Post by Thaegal Skysong on Oct 28, 2007 13:53:09 GMT -5
Name: Thaegal Skysong
Gender: Male
Race: 2/3's elf/ 1/3 Feather Dragon
Corner Preferance: Wind
Age: 50
Description: The hair of this angelic looking being is as white and pure as the clouds. It is straight, with a few more-ruffled parts that look like feathers. They stand out more when he is angry. His face in slight and angular, like that of his earth-bound kindred the common elves. His eyes also resembles elves's in shape, but they are a light blue the shade of the sky itself. His skin is fair, and here and there feathers sprout from his face and body. The feathers are white like his hair, and all come together on his two angelic wings sprouting from his shoulder blades. They are quite large, and easily support his slight build in flight. He wears an inscribed, light green-blue tunic and trousers. His tunic is custon made to accomadate his wings. The runes on Thaegal's clothing are not words of power as many get the impression. They are instead lyrics to ancient songs in ancient tongues. Though he abhors violence, he sees that it is occasionally neccesary so he wears a light rapier at his side. When prepared for a battle he also wears a long bow strung across his back between his wings. He is not particularly skilled in the use of either of these weapons but can hold his own in a pinch. Last but certainly not least he carries a silver harp with him at all times. As his name implies he is a bard and quick to jump into any kind of song for any kind of occasion. Even though he is 50 years of age he appears in his mid 20's because of his long living forefathers.
Personality: Thaegal is usually a merry sort, only truly happy when singing a song or reciting a poem at a feast of other celebration. He treats all good-minded folk as equals, no matter what their race or religion. He shows an affinity for animals of all sorts, especially great birds of power and majesty such as eagles or owls. He despises those who would kill for money, or any other reason and have a godd conscience about it afterwards. Revenge he sees as a sad waste of life, energy, and mental goodness. Freedom is also something of great value to Skysong, and slavery is one of the worst crimes fathomable to him. He enjoys the company of friends and making new ones, but even more so he enjoys flying up and beyond the clouds to feel the wind on his face and see the world below him. He is optimistic and wouldn't surrender unless he was overwelmed by sadness or despair. These two emotions usually come over him during the time after the loss of a friend. He has little problem expressing these emotions and is fairly romantic, though definitely not prone to comitments since he has a great wanderlust that takes him wherever the wind blows.
Skills: Obviously, Thaegal is a skilled bard. A few of his songs have a magical touch, but these are usually just charming someone or striking fear in a foe. The lyrics of his songs are almost never in the common tongue. Thaegal prefers to use either the ancient language of the elves or a sort of blend between that language and the one of the feather dragons. In elven, he usually sings for fun or to charm someone, for as many know there is something strangely intoxicating about the language of elves spoken with a certain amount of fluency. Even non-sentient animals will occasionally respond to this. When he sings in the strange, half-language of his own invention it is usually in tragedy, before a fight, or to strike fear in one's heart. It seems like speech of the Nether for none but himself can perfectly translate it into common among other languages. He does not sing in pure, feather dragon talk as it is more the sound of birds, and he is far more humanoid than dragonkin.When singing in Common it is usually a short hymn for human (among other) children. He is so-so in swordsmanship, and sticks to the use of light blades like his rapier. He is self taught in fighting with this weapon, and has developed a style based on getting to the opponent quicker than they can get to him, as he is not particularly talented in complex parrying and riposting and what not. Marginally greater that his bladecraft is his archery. Because of his Feather Dragon heritage his eyesight is very keen and he can sight targets from quite a ways away. The hard part comes after spotting them. He rarely actually tries to kill when firing first, and even if he did he would not hit where he wanted to. Skysong's marksmanship could be compared to a peasant hunter's, with augmented sight and a higher quality bow being the only true advantages. The hybrid's natural charm and nack for friendliness makes him fairly diplomatic and making friends with beasts and other people comes naturally to him. However, a true, everlasting friend has escaped Thaegal do to his flighty (chuckle, chuckle). Since he will never settle, people who wish to stay with him would be best off following him, though this would be hard since he leaves no tracks on the land. Due to his wings, he can fly. He tends to do so very, very, high. Thaegal's lungs are more accustomed to thinner air since his Feather Dragon ancestors are the unquestioned rulers of the sky. Wings being large, he can move fairly quick through the clouded beyond. His weaknesses however are that he is not physically strong because he is thin, and he can be manipulated in his moody times. He is quick to despair with the loss of friends, and instantly to anger with the harming of the defenseless and/or innocent so he is vulnerable at either times. He can be manipulated in the sense that, for example: he may be able to 'adopt' the idea that it is another's fault, and he may go after that person. However, he usually sees the errors of his ways about half way through most of the time, since vengeance and the like are against his principles.
