Before I start writing a bio, is it possible to have been denied entry as a child to the companion choices because I was an illegitimate child (or insert reason here) and therefore my existence greatly shames my father who keeps me behind closed doors as a waitress / kitchen hand in his tavern-esque eatery and does not advertise the fact that I am biological child, rather passing me off as an orphan who he was kind enough to give work. My idea would be that instead I bonded to a crow or some kind of common and generally disliked species (most people don't like crows here in Aus because they are so noisy and take rubbish out of bins, but I have always thought they were cool) which I have been secretly feeding kitchen scraps since I was a child for general companionship?
I just thought I might check if this was allowed first, I don't know if it would fit in with how you want to story to go.
Here is mine, it's a little long winded but I got carried away, besides, background makes things more interesting
Name: (was never given a name out of shame of my birth, just referred to as 'girl') -leaving it open for other character's to give my char a nickname if our characters become good friends
Age: 16
Gender: Female
Profession: Waitress / kitchen hand
Physical Description: Average height (approx 160cm) but very scrawny. Very light weight and built more like a child than the typical 16 year old village girls. Messy straight black hair cut short but just long enough to be tied back, pale skin from being kept inside most of the day, dark brown eyes, an obvious sign of my illegitimacy as my parent's eyes were both blue. Outfit is knee length dark brown pants and a dirty off-white shirt that used to belong to my father, many sizes too big, tied on with a basic leather belt. No weapons other than a small pocket knife that is used for general kitchen tasks like opening boxes and crates.
Background/Bio: I was an illegitimate child born out of my mother's rape. My mother suffered heavily from the assault and died during my birth, but upon her death bed, her last request of my (non-biological) father was that I not be blamed for the rape and that my father keep me alive (illegitimate children are often killed after birth in the small village where I was born). My father respected my mother's wish out of his love for her, but blamed my difficult birth for her death, and thus blamed me for taking his wife's life, and treated me with disdain and neglect during my childhood. I was not permitted outside of the family's tavern grounds during the first 8 years of my life, nor into the public dining section or bar, instead doing mindless tasks such as peeling potatoes in the back rooms, and taking the trash out to a pit in a sealed off section outside behind the tavern. Here was my only escape from the monotony of the tavern, I would marvel at the trees that grew over the stone walls and befriend the crows and rats that came to eat from the rubbish pit, always wondering what lay beyond the wall but being too fearful of the consequences to climb it. Having nothing to do during most of my childhood, as well as being illiterate and uneducated, I spent my non-working time mostly observing the crows and because very familiar with their habits and the meaning of their calls. At 8 years old I began serving in the bar section under the close eye of my father, allowed to make polite conversation with the patrons but never for so long that I should learn too much of the outside world.
I put bits and pieces of these conversations together over time, and learned of the companion trials, but, of course, was not allowed to attend, a companion animal would be of no use to the bar and eat precious resources, it was simply out of the question. I sorrowfully mourned this loss of opportunity, sitting out by the rubbish pit one afternoon, and a feeding crow heard my sorrows. I was familiar with all the local crows, as they were familiar with me. This crow was a young downtrodden yearling who had lost his parents to farmers during his fledging years, I had taken special care the previous summer to provide extra food for him once I began to see him appear parent-less and underweight. The crow hopped over to me sitting silently against the wall and looked up at my teary eyes, our eyes met and connected, and I felt warm and everything went white. My own vision faded and I saw through the crows eyes, I saw myself in the corner, dirty and teary, then the trees above me. The crow took flight, for the the first time I saw it rise above the fence and the view beyond the fence from the sky, over trees and farm steads, I saw farmers ploughing and planting, I saw dogs and children playing, and I saw the woods. Then I was alone again. A few minutes later the crow returned. "Caaaw-ra" cawed the crow. "Caaw-ra?" I asked, "Cora?" The crow nodded in a very human-like way. I smiled.
The seed of freedom had been planted. Over the next few nights I snuck out over the back wall while Cora kept watch. Worried about lingering where people were for fear of being seen and reported to my father, I kept mainly to the forest, enjoying freedom for the first time in my life. I became very nimble and agile, and returned to the tavern each day before sunrise for a few hours sleep before the daily grind began again, but for the first time in my life, I had a friend.
Additional Notes: Very quiet and very blunt, not very used to conversation and possessing very few social skills, prefers the company of animals to people, but is a very avid listener to travelers tales, has not yet ever met a trustable human and is very wary of sharing her thoughts or feelings.
Companion Name: Cora
Companion Gender: Male
Companion Type: Crow
Physical Description: Smaller and tattier than usual from losing parents to farmers and experiencing starvation early in life, this stunted growth. Missing a toe on left foot from bullying from more dominant crows in early life.
Additional notes: Loves food. A delicious crust of bread is near fatal distraction sometimes, Cora has had many close calls with farmers stealing food, but is much more stealthy about it than his ill-fated parents.
Pair Abilit(y/ies): Shared sight gained very early on from necessity while sneaking out, and so Cora could explore the world for me while I was locked inside.
Is this ok? Just tell me if there's any parts that don't mesh and I can change them. Also technically, my birth was never registered and so no one really knows I exist other than my father. Tavern-goers do not really pay attention to scrawny waitresses, the ones who asked was told I was an orphan who lived outside the village somewhere.
Name: Viktorya Maximovna Gorbacheva
Title: Journeyman of the White bear.
Age: 26
Gender: Female
Profession:Craftsman
Physical Description: 5'6", 13 stone, Short black hair.Blue eyes. average build but stronger than average upper body and arms. wears thick a thick winter coat made from the hide of A Brown Bear, which includes a hood. underneath she wears Blacksmith overalls. Her atire is well suited for the Cold but poor in Hot and even mild climates. Her face is heat scared but at the same time retains an elegance and woman like beauty. Carries with her a One-handed Warhammer marked with her families crest, it is a symbol of her trade and used while performing her trade.
Background/Bio: She crept past the sleeping giant that was her fathers Brown Bear guarding a large room that was seperate from the cottage. The room of the Smithy was filled with soot and smoke, concealing what lay inside, the loud sounds of hammer hitting Iron rang in her ears. The young Viktorya moved into the room, shielding her face as the Smoke and soot burned her eyes and made them water, bluring her vision, she could hear a man exert strength with loud grunts of effort as the Hammering became louder.
