Post by Carsaib on Feb 5, 2007 21:49:06 GMT -5
Your Name:
Carsaib
Other Characters RPed on DRA:
Durza
Character:
Name:
Xepte Xamec (Pronounced: Scept¬ei Samek)
Age:
(Looks)45
(Actual)124
Gender:
Male
Race:
Human
Allegiance:
Anyone except the king...
Description:
Xepte is tall, with long black hair that he keeps up in a ponytail. While traveling, he wears a black jerkin, a long black cloak, thin leather gloves, black pants, and a hooded cowl that covers the lower half of his face. When staying in a city, he usually doffs his black jerkin, preferring just a cotton shirt with mail beneath it. He carries with him a long, lance-like Halberd, the tip of which extends past the points of the axe part. His eyes are a vibrant orange, and his left eye is flecked with silver.
Personality:
He can be quite loyal, but if nobody can stand looking at him with respect for more than a few seconds, then he will not be to inclined to be kind. He can be quite the hothead and his Brash self confidence can get him into some sticky situations. When a person gains his respect and friendship, Xepte becomes fiercely loyal in return, and when a friend is in danger, he often whirls into action. He loves to spar, as it not only sharpens his skills, but it gives him bragging rights. For the time being however, he acts as an old blind beggar, as he is waiting to be away from Brom before using his mental webs.
History:
Xepte was born to an upper-middle class blacksmithing family in Terim, the oldest of five siblings. At a very young age, he showed a very big interest in lances and battleaxes, often finding one in his house and spinning it experimentally, then breaking something of minor value, resulting in a punishment.
When not breaking things in his house, he would watch the men at the local training grounds, watching how they moved, and often trying to go out and join them. He was always refused, as he was too young. Yet, he tried again and again, always hopeful that they would let him in.
He didn’t gain permission to enter the training grounds until he was about 15, and by then, he had persuaded his father to make him a simple halberd that he could use. He quickly learned that fighting was fun, and his visits to the training grounds became pretty much daily. It was like this until one day, when a strange convoy visited the town.
The caravan was from the capitol, and was made up of elves and Humans alike. Xepte, now 21, was given the day off of work, as he had begged his father to allow him to go and see it. He approached curiously, watching what was going on. The other people in the town were parading by, touching a large oval like... egg shaped object. Overcome with curiosity, he joined the line, eager with anticipation. When he reached the stone, a tired looking elf, nodded, his voice laden with something hidden. “Touch it lad, it might hatch for you.” Xepte looked at the man quizzically, but reached out to touch it anyways.
The stone was a cool, silver-platinum, something. Not even Xepte could discern what it was, and he had experience with both ores and gemstones, what with his dealings with Dwarven merchants and mining in the Spine. This stone was like nothing he had ever seen in his life, what with the dark black veins running through it, and the way it seemed to have a life of its own. His curiosity intensified as his hand neared it, as he felt a small tingle of electricity pass through him from the stone. Cautiously, he brought his hand back, but only for a second, as his curiosity, and something he couldn’t identify were telling him to reach out and touch it.
The instant his finger touched it, a fracture ran along one of the beautiful veins. Xepte retracted his arm, looking concerned, but the Elven man standing watch over the stone clapped with joy. “It has chosen!” at his words, two men and an elf ran out from the caravan behind the stone, talking in a language that Xepte couldn’t catch or understand. Eventually, one of the humans stopped talking, noticing Xepte’s confused expression. He smiled and said “We’ll send for you in a bit. Go home and Prepare for the journey of a lifetime.” Still confused, Xepte asked what was happening, what he had done. The man laughed and replied that the stone that Xepte had just touched was a dragon egg, and it had selected him as its rider.
Xepte stood, looking amazed, and he slowly made his way home.
Once home, his parents immediately knew something was up, and pressed him. When he revealed what had happened, they were overjoyed. His mother and siblings were anyways, but his father had a questioning look on his face. He inquired if the fact that his son was becoming a rider meant that e was to forget his family. Xepte hadn’t thought of that, but had no time, as an elf and the younger men who said that they would send for him had arrived.
