ring Finger, Scar On Right Rib cage, Scar on Right Thigh
Interests:
Horse Riding, Talking, Hunting, Farming
Dislikes: Pompous Lords, Killing Needlessly, Slavery
Strengths:
Observant, Loyal to a Fault, Brave (though sometimes foolishly)
Weaknesses:
Women, Drinking, Occasional Pain in Shoulder
Skills:
Two-Handed Weapons, Riding, Archery
Fears:
Fires, Dogs, Failing to Save His Fiance
Profession:
Soldier, Mercenary
Backround/History:
Alistair was born in a small village named Lauchlan to Donnan and Bridget Eircheard. Growing up, Alistair had one dream, and that was to leave his village, the farming and the boring life behind. He spent his time hunting, perfecting the art of the bow until he was considered a master at the age of 15. He skills put meat on the table every winter, and was the only thing Alistair really liked about his time as a farmers son. When he was 16, Alistair was hunting a boar when the beast charged him. Alistair tripped on a root and fell, but was able to roll away from the beast shortly before it was upon him. One of the tusks, however, caught Alistair on the ribs, leaving a scar in the years to come. After the boars charged took it past Alistair, he jumped up, climbed into a tree and shot the boar dead. But his life of carefree living and peace was soon to end. After his 17th birthday, soldiers came to Alistair's village, with orders to recruit, by force if necessary, the boys of the village to serve as the front line in a war that had been raging for a decade. Alistair's father, in fear of losing his own son, tried to fight the soldiers back, and was slain. To avoid bringing further grief upon his mother and two younger sisters, and with the hope of adventure, Alistair agreed to go. As Alistair prepared to leave, his mother came to him to say one last goodbye, and to deliver a gift. After a tearful farewell, she handed Alistair an embroiderer package, and told him to unwrap it when his party made camp that night. The party commander signaled the advance, and with that, Alistair's life as a farmers son was over.
After riding for several hours, Alistair, who was unaccustomed to long rides, was pleased to hear the order to make camp. After pitching his tent, taking care of his horse and preparing a meal, Alistair leaned on a log to examine the gift his mother had given him. The embroidered handkerchief was the most beautiful he had seen, definitely of his mothers making, with the carefully stitched pattern of the glen near the village. But what it was wrapped around was what peaked Alistair's interest. Slowly and carefully he unwrapped the object, and out rolled a dagger. Along with the dagger was a note, telling him of how the blade was his Grandfathers, who used it during the Great War of the Glens so many years before. There was nothing particularly special about the dagger, no intricate carvings or jewels handles, but the blade was still a wonderful gift. Along with his hand made bow, the dagger somehow made young Alistair feel like he was ready to conquer the world. But that feeling was soon to fade.
Alistair's village had been the last of the soldiers stops, and so the party traveled straight to the war camp. However, about a days ride from their destination, the party was attacked by a group of rebels. Many of the young conscripts were killed, but the soldiers managed to push the attackers with ease, although one of the attackers managed to slip past. With his blade raised, he prepared to deal a killing blow to the commander, who turned just in time to push the hostile blade away with his own. The attacker then pinned the commanders blade with his foot, and was ready to win the fight, when an arrow suddenly sprouted from his back. As the rebel fell, the commander looked to see who had saved his life, and there, standing on the supply cart, was Alistair, who quickly put two more arrows in another rebel. The rebels were now disposed of, and the party, seeing no reason to tarry, burned the dead and rode straight for the war camp.