"Papa?" She called into the smoke.
"Ah Viktorya!, so you got past Viktof? the lazy beast" came a warm but gruff voice laughing from the within the soot and smoke, it was hearing this Gruff voice that made her feel safe "So you've escaped your mother once more?"
"Y-yes Papa" She stammered as the soot began to clear revealing a large than life figure, bending over an anvil, red hot iron sat upon it.
"Come come, your two sisters can be her princesses, i have something more important to show you" he said beckoning her towards him, his face not looking away from the anvil.
As Viktorya aproached the Anvil the flames became hotter and hotter, it was almost unbarable, any retreat was cut off when her father brought his hand around behind her back and pushed her towards the anvil beside him.
"Do you see this Iron?" He said as Viktorya nodded, he continued to hammer it, the loud bangs rang in her ears, he stopped between the mighty hammer blows to speak "alone it is worthless, but with the right touch it becomes an artform that goes beyond those mere drawings your mother adores" He hammered again "It is like making a statue out of clay,Ageless creations that reflect might and power, great care must be taken, so much can go wrong, an imperfect blade is useless" He hammered another blow into the Red-hot iron, admiring his handy work he bought up a metal stamp that bore their families crest, and placed it upon the Iron as it sizzled "quickly Viktorya" He commanded "grab the hammer"
She picked up a hammer from a wide selection of tools, though it was small it was extremely heavy for her. "Good, now finish this work of art!" She raised the hammer, her face red from the effort and the searing heat, she brought it down upon the metal stamp her father held, the weight of the Hammer doing most of the work. "Good, good!" He cried as he picked up the newely forged sword with a pair of tongs and lowered it into cold water, it sizzled as hot steam began to rise, he beckoned Viktorya over.
"as much as a man can be trained, as much as a man can be skilled, it is not he, but the sword that kills his enimies, forged from Iron in lowly forges, wielded by Kings and Tyrants,no man is as strong as the quality of their weapon, no weapon as strong as the quality of the blacksmith whom forged it, no blacksmith is as skilled as me, nor will i be as skilled as you shall be"
When she turned 12 she set out north, her mother cried, asking why she had to go to such a dangerous Habitat. Her father just nodded at her in understanding, Victof the Brown bear beside him as he handed her a small leather hide pack, Confidence and worry for his daughter etchd into his face.
As she journeyed through the frozen wastelands she came across many creatures, Seals and whales to name but a few, she ate upon caught fish as she carried on through the dessert of snow. A blizzard had kicked up as she marched onwards, unsure of where she was even going, in the corner of her eyes she could see a shadow that would disappear when she turned, was death stalking her final moments?. She collased upon the cold snowy ground, having taveled several KM into the frozen wastes, the words of her father echoed in her ears "A Bear must chose you as well as you chosing it, you must prove yourself worthy" tears ran down her face and froze, she had failed herself and her father.
As she felt death close in the shadowy figure of death cast itsself over her, blocking out the sun, as she looked up she could see its dark black eyes and nose, the rest of it seemed to be non-existant, it grabed her within its powerful jaws as it lifted her up her petrified face starring deep into a chest of white fur, she blacked out afterwards.
She awoke in some form of tunnel or cave, within the snow itself, her body warm against the large mass of white fur that filled up the entire space, she began to cry softly as she huddled up next to the great bear, she had found her companion. "Ursa.." She muttered as she drifted off to sleep.
.
Additional Notes:
Viktorya is a skilled blacksmith and considers it an artform, she actively looks for ways to improve her trade, through the minds of other great Forgers, practicing her trade, and searching for new materials to forge great works from.
Her clothes are well suited for the Cold but in hot or mild climates she can suffer from heat exhaustion.
Well adapted for the frozen wastes and survival within them.
Companion Name: Ursa Major
Companion Gender: Male
Companion Type: Polar bear
Physical Description:
Has a small scar under its left eye
Additional Notes: [Personality, quirks...] Vikorya feels the relationship between her and her companion is that of a Brother-Sister relationship because he is highly protective of Viktorya, this makes him hard to take on journeys into cities as he has a hard time figuring out the actions of other humans such as an attack and a cough being one in the same when near Viktorya and will use his loud roar, 8.4 feet height and 2,210 pound frame to great effect.
His personality is like his body movement, Big, Dumb slow and easily confused and tricked. He shows great affection towards his Companion (Whom provides the brains) and merely notices his companion's companions existance, a contrast between Viktorya whom is warm and friendly to others outside of their special circle and one should always tread carefully around a jealous bear. His black eyes are also an important part of him as looking into them tells more about his feelings at that present than talk ever could
He is often use as a packmule because of his large size, often carrying various supplies and equipment over vast distances with relative ease, and often lets Viktorya ride upon his back providing she doesn't jab her feet into his ribs and tell him to "Giddy-Up" like somekind of Common Horse and not a Mighty Bear, the outcome often ending in a play-fight
a strange hatred of squirrels also drives this behemoth into a fury, the reason is unknown to even Viktorya, whatever the reason, Grey squirrel, Red squirrel, it matters not, the only good squirrel is a squirrel crushed under the paws of Ursa.
Ursa also has a love of Statues, Trees, Seal meat, snow and pillows
Pair Abilit(y/ies): Both share Slumber while only the bear has Brute Force.
Here is mine, it's a little long winded but I got carried away, besides, background makes things more interesting
Name: (was never given a name out of shame of my birth, just referred to as 'girl')
Age: 16
Gender: Female
Profession: Waitress / kitchen hand
Physical Description: Average height but very scrawny. Very light weight and built more like a child than the typical 16 year old village girls. Messy straight black hair cut short but just long enough to be tied back, pale skin from being kept inside most of the day, dark brown eyes, an obvious sign of my illegitimacy as my parent's eyes were both blue. Outfit is knee length dark brown pants and a dirty off-white shirt that used to belong to my father, many sizes too big, tied on with a basic leather belt. No weapons other than a small pocket knife that is used for general kitchen tasks like opening boxes and crates.