They brought him to the capitol to await the hatching of his dragon and the beginning of his training, which was largely un-eventful. He wrote home once a week at first, but eventually, he stopped receiving letters back, so he stopped sending them. The day he finished training, he and his dragon, Mithril, set out to explore the lands east of the Hadarac.
His explorations While he was exploring, he missed the beginning of the fall, and returned in the middle of it, and at the battle of Doru Areaba, he had joined the ranks of elves and riders, but was defeated, and his dragon was executed before his eyes.
Instead of dieing, or going insane however, he became blind. This was not noticed by him however, as he was in such a shock that he seemed to be insane. The Forsworn, satisfied that he could no longer be of harm, drugged him, destroyed his sword, and deposited him deep in the Urgal territories.
He wandered for a while, lost in his terror and misery. During this period of his life, he was very unstable, almost bi-polar, as his attitude would change with a thought. He would often ‘wake up’ in the middle of a tussle, and dispatch his opponent with some simple magic.
After about a decade of wandering blindly, his rider training began to return in full. Not so much the history, but more his awareness and abilities. At first, he only projected his mind in front of him, as his memory was still foggy and muddled. Over the years, as the events of the outside world, like the stealing of the egg, and the death of all forsworn passed unnoticed to him, he wandered, honing his skills and healing his mental wounds. His sight never returned however, and by the time his mind returned to normal, he began to seek the way out of the Urgal territories.
Now his mental awareness had changed from just a forward projection to the full circle projection that a trained rider uses. He used this projection to find his way to the spine, finding enough food to sustain himself on the way. His clothes were ragged and torn by the time he had found his way into Carvahall, but he didn’t care, and began to learn what was new. At this time, he felt Brom’s presence, and, from fear of being discovered, shut his projection off, living like a normal, blind beggar.
He learned of the Egg that had been stolen from Galbatorix when it arrived in the village along with Eragon. He had sensed the egg as it came down the mountains, and had wondered why it was being carried by a person who had the intention to sell it. He was about to give the boy an inquiry, but remembered that he was supposed to be blind, and remained silent as Eragon passed.
Family:
Deceased
Other:
Xepte is blind, and he relies on his mental web to show him where his opponent is and what he is fighting.
While in the wilderness, he used magic to construct a halberd, using the blacksmith abilities that he had learned over a hundred years beforehand. The halberd was surprisingly good, only because it was made through magic. Unfortunately, it was made from scavenged materials, and is only a temporary weapon. Currently, it is hidden in the outskirts of The Spine, protected by a magic ward.
Rp Sample:
Xepte was walking through the forest, carefully picking his way along. His sightless eyes roved in their sockets behind the strip of silk that covered his eyes, but he still knew exactly where he was headed. The path he was traveling wasn’t really a path, but more of a memory, as he was headed for the hiding spot of his Halberd.
The wards around it showed up in his mental scan before they were ‘seen’, and as he approached, he lowered them. Picking the simple yet formidable weapon, he swung it around a bit, seeing if it had fallen apart in his absence. Its swing had an abnormality, and when he inspected it carefully with his hands, he felt the chunk of edge that was missing. Sighing, he let his hand loosely slide down the blade, and received a nice slice as he did so. A sharp intake of breath betrayed his pain, nothing more.
Mentally examining the slice, and seeing that it wasn’t too bad and didn’t sever any important connections, he decided to wait to ask the one called Gertrude to heal it.
That of course, would come after he had spoken with the large blacksmith, the one named Horst. This horst had shown a small interest when Xepte had talked of ‘the weapon he found in the woods’, or his halberd. He never let on that it was his however, and he wanted the master craftsman to look it over and maybe even make a new one. Xepte had no money though, and knew full well that he’d have to pay somehow. Maybe... once Brom leaves, I’ll have a chance to prove my worth... Maybe...
