Post by Corqian Solavel on Aug 18, 2008 14:58:34 GMT -5
The Brains of the Operation
Your first name or alias: Steve
Your age: 21
Where you're from: the western pacific coast. California
How many years/months have you been role-playing: 7 years.
What other time periods have you written in: present, future, but never past. Horror, sci-fi, modern, and fantasy.
Give a random fact about yourself: pie!
How did you find our site?:RPG directory.
I also play:no one else at the moment.
Character Information
Character's Name: Corqian Solavel
Age: unknown, hundreds of years old perhaps.
Title (Lady or Lord of the Court, Knight, Merchant etc): no title, believed to be a warrior for the elf’s of the western forest.
Human? If not, specify: humanoid Elf
Location (Narnia? Earth?): Narnia
Meeting Expectations
Face Claim:Drawing
Though to many Corqian seems like any other elf, except to those who know him. His long brown hair dips low to his shoulder, long and straight it flutters in the wind of the day. His green eyes catch the glimmer of a forest, dark green, like pine. Brown streaks blended deep, giving the appearance of a forest. Corqian stands 5,8 a little taller then most elf’s of his race, though he isn’t considered a giant he doesn’t need the extra inches, believing his height to be enough. Corqian carries himself well, most would say he floats across the landscape, flying from one step to the next, light as a feather. He always has sure footing and never opens himself to attack. In battle most would say his fighting style is like that of a dancer, moving from one enemy to the next in a fluent and ever changing motion. Always straight and tall, his composure and stance is everything to him. The strange notion is that Corqian follows a house order and has a crest of his people on his cloak, unfortunately if you look for it you will find none, Corqian follows no house and has no home, only the open woods are his home now, he continually searches through Narnia for something unknown to all.
His body is muscular yet flexible allowing him for quick and affective strikes, toned and built to be limber and strong. Corqian’s body has been honed to razor sharp edge, every muscle in his body is a tool that when used properly can yield deadly results. This allows Corqian to use such dangerous tactics in battle, such as flips, spins and round about, while still successfully land a killing blow. Though he has seen many years of combat, his body remains fairly cleansed of scars and cuts, his training has kept him from obtaining serious wounds.
The most distinctive items that separate Corqian from others are his two swords. Light scimitars forged from mithril by a Dwarf by the name of Kalik Battlebeard. Lighting quick and durable Corqian uses them like an expert in battle, spinning them back and forth, coming in from left and right, impossible angles and strikes. His armor though was forged by elves, made by the elven armor smith Koehiat Dar. the chain made to be light for quick movement fits Carqians body like a glove, allowing him to move across the battlefield with ease. Though he carries several other items, like backpack, bow and arrows, and traveling gear, the one that is the most prequel is his wooden he caries. Catching a tune when resting, Corqian plays it to pass the time, or ease the burden of his constant traveling.
Take Me As I Am
Corqian’s personality is quiet and observant, though not afraid to talk, he prefers to only speak when something important comes up, though if you open a conversation with him he will open up. The closer you get to Corqian the more he will open. He normally keeps alone, sitting out and watching a sunset rather then gather with a crowd, though a stranger he is quite humble and caring, putting the lives of others ahead of his own, ready to lat down his life. Never being mean or nasty, the only time you would see him like this is in battle, and thankfully it is his enemies who feel that wrath. Corqian is a ranger by heart, though he is a skilled warrior his heart has always laid in the forest, with the animals he finds himself home. Finding calm and harmony on the dusty road. He poses great wisdom of the elf’s, never judging always opening up to all possibilities. Though his curiosity can get him into trouble. He does have a few hobbies, fishing on a calm day always brings a smile to his face, though his favorite would be his flute.
Everyone Has A Past
born under his father Sae Solavel and Keraera Solavel, Corqian lived the first part of his life in the deep recesses of the western woods, his childhood was filled with training and preparation. Young Corqian was being trained to fill the shoes of his father. His father was a Forest Guardian and it would be a title he would pass on to his son, however one dark day a band of orcs came down the mountain ridge of the forest and attacked the elven city. After a long and difficult battle the elves had one, though it came with a price. Deep within the burning city a battle had been fought for the survival of a man’s family. Sea had encountered Rooknog, a terrible Orc warrior who was hell bent on killing him and his family. though the Orc was terrible, Corqian’s father was skilled, he struck his enemy down, but in Rooknog’s last effort for revenge he plunged his sword through Sea heart, killing him. He mourned for his father, he was a good man and a protector of the city. Corqian for a moment was without a father, he spent a few years alone training and forging his strength daily so he may become stronger, until one day a strange old elf came into his life. Corqian’s grandfather had returned from a long journey, one that had taken all of Corqian’s life. From that moment on, Corqian was trained by his grandfather Tahlian Solavel, legendary weapon master of the elves. It had said the elves hadn’t seen a sword master with so much skill in a hundred generations. Tahlian was the best and had taken Corqian under as his apprentice.
Many more years passed, long days of training and fighting had forged Corqian into a skilled swordsman, he had built a reputation for himself, and talk of him becoming a Forest Guardian was on the winds, only time would tell. Their was no surprise when the elven lord knighted Corqian and proclaimed him a Forest Guardian, dawning his armor and swords. He spent his time protecting the royal family, escorting the high lord and protecting him from harm. Peace had returned to the land and words had crossed the elf’s ears of the return of the children of Adam and Eve, hope was rekindled. However darkness had crept up once again into the forest, a dark lich a servant of the witch had come to destroy all, bring with him his undead army. The elf’s massed and prepared for battle, even the high guard of the Forest Guardian marched out of the city into battle. On the slopes of the mountain tops overlooking the forest, the two forces fought. Long and hard the battle raged on, until Corqian and his grandfather stood before the lich, they fought him and in the end before the lich's last dyeing breath he killed Corqian’s Grandfather and cursed Corqian with a tattoo across the back of his neck. Cursing him as a walking undead, he looked normal though he was now a walking soulless entity, unable to die nor go on to the next life. The elf’s being people of life, seeing undead as unnatural they banished Corqian and forced him onto the road of the unknown east, to the coast.
Example Post
the small fire crackles under the weight of the light timber and twigs, snapping and giving way as they crumble into a small bed of ash and ember. The fire had lasted all night, Corqian hadn’t expected that, he had extra wood pilled up for the fire, but it looked like he wouldn’t need it. He rolled onto his back, his mind wondering on the road ahead as the light dim of the sun rolled over the horizon. With no true direction, Corqian would head east, hopeful falling into a local settlement. His supplies were low and he needed to trade and buy goods.
He gathered his supplies, dawning his armor and sheathing his blades, Corqian walked over to the fire. Pouring some water and kicking some dirt on it, the fire quickly died out and all that was left was the smolder of a dyeing flame. His attention slowly turned from the fire to the open woods, the tall trees engulfed the horizon, his destination and track would be long, but perhaps today he would find what he longed searched for.
Corqian treaded through the open meadows of the western forest, he had entered a clearing Corqian admired the calm cool air in his face, taking note of the splendor of it all, the forest was alive as the animals moved about their way. He loved it all, it was the only thing that settled his mind away from the task. Corqian pressed his hand into the back of his neck where his tattoo could be seen. Dark magic, powerful magic, as strong as time its self had. He was forsaken, a cursed man, doomed to wonder the world as a soulless entity.
He quickly pushed the thought from his mind, those things didn’t matter, and he would find a wizard and learn how to remove this curse, even if it took the end of time.