Background/Bio: Was an illegitimate child born out of my mother's rape. My mother suffered heavily from the assault and died during my birth, but upon her death bed, her last request of my (non-biological) father was that I not be blamed for the rape and that my father keep me alive (illegitimate children are often killed after birth in the small village where I was born). My father respected my mother's wish out of his love for her, but blamed my difficult birth for her death, and thus blamed me for taking his wife's life, and treated me with disdain and neglect during my childhood. I was not permitted outside of the family's tavern grounds during the first 8 years of my life, nor into the public dining section or bar, instead doing mindless tasks such as peeling potatoes in the back rooms, and taking the trash out to a pit in a sealed off section outside behind the tavern. Here was my only escape from the monotony of the tavern, I would marvel at the trees that grew over the stone walls and befriend the crows and rats that came to eat from the rubbish pit, always wondering what lay beyond the wall but being too fearful of the consequences to climb it. Having nothing to do during most of my childhood, as well as being illiterate and uneducated, I spent my non-working time mostly observing the crows and because very familiar with their habits and the meaning of their calls. At 8 years old I began serving in the bar section under the close eye of my father, allowed to make polite conversation with the patrons but never for so long that I should learn too much of the outside world.
I put bits and pieces of these conversations together over time, and learned of the companion trials, but, of course, was not allowed to attend, a companion animal would be of no use to the bar and eat precious resources, it was simply out of the question. I sorrowfully mourned this loss of opportunity, sitting out by the rubbish pit one afternoon, and a feeding crow heard my sorrows. I was familiar with all the local crows, as they were familiar with me. This crow was a young downtrodden yearling who had lost his parents to farmers during his fledging years, I had taken special care the previous summer to provide extra food for him once I began to see him appear parent-less and underweight. The crow hopped over to me sitting silently against the wall and looked up at my teary eyes, our eyes met and connected, and I felt warm and everything went white. My own vision faded and I saw through the crows eyes, I saw myself in the corner, dirty and teary, then the trees above me. The crow took flight, for the the first time I saw it rise above the fence and the view beyond the fence from the sky, over trees and farm steads, I saw farmers ploughing and planting, I saw dogs and children playing, and I saw the woods. Then I was alone again. A few minutes later the crow returned. "Caaaw-ra" cawed the crow. "Caaw-ra?" I asked, "Cora?" The crow nodded in a very human-like way. I smiled.
The seed of freedom had been planted. Over the next few nights I snuck out over the back wall while Cora kept watch. Worried about lingering where people were for fear of being seen and reported to my father, I kept mainly to the forest, enjoying freedom for the first time in my life. I became very nimble and agile, and returned to the tavern each day before sunrise for a few hours sleep before the daily grind began again, but for the first time in my life, I had a friend.
Additional Notes: Very few other than sneaking away and cutting vegetables.
Companion Name: Cora
Companion Gender: Male
Companion Type: Crow
Physical Description: Smaller and tattier than usual from losing parents to farmers and experiencing starvation early in life, this stunted growth. Missing a toe on left foot from bullying from more dominant crows in early life.
Additional Notes: Very quiet and very blunt, not very used to conversation and possessing very few social skills, prefers the company of animals to people, but is a very avid listener to travelers tales, has not yet ever met a trustable human and is very wary of sharing her thoughts or feelings.
Pair Abilit(y/ies): Speed and camouflage from sneaking out. Shared sight gained very early on from necessity while sneaking out, and so Cora could explore the world for me while I was locked inside.
Is this ok? Just tell me if there's any parts that don't mesh and I can change them. Also technically, my birth was never registered and so no one really knows I exist other than my father. Tavern-goers do not really pay attention to scrawny waitresses, the ones who asked was told I was an orphan who lived outside the village somewhere.
Name: Viktorya Maximovna Gorbacheva
Title: Champion of the White bear.
Age: 33
Gender: Female
Profession:Carpenter/Craftsman/dentist
Physical Description: 5'6", 13 stone, Short black hair.Blue eyes. average build but stronger than average upper body and arms. wears thick a thick winter coat made from the hide of A Brown Bear, which includes a hood. underneath she wears Blacksmith overalls. Her atire is well suited for the Cold but poor in Hot and even mild climates. Her face is heat scared but at the same time retains an elegance and woman like beauty. Carries with her a One-handed Warhammer marked with her families crest, it is a symbol of her trade and used while performing her trade.
Background/Bio: She crept past the sleeping giant that was her fathers Brown Bear guarding a large room that was seperate from the cottage. The room of the Smithy was filled with soot and smoke, concealing what lay inside, the loud sounds of hammer hitting Iron rang in her ears. The young Viktorya moved into the room, shielding her face as the Smoke and soot burned her eyes and made them water, bluring her vision, she could hear a man exert strength with loud grunts of effort as the Hammering became louder.
"Papa?" She called into the smoke.
"Ah Viktorya!, so you got past Viktof? the lazy beast" came a warm but gruff voice laughing from the within the soot and smoke, it was hearing this Gruff voice that made her feel safe "So you've escaped your mother once more?"
"Y-yes Papa" She stammered as the soot began to clear revealing a large than life figure, bending over an anvil, red hot iron sat upon it.
"Come come, your two sisters can be her princesses, i have something more important to show you" he said beckoning her towards him, his face not looking away from the anvil.
As Viktorya aproached the Anvil the flames became hotter and hotter, it was almost unbarable, any retreat was cut off when her father brought his hand around behind her back and pushed her towards the anvil beside him.
"Do you see this Iron?" He said as Viktorya nodded, he continued to hammer it, the loud bangs rang in her ears, he stopped between the mighty hammer blows to speak "alone it is worthless, but with the right touch it becomes an artform that goes beyond those mere drawings your mother adores" He hammered again "It is like making a statue out of clay,Ageless creations that reflect might and power, great care must be taken, so much can go wrong, an imperfect blade is useless" He hammered another blow into the Red-hot iron, admiring his handy work he bought up a metal stamp that bore their families crest, and placed it upon the Iron as it sizzled "quickly Viktorya" He commanded "grab the hammer"
She picked up a hammer from a wide selection of tools, though it was small it was extremely heavy for her. "Good, now finish this work of art!" She raised the hammer, her face red from the effort and the searing heat, she brought it down upon the metal stamp her father held, the weight of the Hammer doing most of the work. "Good, good!" He cried as he picked up the newely forged sword with a pair of tongs and lowered it into cold water, it sizzled as hot steam began to rise, he beckoned Viktorya over.