Codeword:
Pomnuria
Carsaib
Other Characters RPed on DRA:
Durza
Character:
Name:
Xepte Xamec (Pronounced: Scept¬ei Samek)
Age:
(Looks)45
(Actual)124
Gender:
Male
Race:
Human
Allegiance:
Anyone except the king...
Description:
Xepte is tall, with long black hair that he keeps up in a ponytail. While traveling, he wears a black jerkin, a long black cloak, thin leather gloves, black pants, and a hooded cowl that covers the lower half of his face. When staying in a city, he usually doffs his black jerkin, preferring just a cotton shirt with mail beneath it. He carries with him a long, lance-like Halberd, the tip of which extends past the points of the axe part. His eyes are a vibrant orange, and his left eye is flecked with silver.
Personality:
He can be quite loyal, but if nobody can stand looking at him with respect for more than a few seconds, then he will not be to inclined to be kind. He can be quite the hothead and his Brash self confidence can get him into some sticky situations. When a person gains his respect and friendship, Xepte becomes fiercely loyal in return, and when a friend is in danger, he often whirls into action. He loves to spar, as it not only sharpens his skills, but it gives him bragging rights. For the time being however, he acts as an old blind beggar, as he is waiting to be away from Brom before using his mental webs.
History:
Xepte was born to an upper-middle class blacksmithing family in Terim, the oldest of five siblings. At a very young age, he showed a very big interest in lances and battleaxes, often finding one in his house and spinning it experimentally, then breaking something of minor value, resulting in a punishment.
When not breaking things in his house, he would watch the men at the local training grounds, watching how they moved, and often trying to go out and join them. He was always refused, as he was too young. Yet, he tried again and again, always hopeful that they would let him in.
He didn’t gain permission to enter the training grounds until he was about 15, and by then, he had persuaded his father to make him a simple halberd that he could use. He quickly learned that fighting was fun, and his visits to the training grounds became pretty much daily. It was like this until one day, when a strange convoy visited the town.
The caravan was from the capitol, and was made up of elves and Humans alike. Xepte, now 21, was given the day off of work, as he had begged his father to allow him to go and see it. He approached curiously, watching what was going on. The other people in the town were parading by, touching a large oval like... egg shaped object. Overcome with curiosity, he joined the line, eager with anticipation. When he reached the stone, a tired looking elf, nodded, his voice laden with something hidden. “Touch it lad, it might hatch for you.” Xepte looked at the man quizzically, but reached out to touch it anyways.
The stone was a cool, silver-platinum, something. Not even Xepte could discern what it was, and he had experience with both ores and gemstones, what with his dealings with Dwarven merchants and mining in the Spine. This stone was like nothing he had ever seen in his life, what with the dark black veins running through it, and the way it seemed to have a life of its own. His curiosity intensified as his hand neared it, as he felt a small tingle of electricity pass through him from the stone. Cautiously, he brought his hand back, but only for a second, as his curiosity, and something he couldn’t identify were telling him to reach out and touch it.
The instant his finger touched it, a fracture ran along one of the beautiful veins. Xepte retracted his arm, looking concerned, but the Elven man standing watch over the stone clapped with joy. “It has chosen!” at his words, two men and an elf ran out from the caravan behind the stone, talking in a language that Xepte couldn’t catch or understand. Eventually, one of the humans stopped talking, noticing Xepte’s confused expression. He smiled and said “We’ll send for you in a bit. Go home and Prepare for the journey of a lifetime.” Still confused, Xepte asked what was happening, what he had done. The man laughed and replied that the stone that Xepte had just touched was a dragon egg, and it had selected him as its rider.
Xepte stood, looking amazed, and he slowly made his way home.
Once home, his parents immediately knew something was up, and pressed him. When he revealed what had happened, they were overjoyed. His mother and siblings were anyways, but his father had a questioning look on his face. He inquired if the fact that his son was becoming a rider meant that e was to forget his family. Xepte hadn’t thought of that, but had no time, as an elf and the younger men who said that they would send for him had arrived.
