Could you replace my bio with this one???
Bel was an orphan from the start of it all he never really knew his parents, all he was told was that they were killed in an accident. Bel Haladrin grew up to be an elf of great standing among his fellows and was also the object of great jealousy for he caught Avarielle the fair, one of the great Elven beauties of the time. Those years were happy years for the couple who lived on the outskirts of an (name unknown) elven community, Bel was one of a number of people who accompanied the ruler of their land to advise him during negotiations, this was the normality for them for about 50 years until, on one such trip a horde of peasants attacked the lands where Bel and Avarielle lived despoiling much of the land burning down the settlement and killing many, before they were repulsed, included in the dead unfortunately was Avarielle. Upon his return Bel saw the desolation that was around him and noticed the dead form of his beloved wife, the effect that this had on him was gradual and Bel could be seen doing his normal duties and carrying his grief for some 10 years, then something finally snapped on the 10th anniversary of the raid and the death of his wife, Bel became Paranoid trusting nothing and no-one and was unsafe to be around as would attack any within sight blaming them for the death of his wife, then almost as suddenly as it had started Bel seemed to calm down once more. The elders of their community then gave to Bel an heirloom of his family that had been previously withheld form him. A great clasp the sort with which a cloak was held, and embossed into the surface was what appeared to be a banshee. Along with this clasp came the weapons his father had used a Long-sword, a Dagger, and a spiked gauntlet. The elders told Bel that his father had been a member of the famous Brotherhood of the Banshee and had been one of the only apprentices to escape form the guilds destruction. With this new information Bel vowed that he would never rest until the leader of the mob that had destroyed his life was vanquished. Bel Trained with the warriors of his settlement for the next year, the warriors did not trust Bel after his violent outburst and their caution was duly rewarded as time and time again Bel would lose his cool and attack with a fury that seemed to be unmatched by all around, when his year of training was over Bel just left suddenly………
and change my stats so they are legal by dropping the strength by one point
A New Bio
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wolven86
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A New Bio
Bel Haladrin - paranoid elven fighter - proud member of The Blades of the Banshee
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average joe
- Posts: 791
- Joined: Sat Jul 28, 2001 10:00 pm
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This is my characters narrative bio. I know this is real long, so if you don't wanna read it...cool. 
But after spending a while writing it, i didn't want it to just sit there.
*******
Pulling his cloak tighter around his torso, Saien McGerney tried to ignore the piercing chill from the icy wind buffeting his body. How he despised this weather. No…the wind only seemed colder if he acknowledged it. He had very much enjoyed the fireplace at the cozy inn where he had last stayed...as well as the pretty serving girl. That had been several days past, and he had since been walking these winter roads alone. He did not feel safe staying in any one place for too long. Solitude did not provide the comfort it once did, but the road always welcomed him back.
With that thought, Saien’s focus shifted back to the road he now walked, and the chill of the air once again sent shivers up his spine. One with a focused mind might find himself in peril soon enough on these roads, and stray thoughts could be the end of you. If he had learned anything from his travels, it had been that focus must be kept at all times in this wild country.
Realizing what had brought his attention back to the surroundings, Saien mumbled a curse. Smoke billowed on the horizon, like a fire out of control. He had seen this all to often, and he quickly voiced a prayer for those involved. In days past, Saien might have steered clear of the scene, but he had a purpose now, and the innocent were deep in the center of that purpose. Hefting his crossbow, he started towards the fire.
Just as he expected, when he neared the source of the fire, which had nearly extinguished itself, he saw the ruins of a small farmhouse and its surrounding storage barns, burnt to the ground. These lands were no longer safe for such habitats, but farmers had to make a living somewhere. He had tread carefully on his way to this location, watching for threats, and he saw none now. What he did see brought a grunt to his throat.
Racing down to the farmhouse, he stopped and knelt at the body of a small girl. Her clothes were a bloody mass, and there was nothing his meager healing skills could do for her. So young…so innocent…perhaps if I had been sooner...all the memories he had fought so hard to bury came flooding back…as did the tears….
Saien had been raised in a country home not much different from the one at which he now was, only it had been deeper in the forest. He had little contact with others outside his family, and his father seemed to think it best. Saien had sometimes helped his father guide travelers through the woods in which his family lived, but their employers had rarely spoken to him, and he knew little of the outside world, except for the few visits he made with his father to the nearby village. His only friend had been Serenla, his younger sister whom he loved dearly. His father, Elian, and mother, Claire, had raised both him and his sister, teaching them what they needed to know. This had all ended one spring day, when Saien’s world was destroyed.
