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Problem Sleuth
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Problem Sleuth

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19 May 2009
Now that we have official rules for third tier, I think that it might be a good idea to put in a 'Third Tier Discussion' sticky thread in either OOC Discussion, or Character Creation, for people nearing third tier to get insight on their Custom Class before they submit it.

It can help people make their character good, but not overpowered and needing to reapply their submission, and can let them suggest ideas to see if people like the idea, or even get help on it if they are unsure what they should do for their custom class.

Would this be helpful?
25 Mar 2009
Name: Gilles Bristow
Age: 24
Homecountry: Alacia
Affinity: Ice
Gender: Male
Height: 6 Feet
Weight: Around 200 Lbs with no heavy equipment
Class: Mercenary

Level: 5

Weapons: Iron Sword [E]
Weapon Levels: Swords - D

Appearance:

Due to the training Gilles' has been through, his body is in great shape. At six feet tall, He is a little bit taller than a person of his age, which is mostly attributed to his diet. His bright red hair is short, however, his bangs are slightly long, and stick out, much like a cowlick. Covering his neck, and the lower part of his chin is a large white hooded scarf, which is usually kept down unless the sun is especially merciless. Wearing a a black colored armless Gi, he also wears a large sky blue tabard with a crest of a flying Pegasus over it, fastened by a belt so that it does not flap in the wind. He is mostly unarmored around his torso, but he does wear a pair of plated and segmented greaves, along with silver pauldrons over each shoulder, and a gauntlet on his right hand.

However, the one thing that most people would notice instantly, is the lack of a left arm. It was amputated to prevent flesh eating bacteria from spreading to his body. Because of this, he cannot use lances effectively, and the weight of axes hinder his ability to use those as well. The scabbard that houses his sword is also fastened to his back, to allow him easier access to it, because an unheld scabbard at the side makes his weapon get caught in the throat when he tries to draw it. Instead, at his waist, is a small flask of unknown liquid, which he tends to take a drink of whenever he is stressed.

Personality:

Before the amputation of his arm, he was a young and cocky punk, who always bragged about his skills, despite never being in a live combat experience before. His fiery nature often got him into trouble, although usually nothing too serious. He payed no heed to tacticians, and was always incredibly aggressive in training exercises. There was only one person whom he would really listen to; his father. Even then, he would go back to being his old self whenever he left the room. He is passionate about fighting, wanting to become like his father, who was a well respected man among the Alacian Royal Wyvern Riders.

That all changed after the incident, however. After he lost his arm, he became much more serious, and a calm thinker. Strategy was his number one priority, because he didn't want another tragedy like that to happen because of his arrogance. Even though he was willing to change his ways, he was not desired as a defender of his nation due to his handicap, being honorably discharged with a medal for his loss on behalf of Alacia. This drove him into a depression, as he wanted to still fight; to make his father proud.

Gilles has a deep hatred for Dark Magic users, as his arm was taken as a side effect of a Dark tome spell. He will either not work for someone if it somehow deals with him being allied with a Druid, unless they offer a compelling explanation on why he should, or he will take the job, and just completely ignore them. However, he is happy to take on a job if his goal is in opposition of a follower of the dark arts.

He is afraid of rejection. He doesnt want his ability gauged on appearances, when he really is a competent fighter. He feels that his missing arm causes people to go to others for their mercenary jobs, and it really hits him deep when it turns out to be true. He wants to show the world that he is as capable as any other man with two arms, and to make up for his past mistakes. Even moreso, he is afraid of failure. He is on an everlasting journey to prove himself, where failure just isnt an option for him, and his pride has driven him to the point of near-desperation.

Gilles isnt incredibly religious. In fact, it wouldn't be entirely false to call him an athiest. He tries to view things from many different views and tries to understand where they come from regarding religion, but has remained neutral on the subject himself. At the very most, he is agnostic, admiting that there is a possibility of gods or goddesses, but taking it with a grain of salt, not counting on it.

Bio:
Gilles was born into nobility by a former high ranking officer of the Alacian Wyvern Knights named Everard Bristow, who settled down soon after retiring. While the housing and income was quite luxurious, this did not mean Gilles' upbringing was lax. His father was quite strict, being a man of discipline, and while Gilles obeyed him, it caused him to develop a bit of a rebellious attitude when not around him.

Gilles enjoyed his fathers stories as a Drake Knight in the service of the Royal Family. His tellings of fierce battles and heroic antics charmed the young boy into persuing the art of combat. Everard was against this, originally. He didn't want his son killed in the line of duty, and worried that his stories may have affected him in a negative way. Everard opted not to tell him any more of his war tales, in hopes that Gilles would get tired of the idea, but his passion never waned.

