Zacharia
Nov 22, 2012 23:42:14 GMT -6
Post by Zacharia on Nov 22, 2012 23:42:14 GMT -6
Name: Zacharia Sjord
Class:Pupil -> Shaman -> Seer
Hair Color: Navy blue
Eye Color: Brown
Age:16 -> 18
Affinity: Thunder
Born: 1278 AS
Born In: Bern
Personality: A good-natured kid, and boringly pleasant to total strangers and life-long friends alike. But despite living in a backwater town for the latter half of life, the patriotic fervor of the Rebellion rubbed off on his mentality. He doesn't take well to Illians; believing they lie at the root of his country's current strife he's the definition of rude to anyone from the north.
His strengths don't lie within social conventions, or vocal confrontations. Curled up inside the pages of books for years on end left him at a disadvantage, both mentally and physically. Having the good sense of what and what not to do, but never the proper timing on which is appropriate makes most conversations turn awkward fast. Despite this, he's a great listener and his heart is in the right place. Ironically, it's not uncommon for him to block everything out, sit in a corner for days on end and absorb everything a textbook had to offer, and only then after getting up to eat.
Despite his diligent and modest beliefs, Zach is a show-off to the end. As a side-effect has difficulty accepting defeat or exhaustion which are both of his greatest internal struggles. Similarly, magic is the center of his life so far. Despite knowing his mediocre status is frustrated with a perceived "lack of progress" on his end. Because of this, he fears ridicule or contempt from stronger mages - or any man or woman, really - that outclass a boy like himself that just mastered the most basic parlor tricks. Perhaps this is formed out of a desire to please his role models? Giving up on magic, however, is entirely out of the question. Not once has he ever questioned his choices of study, and knows deep down that with each new experience he grows further. This includes the role of leader; his public speaking skills are lacking in refinement, but the potential for greatness is certainly there.
Appearance:
Standing a lot taller than you'd expect at 6'2 with broad shoulders and gangly limbs, Zach might've been better suited to a life of physical combat than dusty books and black magic. His eyes are bright, his eyebrows are thick, and he has a nose that tapers into a bump; though he has a pointed chin and otherwise strong facial features the student doesn't look very imposing close up. A few zits here and there, along with tiny stubble indicate, among other things, that he's still a developing teen which certainly doesn't help his image. The young man has mastered the art of "putting your hair up in a ponytail and having the little strands of hair on the sides come down", and that's the style he's rarely seen without. His hair also goes down to the middle of his shoulder blades which helps matters little as it naturally looks greasy and unkempt like a bum. Haircare's not high on his list of priorities.
He has a completely unintentional and unknown preference for greens and browns, which consists of his entire wardrobe. Zacharia also prefers thick cloaks with long pull-over hoods, which adds slightly to his intimidation factor. More often than not, a coat of his is expected to be shredded to bits or missing by the end of the month. Pointy and well-worn old man shoes and surprisingly uniform pants complete the ensemble he has going on. All in all, he looks very, very different when not wearing a cloak.
Story: Zacharia Sjord lived and breathed magic from day 1; his lineage chock full of powerful wizards and sages predictably saw him following in their footsteps. But unlike his forefathers, he never held much sway with the magics of nature or the divine powers of the church. He felt right at home with the more archaic powers that be, in fact. Like most his age, this was only discovered through sheer accident when he destroyed his crib in the middle of the night with the help of magic.
Informally conceived and born in the capital, his mother and father were forced to flee from Hargus' tyranny to protect their family. His mother was a Lieutenant, and in Zach's opinion one of Bern's finest sages, while his father was a Eliminean monk from deep in the mountains who hadn't quite gotten that chastity bit down. Other family members and close friends decided to come with them, but according to his mother all of them ultimately met their fates in the mountain ranges of Bern. From settlement to settlement the surviving trio ran, and finally found refuge in the monastery Zach's father had served for so long, miraculously. If it wasn't for his father's quick convincing of the elder monks that the mother and child were simply refugees wandering the mountains, they would've been thrown to the wind and essentially the wyverns that roamed the mountains.