"as much as a man can be trained, as much as a man can be skilled, it is not he, but the sword that kills his enimies, forged from Iron in lowly forges, wielded by Kings and Tyrants,no man is as strong as the quality of their weapon, no weapon as strong as the quality of the blacksmith whom forged it, no blacksmith is as skilled as me, nor will i be as skilled as you shall be"
When she turned 12 she set out north, her mother cried, asking why she had to go to such a dangerous Habitat. Her father just nodded at her in understanding, Victof the Brown bear beside him as he handed her a small leather hide pack, Confidence and worry for his daughter etchd into his face.
As she journeyed through the frozen wastelands she came across many creatures, Seals and whales to name but a few, she ate upon caught fish as she carried on through the dessert of snow. A blizzard had kicked up as she marched onwards, unsure of where she was even going, in the corner of her eyes she could see a shadow that would disappear when she turned, was death stalking her final moments?. She collased upon the cold snowy ground, having taveled several KM into the frozen wastes, the words of her father echoed in her ears "A Bear must chose you as well as you chosing it, you must prove yourself worthy" tears ran down her face and froze, she had failed herself and her father.
As she felt death close in the shadowy figure of death cast itsself over her, blocking out the sun, as she looked up she could see its dark black eyes and nose, the rest of it seemed to be non-existant, it grabed her within its powerful jaws as it lifted her up her petrified face starring deep into a chest of white fur, she blacked out afterwards.
She awoke in some form of tunnel or cave, within the snow itself, her body warm against the large mass of white fur that filled up the entire space, she began to cry softly as she huddled up next to the great bear, she had found her companion. "Ursa.." She muttered as she drifted off to sleep.
.
Additional Notes:
Viktorya is a skilled blacksmith and considers it an artform, she actively looks for ways to improve her trade, through the minds of other great Forgers, practicing her trade, and searching for new materials to forge great works from.
Her clothes are well suited for the Cold but in hot or mild climates she can suffer from heat exhaustion.
Well adapted for the frozen wastes and survival within them.
Companion Name: Ursa Major
Companion Gender: Male
Companion Type: Polar bear
Physical Description:
Has a small scar under its left eye
Additional Notes: [Personality, quirks...] Ursa feels the relationship between he and his companion is that of a Brother-Sister relationship, and is highly protective of Viktorya, this makes him hard to take on journeys into cities as he has a hard time figuring out the actions of other humans such as an attack and a cough being one in the same when near Viktorya and will use his loud roar, 8.4 feet height and 2,210 pound frame to great effect.
His personality is like his body movement, Big, Dumb slow and easily confused and tricked. He shows great affection towards his Companion (Whom provides the brains) and merely notices his companion's companions existance, a contrast between Viktorya whom is warm and friendly to others outside of their special circle and one should always tread carefully around a jealous bear. His black eyes are also an important part of him as looking into them tells more about his feelings at that present than talk ever could
He is often use as a packmule because of his large size, often carrying various supplies and equipment over vast distances with relative ease, and often lets Viktorya ride upon his back providing she doesn't jab her feet into his ribs and tell him to "Giddy-Up" like somekind of Common Horse and not a Mighty Bear, the outcome often ending in a play-fight
a strange hatred of squirrels also drives this behemoth into a fury, the reason is unknown to even Viktorya, whatever the reason, Grey squirrel, Red squirrel, it matters not, the only good squirrel is a squirrel crushed under the paws of Ursa.
Ursa also has a love of Statues, Trees, Seal meat, snow and pillows
Pair Abilit(y/ies): Both share Slumber and Endurance while only the bear has Brute Force.
Here is mine, it's a little long winded but I got carried away, besides, background makes things more interesting
Name: (was never given a name out of shame of my birth, just referred to as 'girl')
Age: 16
Gender: Female
Profession: Waitress / kitchen hand
Physical Description: Average height but very scrawny. Very light weight and built more like a child than the typical 16 year old village girls. Messy straight black hair cut short but just long enough to be tied back, pale skin from being kept inside most of the day, dark brown eyes, an obvious sign of my illegitimacy as my parent's eyes were both blue. Outfit is knee length dark brown pants and a dirty off-white shirt that used to belong to my father, many sizes too big, tied on with a basic leather belt. No weapons other than a small pocket knife that is used for general kitchen tasks like opening boxes and crates.
Background/Bio: Was an illegitimate child born out of my mother's rape. My mother suffered heavily from the assault and died during my birth, but upon her death bed, her last request of my (non-biological) father was that I not be blamed for the rape and that my father keep me alive (illegitimate children are often killed after birth in the small village where I was born). My father respected my mother's wish out of his love for her, but blamed my difficult birth for her death, and thus blamed me for taking his wife's life, and treated me with disdain and neglect during my childhood. I was not permitted outside of the family's tavern grounds during the first 8 years of my life, nor into the public dining section or bar, instead doing mindless tasks such as peeling potatoes in the back rooms, and taking the trash out to a pit in a sealed off section outside behind the tavern. Here was my only escape from the monotony of the tavern, I would marvel at the trees that grew over the stone walls and befriend the crows and rats that came to eat from the rubbish pit, always wondering what lay beyond the wall but being too fearful of the consequences to climb it. Having nothing to do during most of my childhood, as well as being illiterate and uneducated, I spent my non-working time mostly observing the crows and because very familiar with their habits and the meaning of their calls. At 8 years old I began serving in the bar section under the close eye of my father, allowed to make polite conversation with the patrons but never for so long that I should learn too much of the outside world.
