Post by Brina on Mar 31, 2015 10:57:15 GMT -6
Name: Brina
Class: Squire
Age: 14
Born in: Carrhae, Ilia
Appearance: Brina is rather small, even for her age. She has lanky legs and a short torso leaving her looking disproportional. Her frame is a bit boyish with stocky shoulders and a lean, sturdy waist. No hourglass or pear shapes to be found here. Instead she exudes something that a cow spent far too long chewing and spat out in disgust. It was as if her lower limbs had grown overnight and the rest of her body had forgotten to catch up. This often led to tripping over her own feet. She blames it on the unbalanced gravitaltial pull. Unfortunately, she lacks the upper body strength to attack efficiently with weapons so she spends much of her time in the training yard to fix that. Her only real practical skill is riding. Her armor is similar to that of a Pegasus Knight with a black and gold tunic skirt, steel breast plate, fingerless gloves, and knee-high, protective stockings. Her shoulders are left free to better assist knights with their armor and weapons.
Her hair is a dull brown, cropped choppy around her face. She usually has her hair tied to sides in pigtails and uses red ribbons to match her overcoat. They often come undone and are an easy win for enemies. Her face is somewhat chubby with a button nose and thin lips that she spends too much time chewing.
Personality: Warm. Bubbly. Sunshine. Kittens. Rainbows, yea this fairly accurate for a 14 year old. Brina is the poster child of innocence and naiveté. The rough terrain of Carrhae taught her the value of the simple things like the first snowfall, a foggy ride through dewy fields, or just a hot bowl of soup after a long day of training. This gives her positive outlook and an enthusiastic attitude (much of which is unwelcoming early in the mornings). Because of her sheltered upbringing, she is unfamiliar with hardship and things like cynicism just confuse her. She enjoys meeting new people, hearing their way of life, and trusts far too quickly. One day she will be burned terribly for it.
Brina clings to an ardent moral compass and rarely wastes time deliberating. Though she is easily manipulated, she still has ability to weed out the really bad apples, call it horse sense if you will. She tends to follow her gut instinct and views the world as black and white. Grey just doesn’t exist to her. Right and wrong are always supposed to be clear (and it’s not like she can just sit still and be quiet about it either.) This can give her an air of superiority that comes off as judgmental.
Emotions are by far her biggest downfall. It’s fairly easy to get her riled up and in fact many have done so on purpose! (shocker) She wears her heart on her sleeve and has been called a ‘bleeding heart’ far too often. As with any prepubescent girl, her feelings are flighty. She switches between seething anger and cute, fluffy puppies rapidly. Passive just doesn’t fit in her personality, and at all times, Brina will let you know where you stand with her. It’s gotten her in trouble on more than one occasion.
She also has a terrible stubborn streak. While this can be harnessed into determination, nine times out of ten it’s just Brina making a fixed assumption and little can be done to change her mind. The most affects her incessant need to be the champion of destitute. If she believes there is an injustice, she will fight tooth and nail, even if help is unwanted or even warranted. She is rash and has not learned that strategic fights are better than lost ones. Brina simply reacts, leaving her a slave to her whims. In a fight, her movements will become sloppy and easy to predict.
In many ways, Brina is still a child lacking in wisdom, discipline, and control. But passion doesn’t win wars. Only time will tell if she has the real makings of a knight.
Story: Brina was born in an Ilian summer to a very loving family. Her father owned a supply company, caravanning provisions and goods. As a young child, her parents were much more nomadic, carting across the cities and meeting all manner of people. This was where her fascination of others began. Traders would pick the young child up, cooing and giving sweeties. Even as she grew older, the nuance of approaching strangers never faded. She spent much of her childhood in her fathers lap on horseback. Cherry and Rowan, her father’s pack horses, were her first true friends. She’d carry sugar cubes in her pocket and brush their coats as they gently gummed her sugary palms. After long journeys she’d untangle their gnarled manes and pat their heads, whispering child nonsense in their ears. On her 6th birthday, her mother made a powder blue cake filled with sweet dates. But Brina hated the color blue, so naturally she ran away. While her parents were doing business with the rug merchant next door, Brina snuck into the stable, dragging a heavy stool with her, and climbed onto Rowan bareback. She clenched her tiny fists into his golden mane and they flew out the city gates, galloping on the rugged road, all the while Brina laughed into the sky. She had never in her six years felt so free. Rowan stopped near a babbling brook, slowly shrugging the small child off his back. Rolling onto the soft grass, she tucked her hands beneath her head and took a nap curled around the stocky mount. Hours later, she awoke to her father’s laughter and he carried the sleepy child back home, beaming with pride.