Zacharia remembered very little of the five long, cold years they waited out the Bandit War, or of the constant mischief he got into with his untapped magical gifts. The entire monastery didn't take kindly to a toddler running around their solemn halls with blue-ish purple tendrils flowing out of the shadows of his feet. By the end of the war his mom had used up the last of her sway amongst the men and they were all too eager to get rid of the soldier and her "unclean" child. With every passing day their patience grew thinner and thinner. It seemed fateful that the old man would come at the time that he did.
On a cold, blustery day like any other, a decrepit old man came to the gates looking for the Sjords. He abruptly stated he was a scholar named Boryn, who had come for the two. Judging from the look on his face, it seemed to physically pain him to say so little. His arrival turned out to be the final straw, as within the hour all three were booted out without even a chance to say goodbye to the father. Boryn breathed a sigh of relief as he cut loose on why he had come for the two: he was a longtime friend of the Sjords, practically a cousin. Through the help of another, he was able to watch over the two throughout the years and when the time came, take the both of them home with him. There really was no alternative at that point, with the meager supplies they carried out they wouldn't survive the half of the journey they originally had with almost an entire caravan of horses and able-bodied family members. His mother agreed with Boryn, and before Zach could finish forming the "How will we go home?" from his lips Boryn's staff glowed a glaring red and all three of them vanished without a trace left behind.
They re-materialized in a town in Central Bern. Boryn finished explaining that he wanted to teach Zacharia the fundamentals of magic, as he had done for quite a few generations of his family. Zach was old enough to learn how to control the power that had followed him since forever, and turn it into a weapon of self-defense or a tool of great utility. His mother was all for the idea, and though the young magician was reluctant he was quickly reeled in by the prospect of greatness and power and the skill of literacy which he had yet to master from his time in the south.
It was then that the old man introduced him to the "school" in town. It was more of a library than anything else, but handfuls of mages of all shapes, sizes, and ages came from all around the east coast eager to soak up knowledge and perfect their skills. A peaceful little town like this was perfect for studying in, after all. For the next year Zach, now eight, became absorbed in the very basics of the basics. Though Boryn was true to his name, being hellish to listen to, he lost himself in the collection of textbooks and tomes. The only major roadblock in his way was Zach's total incapability of casting anything other than elder magic. He had some luck with learning about the fine art of stave magic, but ultimately Boryn decided Zacharia's talents would be wasted if he didn't learn what came to him most naturally. It was then that Zach was referred to an eccentric woman named Khayri - a friend of Boryn's who could teach what the geezer could not. So began his real studies.
He learned many things over the next eight years of his life from the woman - the proper way to cast from the Nether, the healing arts, and a technique she called scrying. None of these things he excelled at but he soaked up the knowledge like a sponge. He also learned of his mother's disappearance back into the ranks of Bern, evident when the un-read letters she had starting sending him piled so high it was impossible to miss them. And perhaps most importantly, he learned of Illia's dominance over Bern through her letters, and of the resistance constantly opposing them. Occasionally he responded back, but over time he found there was little to say between him and her besides the usual "I studied magic all month." The thoughts of Illia and of the Rebellion slowly started to plague his thoughts. This was his country, not a territory waiting to be annexed because of the grievous mistakes its former rulers made.
The years went by in a flash, and his anger at Illia started to boil over. When the letters stopped coming in, he felt that he was no longer forced to idly sit by and study in silence with Khayri over his shoulder. There was a group who felt just as strong about Illia's presence as he did - The Bernese Rebellion Movement. Ignoring his slowly declining health, he began to study harder than he ever had before. The Rebellion was perfect for a person like him, seeking to grow stronger and topple the monarchy put in place in the power vacuum. There wasn't anything he could do to convince himself otherwise - he had to join the Rebels and win back Bern. So he would bide his time and wait for the right chance to leave the school and his mentors behind. There would be time to come back properly continue his studies if they won. No, when they won.