In the midst of morning chores, Saien did not see his father, Elian, until upon him. Elian, with a bewildered look on his face, emerged from the forest, telling Saien to take his mother and sister to safety as fast as he could manage. Knowing trouble was coming, Saien raced into his home, calling for his mother and sister to follow him. However, before they could even reply, the sound of intense battle came from outside…
Chaos ensued in the clearing before him. For the first time in his life, Saien saw his father use the two axes he had always carried for protection. Surrounded by cloaked figures that seemed to blend into the shadows, his father fought with a grace and skill Saien had never dreamed of. Elian was far outnumbered, however, and Saien could see several wounds on his father. Just as he began to rush to his father's side, several of the dark forms began approaching his home. He heard his mother and sister gasp behind him, they having just come from the house. Saien turned towards the oncoming foes and stood his ground, a young boy defending his mother and sister as best he could with his quarterstaff. Quite quickly, though, he was beat down. An unseen force struck him in the head, knocking him to the ground, and as the blackness closed in on his vision, he saw a dark-figure standing over him, blade in striking position. Saien looked into the cowl of the figure's hood, yet he saw no face. In an attempt to shield him, Serenla threw herself at Saien’s attacker, her small form ruthlessly forced away. Saien swooned, and knew no more.
When he awoke, the carnage was too great to believe. Numerous torn cloaks lay strewn about, but it was as if the figures that wore them had disappeared. All that remained of the shadows' black swords were the charred hilts. His father sat quietly nearby, wounds too many to count, barely breathing, beside the motionless bodies of his mother and sister. The tears forming in his eyes, Saien slowly knelt beside his father. He was having trouble focusing, his head throbbing. His father spoke hoarsely, "Saien...must flee...more come."
"Father, who...what were these…creatures?"
"An....ancient evil....you must flee....they will hunt...the banshees...forever..."
"Hunt who? Father, I must go for help!" Completely confused, his head cloudy and his emotions out of control, Saien had no idea what his father spoke of.
"NO!" his father moaned painfully. "Blades of the banshee...search...never stop..." Elian reached out to Saien, and Saien held his father’s hand tenderly. "Never stop, Saien....You are strong....Take our love." His father breathed out, but never drew another breath.
Saien wiped the tears from his eyes, as he had that day long ago holding his father's hands. He looked down at the young child in his arms, pale like his sister. He could not save any of them, and he could not save this young child. But one day he would have the power to do so. He promised himself just as much right then, like he had so many times before.
He had buried his family that day, and left his home behind forever, just as his father had told him. An eleven-year-old boy on his own, with little knowledge of the world he was now thrown into, Saien had made his fair share of bad decisions, and traveled a road his family would never have approved of. With no means of supporting himself, Saien was forced to go against everything he had been taught by his parents, resorting to thievery. Possessing fast hands and sharp eyes, he developed quite a knack for acquiring what he needed to get by, and over the years he became a roundabout scoundrel, frequenting the many taverns of the countryside, moving from village to village. His life as a footpad would one day land him in the kettle, however, when he plied his trade in the city of Soberdan. Angering the powerful thieves' guild with his repeated acts of independent larceny, he was forced to flee into the fold of a small number of traveling clerics, seeking refuge amongst their ranks.
Saien's free spirit, which had developed from his years of travel and trouble, scorned the duty-bound life of the clerics he journeyed with. They often tried to counsel his wayward motives, but he remained distant from them, closing himself off. Eventually, however, Saien came face to face with his inner-self, with the child he had once been. He remembered his family from long ago, his mother who had held him so tenderly, his sister and her never-ending laughter, and his father who had given his life defending Saien's family. The walls Saien had built around that time were torn down, and he embraced his newfound calling in the clergy. His father had been a guide, walking the woods surrounding Saien's childhood home and leading traveler’s to their destinations. Saien too would be a guide. He would help others to find love and peace, things that were taken from him so long ago. And, as his father had protected so many from the dangers of the wood, Saien would protect the innocent from the dangers of Argyle. How he could do this he knew not, for Saien was still young in his years. He felt a calling, though, and he once again took to the road on his own. His free spirit would not be tied down, but his calling would not be ignored.