That spring, Brina got a new baby brother, Issac, and the whole family settled down in Carrhae. It was the perfect location for a trading post and her father still made drop offs during the summer months. Initially Brina didn’t have too much trouble making friends. She’d play with the other merchant’s children and wave to them as they came into the store. Though eventually they’d all leave. Spending so much time alone on the road meant that used to sharing or giving into anyone else's way. Brina was what you might call bossy and was quite spoiled by her father. She wanted to spent all her time with the horses. They were special. On days when she could get away from the store, she’d sneak off and pester the stable boys to telling all their tricks. She'd watch them get shoed and even learned how to calm a horse during storms. The next years passed quickly as Brina spent her time in the store and learning from the stable boys.
The summer of her 11th year, Brina begged her father to take her on the trade routes. After much convincing, he caved. Brina's legs had grown strong from hours on horseback and she could easily stay in saddle for hours. They stopped at little villages and inns along the way, telling stories long into the night. She'd fall asleep listening to the sound of her father's voice murmuring tales of heroes and dragons. It was Brina's job to care for the horses and make sure they were fed, watered, and brushed. As they entered through the gates of capital, Brina was left in awe. She hadn’t remembered the walls being so high or seeing so many people in the past. What caught her eye the most however were the pegasus knights. Pegasi weren’t uncommon in Ilia, but this had been the first time she had seen them ridden, and by knights no less. As Brina stood admiring these powerful women, she heard crying coming from the alley behind her. She turned her head and saw a small boy being pushed around. She shouted and ran towards the jumble. Anger flew through her veins as she remembered all the times the kids back home that called her names. The boys turned their heads to see a little girl barreling towards them. Without thought, she outstretched her arm, her fist colliding with the soft, fleshy abdomen of the first bigger boy. Instantly they all jumped on top of her. Her hand flew up, covering her head, until the boys ran away laughing. Kicked and pummeled into a bloody mess, Brina picked herself up, brushing the snow off her shoulders. She squeezed the last of the tears out her eyes and ran over to the boy in the snowbank. Angrily he shouted at her that he didn’t need help from a girl. Brina gave a scoff, and stomped away angrily. Later when her father asked what happened Brina would him that she fell.
The next two summers, Brina continued accompanying her father. She still would scrape with those boys whenever she’d run into them. Most of the time they would win. Back at home she had been practicing by punching bales of hay. She still wasn’t very good, but she was getting better. Her 13th year on their way back home, they came across what they believed was a hunter’s camp. What the hunters were really after were pegasi. Pegasi nested high in the mountains, but would come down for a few months out of the year to give birth. The hunters were long gone when they arrived, but they had left behind a baying colt. With no pegasi nearby the foal would surely die in the coming cold. Wrapping a blanket around the colt’s outstretched wings, Brina carried him back home. No one was sure why the pegasi were taken or why they had left this little one behind. Brina named him Laurel, for luck.
Brina was inseparable from the fledgling. She nursed him and would sneak out to sleep with him in the stables. She was attached at first sight and nothing could part the two. People in Carrhae were wary. Keeping pegasus babes was seen as bad luck, less you incite the wrath of the mother. Only those trained in pegasi handling were sanctioned to touch them. So when the first thaw came, Brina and her father carted the yearling to Edessa. When they reached the castle, she was overcome with grief to part with little pegasus. Unbeknownst to her father, Brina met with a recruiter and begged them to take her and the colt together. The lady knight agreed but informed Brina that she wasn’t to ride until she had proper training as a squire. Brina’s father was crushed to hear of her decision to join, but could not deny the girl’s heart.
The very next morning Brina began her squire duties. She polished armor, cleaned boots, cared for the pegasi, and most important, trained. Because she had little fighting experience, she was behind some of the other squires. At night her bones were so weary she could barely make it into bed curling herself up in front of the fire. She learned how to properly hold a sword, the code of honor, and military tactics. It was hard work but somehow Brina believed she was right where she belonged.