I put bits and pieces of these conversations together over time, and learned of the companion trials, but, of course, was not allowed to attend, a companion animal would be of no use to the bar and eat precious resources, it was simply out of the question. I sorrowfully mourned this loss of opportunity, sitting out by the rubbish pit one afternoon, and a feeding crow heard my sorrows. I was familiar with all the local crows, as they were familiar with me. This crow was a young downtrodden yearling who had lost his parents to farmers during his fledging years, I had taken special care the previous summer to provide extra food for him once I began to see him appear parent-less and underweight. The crow hopped over to me sitting silently against the wall and looked up at my teary eyes, our eyes met and connected, and I felt warm and everything went white. My own vision faded and I saw through the crows eyes, I saw myself in the corner, dirty and teary, then the trees above me. The crow took flight, for the the first time I saw it rise above the fence and the view beyond the fence from the sky, over trees and farm steads, I saw farmers ploughing and planting, I saw dogs and children playing, and I saw the woods. Then I was alone again. A few minutes later the crow returned. "Caaaw-ra" cawed the crow. "Caaw-ra?" I asked, "Cora?" The crow nodded in a very human-like way. I smiled.
The seed of freedom had been planted. Over the next few nights I snuck out over the back wall while Cora kept watch. Worried about lingering where people were for fear of being seen and reported to my father, I kept mainly to the forest, enjoying freedom for the first time in my life. I became very nimble and agile, and returned to the tavern each day before sunrise for a few hours sleep before the daily grind began again, but for the first time in my life, I had a friend.
Additional Notes: Very few other than sneaking away and cutting vegetables.
Companion Name: Cora
Companion Gender: Male
Companion Type: Crow
Physical Description: Smaller and tattier than usual from losing parents to farmers and experiencing starvation early in life, this stunted growth. Missing a toe on left foot from bullying from more dominant crows in early life.
Additional Notes: Very quiet and very blunt, not very used to conversation and possessing very few social skills, prefers the company of animals to people, but is a very avid listener to travelers tales, has not yet ever met a trustable human and is very wary of sharing her thoughts or feelings.
Pair Abilit(y/ies): Speed and camouflage from sneaking out. Shared sight gained very early on from necessity while sneaking out, and so Cora could explore the world for me while I was locked inside.
Is this ok? Just tell me if there's any parts that don't mesh and I can change them. Also technically, my birth was never registered and so no one really knows I exist other than my father. Tavern-goers do not really pay attention to scrawny waitresses, the ones who asked was told I was an orphan who lived outside the village somewhere.
Name: Viktorya Maximovna Gorbacheva
Title: Champion of the White bear.
Age: 33
Gender: Female
Profession:Carpenter/Craftsman/dentist
Physical Description: 5'6", 13 stone, Short black hair.Blue eyes. average build but stronger than average upper body and arms. wears thick a thick winter coat made from the hide of A Brown Bear, which includes a hood. underneath she wears Blacksmith overalls. Her atire is well suited for the Cold but poor in Hot and even mild climates. Her face is heat scared but at the same time retains an elegance and woman like beauty. Carries with her a One-handed Warhammer marked with her families crest, it is a symbol of her trade and used while performing her trade.
Background/Bio: She crept past the sleeping giant that was her fathers Brown Bear guarding a large room that was seperate from the cottage. The room of the Smithy was filled with soot and smoke, concealing what lay inside, the loud sounds of hammer hitting Iron rang in her ears. The young Viktorya moved into the room, shielding her face as the Smoke and soot burned her eyes and made them water, bluring her vision, she could hear a man exert strength with loud grunts of effort as the Hammering became louder.
"Papa?" She called into the smoke.
"Ah Viktorya!, so you got past Viktof? the lazy beast" came a warm but gruff voice laughing from the within the soot and smoke, it was hearing this Gruff voice that made her feel safe "So you've escaped your mother once more?"
"Y-yes Papa" She stammered as the soot began to clear revealing a large than life figure, bending over an anvil, red hot iron sat upon it.
"Come come, your two sisters can be her princesses, i have something more important to show you" he said beckoning her towards him, his face not looking away from the anvil.
As Viktorya aproached the Anvil the flames became hotter and hotter, it was almost unbarable, any retreat was cut off when her father brought his hand around behind her back and pushed her towards the anvil beside him.
"Do you see this Iron?" He said as Viktorya nodded, he continued to hammer it, the loud bangs rang in her ears, he stopped between the mighty hammer blows to speak "alone it is worthless, but with the right touch it becomes an artform that goes beyond those mere drawings your mother adores" He hammered again "It is like making a statue out of clay,Ageless creations that reflect might and power, great care must be taken, so much can go wrong, an imperfect blade is useless" He hammered another blow into the Red-hot iron, admiring his handy work he bought up a metal stamp that bore their families crest, and placed it upon the Iron as it sizzled "quickly Viktorya" He commanded "grab the hammer"
She picked up a hammer from a wide selection of tools, though it was small it was extremely heavy for her. "Good, now finish this work of art!" She raised the hammer, her face red from the effort and the searing heat, she brought it down upon the metal stamp her father held, the weight of the Hammer doing most of the work. "Good, good!" He cried as he picked up the newely forged sword with a pair of tongs and lowered it into cold water, it sizzled as hot steam began to rise, he beckoned Viktorya over.
"as much as a man can be trained, as much as a man can be skilled, it is not he, but the sword that kills his enimies, forged from Iron in lowly forges, wielded by Kings and Tyrants,no man is as strong as the quality of their weapon, no weapon as strong as the quality of the blacksmith whom forged it, no blacksmith is as skilled as me, nor will i be as skilled as you shall be"
When she turned 12 she set out north, her mother cried, asking why she had to go to such a dangerous Habitat. Her father just nodded at her in understanding, Victof the Brown bear beside him as he handed her a small leather hide pack, Confidence and worry for his daughter etchd into his face.
As she journeyed through the frozen wastelands she came across many creatures, Seals and whales to name but a few, she ate upon caught fish as she carried on through the dessert of snow. A blizzard had kicked up as she marched onwards, unsure of where she was even going, in the corner of her eyes she could see a shadow that would disappear when she turned, was death stalking her final moments?. She collased upon the cold snowy ground, having taveled several KM into the frozen wastes, the words of her father echoed in her ears "A Bear must chose you as well as you chosing it, you must prove yourself worthy" tears ran down her face and froze, she had failed herself and her father.
