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Ronan Marhone
post Feb 9 2012, 09:31 PM
Post #1

What a fine lack of faith you place in the ridiculous.
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Skylessia Characters

Name: Ronan Marhone
Age: 24
Homecountry: Marcelli Empire
Gender: Male
Height: 5'3"
Build: Slim
Affinity: Light

Class: Bard
Level: 11
Weapon Level: Rings - C 0/5
Weapons: Emilie's Clutch, Katon's Plea, Calypso's Clamor, Ellis' Epic, Ahura's Solace, Lethe's Sonata, Sety's Litany, Giyan's Crescendo, Chroma's Bossa Nova

Summary: Ronan's primary trait is his apparent serenity. He remains calm and thoughtful in even the worst situations, the cool head that can be relied on in a pinch. He's no pushover, though - he's never been known to back down from a fight if he thinks he can win it, and a few times when he didn't, even instigated a few when things got personal. He may come across as distant because of his analytical nature, but he's also a sympathetic listener with a sense of empathy that lets him speak directly to emotions with his music when words don't suit. He has a firm sense of justice and duty; one of his greatest weaknesses is his inability to ignore someone else's trouble, even if it means getting himself stuck in a tangled mess. Some of his friends call him a truly heroic type, others a naive dreamer - and he knows for a certainty that the two aren't mutually exclusive.

Appearance: Ronan is a handsome man, with strong but gentle features and an air of quiet confidence. His eyes are bright green with a slant that gives just a hint of perpetual sorrow to his expression, no matter what he may be feeling at the time, his lips thin and ready to quirk into a warm smile just as quickly as they might twist into a feral snarl. His dark brown hair falls just past his shoulderblades with a slight wave, sometimes tied back and braided and sometimes left free, but in public, always well-groomed and tidy with a fringe of bangs left to hang almost to his eyes. He has a slender build, but enough bulk to warn that he's not as fragile as he might first appear.

Despite his small stature, Ronan isn't easily lost in a crowd. He draws attention from his height (or at least tries to) by wearing shoes with thick soles and a peaked felt hat with a long white feather. The rest of his town clothing isn't much quieter, his tunics the colors of grass, sea or flowers, long with sleeves split to the elbow and the hems cut to resemble leaves. He wears belts decorated with golden chain and usually has a sash over his shoulder, sometimes the color and design of autumn leaves and other times decorated with feathers that make his hat look plain.

Those who first see him with full plumage may be surprised to learn that on his ship or when traveling, he dresses in completely plain shades of dark green, brown, or tan - whatever would let him easily blend in with his surroundings wherever he may be - and permits a shocking lapse of grooming. A few months at sea without shaving can make him nearly unrecognizable.

Bio: Ronan grew up with a supporting Marcelli family of his mother, Natalie; father, Connor; and two younger sisters, Maggie and Finn. While his mother stayed home to care for her children, Connor was a sailor who owned a successful merchant vessel. Even at a young age, Ronan was captivated by the notion of sea travel - or land travel, or any travel at all. He often wandered the area near his home, studying nature, when he wasn't learning music from his mother. As the man of the house in his father's absence, he felt obligated to help his mother to the best of his ability until his sisters got old enough to care for themselves - but once they did, he pestered his father until Connor finally relented and brought him on one of his shorter trade runs. It took only a year for him to become a full-fledged member of the Strati's crew, and that was when he learned that his father was not only a merchant, but also a privateer.

Though a life of adventure on the high seas suited him for a while, he eventually grew weary of the constant close quarters and periodic nerve-wracking battles. It was no surprise that living with a family of three women had given him a certain sense of peace, privacy and hygiene that were impossible to have on a ship. When his nerves stretched to the breaking point, Connor sent him off with his harp at the next port with the option to wander the area until they returned, go home, or travel. Ronan chose adventure, searching inland for a wider variety of music than his mother's folk songs and his crew's sea chanties. He fell in with another traveling minstrel and spent a solid year wandering from Marcellus to Araducia and back, writing often to Natalie and sending drawings and handmade trinkets to his sisters. But finally loneliness drew him back home, until wanderlust and the Strati's shorthanded crew sent him out to sea once again.

Thus began a regular cycle of traveling by water, land, and even air when his travels took him aboard an airship to see the mines of Alimond. His crew taught him some basic swordplay and fistfighting to defend himself, though he was reluctant to learn, and he discovered his talent for bardic magic from other musicians on his journeys. He learned to listen and to watch when performing his music, and got himself into enough scrapes to keep his crew entertained with the tales on long evenings. But despite his father's hopes, Ronan's flightiness only increased with age; his inability to stay in one place for too long meant he couldn't be a candidate to inherit the business.

Ronan returned from one of his jaunts to find his father home, his rank of privateer stripped and no company left to his name. The Strati had been sent on a mission to intercept slavers on their way to gather cargo, burning the ship on sight; but in the aftermath, someone from the torched ship was pulled aboard and revealed that they had done nothing illegal; it was merely the culmination of a long-standing vendetta between the trade prince and the ship's former captain. Connor returned to Marcellus to protest this turn and was promptly stripped of rank, with vague threats to keep it quiet if he wanted his family to remain safe. His reputation was ruined, his business destroyed overnight.

But he still had his ship. With Ronan home, Connor gathered his family and those who remained loyal of his former crew, and sailed to Azgarth, vowing not to even attempt to try again in Marcellus. Ronan admired his father's dedication to his morals even above country and business, as well as his fearlessness at having to start over in a new country. But attempts to restart the business were slow. Ronan suggested privateering again, but Connor now had his doubts about that course. Instead, he declared the Strati beholden to no nation - a mercenary crew out for themselves, doing whatever jobs they chose to accept. Ronan turned his extensive network of aquaintances into an information grapevine, sending word to his father of where the next job could be found, and taking some himself if it was a matter to be handled on foot. It was a lifestyle much better suited to his wanderlust, and they made enough money to keep themselves and their families quite literally afloat, if not much more than that.

There was just one question: If they weren't merchants, and they weren't privateers, then what were they?

"So...I guess we're pirates now?"
"Arr, matey."
"Do that again and I'm choking you with my harp."
"You're no fun."

Additional Notes/Comments:
  • Sings baritone, strong and pleasant voice.
  • Plays several different instruments but usually only carries a small harp.
  • Can use a sword to defend himself in a pinch but would easily be outclassed by anyone with decent skill.
RP History
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