Sample Post: He sat atop the cloud with a smile on his face. The young bird he had taken with him panted in fear of his new location. The "angel" he was carried by muttered something in an attempt to soothe the chick, and slowly it took affect. The bird squirmed close to his body for comfort.
Suddenly a cry came from below, that of the mother eagle. The winged humanoid stood and the young bird began to chirp in excitement.
He took the chick in his hand, gently carressing it to make the journey back to the nest as comfortable as possible. All the way back the mother eagle flew nearby, desperate to get her baby back but cautious of the stranger. Her baby was silent, all it did was watch the stranger. When the angelic being arrived at the nest the mother was already there. She huddled the other chicks around her, and eyed the humanoid warily.
He placed the chick softly in the nest, still smiling, and turned to fly away. The young chick watched him go, and finally when he was just barely within sight of it's already sharp eyes, they made eye contact. Then, with the passing of a cloud, he was gone.
Sample Post 2:
Gender: Male
Race: 2/3's elf/ 1/3 Feather Dragon
Corner Preferance: Wind
Age: 50
Description: The hair of this angelic looking being is as white and pure as the clouds. It is straight, with a few more-ruffled parts that look like feathers. They stand out more when he is angry. His face in slight and angular, like that of his earth-bound kindred the common elves. His eyes also resembles elves's in shape, but they are a light blue the shade of the sky itself. His skin is fair, and here and there feathers sprout from his face and body. The feathers are white like his hair, and all come together on his two angelic wings sprouting from his shoulder blades. They are quite large, and easily support his slight build in flight. He wears an inscribed, light green-blue tunic and trousers. His tunic is custon made to accomadate his wings. The runes on Thaegal's clothing are not words of power as many get the impression. They are instead lyrics to ancient songs in ancient tongues. Though he abhors violence, he sees that it is occasionally neccesary so he wears a light rapier at his side. When prepared for a battle he also wears a long bow strung across his back between his wings. He is not particularly skilled in the use of either of these weapons but can hold his own in a pinch. Last but certainly not least he carries a silver harp with him at all times. As his name implies he is a bard and quick to jump into any kind of song for any kind of occasion. Even though he is 50 years of age he appears in his mid 20's because of his long living forefathers.
Personality: Thaegal is usually a merry sort, only truly happy when singing a song or reciting a poem at a feast of other celebration. He treats all good-minded folk as equals, no matter what their race or religion. He shows an affinity for animals of all sorts, especially great birds of power and majesty such as eagles or owls. He despises those who would kill for money, or any other reason and have a godd conscience about it afterwards. Revenge he sees as a sad waste of life, energy, and mental goodness. Freedom is also something of great value to Skysong, and slavery is one of the worst crimes fathomable to him. He enjoys the company of friends and making new ones, but even more so he enjoys flying up and beyond the clouds to feel the wind on his face and see the world below him. He is optimistic and wouldn't surrender unless he was overwelmed by sadness or despair. These two emotions usually come over him during the time after the loss of a friend. He has little problem expressing these emotions and is fairly romantic, though definitely not prone to comitments since he has a great wanderlust that takes him wherever the wind blows.