Class:
Hair Color: Navy blue
Eye Color: Brown
Age:
Affinity: Thunder
Born: 1278 AS
Born In: Bern
Personality: A good-natured kid, and boringly pleasant to total strangers and life-long friends alike. But despite living in a backwater town for the latter half of life, the patriotic fervor of the Rebellion rubbed off on his mentality. He doesn't take well to Illians; believing they lie at the root of his country's current strife he's the definition of rude to anyone from the north.
His strengths don't lie within social conventions, or vocal confrontations. Curled up inside the pages of books for years on end left him at a disadvantage, both mentally and physically. Having the good sense of what and what not to do, but never the proper timing on which is appropriate makes most conversations turn awkward fast. Despite this, he's a great listener and his heart is in the right place. Ironically, it's not uncommon for him to block everything out, sit in a corner for days on end and absorb everything a textbook had to offer, and only then after getting up to eat.
Despite his diligent and modest beliefs, Zach is a show-off to the end. As a side-effect has difficulty accepting defeat or exhaustion which are both of his greatest internal struggles. Similarly, magic is the center of his life so far. Despite knowing his mediocre status is frustrated with a perceived "lack of progress" on his end. Because of this, he fears ridicule or contempt from stronger mages - or any man or woman, really - that outclass a boy like himself that just mastered the most basic parlor tricks. Perhaps this is formed out of a desire to please his role models? Giving up on magic, however, is entirely out of the question. Not once has he ever questioned his choices of study, and knows deep down that with each new experience he grows further. This includes the role of leader; his public speaking skills are lacking in refinement, but the potential for greatness is certainly there.
Appearance:
Standing a lot taller than you'd expect at 6'2 with broad shoulders and gangly limbs, Zach might've been better suited to a life of physical combat than dusty books and black magic. His eyes are bright, his eyebrows are thick, and he has a nose that tapers into a bump; though he has a pointed chin and otherwise strong facial features the student doesn't look very imposing close up. A few zits here and there, along with tiny stubble indicate, among other things, that he's still a developing teen which certainly doesn't help his image. The young man has mastered the art of "putting your hair up in a ponytail and having the little strands of hair on the sides come down", and that's the style he's rarely seen without. His hair also goes down to the middle of his shoulder blades which helps matters little as it naturally looks greasy and unkempt like a bum. Haircare's not high on his list of priorities.
He has a completely unintentional and unknown preference for greens and browns, which consists of his entire wardrobe. Zacharia also prefers thick cloaks with long pull-over hoods, which adds slightly to his intimidation factor. More often than not, a coat of his is expected to be shredded to bits or missing by the end of the month. Pointy and well-worn old man shoes and surprisingly uniform pants complete the ensemble he has going on. All in all, he looks very, very different when not wearing a cloak.
Story: Zacharia Sjord lived and breathed magic from day 1; his lineage chock full of powerful wizards and sages predictably saw him following in their footsteps. But unlike his forefathers, he never held much sway with the magics of nature or the divine powers of the church. He felt right at home with the more archaic powers that be, in fact. Like most his age, this was only discovered through sheer accident when he destroyed his crib in the middle of the night with the help of magic.
Informally conceived and born in the capital, his mother and father were forced to flee from Hargus' tyranny to protect their family. His mother was a Lieutenant, and in Zach's opinion one of Bern's finest sages, while his father was a Eliminean monk from deep in the mountains who hadn't quite gotten that chastity bit down. Other family members and close friends decided to come with them, but according to his mother all of them ultimately met their fates in the mountain ranges of Bern. From settlement to settlement the surviving trio ran, and finally found refuge in the monastery Zach's father had served for so long, miraculously. If it wasn't for his father's quick convincing of the elder monks that the mother and child were simply refugees wandering the mountains, they would've been thrown to the wind and essentially the wyverns that roamed the mountains.