Gilles often played with others with a stick compared to their toy swords or toy axes, because Everard refused to buy such a toy that would encourage his pursuit in a career as a Military man. He was often teased because of this by his friends, joking around that he was pretty poor for a noble. Even as they played, His father always sought fit to keep an eye on him. Everard became conflicted, feeling that Gilles would try and fight even without his help, and it worried him that without proper training, his chances of survival were even lower.

Everard made a difficult choice. Although reluctant, he opted to train his boy, in hopes that it would keep him alive. Gilles training started early, at the age of eight. Because he was so young, he was to learn how to use the sword, as it was the lightest of the many weapons, and if he expressed interest in others, He would learn them when he was older. The weapons he used were real, Everard keeping a sharp eye out to make sure the only damage he would experience would be a few cuts now and then. His fathers reasoning, was that if he were to get cut out of recklessness, then he would understand that battle was not a game. It would either scare him off, or teach him discipline.

He had trouble lifting the weapon at first, even if it was a sword. His first lessons were simple. He was to get the feel of the weapon, and to get used to its weight before moving on to actual combat basics. He was not allowed to move on until he could hold the sword in one hand, and swing it comfortably. It took a while for Gilles to get the hang of it, and he even had to exercise more than usual in order to build up the proper strength, but by the age of ten, he was wielding the blade like a pro. A pro of holding onto an object was not very impressive however, so Everard wasted no time and starting his next lesson.

Using a staw dummy, Gilles father taught him about Human anatomy, showing him the optimal places to strike to take someone down as fast as possible. Gilles thought this to be an easy exercise, until his father started to move the dummy around, making it impossible for him to land a blow. He explained how an opponent wasnt going to let him land a blow, and that he had to work hard if he wanted to hit. No matter how hard he tried, he was unable to match skill with his father. Everard could read him like an open book; his strikes were wide and obvious, but within time, he slowly learned how to control his predictability.

At fourteen, He was quite advanced in the art of Swordsmanship, but was of course nowhere near his fathers greatness. He showed promise, and seemed like he was ready to take training into a second weapon, but Gilles became incredibly attached to the sword he had once barely been able to hold. He planned on training for a couple more years, before applying for a position of a Wyvern Rider in the Alacian Royal Army. His father, not convinced that he was skilled enough to join, decided that these couple of years would be the hardest he's ever trained, designating himself as a sparring partner for his son.

He was relentless in his sparring, only holding back in order not to kill his son. He used Axes effectively in combat, and had far superior skill, making Gilles' advantage with swords a joke. The most Gilles could ever do was block using his sword with two hands, while his father used only one to break his guard. The difference in skill was overwhelming, but Gilles always stood back up after being knocked down, determined to prove to his father that he would become as great as he was.

Over the years, Gilles was unable to land a single blow on his father, but his unwavering determination and desire to become stronger was always there. When he finally enlisted he was an incredibly skillful fighter, being harshly trained by his father, rather than a tutor. Out of the new recruits, he showed the most promise, and was commended on his skills, but all the praise he was given only served to swell his ego. He quickly became arrogant and cocky, he started to believe he was actually invincible.

It wasnt until an attack from the Akasha that Gilles got his first battle, and it wasnt a pretty one either. Gilles arrogance got the better of him, and he rushed off with his Wyvern ahead of all the other soldiers. Because of this, he got isolated, and while he was focused on taking out an enemy, He was blindsided by a malicious magic by a druid that wrapped itself around his left arm. The intense pain that followed caused him to get knocked off his Wyvern, and would have died there if not for a group of his brothers in arms who came to aid him, and he was quickly flown back to the back lines for treatment of his wounds.

Expert clerics could repair the damaged tissue, but the magic used was of a special flesh eating kind. If it were to be mended by staves, it would continue to eat away at his arm. The only way to protect him from spreading of the magic, his arm had to be amputated. He was spared the pain of his arm being cut off, by way of a sleep staff, but the entire ordeal humbled him, and he learned how truly mortal he was.

Despite his protests, he had his Wyvern taken and was Honorable discharged, on the grounds that he was unfit to defend the kingdom on account disability. The whole ordeal caused many awkward silences between him and his father while at home, and he became quite depressed, being unable to do the thing he trained his whole life for. He took to the bottle during this time, developing a taste for alcohol. He began to think long and hard about his future and his passions. He could easily live a long life at home, being a noble with a heavy purse, but the thought of that left an emptiness in him, and he couldnt stand facing his father after his failure.