As she felt death close in the shadowy figure of death cast itsself over her, blocking out the sun, as she looked up she could see its dark black eyes and nose, the rest of it seemed to be non-existant, it grabed her within its powerful jaws as it lifted her up her petrified face starring deep into a chest of white fur, she blacked out afterwards.
She awoke in some form of tunnel or cave, within the snow itself, her body warm against the large mass of white fur that filled up the entire space, she began to cry softly as she huddled up next to the great bear, she had found her companion. "Ursa.." She muttered as she drifted off to sleep.
.
Additional Notes:
Viktorya is a skilled blacksmith and considers it an artform, she actively looks for ways to improve her trade, through the minds of other great Forgers, practicing her trade, and searching for new materials to forge great works from.
Her clothes are well suited for the Cold but in hot or mild climates she can suffer from heat exhaustion.
Well adapted for the frozen wastes and survival within them.
Companion Name: Ursa Major
Companion Gender: Male
Companion Type: Polar bear
Physical Description:
Has a small scar under its left eye
Additional Notes: [Personality, quirks...] Ursa feels the relationship between he and his companion is that of a Brother-Sister relationship, and is highly protective of Viktorya, this makes him hard to take on journeys into cities as he has a hard time figuring out the actions of other humans such as an attack and a cough being one in the same when near Viktorya and will use his loud roar, 8.4 feet height and 2,210 pound frame to great effect.
His personality is like his body movement, Big, Dumb slow and easily confused and tricked. He shows great affection towards his Companion (Whom provides the brains) and merely notices his companion's companions existance, a contrast between Viktorya whom is warm and friendly to others outside of their special circle and one should always tread carefully around a jealous bear. His black eyes are also an important part of him as looking into them tells more about his feelings at that present than talk ever could
He is often use as a packmule because of his large size, often carrying various supplies and equipment over vast distances with relative ease, and often lets Viktorya ride upon his back providing she doesn't jab her feet into his ribs and tell him to "Giddy-Up" like somekind of Common Horse and not a Mighty Bear, the outcome often ending in a play-fight
a strange hatred of squirrels also drives this behemoth into a fury, the reason is unknown to even Viktorya, whatever the reason, Grey squirrel, Red squirrel, it matters not, the only good squirrel is a squirrel crushed under the paws of Ursa.
Ursa also has a love of Statues, Trees, Seal meat, snow and pillows
Pair Abilit(y/ies): Both share Slumber and Endurance while only the bear has Brute Force.
My Characters shall develop traits of something out of pure nothing if needs be! xD
The bear..a little development could be done, but i felt i left enough about the girl unknown, meh, we shall see how this rolls
SOMEONE CALL THE MAN A DOCTOR!
Live damn you!..
Seriously guys..Cant feel my Fingers..i think there just bony stumps now..im afraid to look
EDIT: you think i could use this Bio like the Allies used "The Worlds Funniest Joke" aginst the Germans in monty python?
Here is mine, it's a little long winded but I got carried away, besides, background makes things more interesting
Name: (was never given a name out of shame of my birth, just referred to as 'girl')
Age: 16
Gender: Female
Profession: Waitress / kitchen hand
Physical Description: Average height but very scrawny. Very light weight and built more like a child than the typical 16 year old village girls. Messy straight black hair cut short but just long enough to be tied back, pale skin from being kept inside most of the day, dark brown eyes, an obvious sign of my illegitimacy as my parent's eyes were both blue. Outfit is knee length dark brown pants and a dirty off-white shirt that used to belong to my father, many sizes too big, tied on with a basic leather belt. No weapons other than a small pocket knife that is used for general kitchen tasks like opening boxes and crates.
Background/Bio: Was an illegitimate child born out of my mother's rape. My mother suffered heavily from the assault and died during my birth, but upon her death bed, her last request of my (non-biological) father was that I not be blamed for the rape and that my father keep me alive (illegitimate children are often killed after birth in the small village where I was born). My father respected my mother's wish out of his love for her, but blamed my difficult birth for her death, and thus blamed me for taking his wife's life, and treated me with disdain and neglect during my childhood. I was not permitted outside of the family's tavern grounds during the first 8 years of my life, nor into the public dining section or bar, instead doing mindless tasks such as peeling potatoes in the back rooms, and taking the trash out to a pit in a sealed off section outside behind the tavern. Here was my only escape from the monotony of the tavern, I would marvel at the trees that grew over the stone walls and befriend the crows and rats that came to eat from the rubbish pit, always wondering what lay beyond the wall but being too fearful of the consequences to climb it. Having nothing to do during most of my childhood, as well as being illiterate and uneducated, I spent my non-working time mostly observing the crows and because very familiar with their habits and the meaning of their calls. At 8 years old I began serving in the bar section under the close eye of my father, allowed to make polite conversation with the patrons but never for so long that I should learn too much of the outside world.
I put bits and pieces of these conversations together over time, and learned of the companion trials, but, of course, was not allowed to attend, a companion animal would be of no use to the bar and eat precious resources, it was simply out of the question. I sorrowfully mourned this loss of opportunity, sitting out by the rubbish pit one afternoon, and a feeding crow heard my sorrows. I was familiar with all the local crows, as they were familiar with me. This crow was a young downtrodden yearling who had lost his parents to farmers during his fledging years, I had taken special care the previous summer to provide extra food for him once I began to see him appear parent-less and underweight. The crow hopped over to me sitting silently against the wall and looked up at my teary eyes, our eyes met and connected, and I felt warm and everything went white. My own vision faded and I saw through the crows eyes, I saw myself in the corner, dirty and teary, then the trees above me. The crow took flight, for the the first time I saw it rise above the fence and the view beyond the fence from the sky, over trees and farm steads, I saw farmers ploughing and planting, I saw dogs and children playing, and I saw the woods. Then I was alone again. A few minutes later the crow returned. "Caaaw-ra" cawed the crow. "Caaw-ra?" I asked, "Cora?" The crow nodded in a very human-like way. I smiled.