Zacharia remembered very little of the five long, cold years they waited out the Bandit War, or of the constant mischief he got into with his untapped magical gifts. The entire monastery didn't take kindly to a toddler running around their solemn halls with blue-ish purple tendrils flowing out of the shadows of his feet. By the end of the war his mom had used up the last of her sway amongst the men and they were all too eager to get rid of the soldier and her "unclean" child. With every passing day their patience grew thinner and thinner. It seemed fateful that the old man would come at the time that he did.
On a cold, blustery day like any other, a decrepit old man came to the gates looking for the Sjords. He abruptly stated he was a scholar named Boryn, who had come for the two. Judging from the look on his face, it seemed to physically pain him to say so little. His arrival turned out to be the final straw, as within the hour all three were booted out without even a chance to say goodbye to the father. Boryn breathed a sigh of relief as he cut loose on why he had come for the two: he was a longtime friend of the Sjords, practically a cousin. Through the help of another, he was able to watch over the two throughout the years and when the time came, take the both of them home with him. There really was no alternative at that point, with the meager supplies they carried out they wouldn't survive the half of the journey they originally had with almost an entire caravan of horses and able-bodied family members. His mother agreed with Boryn, and before Zach could finish forming the "How will we go home?" from his lips Boryn's staff glowed a glaring red and all three of them vanished without a trace left behind.
They re-materialized in a town in Central Bern. Boryn finished explaining that he wanted to teach Zacharia the fundamentals of magic, as he had done for quite a few generations of his family. Zach was old enough to learn how to control the power that had followed him since forever, and turn it into a weapon of self-defense or a tool of great utility. His mother was all for the idea, and though the young magician was reluctant he was quickly reeled in by the prospect of greatness and power and the skill of literacy which he had yet to master from his time in the south.
It was then that the old man introduced him to the "school" in town. It was more of a library than anything else, but handfuls of mages of all shapes, sizes, and ages came from all around the east coast eager to soak up knowledge and perfect their skills. A peaceful little town like this was perfect for studying in, after all. For the next year Zach, now eight, became absorbed in the very basics of the basics. Though Boryn was true to his name, being hellish to listen to, he lost himself in the collection of textbooks and tomes. The only major roadblock in his way was Zach's total incapability of casting anything other than elder magic. He had some luck with learning about the fine art of stave magic, but ultimately Boryn decided Zacharia's talents would be wasted if he didn't learn what came to him most naturally. It was then that Zach was referred to an eccentric woman named Khayri - a friend of Boryn's who could teach what the geezer could not. So began his real studies.
He learned many things over the next eight years of his life from the woman - the proper way to cast from the Nether, the healing arts, and a technique she called scrying. None of these things he excelled at but he soaked up the knowledge like a sponge. He also learned of his mother's disappearance back into the ranks of Bern, evident when the un-read letters she had starting sending him piled so high it was impossible to miss them. And perhaps most importantly, he learned of Illia's dominance over Bern through her letters, and of the resistance constantly opposing them. Occasionally he responded back, but over time he found there was little to say between him and her besides the usual "I studied magic all month." The thoughts of Illia and of the Rebellion slowly started to plague his thoughts. This was his country, not a territory waiting to be annexed because of the grievous mistakes its former rulers made.
The years went by in a flash, and his anger at Illia started to boil over. When the letters stopped coming in, he felt that he was no longer forced to idly sit by and study in silence with Khayri over his shoulder. There was a group who felt just as strong about Illia's presence as he did - The Bernese Rebellion Movement. Ignoring his slowly declining health, he began to study harder than he ever had before. The Rebellion was perfect for a person like him, seeking to grow stronger and topple the monarchy put in place in the power vacuum. There wasn't anything he could do to convince himself otherwise - he had to join the Rebels and win back Bern. So he would bide his time and wait for the right chance to leave the school and his mentors behind. There would be time to come back properly continue his studies if they won. No, when they won.