Skills: Obviously, Thaegal is a skilled bard. A few of his songs have a magical touch, but these are usually just charming someone or striking fear in a foe. The lyrics of his songs are almost never in the common tongue. Thaegal prefers to use either the ancient language of the elves or a sort of blend between that language and the one of the feather dragons. In elven, he usually sings for fun or to charm someone, for as many know there is something strangely intoxicating about the language of elves spoken with a certain amount of fluency. Even non-sentient animals will occasionally respond to this. When he sings in the strange, half-language of his own invention it is usually in tragedy, before a fight, or to strike fear in one's heart. It seems like speech of the Nether for none but himself can perfectly translate it into common among other languages. He does not sing in pure, feather dragon talk as it is more the sound of birds, and he is far more humanoid than dragonkin.When singing in Common it is usually a short hymn for human (among other) children. He is so-so in swordsmanship, and sticks to the use of light blades like his rapier. He is self taught in fighting with this weapon, and has developed a style based on getting to the opponent quicker than they can get to him, as he is not particularly talented in complex parrying and riposting and what not. Marginally greater that his bladecraft is his archery. Because of his Feather Dragon heritage his eyesight is very keen and he can sight targets from quite a ways away. The hard part comes after spotting them. He rarely actually tries to kill when firing first, and even if he did he would not hit where he wanted to. Skysong's marksmanship could be compared to a peasant hunter's, with augmented sight and a higher quality bow being the only true advantages. The hybrid's natural charm and nack for friendliness makes him fairly diplomatic and making friends with beasts and other people comes naturally to him. However, a true, everlasting friend has escaped Thaegal do to his flighty (chuckle, chuckle). Since he will never settle, people who wish to stay with him would be best off following him, though this would be hard since he leaves no tracks on the land. Due to his wings, he can fly. He tends to do so very, very, high. Thaegal's lungs are more accustomed to thinner air since his Feather Dragon ancestors are the unquestioned rulers of the sky. Wings being large, he can move fairly quick through the clouded beyond. His weaknesses however are that he is not physically strong because he is thin, and he can be manipulated in his moody times. He is quick to despair with the loss of friends, and instantly to anger with the harming of the defenseless and/or innocent so he is vulnerable at either times. He can be manipulated in the sense that, for example: he may be able to 'adopt' the idea that it is another's fault, and he may go after that person. However, he usually sees the errors of his ways about half way through most of the time, since vengeance and the like are against his principles.
Sample Post: He sat atop the cloud with a smile on his face. The young bird he had taken with him panted in fear of his new location. The "angel" he was carried by muttered something in an attempt to soothe the chick, and slowly it took affect. The bird squirmed close to his body for comfort.
"Such a pretty thing," he said to it.
Suddenly a cry came from below, that of the mother eagle. The winged humanoid stood and the young bird began to chirp in excitement.
"Shhhh, be silent little one," he assured.
He took the chick in his hand, gently carressing it to make the journey back to the nest as comfortable as possible. All the way back the mother eagle flew nearby, desperate to get her baby back but cautious of the stranger. Her baby was silent, all it did was watch the stranger. When the angelic being arrived at the nest the mother was already there. She huddled the other chicks around her, and eyed the humanoid warily.
"Fear not m'lady," he said with a smile.
He placed the chick softly in the nest, still smiling, and turned to fly away. The young chick watched him go, and finally when he was just barely within sight of it's already sharp eyes, they made eye contact. Then, with the passing of a cloud, he was gone.
Sample Post 2:
In the village of Hayrenth, which sat at the foot of a massive mountain, the local inn was a buzz with an internal comotion. It was now the waning hours of a day which had been sunny and temperate, a day which took no excuse for not working out in the fields since it had given such splendid conditions to work with. So for most, the day had been long, and in the village of Hayrenth, the tradition to end a long day with was a long night at the inn. The innkeeper stood behind his plain, oaken bar absent-mindedly cleaning the inside of a tall glass, watching the reddened sun as it set over the golden plains to the west. He sighed at such a beautiful sight, and turned around to attend to the many customers of his inn.