He came to the conclusion that it would be in his best interest to leave the country. The utter failure of a respected nobles son was too well known in Alacia, and It would be at least slightly easier to find mercenary work outside the country, even with his disability. Taking the sword hes had by his side since childhood, Gilles left his past behind him, letting no mountain stop his path to prove himself.


Additional Notes/Comments: Anything else you'd like to tack on for others to know

Gilles can hold his liquor quite well. It would take a substantial amount to make him tipsy.
He is a wreck emotionally, at least when it comes to his past. He counters this by only focusing on the future.
His father has a pretty wicked 'stache (IMG:style_emoticons/blue/grin.gif)
24 Mar 2009
Name: Zilaph
Aliases: The Snow Beauty of Begnion
Nation: Born in Hatari, lived most of her life in Begnion
Age: Looks Roughly 15-16 (50 Years old)
Race: Female Fox Laguz

Appearance:

Zilaph is very petite and lithe, seeming to be a little malnourished. Compared to other Fox Laguz, she can be considered a runt, being a little under the average height of one. Her long, silver white hair is very neat and clean, despite her tendancy to hang around thick wooded areas, and reaches around halfway down her back. The robe she wears is made from red silk, with flower decor, seeming to be a sort of kimono. However, the kimono is also dirty and tattered, with very obvious signs of wear and tear, implying that she hasnt really been in some sort of civilization in a while. Her eyes are a light reddish color, which seems to go well with her rosy complection, even though some of it is obscured with light dirt. Her furred ears are of the same silvery-white color of her hair, as well as her long, bushy fox tail, which has no ring near the tip like most foxes. Her feet are bare, her wooden sandals lost long ago, as they were too worn that they actually hindered her movement.

When transformed, she is a brilliant white color, making her hard to see in snowy climates. Her body, much like when untransformed, is much smaller and lithe than a normal fox of her size. She is quite frail, even for a laguz of her species, but is also quite fast, and can see very well at night with her red eyes. Interestingly enough, while shifted, she possesses three tails as aposed to one, but this characteristic seems purely cosmetic, and perhaps even undesirable, as it can make her easier to grab onto, if anyone can catch her. Her claws and her light weight give her good leverage to climb up rough things, such as trees with bark, and stone walls with deep grooves cut into them.

Underneath her clothing and on her bare legs, are long and thin reddish scars. Someone knowledgable could identify them as Whip marks, but it wouldnt take a genius to know that it was damage to her skin. Despite the mistreatment taking place long ago, they still stick out quite clearly.

Personality:

Zilaph isn't a very talkative Laguz, although she will speak when spoken to. Her grasp of the Tellian language is actually not completely perfect, but it is adequate enough to understand most words that are spoke to her. She feels comfortable around other fox Laguz like herself, but it is more often than not a rare comfort, as she's been in a Beorc dominant country for most of her life. She is very culturally ignorant, having not been taught her whole life about much of anything that a slave would be taught, and has not gotten a chance to learn as she had been a slave for fifteen years of her life, and then living on her own in beorc-less forests up until this current point.

Zilaph had only been in heavy contact with around one Beorc early in her life for fifteen years, max compared to her 50 year life. And even though she has been more open and around Beorc for the last five, she is quite unfamilliar with the race. She has mixed feelings for them, mostly due to her enslavement. The main beorc she knew was usually nice and gentle, but only if she obeyed and understood him, to which he would punish her cruelly if she didn't. This has caused her to have a fear of angry Beorc, and a submissive attitude. When not intimidated, or acting shy, she is surprisingly quite cheerful; especially if someone is being nice to her, or she is in the company of another fox laguz.

Biography:

Zilaph was not the birth name given to her. It was a slave name, a name whos meaning meant frailty. At a young age, a secretive band of Begnion slavers posed as archeologists, traveling to Hatari for unclaimed treasure. They were indeed looking to make a profit, but in a shadier way. Hatari, being across the Desert of Death, where only a few dared cross, was a nation that had native laguz that werent common to find on the other side of Tellius. Their plan was to make a big profit by selling 'exotic' slaves to Begnion nobles at high prices. The younger, the better, as it was much easier to make children obey under the threat of torture, and they were much weaker than mature Laguz, meaning they couldn't put up much of a fight.

