Archived characters

Just a thread for dead or noncurrent characters. If a character from this thread becomes active, just let one of us on management know, and we'll put it back to its own thread.

Character information
Full Character Name: Sorynn Esdale
Furcadia Name: Sorynn
Desired Role: 'Princess' of the current ruler of Nharati.
Gender: Female
Age: 19
Height: 5'6
Build: Curvy
Eye Color: Sea Green
Hair Color: Chestnut
Preferred affiliation: (Tyltin or Drysllthen) Tyltin

Description: The Lady of Ysdrin, House of Esdale. Deep chestnut hair was piled into a fountain of curls and braids, held back from her porcelain face with an ornate vine and garnet circlet. Large sea green eyes were lined with thick lashes, leaving paints and powders unnecessary. Lush lips rarely held her bold tongue in check behind her deceptively naive smile. Gowns were made of the finest fabrics her House could gather and always tailored on the smaller side, to provide a carefully constructed line between propriety and seduction.

Character Background: Sorynn is the daughter of the current King of Nharati, Raegnold. Formerly from Ysdrin, she quickly grew accoustomed to her new life as Princess of Nharati. Now, seeing that her position and standard of living is unstable, she's trying desperately to find someone of more stable power to sink her claws into, or at the very least offer her assistance in hopes for rich rewards.

Full Character Name: Christiana Elaine Maelyss
Furcadia Name: Christiana Maelyss
Desired Role: Noble; Songtress/dancer
Gender: Female
Age: 22
Height: 5' 6"
Build: Slender, dancer
Eye Color: Amber
Hair Color: Dark brown
Preferred affiliation: Neutral

Description:
Cream skin was entirely covered in the rick color of burgandy. Skirt was compiled if silk and chiffon and the bodice of a delicate rose patterned silk. Everything was finely trimmed with gold, just enough before making the look to gaudy. Sleeves were of crimson silk and wrapped with gold cord. She seemed to float--to effortlessly glide-- with every movement. But walking was as effortless as dancing was to her. Adornements included strings of gold woven into her plaited dark brown hair. Eyes were pools of amber, filled with laughter and dance. She was an affluant speaker, a weaver of tales through notes and lyrics. Presence was always known though the clinking bracelets and anklets she wore and the lute she was rarely without.

Character Background:
The second daughter of a thegn, Christiana had evaded the expectations that the eldest was dealt. Life was full of fun and joy that stature and monetary stability provided. But she took a liking to the pleasure song and dance often gave spectators.

With songs and movement only on her mind, it was clear to see the current politics never mattered much to her while growing up. By the time of reaching adulthood, the current matters and gossip went passed. It sparked some family discontent when she was summoned as an entertainer for the party supporting Drysllthen but it was agreed it was an honor and a way to give Christiana a good look at the world and a chance to create a good life.

Here, we see a rare...not happy face.



Here's that smile!

Full Character Name: Tobias Albert Eberhardt
Furcadia Name: Tobias Eberhardt
Desired Role: Nobleman and advisor to Drysllthen
Gender: Male
Age: 28
Height: 180cm (that's about 6'1")
Build: Lean and trim
Eye Color: Green
Hair Color: Brown/black
Preferred affiliation: Drysllthen

Description: Perhaps not the most imposing man at first sight, Tobias carries himself with the demeanor of a learned man. His skin, pale from so many hours spent by the books, is immaculate and unmarked, the first of many signs pointing to a well-structured upbringing and a life far from the battlefield. Well-kept wavy hair and a wide moustache above a goatee adorn his face; his cothes are delicate and detailed, sporting intricate designs bearing the colours of his homeland. There is an air of sheepishness in his physical presence, muscles evidently absent -- but those eyes betray a hidden wit sharper than any blade.

Character Background: Tobias is the sole child of a moderately wealthy noble family of minor import in Sarmagh. From a young age, Toby preferred the company of the books in the extensive library in his home (one of his father's proudest possessions), instead of developing a penchant for the outdoors or the art of war. His parents were happy to foster this intellectual side of him, and brought to the home the best tutors they could afford. Soon, Tobias was an expert in many fields, ranging from literature to philosophy to political theory.

Where he has excelled, however, is linguistics. A polyglot, Tobias has managed to become fluent in several of the languages of Nharati, but in particular, his expertise lies in the Old Tongue. It is this knowledge that has caused him to be summoned to Drysllthen's side, to teach the man the language.

Tobias has only recently begun to abandon his books in favour of seeing the world. From a young age he has enjoyed sailing; perhaps his sole hobby outside of the house. He also considers himself a fairly decent chef, often requesting to watch or aid his personal cooks.

