Post by shana on Feb 28, 2007 5:15:57 GMT -5
your name: Shana
other characters RPed on DRA: Saphira, Argiothorpian, Tripudio.
(Please note I started this before the restriction, and Murtagh said me and Howl could do this, after a lot of laughing and head-shaking -shrug-)
character:
name: Arvigo Knurl, though known only as Barzul ever since he joined the empire; except by a certain elf who nicknames him "midget".
age: 130
gender: Male
race: Dwarf
allegiance: The Empire, he is Lieutenant of one of Galbatorix's many squads of soldiers.
description: '
Barzul is a dwarf who is a stereotype on the outside, long, gruff and shaggy beard, ensnared with curls and many pieces of dirt; as well as the typical shorter-than-everyone-else trait. His head is shaved however, so his only facial hair lies in his beard. The insult "dwarf" used among humans and elves applies to him in every single way, both his race, his height and his stereotype.
While he might be taller than someone, namely a five year old, he looks old in the winkles on his forehead and the hard, cold, eyes; as dark as crimson and yet a deep hazel, red streaks almost the same colour as the brown come in thin spikes from his pupil. (Basically a brown with a bit of extra red pigment.)
personality:
Formalities are but webs around the dwarf, the stretch of them or the plain breaking them with an axe. While sometimes, like a fly trapped in a spiders web, formalities come to him as naturally as breathing. Other times, the web just drops from him completely and his dwarven language comes up with curses no-one can understand. His old life was of the dwarves, a loyal soldier of Tronjheim; and the dwarven language comes naturally to him. The common tongue is a second language, and he slips into dwarven words often.
While on the outside he is a gruff exterior who holds the traditional dwarven traits, the hatred of the elves and general aggresiveness, on the inside he is a different. He has spent years, decades even, in the company of captain Kamaru Asyris. An elf. While his hatred and jealousy on the outside is a taunt, and a mockery of the elf, his true feelings are respect for the man. Or elf, depending on how you put it. On the inside he is completely different from the disciplined lieutenant he is in company.
However, he can eat with manners, as well as keep his manners and be polite in the company of those he fears or respects. Very few people have earnt that title. Galbatorix is one, Kamaru is another. A couple of captains, a marshall and one of the few other dwarven soldiers are the only ones to earn the position.
He is quick to be subjected to being provoked, usually slicing the offender from head to toe, if he can. Indeed, unlike most dwarves he dislikes the slow axe. His arms are fast enough to abuse the sword, as well as strong enough to smash blades out of other people's hands. Still, the sacrifice of an axe's raw power for a blades speed may not have been a good idea for a dwarf, who didn't have the speed to use a sword to it's full potential.
history:
He was never royalty, he was a humble boy. Arvigo was forced into the mines since he was young, five or six years old. His family couldn't afford to keep him without him working, as below a mountain food is quite expensive. Every day his time was spent hunting for precious jewels, rather than leisure time. Fun was never something he had. He never trained in weapons, his days were work, eat dried bread, then sleep.
When he grew older his father gave him his first blade, when he was thirty years old. His family was slightly richer at that point, and paid for him to be tutoured by an amateur swordsman for an hour a week. Eventually, when taxes rose ten years later because of the war, the lessons stopped and they couldn't afford to keep Arvigo anymore, and threw him out.
Arvigo wandered in the wilds, using his amateur swords skills to hunt animals with a handcrafted wooden blade. Eventually, as one cannot stay hidden forever, Galbatorix was out hunting with his dragon, and found a dwarf. The same race that was helping to oppose him. Without hesitation the dwarf was shot in the side of the head with an arrow, scraping the skin off his right temple but fortunately not close enough to kill him. Instead, he lost all memories of the past. Instead of killing him right there and then, Galbatorix decided to drag it on. He brought the body of the unconscious dwarf to the torture chambers.
The torture chambers were his home for a month before a captain saw his strength to resist the torture for such a long time and let him join the army as a low class; a slave if you will. That was how he remained for many years, until a battle against the dwarves where he proved his worth, slaying many of his own kin. From that day forth, every dwarf named him "Barzul", a curse in dwarven tongue. He adopted it as his nickname from then on.
For the next fifty years he rose through the ranks, eventually ending up as the lieutenant he is currently, though he is being considered for a promotion to a captain; depending on his strike team's results.
family:
Galviorix Barl: (Father, living)
Evyanthe Broune: (Mother, deceased)
other:
Friends with Kamaru, though the friendship is disguised.
Lieautenant of a high ranking strike squad.
rp sample:
"Knurlagn! Men! In your lines!"
The smallest figure in the line of men yelled at the taller humans surrounding him. They obeyed with almost instant response, backing back into their lines with a salute. The dwarf nodded, before exiting the line he had just forged and stepping forward.
"My lord king..."
The dwarf lowered his form, which was already barely up to the chest of the king in front of him. As the dwarf bowed he snapped his fingers at the men standing behind him; who saluted before dismissing themselves. Turning his head back at the king, the dwarf raised himself.
"Do you need me? Or my squad?"
The dwarf stood again, staring Galbatorix in the eyes while adjusting his blade across his belt. It wasn't often Galbatorix visited him and his squad, he had thousands of other ones. In fact, normally the squad that stupid elf leads gets offered the best jobs. He scowled for a moment, the lip movement only lasting for barely a moment before ending.