Alistair's first taste of war came the very next day. Since the conscripts were there only to break the enemy lines, and not expected to live, no one wasted their time in training them. They were outfitted with short swords and shields, and ragged mail shirts, and sent off to their positions in the front. Alistair was pleased to find himself placed with the rest of the lads from his home. Somehow it gave him a sense of hope. The order to prepare the attack was sent through the camp. Alistair put on his mail shirt, strapped his sword and dagger behind, left his shield and took his bow and quiver. The conscripts lined up ad got their irst look at the enemy. Large men, with polished armor and shining weapons, wearing a banner of black and red, loomed before them. This was the enemy he had to face. This is who threatened his country and village. Alistair looked around and saw those he was fighting with, and sent up a quick prayer to whoever was listening, and prepared to charge. The horns blew, and a deafening roar broke loose from the to armies. The battle had begun, and Alistair was on the charge. Sheathing his sword, he took out his bow and started firing into the enemy line, killing soldiers with almost every shot. a few feet from the line he returned his bow to his back and drew his sword, leaped into the air, and shoved it into a mans helmet, killing him instantly. For what seemed like hours Alistair fought, far longer then he expected to even remain alive, till he finally stopped and looked around. Bodies lay strewn across the battlefield, many dead, some wounded. His stomach lurched, but he had no time to vomit, for another enemy charged him. Alistair quickly sheathed his sword and brought out his bow yet again, and dispatched the enemy with an arrow to the neck. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the battle drew to a close. Victory was theirs, and Alistair returned to his camp to see if anyone from his village had survived.
Most the conscripts were dead, but to everyone's surprise, only one from Alistair's village had perished. Alistair's own success on the battlefield brought him fame, and he was put in command the men from Lauchlan. They were assigned as scouts, riding ahead of the army and surveying the enemy position. Alistair often saw combat with this unit, either from outlaws or enemy scouts, and yet always managed to defeat his enemies and stay alive. For two years Alistair commanded the scouts, but slowly and surly all his "Lads from Lauchlan" fell to the sword. Alistair himself was then known only as Lauchlan, one of the last of hi s brethren. He was convinced his time was coming, and it surely did. He was scouting for a place for the army to camp for the night, when he was ambushed. Many of his men were killed by arrow fire, the rest locked in hand to hand combat. Alistair his self was knocked off his horse and was forced to fight with his bare hands. He was outmatched in strength by his opponent, but Alistair was quicker. He threw a handful of dirt in the eyes of the outlaw, who then responded with a wild hay-maker to the right. Alistair ducked under the punch, drew his grandfathers dagger, and shoved between the outlaws ribs. As Alistair regained his posture and assessed the rest of the fight, he was knocked to the ground from behind. He rolled over, and his attacker placed his boot on Alistair's chest, pinning him to the ground. Unable to get his sword from its sheath, and his dagger laying on the ground a few feet from him, Alistair new his time was at an end. Time seemed to slow for you Alistair. He saw his enemy prepare his attack, a swift slash to the throat, and Alistair knew what he had to do. As the ragged short sword came flying toward his neck, Alistair reached with his left hand and grabbed the blade, and with his right drew the mans own dagger from his belt and plunged it into his heart. The man stood motionless for a moment before looking down at the wound, then looking back at Alistair he said "well played mate, well play" and fell to the ground dead. Alistair tried standing, but as he went to push himself up his body clenched in pain. The penalty for grabbing the blade had cost him his pinkie and ring finger. Before he could stand, he was smashed over the shoulder by a large club, knocking him out instantly.
Alistair woke a few hours later in a small hut. A older man sat in the corner by a fire, smoking a pipe and drinking wine. After noticing Alistair awake, he slowly approached, explaining that he ad found the place of the small battle, and that Alistair was the only one he found alive, and that he had brought Alistair back to is home to heal his wounds. Alistair examined his hand, and his stomach dropped when he saw his mutilated fingers. He then noticed a large white sling on his right arm, and bandages on his shoulder, the one that had been struck. The old man said his shoulder was not broken, just dislocated and severely bruised. For several weeks Alistair stayed with the man, helping with whatever he could while his shoulder and fingers healed. Finally, Alistair was ready to leave and head back to his camp. The old man offered Alistair a horse, which he accepted graciously, and as Alistair saddled the steed, the man brought out a beautiful two-handed sword. He said that since Alistair would no longer be able to hold a bow steadily anymore, that he would need something else to protect him when push came to shove. Alistair took the blade, thanked the man kindly, and rode off in what he hoped was the direction of the army. Alistair arrived at the camp three days later, only to find that it was the scene of a brutal and bloody battle, one that his people had lost. He went into a nearby town, and asked what had happened. Apparently the army had camped there for the night, when the enemy came in and attacked without warning. The army had fought bravely, but was unprepared and no match for the attackers. With the tragic defeat, the enemy had won the war.