And questions long forgotten would have answers, for another calling burned inside him. The words "blades of the banshee" were inscribed across his soul, in a fire that would never fade until he knew their meaning. The clerics had been able to tell him that the name had distant meaning--a group of protectors of which little was remembered. Humans like Saien, the clerics thought the elves or dwarves might know of more pertaining to this lore. The answers were out there somewhere, and Saien hoped to find them.
Saien laid the young girl softly on the ground, and once more took in the carnage around him. All this death and destruction…some day he would have the power to save others. He would no longer allow the suffering of the innocent.
But after spending a while writing it, i didn't want it to just sit there.*******
Pulling his cloak tighter around his torso, Saien McGerney tried to ignore the piercing chill from the icy wind buffeting his body. How he despised this weather. No…the wind only seemed colder if he acknowledged it. He had very much enjoyed the fireplace at the cozy inn where he had last stayed...as well as the pretty serving girl. That had been several days past, and he had since been walking these winter roads alone. He did not feel safe staying in any one place for too long. Solitude did not provide the comfort it once did, but the road always welcomed him back.
With that thought, Saien’s focus shifted back to the road he now walked, and the chill of the air once again sent shivers up his spine. One with a focused mind might find himself in peril soon enough on these roads, and stray thoughts could be the end of you. If he had learned anything from his travels, it had been that focus must be kept at all times in this wild country.
Realizing what had brought his attention back to the surroundings, Saien mumbled a curse. Smoke billowed on the horizon, like a fire out of control. He had seen this all to often, and he quickly voiced a prayer for those involved. In days past, Saien might have steered clear of the scene, but he had a purpose now, and the innocent were deep in the center of that purpose. Hefting his crossbow, he started towards the fire.
Just as he expected, when he neared the source of the fire, which had nearly extinguished itself, he saw the ruins of a small farmhouse and its surrounding storage barns, burnt to the ground. These lands were no longer safe for such habitats, but farmers had to make a living somewhere. He had tread carefully on his way to this location, watching for threats, and he saw none now. What he did see brought a grunt to his throat.
Racing down to the farmhouse, he stopped and knelt at the body of a small girl. Her clothes were a bloody mass, and there was nothing his meager healing skills could do for her. So young…so innocent…perhaps if I had been sooner...all the memories he had fought so hard to bury came flooding back…as did the tears….
Saien had been raised in a country home not much different from the one at which he now was, only it had been deeper in the forest. He had little contact with others outside his family, and his father seemed to think it best. Saien had sometimes helped his father guide travelers through the woods in which his family lived, but their employers had rarely spoken to him, and he knew little of the outside world, except for the few visits he made with his father to the nearby village. His only friend had been Serenla, his younger sister whom he loved dearly. His father, Elian, and mother, Claire, had raised both him and his sister, teaching them what they needed to know. This had all ended one spring day, when Saien’s world was destroyed.
In the midst of morning chores, Saien did not see his father, Elian, until upon him. Elian, with a bewildered look on his face, emerged from the forest, telling Saien to take his mother and sister to safety as fast as he could manage. Knowing trouble was coming, Saien raced into his home, calling for his mother and sister to follow him. However, before they could even reply, the sound of intense battle came from outside…
Chaos ensued in the clearing before him. For the first time in his life, Saien saw his father use the two axes he had always carried for protection. Surrounded by cloaked figures that seemed to blend into the shadows, his father fought with a grace and skill Saien had never dreamed of. Elian was far outnumbered, however, and Saien could see several wounds on his father. Just as he began to rush to his father's side, several of the dark forms began approaching his home. He heard his mother and sister gasp behind him, they having just come from the house. Saien turned towards the oncoming foes and stood his ground, a young boy defending his mother and sister as best he could with his quarterstaff. Quite quickly, though, he was beat down. An unseen force struck him in the head, knocking him to the ground, and as the blackness closed in on his vision, he saw a dark-figure standing over him, blade in striking position. Saien looked into the cowl of the figure's hood, yet he saw no face. In an attempt to shield him, Serenla threw herself at Saien’s attacker, her small form ruthlessly forced away. Saien swooned, and knew no more.
When he awoke, the carnage was too great to believe. Numerous torn cloaks lay strewn about, but it was as if the figures that wore them had disappeared. All that remained of the shadows' black swords were the charred hilts. His father sat quietly nearby, wounds too many to count, barely breathing, beside the motionless bodies of his mother and sister. The tears forming in his eyes, Saien slowly knelt beside his father. He was having trouble focusing, his head throbbing. His father spoke hoarsely, "Saien...must flee...more come."
"Father, who...what were these…creatures?"
"An....ancient evil....you must flee....they will hunt...the banshees...forever..."
"Hunt who? Father, I must go for help!" Completely confused, his head cloudy and his emotions out of control, Saien had no idea what his father spoke of.
"NO!" his father moaned painfully. "Blades of the banshee...search...never stop..." Elian reached out to Saien, and Saien held his father’s hand tenderly. "Never stop, Saien....You are strong....Take our love." His father breathed out, but never drew another breath.
Saien wiped the tears from his eyes, as he had that day long ago holding his father's hands. He looked down at the young child in his arms, pale like his sister. He could not save any of them, and he could not save this young child. But one day he would have the power to do so. He promised himself just as much right then, like he had so many times before.
He had buried his family that day, and left his home behind forever, just as his father had told him. An eleven-year-old boy on his own, with little knowledge of the world he was now thrown into, Saien had made his fair share of bad decisions, and traveled a road his family would never have approved of. With no means of supporting himself, Saien was forced to go against everything he had been taught by his parents, resorting to thievery. Possessing fast hands and sharp eyes, he developed quite a knack for acquiring what he needed to get by, and over the years he became a roundabout scoundrel, frequenting the many taverns of the countryside, moving from village to village. His life as a footpad would one day land him in the kettle, however, when he plied his trade in the city of Soberdan. Angering the powerful thieves' guild with his repeated acts of independent larceny, he was forced to flee into the fold of a small number of traveling clerics, seeking refuge amongst their ranks.
Saien's free spirit, which had developed from his years of travel and trouble, scorned the duty-bound life of the clerics he journeyed with. They often tried to counsel his wayward motives, but he remained distant from them, closing himself off. Eventually, however, Saien came face to face with his inner-self, with the child he had once been. He remembered his family from long ago, his mother who had held him so tenderly, his sister and her never-ending laughter, and his father who had given his life defending Saien's family. The walls Saien had built around that time were torn down, and he embraced his newfound calling in the clergy. His father had been a guide, walking the woods surrounding Saien's childhood home and leading traveler’s to their destinations. Saien too would be a guide. He would help others to find love and peace, things that were taken from him so long ago. And, as his father had protected so many from the dangers of the wood, Saien would protect the innocent from the dangers of Argyle. How he could do this he knew not, for Saien was still young in his years. He felt a calling, though, and he once again took to the road on his own. His free spirit would not be tied down, but his calling would not be ignored.
And questions long forgotten would have answers, for another calling burned inside him. The words "blades of the banshee" were inscribed across his soul, in a fire that would never fade until he knew their meaning. The clerics had been able to tell him that the name had distant meaning--a group of protectors of which little was remembered. Humans like Saien, the clerics thought the elves or dwarves might know of more pertaining to this lore. The answers were out there somewhere, and Saien hoped to find them.
Saien laid the young girl softly on the ground, and once more took in the carnage around him. All this death and destruction…some day he would have the power to save others. He would no longer allow the suffering of the innocent.
Totino's party pizzas rock! All a college kid needs to get by....
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average joe
- Posts: 791
- Joined: Sat Jul 28, 2001 10:00 pm
- Location: TX
- Contact:
bump....i've posted a longer version of my bio...yes, that's right. LONGER. I've written a disclaimer at the very beginning, excusing those with a short attention span from attempting the arduous task of reading through my characters history.
Totino's party pizzas rock! All a college kid needs to get by....
Very nice AJ, some of the nicest writing I've seen. You've done well by being cryptic about the Blades, it adds to the scene and makes it fun to play the character...Originally posted by average joe
bump....i've posted a longer version of my bio...yes, that's right. LONGER. I've written a disclaimer at the very beginning, excusing those with a short attention span from attempting the arduous task of reading through my characters history.
Perverteer Paladin
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average joe
- Posts: 791
- Joined: Sat Jul 28, 2001 10:00 pm
- Location: TX
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