Silaph was around ten years old then; Hardly at all a three year old when compared to a Beorc. Her parents fought them off with the best of their ability, but the slavers weren't fools. Flame Sage mercenaries made sure that they were captured too. They spent most of their time in the slavers custody in a large container connected to a caravan pulled by six horses, which was enchanted wioth a powerful Silence spell, preventing them from making noise to alert others. They were not the first victims, nor the last ones either. The space became incredibly cramped with many Hatarian laguz over time, and they were not let out until they reached Begnion.

The large amount of laguz were kept in a stone confinement, large enough to easily house them all, but was still considerably cramped. They were cut off from the public eye, and only a few beorc were ever present at the location, but they never spoke or even paid any mind to the laguz. In fact, the only time they were even aknowledged was every once in a while, when a beorc dressed in elegant and expensive clothing stopped by, and everytime they did, one, or even more of the laguz were taken away, never to be seen again by the rest.

Food came in a comparatively small size when measured against the bulk of the laguz. This divided the laguz against themselves, adopting a survival of the fittest instinct, which is exactly what the beorc wanted. The beorc used this tactic to abuse thier minds, make them more accepting of the fact that the Beorc were in control. Many weak ones did not get to feed, and eventually perished. The same would have held true for Zilaph, had she been captured alone without her parents. Her father, Nuada, was quite powerful for a fox, and the love he had for his daughter and mate bolstered that strength, and allowed him to provide for his family.

This love eventually led to his downfall, sadly. One day, many years after their capture, an elderly looking beorc, dressed like many of the fancy ones before him, had made arrangements to take the mother of Zilaph. Being incredibly protective of his family, Nuada would not allow this, causing a large scene, in which two beorc slaver peacekeepers were slain before Flame Sages could take him down for good. With Nuada dead, there was no one in the way of taking Zilaphs mother, Lilith, away. Despite this fact, she refused to go anywhere, holding Zilaph tightly into her arms.

The old noble, while his purpose there was for a slave, and he was far from pure, felt some sympathy from this. He decided to purchase Lilith, and Zilaph as well. Zilaph was around thirty at that time, and only really knew of life confined to such a small space. It was a large and almost uncomfortable change for her, however, she soon learned that it was much more preferrable than her previous home. While physically a ten year old, she was not given any special treatment. She worked hard for her master, but it was well rewarded with a nice place to sleep, and sometihng other than scraps to eat.

Of course, there were times when she wasn't obedient, and that caused her only pain. Punishment depended on the severity of the crime, but they were all incredibly painful. In her first few weeks as a slave, Zilaph became accquainted with whips, and what they were used for. She quickly learned that disobeying wasn't an option she wanted to take. Lilith was much more stubborn, however, and Zilaph was forced to watch her mothers frequent beatings.

The noble lived in a luxurious abode, fitting for someone of his title. The servants quarters, where Zilaph and her mother lived, were not terrible, but a welcome change to what they were used to. Lilith refused to aknowledge such a man as her master though, and perhaps out of desperation, decided to teach Zilaph about combat, not wanting her to bow down to his will for as long as that noble lived. They hardly got any free time, but they could not do what he said without pause. After all, everyone needed to sleep some time.

The time they got at night to practice was very little, because it would seem very suspicious if they did not get enough sleep to last them the next day, but Zilaph had many years in which she could learn. Up until this point, whenever Zilaph shifted, she did nothing practical or useful with it, but Lilith was to change that. She first taught her about how useful her claws could be. They were made for catching prey, as well as a defense mechanism if she was ever threatened or in danger.

Unbeknownst to Lilith, the noble who had purchased them had the same idea, and wished to make a bodyguard out of Zilaph. He trusted her due to her unwavering obediance after the first weeks of work, and she seemed naive enough in that she didnt even feel wronged. This way, he could claim that she was not a slave, and allow her to be seen in public, and even use her as a tool to gain the adoration and respect of the populace. To reflect this, she was given beautiful clothes, fitting of a nobles equal, and was well groomed. This made Lilith suspicious, and she did her best to keep an eye on her daughter.

The training her master provided was much more expansive and complex than her mother could provide while in captivity, although it was quite exhausting. By the time she was finished and was to head off to the Servants quarters, she hadnt the strength to learn any more from her mother. This alarmed her, and Lilith knew there was definitely something amiss. One day, Lilith was able to eavesdrop on a conversation bewteen the noble and a person she didnt know and learned of Zilaphs harsh training. At first she was disgusted at this, holding every muscle she could back, so as to not tear their throats out, but she realized that she couldn't teach her daughter nearly as well as they could given the situation. She decided that she would turn his plan against him, but it would have to wait until Zilaph was sufficiently strong.