Application

Character information

Full Character Name: Fendrel D'Barrony

Furcadia Name: Fendrel

Desired Role: Jester

Gender: Male

Age: 22

Height: 6'3

Build: Tall and skinny, skinny and tall.

Eye Color: Brown

Hair Color: Black

Preferred affiliation: (Tyltin or Drysllthen) Drys!

Description: Long, lean, figure, stork like, if you would. The man was a sight and a half in his brilliant red attire. Seventh son of a seventh son, the stuff that stories were made of. The wise fool? God only knew. The brown, soulful eyes of a child, the crooked grin of a gentle mad man. What was Fendrel? Was he Fendrel the fire eater? Fendrel the sweet talker? Teller of jokes, singer of songs? Three words: His Majesty's Fool.

Character Background: Well, there's just not a whole lot left to go around when you're the seventh son of a seventh son and a title doesn't exactly fix things. Sickly as a child, they said it addled his wits and well....Better to be a live fool, than a dead lordling with six elder brothers scrambling for every shred of inheritance. He 'wandered off' at about the age of twelve and didn't turn up until some years later, strong, tall and ready to become more than a seventh son of a seventh son at the feet of the Red Beast.

Full Character Name: Bryn Hwllbyrdson
Furcadia Name: Bryn Hwllbyrdson
Desired Role: Tutor
Gender: Male
Age: 28
Height: 5'4
Build: a little healthy
Eye Color: green
Hair Color: light brown

Description: Between the large sleeves of the navy woolen sur-coat and the high collar of grey vair, the man was fairly hidden. His breeches matched his coat and leggings continue the ensemble. His simple boots were made of leather and tanned lightly. By face he looked young, scratches of facial hair shading his upper lip and jaw slightly, though he walked with a cane already. His hair had been cut short, and the color was hard to place between light brown and dark blonde. The occasional grey flare didn't help the transition. His eyes were a rich shade of a swampy green.

Character Background: A fairly unremarkable birth, Bryn was the only child of a lonely couple. When he was three, his father died of illness, so his mother made her way to an uncle of Bryn's. On the journey there, Bryn fell from the wagon and broke his leg in several places. The injury never fully healed and thus he walks with a limp. Living with his uncle, Bryn never trained to be a knight due to his condition, but studied in his uncle's personal library. Along with the books and his mother's love for stories, Bryn became well versed in varying subjects and stories. It is not stories, though, that pay for meals, so as his uncle approaches his deathbed, Bryn leaves in search of a wife with enough titles and prestige to settle the hole the years had dug.

Application

Character information
Full Character Name: Lucien Altair
Furcadia Name: Lucien Altair
Desired Role: Spymaster (undercover as Library)
Gender: Male
Age: 34
Height: 6'3"
Build: Thin/sinewy
Eye Color: Ice blue
Hair Color: Raven Black (Black with purplish/blue sheen)

Description: Tall man of thin build, all skin bone and lean muscle. Dark, raven colored strands of hair are pulled back into a tie at the nape of his neck, hanging down between his shoulders. His face is sharp and hollowed, a pair of bifocals resting before crystal blue eyes. A long, wide sleeved tunic hugs his lithe frame, colored dark blue. Black breeches of a similar style cover his legs, and a pair of supple leather boots quiet his steps.


Character Background: Lucien is the son of one of the men who worked under the Valenti house, specifically for Uhtred. He was raised in the tradition of the family, learning the craft of his father, the previous head librarian, until they were forced to flee their home. At 10, he left the life he knew and followed his father as they both continued after Garnett. His training was continued, and only ended when his father passed away from a cause no more mundane than old age. Lucien entered the service of his adopted home as a clerk and Librarian.

Now that Drys has the throne, he has been given the position of head librarian and clerk, and is in charge of both of those positions and the royal messengers.

Application

Character information

Full Character Name: Celany Edis Myrill
Furcadia Name: Celany
Desired Role: Royal Jeweler
Gender: Female
Age: 20
Height:5'5
Build: Rather thin,- for now.
Eye Color: Ivy Green
Hair Color: White-Blond

Description: Unexpected, the Royal Jeweler. Pale, thin creature of the northern mountains. Unexpected in gender and stature. Unexpected with plain work dresses and shorn, nearly white, hair beginning to reach past her ears in uneven locks. Green eyes, clouded emeralds, lowered. She didn't fit, with her work worn hands and strange ways, but there was always a place for every necklace, ring and broach, a back for every jeweled dagger.

