Post by nightshade13666 on Aug 9, 2015 4:09:37 GMT
Name: Dravik Dol Maydra (Rivax Nider for my first play as I was using my laptop, issue is fixed and only Dravik)
Age: 43
Nationality: Rhodok
Hair: Red
Eyes: Brown
Facial Markings: None
Skin Color: White
Height: 5'8''
Weight: 153 Ibs
Build: Lanky
Body Markings: A slash across his chest from a battle with a knight.
Interests: Human Pysche, Logic, Debate Reading, and Dancing
Dislikes: People without ideals.
Skills: Street-Wise. Good shot with crossbow. Avid reader. Knowledge of mining.
Fears: Failure to atone, being discovered, failure to change people.
Profession: Hard laborer.
History:
Dravik started as the third son of a serf who served an old lord of a Rhodok Castle. His name then, though, was Yansef Alma. Durning this time, the lord was largely apathetic to the people and let them do as they please to survive. It was a happy time for Dravik as he lived with his brothers, younger sister, Layla, and his parents. For seventeen years Dravik helped family, learning to mine and hunt with a crossbow. Layla would always long to go with the boys on their adventures, but was never allowed. Instead, she had to learn to sew, to cook, to clean, but with the left over time she had, she learned to dance. Dravik, taking a pity on his sister, and enjoying the fantasy that he would someday dance in a court, made a pact with his sister to teach her how to shoot if she taught him how to dance. And so this continued for a time. However, the lord soon died and the new lord was not so uncaring. The issue was that he was a tyrant. He took heavy measures upon all he saw breaking the law, often it was death, and the hunting that many peasants enjoyed, was considered poaching. One day, while Dravik and Layla were out teaching each other, the lord came to town, dragging in many hunters, including their father and brothers. As punishment, execution was laid upon the whole family. Dravik and Layla returned home in time to see their parents died and, realizing the danger, fled, him seventeen years old, her fifteen. A rage kindled in Dravik's heart that day, and he swore revenge, gashing his blood upon the forest that he and his family had hunted in for so long. And, above all else, came the desire for power, and the will to do any means necessary to claim the power for himself to strike down the man who had ripped away almost all he held dear, save Layla. To survive, Dravik took to thievery, but with the rage as fuel, it soon became murder, and murder lead to banditry, and banditry lead to mass crime.
For twenty-one years the man named Yansef Alma became a widely feared man who struck across the continent and operated in the wild and inside major cities like Jekala, Yalen, Dhirim, Wercheg, New Zendar, and Khudan. Known for their sudden volley of fire that took out entire caravans with survivors being dragged off screaming into the mountains or woods. Few returned. It was during this time that Dravik learned to read and write so as to better operate his large crime syndicate, and when he developed an interest in human psyche. It began when he was watching one of his torturer's peel apart the toenails of a peasant they had recently taken. There was no true point in the torture, sport, entertainment, and now, interest. He wondered, what made a man fear another, what caused him to shoot to rage. He began asking people about themselves, their lives, their wants, their hopes, dreams, reasons for doing anything at all. He usually tried to ask these questions to people he would capture, a before and after we shall say. To see if the answers changed at all. They often did. From their grew debate, as he crisscross and mixed and matched ideals with each other, arguing one and the other, spinning words. Afterwards he would sometimes laugh and say he should become a noble, there seemed little difference to him. Throughout it all, Layla stayed by his side, dancing. She was the only one who received what could truly be called tenderness from Dravik. A soft candle beside him in the night. She did not condone his violence, as she feared that would only destroy her, but did not approve of the bloodshed and murder.
All those years, the man once known as Yansef Alma did not forget what that lord did to his family, though his sister begged him to let it go, begged him to move on. He spent months planning and preparing his revenge, until, one night, he and a few close skilled men, stole into the castle and shot the lord while he was eating a feast with a bolt holding a message saying 'bracconiere' which means 'poacher.' Fleeing into the night, Dravik reveled in his victory for one year. Then, it came full circle. The son of the lord spent the family fortune to build ties and connections to reach Dravik and lashed out, killing his inner circle, with Dravik barely escaping with a dying Layla. Layla's words to him, changed him. Her death did not cement a new cycle of revenge, but instead instilled in him a sense to atone. Her words were a plea, a plea to change and leave behind. To forgive and become one. And, most importantly, to never break his promises. "Listen to me..Yansef..." "Layla, please, we need a doctor we need..." "Yansef, let me die...but promise me this, please, this one promise after all these years." "Anything." "Promise me that you will not seek revenge." "What?! Layla they..." "Yansef!...listen. Everyone killed me. If you had not killed the father, the son would not have come, if I had stood up to you throughout these years, this may not have happened, if you hadn't sworn revenge, less people would be in graves today. Don't you see, because people keep being moved to kill others, more are driven to do so. Promise that you won't, and that you will never break a promise." "Layla, I..." "Promise!" "...I promise."
From their the man now called Dravik wandered the lands for four years, changing his name after every town he went to, trying to change people in small ways. He believes that he can suffer whatever fate after death, so long as he sees his sister smiling in his mind. He found his way to New Zendar, taking up Dravik Dol Maydra as his new name and remembered the salt mines, where he decided that it was a worthy place to start here, work for many miners, punishment for many slaves, now a beginnings to more atonement for Dravik.
Perhaps Cliche, but should serve. I hope you enjoyed.