(Excuse the stupid elf line. I don't want to make up Howl's character's name for him.)
other characters RPed on DRA: Saphira, Argiothorpian, Tripudio.
(Please note I started this before the restriction, and Murtagh said me and Howl could do this, after a lot of laughing and head-shaking -shrug-)
character:
name: Arvigo Knurl, though known only as Barzul ever since he joined the empire; except by a certain elf who nicknames him "midget".
age: 130
gender: Male
race: Dwarf
allegiance: The Empire, he is Lieutenant of one of Galbatorix's many squads of soldiers.
description: '
Barzul is a dwarf who is a stereotype on the outside, long, gruff and shaggy beard, ensnared with curls and many pieces of dirt; as well as the typical shorter-than-everyone-else trait. His head is shaved however, so his only facial hair lies in his beard. The insult "dwarf" used among humans and elves applies to him in every single way, both his race, his height and his stereotype.
While he might be taller than someone, namely a five year old, he looks old in the winkles on his forehead and the hard, cold, eyes; as dark as crimson and yet a deep hazel, red streaks almost the same colour as the brown come in thin spikes from his pupil. (Basically a brown with a bit of extra red pigment.)
personality:
Formalities are but webs around the dwarf, the stretch of them or the plain breaking them with an axe. While sometimes, like a fly trapped in a spiders web, formalities come to him as naturally as breathing. Other times, the web just drops from him completely and his dwarven language comes up with curses no-one can understand. His old life was of the dwarves, a loyal soldier of Tronjheim; and the dwarven language comes naturally to him. The common tongue is a second language, and he slips into dwarven words often.
While on the outside he is a gruff exterior who holds the traditional dwarven traits, the hatred of the elves and general aggresiveness, on the inside he is a different. He has spent years, decades even, in the company of captain Kamaru Asyris. An elf. While his hatred and jealousy on the outside is a taunt, and a mockery of the elf, his true feelings are respect for the man. Or elf, depending on how you put it. On the inside he is completely different from the disciplined lieutenant he is in company.
However, he can eat with manners, as well as keep his manners and be polite in the company of those he fears or respects. Very few people have earnt that title. Galbatorix is one, Kamaru is another. A couple of captains, a marshall and one of the few other dwarven soldiers are the only ones to earn the position.
He is quick to be subjected to being provoked, usually slicing the offender from head to toe, if he can. Indeed, unlike most dwarves he dislikes the slow axe. His arms are fast enough to abuse the sword, as well as strong enough to smash blades out of other people's hands. Still, the sacrifice of an axe's raw power for a blades speed may not have been a good idea for a dwarf, who didn't have the speed to use a sword to it's full potential.
history:
He was never royalty, he was a humble boy. Arvigo was forced into the mines since he was young, five or six years old. His family couldn't afford to keep him without him working, as below a mountain food is quite expensive. Every day his time was spent hunting for precious jewels, rather than leisure time. Fun was never something he had. He never trained in weapons, his days were work, eat dried bread, then sleep.
When he grew older his father gave him his first blade, when he was thirty years old. His family was slightly richer at that point, and paid for him to be tutoured by an amateur swordsman for an hour a week. Eventually, when taxes rose ten years later because of the war, the lessons stopped and they couldn't afford to keep Arvigo anymore, and threw him out.
Arvigo wandered in the wilds, using his amateur swords skills to hunt animals with a handcrafted wooden blade. Eventually, as one cannot stay hidden forever, Galbatorix was out hunting with his dragon, and found a dwarf. The same race that was helping to oppose him. Without hesitation the dwarf was shot in the side of the head with an arrow, scraping the skin off his right temple but fortunately not close enough to kill him. Instead, he lost all memories of the past. Instead of killing him right there and then, Galbatorix decided to drag it on. He brought the body of the unconscious dwarf to the torture chambers.
The torture chambers were his home for a month before a captain saw his strength to resist the torture for such a long time and let him join the army as a low class; a slave if you will. That was how he remained for many years, until a battle against the dwarves where he proved his worth, slaying many of his own kin. From that day forth, every dwarf named him "Barzul", a curse in dwarven tongue. He adopted it as his nickname from then on.
For the next fifty years he rose through the ranks, eventually ending up as the lieutenant he is currently, though he is being considered for a promotion to a captain; depending on his strike team's results.
family:
Galviorix Barl: (Father, living)
Evyanthe Broune: (Mother, deceased)
other:
Friends with Kamaru, though the friendship is disguised.
Lieautenant of a high ranking strike squad.
rp sample:
"Knurlagn! Men! In your lines!"
The smallest figure in the line of men yelled at the taller humans surrounding him. They obeyed with almost instant response, backing back into their lines with a salute. The dwarf nodded, before exiting the line he had just forged and stepping forward.
"My lord king..."
The dwarf lowered his form, which was already barely up to the chest of the king in front of him. As the dwarf bowed he snapped his fingers at the men standing behind him; who saluted before dismissing themselves. Turning his head back at the king, the dwarf raised himself.
"Do you need me? Or my squad?"
The dwarf stood again, staring Galbatorix in the eyes while adjusting his blade across his belt. It wasn't often Galbatorix visited him and his squad, he had thousands of other ones. In fact, normally the squad that stupid elf leads gets offered the best jobs. He scowled for a moment, the lip movement only lasting for barely a moment before ending.
(Excuse the stupid elf line. I don't want to make up Howl's character's name for him.)