Character Background: It was midwinter when Lord Borin received the letter. A humble request from the capital, for one of his fine sons to step into the shoes of royal jeweler. After all, why should they request anyone else? Some of the finest jewels in the kingdom came from the Myrill mines, and it was rumored, the world. It was also rumored, that each of the mad man on the mountain's children, had served time in the mines to learn the value of the gleaming rocks which came from the ground in buckets of rubble.

Rumors, however truthful some might be, also had a reputation for spreading lies and the biggest lie, was this: Lord Borin Myrill, the mad man on the mountain, had many fine sons.

It couldn't have been farther from the truth. The man had exactly three sons, a pitiful number for a man who'd been through no less than five wives. The first, his father's heir, was off at war. The second, was sickly and the third, a sweet enough boy, was....a bit slow, to say the least. Besides his sons, he had three daughters, though he'd long since declared them useless.

They were, the true masters of the craft, but Lord Borin would have none of the idea of sending one of them to court. The humiliation, would be simply, unbearable.

And so the letter sat,

and sat,

and sat.

What Borin hadn't realized, however, was that it, had long since started. It started in the mines, as it always did, when the pans froze over. It crept down the mountain and into the villages below. A sniffle, a sneeze. It made it's way back up with the servants. A sniffle, a cough, a fever and chills. It made it self at home in the old stone walls of the castle, like hands in a pair of well worn gloves, filling every crack and crevice, and slowly, began, to kill.

The snow had turned to patches of Grey slush when the eldest son made his way home. The doors of the houses in the village closed against new comers and the air stunk of burning flesh. The mines were in ruins, the servants, those still alive, over worked. The sick, the dieing, the recovered, all needed care. Two brothers dead, one sister married in the face of all of winter's hell so the broken castle would have a lord till spring. The castle was in shambles.

The letter was opened a second time, wax seal brushed aside with the dust which had collected over the long spring. The new lord of the castle and the mines, the new mad man on the mountain, read it over from the chair where his father had spent so much of his life. There were no fine sons left. Just a crippled man and his sister's sad excuse for a husband. It'd be a better life for Celany. It'd be a better life for them all, if she married well.

So the last of the horses left, a servant, a guard, an assistant, and Lady Celany Myrill, the soon to be Royal Jeweler of the great Kingdom Nharati.

Come one! Come all!

Looking for people interested in playing a Jeweler's assistant! Anything will do!
Only must being that this character have brass fucking balls.

Contact: Merripen, Celany or Greer or shoot me an e-mail at supermintydinko@gmail.com or PM me here.

Go ahead and post me your ideas here!

Keep in mind that this character:

+Would have been an apprentice in a horriable, nasty, snowy, rocky, fortress in the mountains.

+He/she would have likely served time in the mines, regardless of social caste.

+Would have recently survived a horrific plague and a very long journey basically dressed like a beggar, through the tail end of a northern Nharati winter/ early spring. He/she would have probably fought bandits at some point and generally grown lean, mean, and hungry.

This character is not relay going to be a spoiled, pampered, soft little thing. Size, age and sex, don't relay matter. It's honestly who survived this long and is fairly compatant. XD Remember folks, if a swedish flight attendant can fall from an airplane without a parachute and survive, it's a guessing game as to who can survive what. Now post! POST my pretties!

Character Name: Terrance Remus Vandergut
Furcadia Name:
Desired Role: Jeweler’s Assistant
Gender: male
Age: 17
Height: 5’7
Build: athletic
Eye Color: hazel brown
Hair Color: red

Description:
Red hair sat a messy, blazing mop on his head His pale skin made his hair ignite all the more. He wore a heavy green tunic, with even heavier black trousers. His boots are so worn he should just walk around bare footed, the same went for his cloths. Too worn out to fight the cold and he always seemed to be cold, it wasn’t the temperature of the air that made him cold. He was youthful, handsome a fine boy for any girl, but that wasn’t the case anymore. Hazel brown eyes of liquid gold had lost their youthful fire as his outlook on the world was jaded and cold, colder then the mountains he’d come from.[work in progress]

Character Background:
He spent his life like everyone else, growing up and working in the mines. It was a life he loved, but that all changed to quickly. It seemed innocent enough at first, one person sick, two people sick. The healers could handle it. Before anyone could do anything it spread like wildfire, whole families were sick, whole families died together. Work in the mines stop, time stop as everyone tried to fight this plague that had been dropped on them.

Terrance, who was always called Remus, and his family were lucky, so it would seem. Months went by and as everyone in the village seemed to be dropping like flies. Terrance and his family survived, he thanked ‘God’ for him and his family’s good fortune. He went to church every day to give his thanks. He was foolish to think that his family was untouchable, that ‘God’ was watching out for them. He woke that fateful morning to the sound of coughing. He rushed out of his room to find the youngest of them all sick. Terrance ran out of his house barely dressed, running and falling to the church to pray. They had good fortune this could pass and his little sister would survive. He would continue to go to church no more giving thanks, but praying fervently. He would watch his sister get worse and worse with each passing day, but never did he give up hope. His prayers went unanswered. It was a great loss for the family to lose the youngest. There was no time to morn as another fell sick, then another. A family eleven strong was now reduced to five, weak and miserable people, except for Terrance, he showed no signs of becoming ill. It was his task now to take care of everyone. He stopped going to the church what was the use now? Every time he prayed everyone only worsen. There was no ‘God’, there was no one to help. He barely slept, only passing out when he could go on no longer, food held an awful taste, beside what was the use when he knew he would die too, just like the everyone else. The last five died in his arms, he had no more tears for anyone as he promised them he would join them soon. A man he respected and considered family, he now loathed. The poor man had the job of going through the village with a cart, ringing a bell and yelling, "Bring out yer dead, bring out yer dead!" Terrance hated the sound of that bell, really any sound of a bell.

As soon as he heard the King was looking for a jeweler he took the chance, he had to leave that forsaken place, leave everything behind. There was nothing left for him anyways. His family was dead and waiting for him to join them. He would gather what little he had, everything else, even his home burned to stop the plague. The journey was long and harsh, but nothing could compare to what he went through. Hunger became a disease as he would hunt what he could in the forest and beg and steal in the towns they passed. It was easy enough to steal as most people avoided them. Whatever had slaughtered their town, these people didn’t wanted them in they town. They finally made it to Valys and to the gates of the castle. After the ‘misunderstanding’ they were allowed in. He could only wonder what would happen next.

Okay!

Update here by popular demand.

As it is now Thursday, this possession will be closed in roughly five hours. That means that this is indeed, the last call for this apparently highly desirable role.

Full Character Name: Ceridwen Carys Pfoernoth
Furcadia Name: Ceridwen Pfoernoth
Desired Role: Companion
Gender: Female
Age: 14
Height: 5’0”
Build: Depending on where puberty puts her, she goes back and forth between slender and stick thin
Eye Color: green-hazel
Hair Color: deep black, straight (when complient) and hip length

Description: Complete with pale-as-the-moon skin, the occasional period of wiry limbs, and a lopsided smile, Ceridwen wouldn’t be called a “natural beauty”. Pretty would be a stretch too. Perhaps her looks could have been saved by charming freckles if they didn’t insist on clumping together on the bridge of her nose. But perhaps there was something endearing about her; expressive eyes and they way she always bouced around. That was until a person found he was the victim of pranks. Then that little twinkle was found to be pure, unadulterated mischief. But she is really a good hearted girl deep down, or so she likes to believe. That good natured part is often shadowed by her opinionated, boisterous, mischievious exterior.

Character Background: Ceridwen was born into a wealthy ealdorman family. Just a typical girl. Even from birth it was quite apparent she would be the opposite in looks of her older sister, with black hair that never was quite able to be tamed, short height, and wide eyes. From an early age it was clear on what her forte would be: mischief. Such a typical, average girl had the tendency to blend in well and used it to her advantage. Whether it be making the cook believe he lost his mind or tying her nurse’s apron to the rocker when she fell alseep for the umpteenth time, it was no wonder she got the nickname “Beastie “from that old nurse.

With family power came respect, and she soon found she would work gossip to her advantage when speaking with passing guests. It became quite the delight for litte Ceridwen.

One thing that was no joking matter, however, was the girl’s attachment to her older sister, Gerlinde, whom she loved dearly. When Gerlinde went off to het married to the eligible bachelor, Drysllthen, Ceridwen found there was nothing in her power to quell the reproach she felt for him. How dare her steal her sister away? When news reached that her beloved sister had died in childbirth, the girl, just eleven, felt the deepest resentment she ever knew for the man. But the child, she could not find the power to hate. It was the child of Gerlinde, whom her sister had carried and loved. Even now, Ceridwen can not find the heart to eve forgive Drysllthen, but makes no remarks outloud. Under normal circumstances, Ceridwen would be just as opinionated and beligerant but she does rather like her head on her shoulders. So she stays verbally quiet but tries to make her point known in more subtle ways.

The little teen likes to believe she is well-rounded and oh-so knowledgable (a folly of youth). However, when it comes to the art of flirtation, she is very much in the dark. She finds boys to be rather yucky and detests the idea of marriage.

She is well aware she’s not the most gorgeous sight, but puts her faith into believing she cute. And that, she feels, makes her seem more approachable, whether or not it’s the truth. A favourite past time is chatting with people and socializing.

Ceridwen won’t throw tantrums; she feels they are quite beneath her. Really, she just always is used to getting her way the first time asked. She is a very independent spirit and likes to do things her way the first time. Despite the attendents she had back home, she feels the need to dismiss them and do things her own way. What if she can’t? Then she makes the attendents lives living hell.

She something not be done her own way, she will crawl to a corner and stare wide-eyed at absolutely nothing (maybe the wall, maybe a blade of grass, it all depends). And then she’ll go off and do something about it, most likely misbehave.

Ceridwen has an internal struggle; on one hand, she wants to do what boys her age do (archery, swordplay, etc.) but can only really do riding. On the other, she detests being dirty. She likes playing in mud, but once realizing she is indeed covered with dirt, does all but curl into the fetal position.

The teen is vaguely aware of her flaws, but not so much as to change them. Instead, she still believes people will adapt to them

Okay! The role is officially closed.

This is sort of the gist of her. She's a bit more lanky and her hair is a little more out of control. Also, she has lots of clumpy freckles on her nose

pending check with Meg!

Please talk to management about character

Character information
Full Character Name: Liùsaidh (Li-iu-saith) Cleighton Namara
Furcadia Name: Liùsaidh
Desired Role: Tower Inquisitor
Gender: Male
Age: 31
Height: 6'1"
Build: Between average and athletic
Eye Color: Blue
Hair Color: Dark

Description: Lord Namara was not a man who towered above giants. Neither was he one who walked with a particularly masculine, straight-hipped swagger. In fact, it was often quite difficult to put the word 'Inquisitor' with Liùsaidh at all. He'd adopted quite the foppish hairstyle, tended to wear ruffles, was overly fond of velvet surcoats, flared his sleeves and shaved his face impeccably. The secrets were beyond sapphires and mink, his reputation far heavier than smoke-concealing perfume. A veritable gentleman and soft-touch, he was - and he'd say so to every last wretch tied to every last crack ridden wall.

Character Background:

Liùsaidh was born a man of Ygriss to a terribly polite mother and a painful, flamboyant fop of a father (who, if rumour had it right, couldn't possibly have been his father due to a preference of page boys). His parentage was often questioned rather ruthlessly by the other children when he was small, and matters weren't helped by Liùsaidh's own tendency towards resplendence and a delayed growth spurt.

Mocked ceaselessly for first his potential bastard status, second his father's behaviour, third for his shortness and eventually fourth for a bout of impotence (which he would always strongly defend as being the fault of the thrice-ugly wench in question and the pressure involved as a boy), he was unsurprisingly an angry fop on the eve of his thirteenth birthday.

It was on this birthday that everything had been going delightfully according to plan for his celebrations. However, his father hadn't turned up. Which, you understand, was rude. So, out he sashayed to find said father - and found him in the cellar, of all places, along with an assortment of interesting implements he'd never seen before. He found his father with, to no surprise, a boy; a boy seated spread-legged atop a Judas Cradle.

He said nothing, did nothing, simply watched with a slow, developing fascination. And as of that birthday, he began inventing and researching. By the time he was sixteen, he knew all there was to know about torture, its implements and methods. More than that, he knew people. He knew fear. He knew mockery and degradation. He learned them all well, and soon no longer suffered from his impotence. He found an apprenticeship in a northern dungeon, occasionally lending out his services to armies when they were in need of 'Question'. His career really lifted in his mid-twenties, when he acquired his own torture troupe and wrote the Namara Code.

The Namara Code, though slightly ostentatiously and self-aggrandisingly named, proved to be the making of him. It understood how to induce 'the Syndrome' and identified the key problems in modern torture. It included an index of personally invented torture implements that were both original and worked on improvements to the Iron Maiden and the Pass, amongst several other more common chamber members.

Never particularly the sort of man women wanted to marry once they realised that Lord Namara was, in fact, the Namara, he remains unmarried and childless at thirty-one. He and his staff have finally made their way to the ultimate dungeon, and reside within the Tower of Valwyn.

This character's introduction to play will be after Carrigan leaves Valys.