Post by Cynan on May 5, 2018 11:44:20 GMT -6
Name: Cynan
Class: Thief
Age: 16
Born in: Santaruz
Appearance: A pale young man of slight build and arguably average height- standing at around 5'8". As a consequence of a life of poor diet and malnutrition, it would be laughable to describe him as a burly brawler, or physical powerhouse, rather, he is scrawny and not muscular. His body is slim with a lack of serious muscles, however, this does not make him lethargic; he is merely built to rely more on speed and stamina, leading him to be a more nimble and agile fighter rather than relying on brute strength. He'd definitely be more suited for a quick retreat than a duel. Messy, dark blonde hair sprouts from his head, curling and hinting at laziness and ignorance due to it being cut short once yet now looking unkempt and tangled, yet is is contrasted by sharp blue eyes which seem to contain intelligence that breaks the appearance of slothfulness and stupidity. His attire is stereotypical for a thief; he drapes a green cloak around himself, which hangs loosely and has the coloration of dark grass. His boots and shirt are a plain brown colour, with his light grey trousers following the murky motif of his outfit. His default expression is that of bitterness, making him appear both untrustworthy and uncharismatic.
Personality: A life of misfortune and consistent failures has taken it's toll on the boy, resulting in a severe lack of enthusiasm or hopefulness for things ever getting better. His general attitude is that of apathy, and his attitude towards conflict borders on cowardice; he would much rather avoid fighting by any means, and would be much more likely to simply flee should a plan fail, rather than fight heroically to see it through. The source of his affinity for avoiding conflict may stem from a lack of faith in himself rather than a desire for pacifism, as he acknowledges how little he can actually do to change the world around him, because of both his lack of physical strength and low standing in society. However, this tendency towards flight responses has given him a talent for quickly calculating new methods of attack, should the issue he faces be truly unavoidable. This doesn't mean that he doesn't know when he has no chance of victory though, as he is smart enough to know when to drop a cause in order to survive. Obviously, as a thief, him stealing would be expected, and it's true that he has done it and consistently does it to survive, although unlike most thieves and lowlives, he feels remorse for his actions and will only strike and steal from those who his mind can warp into fitting the criteria of "deserving it". What this truly means is unclear, and a mystery even to him, but he would never make children or the desolately poor his victims.
When it comes to his attitudes towards others, he can come across as disloyal and uncaring to most, which is unsurprising due to his profession of being a common thief. In actuality, he rarely tries to trick or manipulate people he meets, and unknowingly makes an effort to gain genuine trust and friendship, although the effectiveness of the attempts is dubious at best. However, despite his apathy, should he ever come into a situation where an ally he trusts - or even someone he deems as totally innocent - is in danger, what little virtuous traits he has will shine through as he attempts to save them, because he is not immune to the guilt or regret that comes alongside letting others down or seeing the innocent perish, despite how much he'd deny that fact. In all honesty, heroic impulses are not absent from the boy, just severely shrouded in a cloak of self-doubt and a lack of trust. Perhaps in a different life, these could have shone through, and moulded him into an actual hero?
History: Cynan's short life has been spattered in misfortune and despair, which directly leads onto his grim outlook on the world. Born into poverty in the slums of Santaruz, from his birth it was clear that he'd never be a nobleman or be blessed with bountiful fortunes. His father was a deadbeat drunk who had vanished from his life shortly after his birth, although that may have been a benefit in some ways, as his mother had told him tales of his birth father being a violent mercenary, who was devoid of a moral compass and whom she feared to leave due to the potential of violence coming to her or her only son, Cynan. His father's absence due to not wanting to be anchored down by a child already left Cynan with a bad start, as it was almost assured that he would never rise out of poverty with only his mother. He knew his mother for the first eight years of his life, and cared deeply for her as any child would, although she deserved the affection due to her spending whatever small funds she raised from her job of cleaning clothes towards feeding and getting her son a tutor who could teach him literacy in a desperate attempt to grant him a better life, but dangerously overworking herself to the extent of causing grievous harm to her health.
Cynan despised his tutor. The cruel woman would act as both a "carer" and "teacher" whilst his mother worked, although she was laughably bad at both. Sure, Cynan learned how to read and write, but these achievements were gained through countless beatings and beratings, as his tutor did not see the child as important and considered it a waste of time to even teach such a boorish peasant how to read. Knowing how much his mother wanted him to succeed, the young Cynan bottled these experiences and pushed forwards, still having hope for the future yet retaining a severe lack of trust towards others due to how cruel he knew they could be.