Class: Squire
Age: 14
Born in: Carrhae, Ilia
Appearance: Brina is rather small, even for her age. She has lanky legs and a short torso leaving her looking disproportional. Her frame is a bit boyish with stocky shoulders and a lean, sturdy waist. No hourglass or pear shapes to be found here. Instead she exudes something that a cow spent far too long chewing and spat out in disgust. It was as if her lower limbs had grown overnight and the rest of her body had forgotten to catch up. This often led to tripping over her own feet. She blames it on the unbalanced gravitaltial pull. Unfortunately, she lacks the upper body strength to attack efficiently with weapons so she spends much of her time in the training yard to fix that. Her only real practical skill is riding. Her armor is similar to that of a Pegasus Knight with a black and gold tunic skirt, steel breast plate, fingerless gloves, and knee-high, protective stockings. Her shoulders are left free to better assist knights with their armor and weapons.
Her hair is a dull brown, cropped choppy around her face. She usually has her hair tied to sides in pigtails and uses red ribbons to match her overcoat. They often come undone and are an easy win for enemies. Her face is somewhat chubby with a button nose and thin lips that she spends too much time chewing.
Personality: Warm. Bubbly. Sunshine. Kittens. Rainbows, yea this fairly accurate for a 14 year old. Brina is the poster child of innocence and naiveté. The rough terrain of Carrhae taught her the value of the simple things like the first snowfall, a foggy ride through dewy fields, or just a hot bowl of soup after a long day of training. This gives her positive outlook and an enthusiastic attitude (much of which is unwelcoming early in the mornings). Because of her sheltered upbringing, she is unfamiliar with hardship and things like cynicism just confuse her. She enjoys meeting new people, hearing their way of life, and trusts far too quickly. One day she will be burned terribly for it.
Brina clings to an ardent moral compass and rarely wastes time deliberating. Though she is easily manipulated, she still has ability to weed out the really bad apples, call it horse sense if you will. She tends to follow her gut instinct and views the world as black and white. Grey just doesn’t exist to her. Right and wrong are always supposed to be clear (and it’s not like she can just sit still and be quiet about it either.) This can give her an air of superiority that comes off as judgmental.
Emotions are by far her biggest downfall. It’s fairly easy to get her riled up and in fact many have done so on purpose! (shocker) She wears her heart on her sleeve and has been called a ‘bleeding heart’ far too often. As with any prepubescent girl, her feelings are flighty. She switches between seething anger and cute, fluffy puppies rapidly. Passive just doesn’t fit in her personality, and at all times, Brina will let you know where you stand with her. It’s gotten her in trouble on more than one occasion.
She also has a terrible stubborn streak. While this can be harnessed into determination, nine times out of ten it’s just Brina making a fixed assumption and little can be done to change her mind. The most affects her incessant need to be the champion of destitute. If she believes there is an injustice, she will fight tooth and nail, even if help is unwanted or even warranted. She is rash and has not learned that strategic fights are better than lost ones. Brina simply reacts, leaving her a slave to her whims. In a fight, her movements will become sloppy and easy to predict.
In many ways, Brina is still a child lacking in wisdom, discipline, and control. But passion doesn’t win wars. Only time will tell if she has the real makings of a knight.
Story: Brina was born in an Ilian summer to a very loving family. Her father owned a supply company, caravanning provisions and goods. As a young child, her parents were much more nomadic, carting across the cities and meeting all manner of people. This was where her fascination of others began. Traders would pick the young child up, cooing and giving sweeties. Even as she grew older, the nuance of approaching strangers never faded. She spent much of her childhood in her fathers lap on horseback. Cherry and Rowan, her father’s pack horses, were her first true friends. She’d carry sugar cubes in her pocket and brush their coats as they gently gummed her sugary palms. After long journeys she’d untangle their gnarled manes and pat their heads, whispering child nonsense in their ears. On her 6th birthday, her mother made a powder blue cake filled with sweet dates. But Brina hated the color blue, so naturally she ran away. While her parents were doing business with the rug merchant next door, Brina snuck into the stable, dragging a heavy stool with her, and climbed onto Rowan bareback. She clenched her tiny fists into his golden mane and they flew out the city gates, galloping on the rugged road, all the while Brina laughed into the sky. She had never in her six years felt so free. Rowan stopped near a babbling brook, slowly shrugging the small child off his back. Rolling onto the soft grass, she tucked her hands beneath her head and took a nap curled around the stocky mount. Hours later, she awoke to her father’s laughter and he carried the sleepy child back home, beaming with pride.