The seed of freedom had been planted. Over the next few nights I snuck out over the back wall while Cora kept watch. Worried about lingering where people were for fear of being seen and reported to my father, I kept mainly to the forest, enjoying freedom for the first time in my life. I became very nimble and agile, and returned to the tavern each day before sunrise for a few hours sleep before the daily grind began again, but for the first time in my life, I had a friend.
Additional Notes: Very few other than sneaking away and cutting vegetables.
Companion Name: Cora
Companion Gender: Male
Companion Type: Crow
Physical Description: Smaller and tattier than usual from losing parents to farmers and experiencing starvation early in life, this stunted growth. Missing a toe on left foot from bullying from more dominant crows in early life.
Additional Notes: Very quiet and very blunt, not very used to conversation and possessing very few social skills, prefers the company of animals to people, but is a very avid listener to travelers tales, has not yet ever met a trustable human and is very wary of sharing her thoughts or feelings.
Pair Abilit(y/ies): Speed and camouflage from sneaking out. Shared sight gained very early on from necessity while sneaking out, and so Cora could explore the world for me while I was locked inside.
Is this ok? Just tell me if there's any parts that don't mesh and I can change them. Also technically, my birth was never registered and so no one really knows I exist other than my father. Tavern-goers do not really pay attention to scrawny waitresses, the ones who asked was told I was an orphan who lived outside the village somewhere.
Name: Viktorya Maximovna Gorbacheva
Title: Champion of the White bear.
Age: 33
Gender: Female
Profession:Carpenter/Craftsman/dentist
Physical Description: 5'6", 13 stone, Short black hair.Blue eyes. average build but stronger than average upper body and arms. wears thick a thick winter coat made from the hide of A Brown Bear, which includes a hood. underneath she wears Blacksmith overalls. Her atire is well suited for the Cold but poor in Hot and even mild climates. Her face is heat scared but at the same time retains an elegance and woman like beauty. Carries with her a One-handed Warhammer marked with her families crest, it is a symbol of her trade and used while performing her trade.
Background/Bio: She crept past the sleeping giant that was her fathers Brown Bear guarding a large room that was seperate from the cottage. The room of the Smithy was filled with soot and smoke, concealing what lay inside, the loud sounds of hammer hitting Iron rang in her ears. The young Viktorya moved into the room, shielding her face as the Smoke and soot burned her eyes and made them water, bluring her vision, she could hear a man exert strength with loud grunts of effort as the Hammering became louder.
"Papa?" She called into the smoke.
"Ah Viktorya!, so you got past Viktof? the lazy beast" came a warm but gruff voice laughing from the within the soot and smoke, it was hearing this Gruff voice that made her feel safe "So you've escaped your mother once more?"
"Y-yes Papa" She stammered as the soot began to clear revealing a large than life figure, bending over an anvil, red hot iron sat upon it.
"Come come, your two sisters can be her princesses, i have something more important to show you" he said beckoning her towards him, his face not looking away from the anvil.
As Viktorya aproached the Anvil the flames became hotter and hotter, it was almost unbarable, any retreat was cut off when her father brought his hand around behind her back and pushed her towards the anvil beside him.
"Do you see this Iron?" He said as Viktorya nodded, he continued to hammer it, the loud bangs rang in her ears, he stopped between the mighty hammer blows to speak "alone it is worthless, but with the right touch it becomes an artform that goes beyond those mere drawings your mother adores" He hammered again "It is like making a statue out of clay,Ageless creations that reflect might and power, great care must be taken, so much can go wrong, an imperfect blade is useless" He hammered another blow into the Red-hot iron, admiring his handy work he bought up a metal stamp that bore their families crest, and placed it upon the Iron as it sizzled "quickly Viktorya" He commanded "grab the hammer"
She picked up a hammer from a wide selection of tools, though it was small it was extremely heavy for her. "Good, now finish this work of art!" She raised the hammer, her face red from the effort and the searing heat, she brought it down upon the metal stamp her father held, the weight of the Hammer doing most of the work. "Good, good!" He cried as he picked up the newely forged sword with a pair of tongs and lowered it into cold water, it sizzled as hot steam began to rise, he beckoned Viktorya over.
"as much as a man can be trained, as much as a man can be skilled, it is not he, but the sword that kills his enimies, forged from Iron in lowly forges, wielded by Kings and Tyrants,no man is as strong as the quality of their weapon, no weapon as strong as the quality of the blacksmith whom forged it, no blacksmith is as skilled as me, nor will i be as skilled as you shall be"
When she turned 12 she set out north, her mother cried, asking why she had to go to such a dangerous Habitat. Her father just nodded at her in understanding, Victof the Brown bear beside him as he handed her a small leather hide pack, Confidence and worry for his daughter etchd into his face.
As she journeyed through the frozen wastelands she came across many creatures, Seals and whales to name but a few, she ate upon caught fish as she carried on through the dessert of snow. A blizzard had kicked up as she marched onwards, unsure of where she was even going, in the corner of her eyes she could see a shadow that would disappear when she turned, was death stalking her final moments?. She collased upon the cold snowy ground, having taveled several KM into the frozen wastes, the words of her father echoed in her ears "A Bear must chose you as well as you chosing it, you must prove yourself worthy" tears ran down her face and froze, she had failed herself and her father.
As she felt death close in the shadowy figure of death cast itsself over her, blocking out the sun, as she looked up she could see its dark black eyes and nose, the rest of it seemed to be non-existant, it grabed her within its powerful jaws as it lifted her up her petrified face starring deep into a chest of white fur, she blacked out afterwards.
She awoke in some form of tunnel or cave, within the snow itself, her body warm against the large mass of white fur that filled up the entire space, she began to cry softly as she huddled up next to the great bear, she had found her companion. "Ursa.." She muttered as she drifted off to sleep.
.
Additional Notes:
Viktorya is a skilled blacksmith and considers it an artform, she actively looks for ways to improve her trade, through the minds of other great Forgers, practicing her trade, and searching for new materials to forge great works from.
Her clothes are well suited for the Cold but in hot or mild climates she can suffer from heat exhaustion.
Well adapted for the frozen wastes and survival within them.
Companion Name: Ursa Major
Companion Gender: Male
Companion Type: Polar bear
Physical Description:
Has a small scar under its left eye
Additional Notes: [Personality, quirks...] Ursa feels the relationship between he and his companion is that of a Brother-Sister relationship, and is highly protective of Viktorya, this makes him hard to take on journeys into cities as he has a hard time figuring out the actions of other humans such as an attack and a cough being one in the same when near Viktorya and will use his loud roar, 8.4 feet height and 2,210 pound frame to great effect.
His personality is like his body movement, Big, Dumb slow and easily confused and tricked. He shows great affection towards his Companion (Whom provides the brains) and merely notices his companion's companions existance, a contrast between Viktorya whom is warm and friendly to others outside of their special circle and one should always tread carefully around a jealous bear. His black eyes are also an important part of him as looking into them tells more about his feelings at that present than talk ever could
He is often use as a packmule because of his large size, often carrying various supplies and equipment over vast distances with relative ease, and often lets Viktorya ride upon his back providing she doesn't jab her feet into his ribs and tell him to "Giddy-Up" like somekind of Common Horse and not a Mighty Bear, the outcome often ending in a play-fight
a strange hatred of squirrels also drives this behemoth into a fury, the reason is unknown to even Viktorya, whatever the reason, Grey squirrel, Red squirrel, it matters not, the only good squirrel is a squirrel crushed under the paws of Ursa.
Ursa also has a love of Statues, Trees, Seal meat, snow and pillows
Pair Abilit(y/ies): Both share Slumber and Endurance while only the bear has Brute Force.
There is heaps of room for character development, my character is 16 years old and as yet, has never been outside the tavern during the day (and even at night its only the forest where she won't be seen), never had a friend, never been on an actual adventure or done anything of any consequence, she is an open book ready to be written in! Also serving in a place like a tavern is a great opportunity to meet and eventually form bonds with other characters.
-snip-
>:-D GMing makes you cynical. Well, I'm not the GM, but you know what I meant. If you ever want to have friends, though, never start your own RP.
I only have left to do the bio, but I'd like to know what you think of the sheet so far.
Name: Zestia Dakron
Age: 21
Gender: Female
Profession: Assassin
Physical Description: Height: 5'5. Weight: 60 kilos/about 9 stones/132 pounds (I will keep only one of those, just tell me which one to keep.). Short, black hair. Green eyes. Wears a darkgreen shirt with black pants and black shoes. Carries around two daggers, one colored darkred and the other colored green. Both daggers have a black line in the middle.
Background/Bio:
Additional Notes: Is fast to strike with her daggers, approprietly named Crimson and Jade. Being an assassin, she's good at staying silent and going around quickly and quietly. She makes sure no one is able to see her and no one is able to hear her. Has a good eye for any sort of hindrance or obstacle and tries her best to find a way around it.
Companion Name: Shade
Companion Gender: Male
Companion Type: Snake (a King Cobra)
Physical Description: Has green scales, green eyes, is an adult, has a scar over his left eye after a fight.
Additional Notes: Is a tough softie. Can be strict towards Zestia, but in the end he's always willing to give a smile (as much as King Cobras smile, that is...). Has a habit of gnawing lightly at Zestia's leg or arm, always careful he doesn't bite her. He likes to tickle her cheek with his tongue.
Pair Ability: Camouflage
I can have the snake be a simple Cobra if King Cobra is too much.
Edit: Why am I not in the reserves anymore? I said I only have the bio left. This isn't the finished sheet. I'm working on the bio as we speak.
Okay folks. The GMs are now burnt out, brains fried. There will be no more Accepting done tonight but sheets can still be submitted. Those people that I've PMed revisions to, get to revising so I can post your final sheets up and/or do a final review.
CS reviews will begin again tomorrow morning - *checks time* i.e. later today actually.... Those sheets submitted & accepted after the max total is reached will be put on the reserve queue, which'll hold about 3 people. Depending on how things go (and if we get our last reserve sheet in so it can be reviewed) we'll either begin Sat evening or I'll wait until Sunday. A group announcement will be made when the Starting post has been posted.
Sheets still to be judged : 2
Reserved yet to submit sheets : 1
Here's my finished sheet. I'm amazed how well it looks, considering how tired I am.
Name: Zestia Dakron
Age: 21
Gender: Female
Profession: Assassin
Physical Description: Height: 5'5. Weight: 132 pounds. Short, black hair. Green eyes. Wears a darkgreen shirt with black pants and black shoes. Carries around two daggers, one colored darkred and the other colored darkgreen. Both daggers have a black line in the middle.
Background/Bio: Zestia grew up as a daughter of a military man. Landon Drakon, Zestia's father, was a man respected by many and feared by others. They grew up in the city of Gemmal, where Landon was a simple, yet respected knight. Zestia had never really cared much for the use of a sword, feeling that daggers were much more effective in terms of speed. She trained hard under her father's watchful eye. He wanted her to learn to use a sword, but when she couldn't be persuated, he decided it would be good for her to at least use some kind of weapon. At the age of 20, her father gave her the daggers she now carries, a darkred dagger named Crimson and a darkgreen one called Jade. She's taken the profession of an assassin and after a few missions, she found out that she was good at her job. She's not well known, but those that know her, know how well she does her job.
Additional Notes: Is fast to strike with her daggers, approprietly named Crimson and Jade. Being an assassin, she's good at staying silent and going around quickly and quietly. She makes sure no one is able to see her and no one is able to hear her. Has a good eye for any sort of hindrance or obstacle and tries her best to find a way around it.
Companion Name: Shade
Companion Gender: Male
Companion Type: Snake (a King Cobra)
Physical Description: Has green scales, green eyes, is an adult, has a scar over his left eye after a fight.
Additional Notes: Is a tough softie. Can be strict towards Zestia, but in the end he's always willing to give a smile (as much as King Cobras smile, that is...). Has a habit of gnawing lightly at Zestia's leg or arm, always careful he doesn't bite her. He likes to tickle her cheek with his tongue.
What I mean is, Shade is a sort of a father/brother to her, if you know what I mean. He makes sure she's well prepared before every mission. I can change it to "Has a calm aura around him" if you want.
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