Post by Mel on Oct 11, 2011 18:48:06 GMT -6
Name: Mel Roze
Class: Recruit
Hair Color: Silver
Eye Color: Blue
Age: Sixteen or so by appearance but who can say
Appearance: From behind a quite a distance away one may by chance mistake Mel for one of the elderly by the soft shade of sliver of her hair. Though, as one venture's closer they may find that that in fact is not the case at all, in fact it is merely a gangly teenager with a foul mouth that is beating that poor man senseless with a stick not an enraged one of the elderly ranks. Then as the girl brushes by you holding that poor mangled man's purse tightly in her fist as she sprints away from the scene of the crime one my realize the oddly pointed ears she has, not one seen on a human before but then again she has not features besides them that point to anything otherwise. So you walk away too lost in though to hear the poor man's cries as you walk past continuing on the path pondering the question of race. Pausing you tilt your head slightly staring down at him. "Hush" you scold before continuing yet again settling on it must have been a horrible accident to deform one's like so.
Clothes: In the morning if she perchance did not sleep in her clothes as usual Mel will don a charcoal shaded tunic and a pair of sturdy brown leather boots over white breeches.
Born in: Bern, where exactly she is not positive or sure if it was really Bern at all
Story: Mel will begin with telling you the tale of her birth when asked about her past. She was born into a group of performers traveling over Elibe. Her actual father is not known to her or anyone, even her mother the woman who gave birth to her if that implies anything.
From the start her birth was though of as a mistake, something that should have been nipped in the bud. Though there she was, in the womb in one moment and out eyes wide open and staring around much to people's surprise the next.
The most elderly or just elders thought of her as an evil come to pass by the oddly pointed ears on the sides of her head. They senile group of gramps thought her birth foreshadowed a great evil would come to pass in the future and begged her mother to kill the newborn babe. The woman did not agree and that was the last she had heard of it until much later.
Mel grew up oppressed and abused, the target of much teasing by everyone around her for her ears calling her demon and such and throwing stones at her. Everything was blamed on her from the slightest fight to anything missing as she was known widely through the camp as the child of doom. Then bandits attacked killing them all and she stood to fight for her oppressors fending them off but all being lost as it was too late and they were slain.
Then while you wipe your tears and offer her a coin for her troubles and your pity for the poor girl with a golden heart you may notice your purse is gone, and then looking up so is she. As you dash out the door bellowing loudly for all to hear about the theft she is long gone.
Then one town over in a tavern the silver haired girl begins her story once again telling of her life as a bastard child and the pain of childhood...an obviously different recount from earlier. Then when you lean in close to listen your purse is gone along with your dignity and the cycle continues elsewhere
Class: Recruit
Hair Color: Silver
Eye Color: Blue
Age: Sixteen or so by appearance but who can say
Appearance: From behind a quite a distance away one may by chance mistake Mel for one of the elderly by the soft shade of sliver of her hair. Though, as one venture's closer they may find that that in fact is not the case at all, in fact it is merely a gangly teenager with a foul mouth that is beating that poor man senseless with a stick not an enraged one of the elderly ranks. Then as the girl brushes by you holding that poor mangled man's purse tightly in her fist as she sprints away from the scene of the crime one my realize the oddly pointed ears she has, not one seen on a human before but then again she has not features besides them that point to anything otherwise. So you walk away too lost in though to hear the poor man's cries as you walk past continuing on the path pondering the question of race. Pausing you tilt your head slightly staring down at him. "Hush" you scold before continuing yet again settling on it must have been a horrible accident to deform one's like so.
Clothes: In the morning if she perchance did not sleep in her clothes as usual Mel will don a charcoal shaded tunic and a pair of sturdy brown leather boots over white breeches.
Born in: Bern, where exactly she is not positive or sure if it was really Bern at all
Story: Mel will begin with telling you the tale of her birth when asked about her past. She was born into a group of performers traveling over Elibe. Her actual father is not known to her or anyone, even her mother the woman who gave birth to her if that implies anything.
From the start her birth was though of as a mistake, something that should have been nipped in the bud. Though there she was, in the womb in one moment and out eyes wide open and staring around much to people's surprise the next.
The most elderly or just elders thought of her as an evil come to pass by the oddly pointed ears on the sides of her head. They senile group of gramps thought her birth foreshadowed a great evil would come to pass in the future and begged her mother to kill the newborn babe. The woman did not agree and that was the last she had heard of it until much later.
Mel grew up oppressed and abused, the target of much teasing by everyone around her for her ears calling her demon and such and throwing stones at her. Everything was blamed on her from the slightest fight to anything missing as she was known widely through the camp as the child of doom. Then bandits attacked killing them all and she stood to fight for her oppressors fending them off but all being lost as it was too late and they were slain.
Then while you wipe your tears and offer her a coin for her troubles and your pity for the poor girl with a golden heart you may notice your purse is gone, and then looking up so is she. As you dash out the door bellowing loudly for all to hear about the theft she is long gone.
Then one town over in a tavern the silver haired girl begins her story once again telling of her life as a bastard child and the pain of childhood...an obviously different recount from earlier. Then when you lean in close to listen your purse is gone along with your dignity and the cycle continues elsewhere