Alistair, who was now mostly called Lauchlan, then attempted to join a mercenary company called "the Talon's". Their leader, a grumpy old man, told Alistair that in order to join he would have to prove that he could handle the blade he know carried. Knowing he lacked the skill or experience to masterfully wield the large blade, Alistair began to search for someone to teach him the way of two-handed combat. He found his teacher in a farmer, who had once fought as a solider himself, in exchange for help around the farm. For the next six weeks, Alistair trained with unequaled determination, and worked the farm with discipline and interest. Not only did he learn the art of the great-sword, he learned how to plant, grow and tend to crops, something Alistair was ashamed he didn't know as a farmers son. Finally, during one of their sparring sessions, Alistair beat the old farmer. Finally ready to prove his skill, Alistair, or Lauchlan, searched out the leader of the Talon's, and found him in a local tavern. The man looked at Lauchlan as if he were a child, who in return tossed his glove. The duel took place in the town square, with half the townsfolk present. The old man taunted Lauchlan, who slowly circled around his opponent. Then he lunged swinging for the neck. The old man blocked the assault, then swung his blade in a wide arch in an attempt to cleave Lauchlan in two. Lauchlan side stepped the attack, which continued until the tip of the blade buried itself in the ground. Lauchlan then pinned the sword there with his foot and raised his blade till it was pressed into the mans throat. A roar of applause erupted from the crown. Lauchlan expected the talon's leader to be angry at the defeat, but instead smiled and welcomed Lauchlan into the company.
For three years Lauchlan served with the Talon's, battling outlaws and guarding caravans. He became a favorite bounty hunter for the local magistrate, never losing a single criminal. But in one day it all ended. Lauchlan was given a mission to track an outlaw who had been suspected of killing fifteen people in a drunken rage. He tracked the man to a small village, where the man had taken hostages to prevent being captured himself. Lauchlan sent word of this back to the magistrate, who replied with the one answer Lauchlan did not want to hear. His orders were to kill whoever it took to take out the murderer. Lauchlan complied, even though his gut told him not to, and as a result, only four people were left alive in the village. Lauchlan was treated as a hero, but the screams of the innocents haunted his dreams. He retired from the Talon's, and with the small fortune he had saved from his work, bought a small farm near the small port city where he had joined the Talon's. He also became engaged to Kara, the daughter of the farmer who taught Lauchlan to fight with his two-handed sword. For about a year Lauchlan lived in peace, but that peace would not last long. A few weeks before their wedding, pirates attacked the city, destroying half of it and burning many of the surrounding farms. Kara's father was killed his farm burnt and plundered, and she herself was kidnapped by the pirates. Lauchlan, overcome by grief and anger, hired a small ship and with the help of a few of his friends from the Talon's, chased after the pirates. Unfortunately more misfortune followed Lauchlan in the form of a massive storm. His ship was thrown off course smashed upon the rocks. Lauchlan was the only survivor.
Lauchlan lived in the forest for about two months before he finally decided to return to the life a soldier. He traveled to New Zendar, and there he joined the garrison. He served for only a short time before he was taken captive by the Zendar's enemies in Laras Outpost. He was kept there for what seemed and eternity before he was finally released, but carried a memory of his time in captivity in the form of a large scar on his right thigh. Now healed, Lauchlan continues his work as a Zendar soldier, raising money and searching for information about his lost love, although his search is fruitless. Weary from his lack of success, Lauchlan has almost lost hope. Will he ever find his love? Or will he be forced to move on with his life and abandon all hope of rescuing the maiden? Who knows...
Equipment: Common: Leather Jerkin, Leather boots and Gloves, Two-Handed Sword. In Times of War: Cuir Bouilli, Great Helm, Gauntlets and Iron Grieves, Great-sword.