Hope was fleeting however, as at just eight years old he watched his mother grow evermore sickly and slowly wither away, eventually dying from exhaustion and sickness. Cynan had watched his mother's final moments, looking on in despair-inducing sadness, as the life drained from her eyes, and her weak smile turned into a grimace of death. The shack that he had called home with his mother was quickly seized, and Cynan found himself on the streets, utterly defenseless. His life took a darker turn, as he resorted to stealing from shopkeepers and begging for money to keep himself alive, desperately clinging to the idea that hope would bring him salvation, and that things would get better. However, a hole inside him had been filtering out his hope, and letting emptiness in. At the age of ten, Cynan had been adopted into a gang of lowlives and was further mistreated, being beaten and serving as an errand boy in exchange for food and shelter.
It was likely that he would've remained there for the rest of his life, but at the age of fourteen he was subjected to an experience that left him running in fear. The bandits he lived with had brought him along for a raid, having needed the extra manpower due to them losing a number of men to a recent string of arrests by city guards. He had been told that the person living in the house was a noble who lived in luxury whilst people like him suffered, and he was strictly ordered to remain outside and keep a watch for guards. However, childish curiosity had not yet been entirely drained from the boy, and he wondered just who the evil figure who hoarded such wealth was. He ventured up the stairs of the house, and watched in horror as he saw a scene that shook him to his core; a woman lay dismembered across the room, and he had arrived just in time to see the leader of the gang he was in plunge a dagger into the throat of a child younger than himself. Cynan wanted to scream - he wanted to vomit - but he drew his sword, wanting to be the hero that could save the child, who was obviously already in the embrace of death. His "heroic stand" did not last long; he was backhanded and pushed through the window of the house, plummeting to the street below.
He limped away, teeth gritted and tears streaming down his face, retreating - because he knew it was all he could do. That marked the end of his heroic and naive nature as he travelled alone, his personality warping to become the apathetic, untrusting and self-doubting thief that he is in the present. Although, an ember of courage may yet still burn inside him.
NPC fight: Cynan knew he had made a major error somewhere, as the daunting figure approached him, wielding a sword. "I wager a strong gust o' wind would do you in, mate." the bandit closes the distance between them, making taunting gestures at the thief, as it becomes ever more clear that the encounter could only end in violence. Cynan's eyes dart back and forth, wondering if there's still a potential for escape, yet he severely doubted it, and was almost certain that the bandit would not cease pursuing him. A whoosh of air strikes the boy, as the bandit brings his sword down on him. Acting purely on instinct, Cynan raises his sword to deflect the blow, buckling as he feels vibrations run up his arm. "It doesn't have to be like this, this is pointless!" Cynan trembles as he shouts at the man, sweat dripping down his forehead as he becomes uncertain as to whether or not he'll survive this - he didn't even want this fight to begin with. The bandit, being physically stronger than the thief, swings his sword to the right in a crushing blow, attempting to cleave the thief in half.
Fortunately, Cynan realises that it would be futile to block such an attack, and opts to jump backwards, getting away from the brutal power of his enemy's weapon. The bandit, having put all of his weight into the swing, stumbles forward. Cynan, spotting the moment of weakness, uses his agility to dash forward and quickly swipe at the bandit's neck. Blood spurts from the man, as he drops to his knees, clutching his throat before expiring. The thief attempts to sheathe his blade, unknowingly trembling slightly from the near-death experience. "...Probably should've just run."
PC fight: The thief dives to the side, the thunderous crash of lightning magic flying past him. He stares at his adversary, unsure if she meant to kill him or scare him off, although considering she just threw lightning at him, it was probably the former. "Look, surely you don't need ALL of those necklaces, right!? There are people who could benefit from the coin I get from them!" Cynan had made up his mind, this mage was pompous and childish, she had no idea how greedy she was being, and her fortunes marked her as a target that "deserved" to lose something, in his eyes. After all, what use could the necklace possibly have other than being purely for vanity purposes? He gets to his feet, knowing that he'll have to at least try to disarm her, although he's not exactly sure how... does he need to cut the book in half? Fighting mages isn't exactly a common occurrence for him.
"Look, if you're going to be like that, and won't let me leave... I'll just end this fight." The thief dashes at the mage, desperately attempting to reach her and cleave her thunder tome in half before she has a chance to cast another spell and leave him as a frazzled corpse. Fighting definitely isn't in his nature, but it seems at times that it's unavoidable. He rapidly closes the distance and prepares his sword to strike, carefully trying to determine if she can cast a spell in time. He swings his sword upwards, in an attempt to destroy the tome.
Class: Thief
Age: 16
Born in: Santaruz
Appearance: A pale young man of slight build and arguably average height- standing at around 5'8". As a consequence of a life of poor diet and malnutrition, it would be laughable to describe him as a burly brawler, or physical powerhouse, rather, he is scrawny and not muscular. His body is slim with a lack of serious muscles, however, this does not make him lethargic; he is merely built to rely more on speed and stamina, leading him to be a more nimble and agile fighter rather than relying on brute strength. He'd definitely be more suited for a quick retreat than a duel. Messy, dark blonde hair sprouts from his head, curling and hinting at laziness and ignorance due to it being cut short once yet now looking unkempt and tangled, yet is is contrasted by sharp blue eyes which seem to contain intelligence that breaks the appearance of slothfulness and stupidity. His attire is stereotypical for a thief; he drapes a green cloak around himself, which hangs loosely and has the coloration of dark grass. His boots and shirt are a plain brown colour, with his light grey trousers following the murky motif of his outfit. His default expression is that of bitterness, making him appear both untrustworthy and uncharismatic.
Personality: A life of misfortune and consistent failures has taken it's toll on the boy, resulting in a severe lack of enthusiasm or hopefulness for things ever getting better. His general attitude is that of apathy, and his attitude towards conflict borders on cowardice; he would much rather avoid fighting by any means, and would be much more likely to simply flee should a plan fail, rather than fight heroically to see it through. The source of his affinity for avoiding conflict may stem from a lack of faith in himself rather than a desire for pacifism, as he acknowledges how little he can actually do to change the world around him, because of both his lack of physical strength and low standing in society. However, this tendency towards flight responses has given him a talent for quickly calculating new methods of attack, should the issue he faces be truly unavoidable. This doesn't mean that he doesn't know when he has no chance of victory though, as he is smart enough to know when to drop a cause in order to survive. Obviously, as a thief, him stealing would be expected, and it's true that he has done it and consistently does it to survive, although unlike most thieves and lowlives, he feels remorse for his actions and will only strike and steal from those who his mind can warp into fitting the criteria of "deserving it". What this truly means is unclear, and a mystery even to him, but he would never make children or the desolately poor his victims.
When it comes to his attitudes towards others, he can come across as disloyal and uncaring to most, which is unsurprising due to his profession of being a common thief. In actuality, he rarely tries to trick or manipulate people he meets, and unknowingly makes an effort to gain genuine trust and friendship, although the effectiveness of the attempts is dubious at best. However, despite his apathy, should he ever come into a situation where an ally he trusts - or even someone he deems as totally innocent - is in danger, what little virtuous traits he has will shine through as he attempts to save them, because he is not immune to the guilt or regret that comes alongside letting others down or seeing the innocent perish, despite how much he'd deny that fact. In all honesty, heroic impulses are not absent from the boy, just severely shrouded in a cloak of self-doubt and a lack of trust. Perhaps in a different life, these could have shone through, and moulded him into an actual hero?
History: Cynan's short life has been spattered in misfortune and despair, which directly leads onto his grim outlook on the world. Born into poverty in the slums of Santaruz, from his birth it was clear that he'd never be a nobleman or be blessed with bountiful fortunes. His father was a deadbeat drunk who had vanished from his life shortly after his birth, although that may have been a benefit in some ways, as his mother had told him tales of his birth father being a violent mercenary, who was devoid of a moral compass and whom she feared to leave due to the potential of violence coming to her or her only son, Cynan. His father's absence due to not wanting to be anchored down by a child already left Cynan with a bad start, as it was almost assured that he would never rise out of poverty with only his mother. He knew his mother for the first eight years of his life, and cared deeply for her as any child would, although she deserved the affection due to her spending whatever small funds she raised from her job of cleaning clothes towards feeding and getting her son a tutor who could teach him literacy in a desperate attempt to grant him a better life, but dangerously overworking herself to the extent of causing grievous harm to her health.
Cynan despised his tutor. The cruel woman would act as both a "carer" and "teacher" whilst his mother worked, although she was laughably bad at both. Sure, Cynan learned how to read and write, but these achievements were gained through countless beatings and beratings, as his tutor did not see the child as important and considered it a waste of time to even teach such a boorish peasant how to read. Knowing how much his mother wanted him to succeed, the young Cynan bottled these experiences and pushed forwards, still having hope for the future yet retaining a severe lack of trust towards others due to how cruel he knew they could be.
Hope was fleeting however, as at just eight years old he watched his mother grow evermore sickly and slowly wither away, eventually dying from exhaustion and sickness. Cynan had watched his mother's final moments, looking on in despair-inducing sadness, as the life drained from her eyes, and her weak smile turned into a grimace of death. The shack that he had called home with his mother was quickly seized, and Cynan found himself on the streets, utterly defenseless. His life took a darker turn, as he resorted to stealing from shopkeepers and begging for money to keep himself alive, desperately clinging to the idea that hope would bring him salvation, and that things would get better. However, a hole inside him had been filtering out his hope, and letting emptiness in. At the age of ten, Cynan had been adopted into a gang of lowlives and was further mistreated, being beaten and serving as an errand boy in exchange for food and shelter.
It was likely that he would've remained there for the rest of his life, but at the age of fourteen he was subjected to an experience that left him running in fear. The bandits he lived with had brought him along for a raid, having needed the extra manpower due to them losing a number of men to a recent string of arrests by city guards. He had been told that the person living in the house was a noble who lived in luxury whilst people like him suffered, and he was strictly ordered to remain outside and keep a watch for guards. However, childish curiosity had not yet been entirely drained from the boy, and he wondered just who the evil figure who hoarded such wealth was. He ventured up the stairs of the house, and watched in horror as he saw a scene that shook him to his core; a woman lay dismembered across the room, and he had arrived just in time to see the leader of the gang he was in plunge a dagger into the throat of a child younger than himself. Cynan wanted to scream - he wanted to vomit - but he drew his sword, wanting to be the hero that could save the child, who was obviously already in the embrace of death. His "heroic stand" did not last long; he was backhanded and pushed through the window of the house, plummeting to the street below.
He limped away, teeth gritted and tears streaming down his face, retreating - because he knew it was all he could do. That marked the end of his heroic and naive nature as he travelled alone, his personality warping to become the apathetic, untrusting and self-doubting thief that he is in the present. Although, an ember of courage may yet still burn inside him.
NPC fight: Cynan knew he had made a major error somewhere, as the daunting figure approached him, wielding a sword. "I wager a strong gust o' wind would do you in, mate." the bandit closes the distance between them, making taunting gestures at the thief, as it becomes ever more clear that the encounter could only end in violence. Cynan's eyes dart back and forth, wondering if there's still a potential for escape, yet he severely doubted it, and was almost certain that the bandit would not cease pursuing him. A whoosh of air strikes the boy, as the bandit brings his sword down on him. Acting purely on instinct, Cynan raises his sword to deflect the blow, buckling as he feels vibrations run up his arm. "It doesn't have to be like this, this is pointless!" Cynan trembles as he shouts at the man, sweat dripping down his forehead as he becomes uncertain as to whether or not he'll survive this - he didn't even want this fight to begin with. The bandit, being physically stronger than the thief, swings his sword to the right in a crushing blow, attempting to cleave the thief in half.
Fortunately, Cynan realises that it would be futile to block such an attack, and opts to jump backwards, getting away from the brutal power of his enemy's weapon. The bandit, having put all of his weight into the swing, stumbles forward. Cynan, spotting the moment of weakness, uses his agility to dash forward and quickly swipe at the bandit's neck. Blood spurts from the man, as he drops to his knees, clutching his throat before expiring. The thief attempts to sheathe his blade, unknowingly trembling slightly from the near-death experience. "...Probably should've just run."
PC fight: The thief dives to the side, the thunderous crash of lightning magic flying past him. He stares at his adversary, unsure if she meant to kill him or scare him off, although considering she just threw lightning at him, it was probably the former. "Look, surely you don't need ALL of those necklaces, right!? There are people who could benefit from the coin I get from them!" Cynan had made up his mind, this mage was pompous and childish, she had no idea how greedy she was being, and her fortunes marked her as a target that "deserved" to lose something, in his eyes. After all, what use could the necklace possibly have other than being purely for vanity purposes? He gets to his feet, knowing that he'll have to at least try to disarm her, although he's not exactly sure how... does he need to cut the book in half? Fighting mages isn't exactly a common occurrence for him.
"Look, if you're going to be like that, and won't let me leave... I'll just end this fight." The thief dashes at the mage, desperately attempting to reach her and cleave her thunder tome in half before she has a chance to cast another spell and leave him as a frazzled corpse. Fighting definitely isn't in his nature, but it seems at times that it's unavoidable. He rapidly closes the distance and prepares his sword to strike, carefully trying to determine if she can cast a spell in time. He swings his sword upwards, in an attempt to destroy the tome.