They brought him to the capitol to await the hatching of his dragon and the beginning of his training, which was largely un-eventful. He wrote home once a week at first, but eventually, he stopped receiving letters back, so he stopped sending them. The day he finished training, he and his dragon, Mithril, set out to explore the lands east of the Hadarac.
His explorations While he was exploring, he missed the beginning of the fall, and returned in the middle of it, and at the battle of Doru Areaba, he had joined the ranks of elves and riders, but was defeated, and his dragon was executed before his eyes.
Instead of dieing, or going insane however, he became blind. This was not noticed by him however, as he was in such a shock that he seemed to be insane. The Forsworn, satisfied that he could no longer be of harm, drugged him, destroyed his sword, and deposited him deep in the Urgal territories.
He wandered for a while, lost in his terror and misery. During this period of his life, he was very unstable, almost bi-polar, as his attitude would change with a thought. He would often ‘wake up’ in the middle of a tussle, and dispatch his opponent with some simple magic.
After about a decade of wandering blindly, his rider training began to return in full. Not so much the history, but more his awareness and abilities. At first, he only projected his mind in front of him, as his memory was still foggy and muddled. Over the years, as the events of the outside world, like the stealing of the egg, and the death of all forsworn passed unnoticed to him, he wandered, honing his skills and healing his mental wounds. His sight never returned however, and by the time his mind returned to normal, he began to seek the way out of the Urgal territories.
Now his mental awareness had changed from just a forward projection to the full circle projection that a trained rider uses. He used this projection to find his way to the spine, finding enough food to sustain himself on the way. His clothes were ragged and torn by the time he had found his way into Carvahall, but he didn’t care, and began to learn what was new. At this time, he felt Brom’s presence, and, from fear of being discovered, shut his projection off, living like a normal, blind beggar.
He learned of the Egg that had been stolen from Galbatorix when it arrived in the village along with Eragon. He had sensed the egg as it came down the mountains, and had wondered why it was being carried by a person who had the intention to sell it. He was about to give the boy an inquiry, but remembered that he was supposed to be blind, and remained silent as Eragon passed.
Family:
Deceased
Other:
Xepte is blind, and he relies on his mental web to show him where his opponent is and what he is fighting.
While in the wilderness, he used magic to construct a halberd, using the blacksmith abilities that he had learned over a hundred years beforehand. The halberd was surprisingly good, only because it was made through magic. Unfortunately, it was made from scavenged materials, and is only a temporary weapon. Currently, it is hidden in the outskirts of The Spine, protected by a magic ward.
Rp Sample:
Xepte was walking through the forest, carefully picking his way along. His sightless eyes roved in their sockets behind the strip of silk that covered his eyes, but he still knew exactly where he was headed. The path he was traveling wasn’t really a path, but more of a memory, as he was headed for the hiding spot of his Halberd.
The wards around it showed up in his mental scan before they were ‘seen’, and as he approached, he lowered them. Picking the simple yet formidable weapon, he swung it around a bit, seeing if it had fallen apart in his absence. Its swing had an abnormality, and when he inspected it carefully with his hands, he felt the chunk of edge that was missing. Sighing, he let his hand loosely slide down the blade, and received a nice slice as he did so. A sharp intake of breath betrayed his pain, nothing more.
Mentally examining the slice, and seeing that it wasn’t too bad and didn’t sever any important connections, he decided to wait to ask the one called Gertrude to heal it.
That of course, would come after he had spoken with the large blacksmith, the one named Horst. This horst had shown a small interest when Xepte had talked of ‘the weapon he found in the woods’, or his halberd. He never let on that it was his however, and he wanted the master craftsman to look it over and maybe even make a new one. Xepte had no money though, and knew full well that he’d have to pay somehow. Maybe... once Brom leaves, I’ll have a chance to prove my worth... Maybe...
Codeword: