Post by Aankin on Feb 22, 2008 22:53:51 GMT -5
Name: Aankin
Weapon of Choice: An octagonal sheet of sharpened metal, attached to a sturdy staff, a curiosity he picked up after reading a rather imaginative story.
Secondary Weapon of Choice: Triangular pieces of sharpened metal, used somewhat like a throwing star.
Magic: None that he (or anyone else, for that matter) knows of.
Strengths: Intellect, creativity.
Weaknesses: Actually putting his ideas to use, needs others to do it for him.
Physical Description: Not quite reaching 6 feet, or rather, not reaching it all, Aankin is rather short. His hair is dark in color and hangs past his ears. His eyes often 'sparkle' with a sort of knowing glint, but this may just be an illusion. His eyes are a deep green, nearing a sort of brown on the edges. He is often seen wearing clothing that would barely pass as acceptable, he prefers to be comfortable and abandons the 'extras' that would normally come on a wealthy person's clothing.
Personality: While a bit of a defeatist, he keeps in himself a small amount of optimism which has kept him going these past years. He sincerely believes (or at least seems to believe in) the good of People in general and this sometimes makes him a bit foolish, too trusting. He prefers to discuss, to debate, rather than fight. His 'skills' with his peculiar weapons are mostly for show and for personal benefit. Often, he finds himself, drawing away from people and back to his world of books and knowledge.
Likes:
Books.
Learning.
His 'weapon', which he has dubbed the 'Stopsin'.
Cats.
Pigs.
Dislikes:
Labor.
Labor (as in childbirth).
Destruction of books.
People.
Dogs.
Stupid people.
Favorite Food: Fried, thinly sliced pork.
Favorite Color: That color the sky gets right before the sun rises/sets in summer.
Favorite HOT AVAREN MODEL: what
Favorite historical 'event': Creation
History: Aankin grew up in a village far away from Avaren and its eternal turmoil. He was raised by his frail mother and wise father, both teaching him 'morals' and 'lessons' and other rubbish he assumed he never really needed to know. He was educated fairly well for the area they lived in (mostly farmers and their families, thus less of an emphasis on learning 'unneeded' things), and had a slightly above-average childhood. A romance here and there, followed by the natural heart-break, the teenage years filled with insecurity and laying around in their cellar. Years passed in this fashion.
Preferring a quiet life in his house in a comfy armchair, daydreaming and reading, he did not do well as a farmer or a soldier. He did train, of course, when he felt like it, but not as much as he probably should have. Instead, he spent his days devouring book after book with his mind, which was a feat indeed because of how rare books seemed to be in his village, and even the tradesmen who visited his village often spoke of how hard it was to get ahold of what he had ordered.
He had a library, yes, and it was his pride and joy. Everything from maps to religious texts, the rare fiction book to the many historical documents, he had read every one of them. He made sure they were dusted daily by his own careful hands, fixing and patching where it was needed.
He studied things when the fancy struck him, and one day, he found within himself a desire to map out his entire family tree as far as possible. This was going to be a challenge, because as far as he knew he had no real living relatives. His parents had both passed away years ago, leaving him with the house and small garden where he grew himself a few types of vegetables.
One fateful day, he found a box full of old, formal looking documents. To his surprise and joy, they were what he was looking for; a box containing virtually all of the 'family history' he needed. Though he was unaware of it, his family had been a semi-noble family, and thus actually had records and the like. True, it was rather naive of him to not know if he was well-off or not, but having never lived in poverty, he assumed this was how everyone could live if they wished.
While tracing his family's history back, he found, to his surprise, a very distant but clear link to the royalty of Avaren. Unable to believe his eyes, he had poured over it for hours. It was not his imagination; he truly had a legitimate link to the throne. It was while he was going over these records that he heard that fateful knock on his door...
Weapon of Choice: An octagonal sheet of sharpened metal, attached to a sturdy staff, a curiosity he picked up after reading a rather imaginative story.
Secondary Weapon of Choice: Triangular pieces of sharpened metal, used somewhat like a throwing star.
Magic: None that he (or anyone else, for that matter) knows of.
Strengths: Intellect, creativity.
Weaknesses: Actually putting his ideas to use, needs others to do it for him.
Physical Description: Not quite reaching 6 feet, or rather, not reaching it all, Aankin is rather short. His hair is dark in color and hangs past his ears. His eyes often 'sparkle' with a sort of knowing glint, but this may just be an illusion. His eyes are a deep green, nearing a sort of brown on the edges. He is often seen wearing clothing that would barely pass as acceptable, he prefers to be comfortable and abandons the 'extras' that would normally come on a wealthy person's clothing.
Personality: While a bit of a defeatist, he keeps in himself a small amount of optimism which has kept him going these past years. He sincerely believes (or at least seems to believe in) the good of People in general and this sometimes makes him a bit foolish, too trusting. He prefers to discuss, to debate, rather than fight. His 'skills' with his peculiar weapons are mostly for show and for personal benefit. Often, he finds himself, drawing away from people and back to his world of books and knowledge.
Likes:
Books.
Learning.
His 'weapon', which he has dubbed the 'Stopsin'.
Cats.
Pigs.
Dislikes:
Labor.
Labor (as in childbirth).
Destruction of books.
People.
Dogs.
Stupid people.
Favorite Food: Fried, thinly sliced pork.
Favorite Color: That color the sky gets right before the sun rises/sets in summer.
Favorite HOT AVAREN MODEL: what
Favorite historical 'event': Creation
History: Aankin grew up in a village far away from Avaren and its eternal turmoil. He was raised by his frail mother and wise father, both teaching him 'morals' and 'lessons' and other rubbish he assumed he never really needed to know. He was educated fairly well for the area they lived in (mostly farmers and their families, thus less of an emphasis on learning 'unneeded' things), and had a slightly above-average childhood. A romance here and there, followed by the natural heart-break, the teenage years filled with insecurity and laying around in their cellar. Years passed in this fashion.
Preferring a quiet life in his house in a comfy armchair, daydreaming and reading, he did not do well as a farmer or a soldier. He did train, of course, when he felt like it, but not as much as he probably should have. Instead, he spent his days devouring book after book with his mind, which was a feat indeed because of how rare books seemed to be in his village, and even the tradesmen who visited his village often spoke of how hard it was to get ahold of what he had ordered.
He had a library, yes, and it was his pride and joy. Everything from maps to religious texts, the rare fiction book to the many historical documents, he had read every one of them. He made sure they were dusted daily by his own careful hands, fixing and patching where it was needed.
He studied things when the fancy struck him, and one day, he found within himself a desire to map out his entire family tree as far as possible. This was going to be a challenge, because as far as he knew he had no real living relatives. His parents had both passed away years ago, leaving him with the house and small garden where he grew himself a few types of vegetables.
One fateful day, he found a box full of old, formal looking documents. To his surprise and joy, they were what he was looking for; a box containing virtually all of the 'family history' he needed. Though he was unaware of it, his family had been a semi-noble family, and thus actually had records and the like. True, it was rather naive of him to not know if he was well-off or not, but having never lived in poverty, he assumed this was how everyone could live if they wished.
While tracing his family's history back, he found, to his surprise, a very distant but clear link to the royalty of Avaren. Unable to believe his eyes, he had poured over it for hours. It was not his imagination; he truly had a legitimate link to the throne. It was while he was going over these records that he heard that fateful knock on his door...