As he beheld the cacaphonous crowd, he sighed once more. He saw local farmers jesting and laughing drunkenly, slapping knees and breaking his precious glasses all with the on set of alcohol. He watched as some local teenage boys made snide and rude remarks to his waitresses. The innkeeper had only two in his employment, both his nieces orphaned to his brothers long ago. One was short with long, brunette hair and green eyes, as well as a comely body. She smiled or bit her lip as they commented on her scantily clad body. The innkeeper dressed them that way on purpose so as to attract the younger men, who spent a good deal drinking. The other was of average high, with shorter blonde hair and icy blue eyes. She wore the same attcire as her cousin, though flaunted her body marginally less. When one boy went for her buttox, she turned and slapped as hard as a women could ever slap, and the man fell out of his chair in a dizzy heap. As the big orc bouncer came over to remove him, the innkeeper smiled to himself.
one eyed one horned flying purple people eater
Others among the mix included a trio of halflings, bouncing madly as they randomly spat out notes on their make shift flutes. Whenever another bargoer walked by to drop a copper in their pot one would quickly stop, squeal a quick "Thank ye!" and go right on playing. A Fire Dragon sat at a table on the far side of the bar. It laughed a slow, drawn out "Hurr, Hurr, Hurr," as another human barfly told it a joke and passed it a beer. Brune had long lived in Hayrenth, rumor had it he was so slow his own kind didn't even want him. Course, whenever you asked him this he'd simply stare blankly and say "I'unno". Poor bloke.
That was it for the usual crowd. But their was one other the innkeeper had his eye on for the last couple days when he first wandered into town. He sat alone at a worn out table in the corner of the room. He sat casually, his legs hitched up on the table and he leaning way back in his chair. He was one of the fairer folk, as his features were elven, but he had wings as white as snow. Or, clouds, as the stranger prefered to say.Thaegal the innkeeper remembered, That's his name.
The winged Thaegal strummed absent mindedly at the beautiful harp he possessed. He seemed easy-going to the town-folk, but keeping that harp was dead serious to him. He carried it wherever he went. Surprisingly, the lazy tunes of his instrument somehow matched the 'notes' of the halfings' flutes. The innkeeper saw great talent in him in the last few days he'd been in the village. He never asked for any money in return for his entertainment, as long as he was allowed to play.
"'Ey you!"
Came a sudden, drunken shout from the door. It was the young man who had went for Codeia earlier. All eyes turned to the doorway, and then to Thaegal (As that was who the shout was intended for). Thaegal gazed innocently at the young human.
"Yeah, you f-f-feather boy," the drunk spat as he talked.
He stumbled as he walked over to the feathered man, glaring with an evil intent the whole way. The innkeeper looked to his bouncer, who now wore a broad smile on his face. He obviously thought this was amuzing. When the drunkard came to Thaegal, he stooped over the winged humanoid, more spittle and unswallowed ale on his lips.
"Ah...ah shheed j-j-jyou makinksh shome moofsh on m'girly yonder," he said, motioning to Cordeia.
Now it was Thaegal's turn to talk.
"I assure you my good man, I have done nothing to suggest anything but a friendship between myself and yon beautiful lady," he replied. Codeia blushed at the compliment, but hid her face as she would not be seen doing such. The drunk man's face was red with a rage.
"I assure you my good man, I have done nothing to suggest anything but a friendship between myself and yon beautiful lady," he replied. Codeia blushed at the compliment, but hid her face as she would not be seen doing such. The drunk man's face was red with a rage.
"Don't jyou mesh wiff me jyou lil' shnot!" he roared as he drew forth a concealed dagger and thrust murderously at the bard.
The rest was a flash before all the bargoers eyes. Within a second after the drunk drew his dagger, he went stiff. A thin, ornate rapier protruded from his back. All the spectators gaped in shock, all wearing the expression of a silent gasp. Thaegal's go-lucky smile had turn to a face of pure sadness. He drew back the blade and stood, letting the body fall to the wooden ground.
Thump
Thaegal walked gracefully yet solemnly to the counter, reached into his posket, and withdrew three gold coins and dopsited them on the desk. As he turned to walk to the door he gave Codeia one last, meaningful look, and exited. As soon as some of the shock wore off, all the bargoers rushed to the windows to watch him go. Man shoved man for a better view, and the halflings crawled up onto Brune's large back for a mere glimpse of the wandering bard.
As Thaegal walked to the west, into the redenning sun, the wind seemed to materialize around him. He spread his wings, and he rose, carried by the currents of Airos,away from the village of Hayrenth, forever.
one eyed one horned flying purple people eater