That spring, Brina got a new baby brother, Issac, and the whole family settled down in Carrhae. It was the perfect location for a trading post and her father still made drop offs during the summer months. Initially Brina didn’t have too much trouble making friends. She’d play with the other merchant’s children and wave to them as they came into the store. Though eventually they’d all leave. Spending so much time alone on the road meant that used to sharing or giving into anyone else's way. Brina was what you might call bossy and was quite spoiled by her father. She wanted to spent all her time with the horses. They were special. On days when she could get away from the store, she’d sneak off and pester the stable boys to telling all their tricks. She'd watch them get shoed and even learned how to calm a horse during storms. The next years passed quickly as Brina spent her time in the store and learning from the stable boys.
The summer of her 11th year, Brina begged her father to take her on the trade routes. After much convincing, he caved. Brina's legs had grown strong from hours on horseback and she could easily stay in saddle for hours. They stopped at little villages and inns along the way, telling stories long into the night. She'd fall asleep listening to the sound of her father's voice murmuring tales of heroes and dragons. It was Brina's job to care for the horses and make sure they were fed, watered, and brushed. As they entered through the gates of capital, Brina was left in awe. She hadn’t remembered the walls being so high or seeing so many people in the past. What caught her eye the most however were the pegasus knights. Pegasi weren’t uncommon in Ilia, but this had been the first time she had seen them ridden, and by knights no less. As Brina stood admiring these powerful women, she heard crying coming from the alley behind her. She turned her head and saw a small boy being pushed around. She shouted and ran towards the jumble. Anger flew through her veins as she remembered all the times the kids back home that called her names. The boys turned their heads to see a little girl barreling towards them. Without thought, she outstretched her arm, her fist colliding with the soft, fleshy abdomen of the first bigger boy. Instantly they all jumped on top of her. Her hand flew up, covering her head, until the boys ran away laughing. Kicked and pummeled into a bloody mess, Brina picked herself up, brushing the snow off her shoulders. She squeezed the last of the tears out her eyes and ran over to the boy in the snowbank. Angrily he shouted at her that he didn’t need help from a girl. Brina gave a scoff, and stomped away angrily. Later when her father asked what happened Brina would him that she fell.
The next two summers, Brina continued accompanying her father. She still would scrape with those boys whenever she’d run into them. Most of the time they would win. Back at home she had been practicing by punching bales of hay. She still wasn’t very good, but she was getting better. Her 13th year on their way back home, they came across what they believed was a hunter’s camp. What the hunters were really after were pegasi. Pegasi nested high in the mountains, but would come down for a few months out of the year to give birth. The hunters were long gone when they arrived, but they had left behind a baying colt. With no pegasi nearby the foal would surely die in the coming cold. Wrapping a blanket around the colt’s outstretched wings, Brina carried him back home. No one was sure why the pegasi were taken or why they had left this little one behind. Brina named him Laurel, for luck.
Brina was inseparable from the fledgling. She nursed him and would sneak out to sleep with him in the stables. She was attached at first sight and nothing could part the two. People in Carrhae were wary. Keeping pegasus babes was seen as bad luck, less you incite the wrath of the mother. Only those trained in pegasi handling were sanctioned to touch them. So when the first thaw came, Brina and her father carted the yearling to Edessa. When they reached the castle, she was overcome with grief to part with little pegasus. Unbeknownst to her father, Brina met with a recruiter and begged them to take her and the colt together. The lady knight agreed but informed Brina that she wasn’t to ride until she had proper training as a squire. Brina’s father was crushed to hear of her decision to join, but could not deny the girl’s heart.
The very next morning Brina began her squire duties. She polished armor, cleaned boots, cared for the pegasi, and most important, trained. Because she had little fighting experience, she was behind some of the other squires. At night her bones were so weary she could barely make it into bed curling herself up in front of the fire. She learned how to properly hold a sword, the code of honor, and military tactics. It was hard work but somehow Brina believed she was right where she belonged.
