Post by zianorak on Feb 18, 2008 20:36:43 GMT
Name (or nickname): Byrin Trivani, daughter of Clavold and Erya Trivani.
Age: She has seen 31 winters.
Race: Human
Homeland: (As of yet: not researched.)
Profession: Chef, when she is needing a few coins.
Magical Specialisation: She can only use enough magic to conjure a flame, and purify water. (If that is acceptable.)
Weapon Specialisations: She has been trained in hand-to-hand combat, and in weaponry (both one and two handed). She prefers using the weapons, but she is more adept at hand-to-hand.
Pets/Steed/Companion: Calaphax, her grey steed, with flaxen mane and tail.
Description:
Byrin sat alone in the kitchen, as she has often done in the past. She reached a fair hand up, and forced a strand of her straight, dark red hair out of her face. He light green eyes seemed unfocused as she stared out at the kitchen counter. She was remembering herself in her first kitchen. She was young then, barely looking over the counter while she helped her mother cook.
She remembered how her mother had urged her to cook, and from that cooking, she had gained much weight. Just starting into her nineteenth winter, she left home to visit an old family friend. This family friend taught her self-discipline, and her combat style. She remembered the day that she discovered how lean and fit she had become during that training. She was more confident in her shapely frame, than she had ever been with her excess weight.
The family friend had taught her many things, but he could never destroy her love of cooking. So, he had to implement that love into her fighting style. He had special weapons made for her, which resembled two elongated meat-cleavers. She had taken to those weapons quickly, and she had later used smaller cleavers as throwing weapons. Her training had ended not long ago, when her friend, the old man, Kerese, had passed out of this realm.
She now sat at the kitchen table, and considered her life. She was happy with how it had turned out. She looked down at the simple grey dress she wore, the trim made of a green to match her eyes, and wondered who she would meet next.
((Note: She is, at the moment, within her old home visiting her father. The dress she is wearing is not her customary dress, but something to placate her father. Her normal dressing habit is much like a man. A white, woolen tunic and a pair of dark brown or black britches. She also wears a pair of sturdy boots, made of a soft leather. She wears her "elongated cleavers" across her back, and only wears the throwing cleavers when she is expecting a battle.))
((If any of the aforementioned description is unacceptable, please notify me, and it will be modified.))
Anything you'd like to add: Um....Byrin Rocks!
Age: She has seen 31 winters.
Race: Human
Homeland: (As of yet: not researched.)
Profession: Chef, when she is needing a few coins.
Magical Specialisation: She can only use enough magic to conjure a flame, and purify water. (If that is acceptable.)
Weapon Specialisations: She has been trained in hand-to-hand combat, and in weaponry (both one and two handed). She prefers using the weapons, but she is more adept at hand-to-hand.
Pets/Steed/Companion: Calaphax, her grey steed, with flaxen mane and tail.
Description:
Byrin sat alone in the kitchen, as she has often done in the past. She reached a fair hand up, and forced a strand of her straight, dark red hair out of her face. He light green eyes seemed unfocused as she stared out at the kitchen counter. She was remembering herself in her first kitchen. She was young then, barely looking over the counter while she helped her mother cook.
She remembered how her mother had urged her to cook, and from that cooking, she had gained much weight. Just starting into her nineteenth winter, she left home to visit an old family friend. This family friend taught her self-discipline, and her combat style. She remembered the day that she discovered how lean and fit she had become during that training. She was more confident in her shapely frame, than she had ever been with her excess weight.
The family friend had taught her many things, but he could never destroy her love of cooking. So, he had to implement that love into her fighting style. He had special weapons made for her, which resembled two elongated meat-cleavers. She had taken to those weapons quickly, and she had later used smaller cleavers as throwing weapons. Her training had ended not long ago, when her friend, the old man, Kerese, had passed out of this realm.
She now sat at the kitchen table, and considered her life. She was happy with how it had turned out. She looked down at the simple grey dress she wore, the trim made of a green to match her eyes, and wondered who she would meet next.
((Note: She is, at the moment, within her old home visiting her father. The dress she is wearing is not her customary dress, but something to placate her father. Her normal dressing habit is much like a man. A white, woolen tunic and a pair of dark brown or black britches. She also wears a pair of sturdy boots, made of a soft leather. She wears her "elongated cleavers" across her back, and only wears the throwing cleavers when she is expecting a battle.))
((If any of the aforementioned description is unacceptable, please notify me, and it will be modified.))
Anything you'd like to add: Um....Byrin Rocks!
I'm not used to sugar-coating.
to cover both bases. Why didn't you just ask for that? *dies laughing* 