Equipment: Siege Crossbow, Knightly Sword, Mail Armor.
Age: 43
Nationality: Rhodok
Hair: Red
Eyes: Brown
Facial Markings: None
Skin Color: White
Height: 5'8''
Weight: 153 Ibs
Build: Lanky
Body Markings: A slash across his chest from a battle with a knight.
Interests: Human Pysche, Logic, Debate Reading, and Dancing
Dislikes: People without ideals.
Skills: Street-Wise. Good shot with crossbow. Avid reader. Knowledge of mining.
Fears: Failure to atone, being discovered, failure to change people.
Profession: Hard laborer.
History:
Dravik started as the third son of a serf who served an old lord of a Rhodok Castle. His name then, though, was Yansef Alma. Durning this time, the lord was largely apathetic to the people and let them do as they please to survive. It was a happy time for Dravik as he lived with his brothers, younger sister, Layla, and his parents. For seventeen years Dravik helped family, learning to mine and hunt with a crossbow. Layla would always long to go with the boys on their adventures, but was never allowed. Instead, she had to learn to sew, to cook, to clean, but with the left over time she had, she learned to dance. Dravik, taking a pity on his sister, and enjoying the fantasy that he would someday dance in a court, made a pact with his sister to teach her how to shoot if she taught him how to dance. And so this continued for a time. However, the lord soon died and the new lord was not so uncaring. The issue was that he was a tyrant. He took heavy measures upon all he saw breaking the law, often it was death, and the hunting that many peasants enjoyed, was considered poaching. One day, while Dravik and Layla were out teaching each other, the lord came to town, dragging in many hunters, including their father and brothers. As punishment, execution was laid upon the whole family. Dravik and Layla returned home in time to see their parents died and, realizing the danger, fled, him seventeen years old, her fifteen. A rage kindled in Dravik's heart that day, and he swore revenge, gashing his blood upon the forest that he and his family had hunted in for so long. And, above all else, came the desire for power, and the will to do any means necessary to claim the power for himself to strike down the man who had ripped away almost all he held dear, save Layla. To survive, Dravik took to thievery, but with the rage as fuel, it soon became murder, and murder lead to banditry, and banditry lead to mass crime.
For twenty-one years the man named Yansef Alma became a widely feared man who struck across the continent and operated in the wild and inside major cities like Jekala, Yalen, Dhirim, Wercheg, New Zendar, and Khudan. Known for their sudden volley of fire that took out entire caravans with survivors being dragged off screaming into the mountains or woods. Few returned. It was during this time that Dravik learned to read and write so as to better operate his large crime syndicate, and when he developed an interest in human psyche. It began when he was watching one of his torturer's peel apart the toenails of a peasant they had recently taken. There was no true point in the torture, sport, entertainment, and now, interest. He wondered, what made a man fear another, what caused him to shoot to rage. He began asking people about themselves, their lives, their wants, their hopes, dreams, reasons for doing anything at all. He usually tried to ask these questions to people he would capture, a before and after we shall say. To see if the answers changed at all. They often did. From their grew debate, as he crisscross and mixed and matched ideals with each other, arguing one and the other, spinning words. Afterwards he would sometimes laugh and say he should become a noble, there seemed little difference to him. Throughout it all, Layla stayed by his side, dancing. She was the only one who received what could truly be called tenderness from Dravik. A soft candle beside him in the night. She did not condone his violence, as she feared that would only destroy her, but did not approve of the bloodshed and murder.
All those years, the man once known as Yansef Alma did not forget what that lord did to his family, though his sister begged him to let it go, begged him to move on. He spent months planning and preparing his revenge, until, one night, he and a few close skilled men, stole into the castle and shot the lord while he was eating a feast with a bolt holding a message saying 'bracconiere' which means 'poacher.' Fleeing into the night, Dravik reveled in his victory for one year. Then, it came full circle. The son of the lord spent the family fortune to build ties and connections to reach Dravik and lashed out, killing his inner circle, with Dravik barely escaping with a dying Layla. Layla's words to him, changed him. Her death did not cement a new cycle of revenge, but instead instilled in him a sense to atone. Her words were a plea, a plea to change and leave behind. To forgive and become one. And, most importantly, to never break his promises. "Listen to me..Yansef..." "Layla, please, we need a doctor we need..." "Yansef, let me die...but promise me this, please, this one promise after all these years." "Anything." "Promise me that you will not seek revenge." "What?! Layla they..." "Yansef!...listen. Everyone killed me. If you had not killed the father, the son would not have come, if I had stood up to you throughout these years, this may not have happened, if you hadn't sworn revenge, less people would be in graves today. Don't you see, because people keep being moved to kill others, more are driven to do so. Promise that you won't, and that you will never break a promise." "Layla, I..." "Promise!" "...I promise."
From their the man now called Dravik wandered the lands for four years, changing his name after every town he went to, trying to change people in small ways. He believes that he can suffer whatever fate after death, so long as he sees his sister smiling in his mind. He found his way to New Zendar, taking up Dravik Dol Maydra as his new name and remembered the salt mines, where he decided that it was a worthy place to start here, work for many miners, punishment for many slaves, now a beginnings to more atonement for Dravik.
Perhaps Cliche, but should serve. I hope you enjoyed.
Equipment: Siege Crossbow, Knightly Sword, Mail Armor.