Post by johannesgeebus on Aug 8, 2015 22:30:48 GMT
Name: Sydney
Age: 19
Nationality: Sarranid
Hair: Black
Eyes: Turquoise
Facial Markings: None
Skin Color: Bronze
Height: 5'4"
Weight: 120
Build: Light
Body Markings: A thief's brand on her right wrist.
Interests: Acrobatics, Running, Healing.
Dislikes: Melee Combat, Being Cornered, Nobility.
Weaknesses: Not very skilled in melee.
Skills: Thieving, Free Running, Wound Treatment.
Fears: Crowds
Background/History:
A young girl was born to no known parents in the city of Praven. There, she grew up as a street urchin, living off of other people's coin and whatever she could pickpocket from unsuspecting citizens. When she was estimated to be four years old, she was caught with her hand in a wealthy aristocrat's pocket. The aristocrat promptly held the girl down and called for the guards. He insisted that the girl's hand be cut off as punishment. The guards, having taken pity on the girl, decided to brand her instead. Her screams could be heard from halfway across the district.
Almost by coincidence, a street lord was strolling the streets, eying coin purses as he went. Then he heard a young girl scream coming from the town square and immediately took off. He arrived to see a young girl cradling her arm into her side, bawling at an incredible volume. He picked her up and carried her to his hideout, not knowing this moment would change both of their lives forever.
The girl didn't speak for three days, eating little, sleeping even less. The gang grew concerned for the girl. On the fourth day, the street lord sat down with her and showed him his thief's brand. She looked at him with huge eyes and asked him how he got it. He replied with," Stickin' me hand in purse."
The girl laughed, it reminded the street lord of his little sister, a tear began to form in his eye.
Shaking his head, he asked her," Lass, what's your name? I ain't gonna call you lass forever, am I?"
She looked down and shrugged," I... don't know."
The street lord though for a few seconds, fingering his bone-carved necklace, then his head popped up," How does Sydney sound to you? You think that would be a good name for ya?"
"That sounds wonderful!" she beamed. "What's your name?"
"Me name's Johannes. Johannes Geebus. I try to leave out the Geebus part though.
"I like Geebus." Sydney giggled.
"Come on, Syd, lemme show you the rest of the family."
Sydney became a spitting image of the street lord's talents. She could swipe a purse with a bag of rocks, scale a wall in seconds, and even picked up on some techniques for wound treatment by eavesdropping on some surgeons. Sydney was the star of the family. When her thirteenth year came, Johannes even made a special trip to the palace bakery for a cake for her. The following year, she delivered a package of pastries from the same bakery for Johannes's supposed birthday.
Then, as with all good things in life, disaster struck. The Nords, let by Johannes's father, attacked Praven. The siege lasted for months, food became scarce for the poor, and shops ran out of business, meanwhile, the nobles were living the exact same life as ever before, ignorant of the suffering outside their palace. When a portion of the Nord army left, the people began to gain hope. Weeks later the Nords returned with wood and stone by the cartloads. Catapults where made, and they were fired. The city was devastated, thousands died, including Johannes's mother and sister. The attackers were eventually repelled, but not without cost.
Johannes became a shadow of his former self. He seemed disconnected from the rest of the world. He aimlessly wandered the streets with a faraway look in his eyes. Like young Sydney, he ate and slept trance amounts. Sydney took over operations with the gang, but she was never happy with it. When Johannes told them that he was leaving, she promptly told him that she was coming with him no matter what he said.
They traveled to a church a fair distance away from Praven, and lived with the monks for several years. They taught them both several things the they held close to their hearts. For Syd, it was more advanced arts of wound treatment. For Johannes, it was through the Bagpipe. Sydney loved her life with the monks, and stayed with them for another month after Johannes left so she could finish learning to read.
The day she left the monks was a sad day indeed. Sydney had just turned eighteen, and was eager to find Johannes. The monks gave her a ring in the shape of a dragon and a wolf intertwined and a medicine box with a similar design engraved on it. With a lot of heartfelt crying between them, Sydney and the abbot bade each other farewell.
Following somewhat unreliable directions from the various people Johannes interacted with, Sydney made her way to the northern edge of Rhodok lands. She was greeted by rising smoke and the sounds of battle. She quickly raced toward the sound with the same desperation Johannes's did for her fourteen years ago. She arrived too late. Bodies of poorly armed townsfolk and a few armored men littered the dirt pathways of the village. It was the scene of a massacre. Sydney, her heart beating faster than ever before, looked for her lifelong friend. His body was nowhere to be seen. But then, her eyes caught a small trail of blood leading toward a shack on the edge of the town. She timidly walked into the building and gasped aloud. The body of Johannes, the legendary Praven street lord, sat hunched over in a chair, arrows sticking in several places in his body. Crying aloud she clung to the corpse of her first friend and cried like she cried all those years ago. Minutes passed. With her eyes bleary from crying, she picked up a piece of paper with words scribbled on it. Tentatively, she read the note.
Dear Syd,
I know these passed years have been hard on you, and now your world seems to have collapsed around you.
For if you are reading this,Syd, then I am probably dead. But do not despair. No matter what, I will always be with you.
You know, back when I first found you in the town center, I never though you would turn out as amazing as you are now.
Do not let my death sadden you. Stay strong Syd. I will always be with you. Never forget that.
Abbot Malthus told me this saying from his people,"Death is only a second beginning." He never if it was a good beginning or not....
The people here, they're good folks, but they can't do what we have done for years alone.
They need help from inconsiderate and negligent nobles, too unaware of anything beyond their nose hairs.
They need somebody to help them. Syd, they need you. Save these people, for me.
-Johannes
Sydney stared at the note for a few seconds. Then, with a sigh, she carefully folded the note and put it in her medicine box. She looked at the body of her friend for a few longing seconds before turning away and walking out the building. She took a deep breath, and exhaled slowly. Facing ahead, she stretched her arms and started walking to the tavern, where she heard the groans of wounded men. Scalpel in hand, she advanced into the tavern, ready to make Johannes proud.
Equipment: Surgeon's Coat, Surgeon's ScalpelShaking his head, he asked her," Lass, what's your name? I ain't gonna call you lass forever, am I?"
She looked down and shrugged," I... don't know."
The street lord though for a few seconds, fingering his bone-carved necklace, then his head popped up," How does Sydney sound to you? You think that would be a good name for ya?"
"That sounds wonderful!" she beamed. "What's your name?"
"Me name's Johannes. Johannes Geebus. I try to leave out the Geebus part though.
"I like Geebus." Sydney giggled.
"Come on, Syd, lemme show you the rest of the family."
Sydney became a spitting image of the street lord's talents. She could swipe a purse with a bag of rocks, scale a wall in seconds, and even picked up on some techniques for wound treatment by eavesdropping on some surgeons. Sydney was the star of the family. When her thirteenth year came, Johannes even made a special trip to the palace bakery for a cake for her. The following year, she delivered a package of pastries from the same bakery for Johannes's supposed birthday.
Then, as with all good things in life, disaster struck. The Nords, let by Johannes's father, attacked Praven. The siege lasted for months, food became scarce for the poor, and shops ran out of business, meanwhile, the nobles were living the exact same life as ever before, ignorant of the suffering outside their palace. When a portion of the Nord army left, the people began to gain hope. Weeks later the Nords returned with wood and stone by the cartloads. Catapults where made, and they were fired. The city was devastated, thousands died, including Johannes's mother and sister. The attackers were eventually repelled, but not without cost.
Johannes became a shadow of his former self. He seemed disconnected from the rest of the world. He aimlessly wandered the streets with a faraway look in his eyes. Like young Sydney, he ate and slept trance amounts. Sydney took over operations with the gang, but she was never happy with it. When Johannes told them that he was leaving, she promptly told him that she was coming with him no matter what he said.
They traveled to a church a fair distance away from Praven, and lived with the monks for several years. They taught them both several things the they held close to their hearts. For Syd, it was more advanced arts of wound treatment. For Johannes, it was through the Bagpipe. Sydney loved her life with the monks, and stayed with them for another month after Johannes left so she could finish learning to read.
The day she left the monks was a sad day indeed. Sydney had just turned eighteen, and was eager to find Johannes. The monks gave her a ring in the shape of a dragon and a wolf intertwined and a medicine box with a similar design engraved on it. With a lot of heartfelt crying between them, Sydney and the abbot bade each other farewell.
Following somewhat unreliable directions from the various people Johannes interacted with, Sydney made her way to the northern edge of Rhodok lands. She was greeted by rising smoke and the sounds of battle. She quickly raced toward the sound with the same desperation Johannes's did for her fourteen years ago. She arrived too late. Bodies of poorly armed townsfolk and a few armored men littered the dirt pathways of the village. It was the scene of a massacre. Sydney, her heart beating faster than ever before, looked for her lifelong friend. His body was nowhere to be seen. But then, her eyes caught a small trail of blood leading toward a shack on the edge of the town. She timidly walked into the building and gasped aloud. The body of Johannes, the legendary Praven street lord, sat hunched over in a chair, arrows sticking in several places in his body. Crying aloud she clung to the corpse of her first friend and cried like she cried all those years ago. Minutes passed. With her eyes bleary from crying, she picked up a piece of paper with words scribbled on it. Tentatively, she read the note.
Dear Syd,
I know these passed years have been hard on you, and now your world seems to have collapsed around you.
For if you are reading this,Syd, then I am probably dead. But do not despair. No matter what, I will always be with you.
You know, back when I first found you in the town center, I never though you would turn out as amazing as you are now.
Do not let my death sadden you. Stay strong Syd. I will always be with you. Never forget that.
Abbot Malthus told me this saying from his people,"Death is only a second beginning." He never if it was a good beginning or not....
The people here, they're good folks, but they can't do what we have done for years alone.
They need help from inconsiderate and negligent nobles, too unaware of anything beyond their nose hairs.
They need somebody to help them. Syd, they need you. Save these people, for me.
-Johannes
Sydney stared at the note for a few seconds. Then, with a sigh, she carefully folded the note and put it in her medicine box. She looked at the body of her friend for a few longing seconds before turning away and walking out the building. She took a deep breath, and exhaled slowly. Facing ahead, she stretched her arms and started walking to the tavern, where she heard the groans of wounded men. Scalpel in hand, she advanced into the tavern, ready to make Johannes proud.