Zilaph's first public appearance was on her thirtieth birthday. She looked like she was in her young teens then, and always stood by her masters side. She was instructed not to talk the whole time, and only wave to the crowd if she so pleased. The noble seemed to be a political figure, known to be a Laguz sympathizer to the public. He was to give a speech about Laguz rights that day, in which he mentioned Zilaph, referring to her as only 'The Snow Beauty of Begnion'.

--
" Many years ago, I was alerted to a terrible atrocity. Laguz Slavers made their way into Begnion, with a large stock of Laguz that they planned on selling as pets. I could not allow this to stand, and so I gathered some of my men, and took down those slavers. Some were greatful, and others despised me, but I can understand that after the terrible treatment we Beorc have given them. However, there was one small child that caught my attention. She had no home, no name, and no sense of life outside enslavement. It pained me to see such a child. I had to do something, and so, in my care, I did everything in my power to make sure this child....this Snow Beauty of Begnion.... had a life fitting, as an equal to myself. She can barely speak, not having been properly taught, and she cannot understand what I am saying right now, but I am working on teaching her to speak, in hopes that one day, she will be able to come up here to say 'Thank you, Begnion. Thank you for showing me kindness where I've known only hate.'"
--

These were lies, like many political tactics of course, but she would not dare speak for fear of the pain she remembered of the whip. The crowd naturally ate it up, as he went in length and detail about the morals of Beorcan society. She was quite nervous in front of such a large, cheering crowd that she tried hiding herself behind her master, which he gladly took advantage of to say that she was so shy due to the trauma she faced in earlier times.Since then, she has made a couple more public appearances, one time even uttering in a slightly broken way 'Begnion good' To make her seem that she had made wonderful progress.

It wasnt until five years later, that Lilith found an opportune moment to escape with her daughter. The noble, who was usually so healthy, caught an illness, while not deadly, kept him bedridden and weak. Whats more, word of a revolt led by laguz began to spread, which Made the noble nervous, and had moved guards from the inside to outside. They had free reign of the whole area if they were quiet enough, and they could easily take out one or two guards at once without much if a fuss.

Lilith insisted on catching up to Zilaph later, claiming she had something to take care of first, but this made Zilaph very nervous. She tried moving on, but the nervousness made her clumsy, and she ended up being spotted trying to escape. Knowing that she would be whipped if she was caught, she ran, shifting into her fox form to get away faster. She darted off into the closest wooded area she could find, and had no choice but to leave her mother behind.

She wandered the world for many years, never staying in one place, using her combat skills to hunt for food, and for protection from Laguz haters. She mostly stayed away from any civilization as a precaution, but recently has started to visit inhabited areas, out of boredom. Her clothes have become ragged and dirty, so she is usually met with staring eyes, and usually isnt spoken to. She plans on trying to rescue her mother one day, and at that time, find her way back to where she was born.

Fox Level 8

Weapon Levels: Strike {D}
Weapons:

Hunting Claws (D): Lightweight, Catching, Camouflaged
Zilaph uses these to hunt for food. They arent meant for killing, but are rather used to catch her prey. While hunting, she avoids giving away her presence, and becomes more stealthy in order to take the enemy by surprise. She strikes fast and precise, making sure her prey doesnt escape

Deadly Bite (D): Lightweight, Cruel Curve
Zilaph goes in for the kill with these. They are fast, painful, and fatal. Her preferred way of fending off hostile Beorc, as they are much tougher to handle than animals.


Approved by Jamie!
23 Mar 2009
(IMG:http://s568.photobucket.com/albums/ss123/RoydFE/th_AlwinBlauvelt.gif)

Name:
Emmerich Blauvelt
Wyvern Named Karol

Nation: Daein

Age: 17

Race: Red Dragon Branded ((Has not started aging abnormally yet. Will start soon.))

Appearance:

Emmerich is quite strong for his age, given that he is a hard worker, along with a trait that most Dragon Laguz share. Although he has developed muscles, he is not freakishly huge, and his body's build is on par with most young men his age. He has wild, dark green hair, with a strand of it spread out and in a ponytail. Emmerichs eyes are a ocean blue color, and a light brown birthmark shows clearly under his left eye. The skin tone of Emmerich is that of a normal Daein, and has no known Dragon Laguz characteristics to speak of that would separate him from other Beorc. Emmerich's Branded mark is under his right armpit, making it well hidden -. Even from Emmerich himself. He wears a bluish-green suit of armor with spiked pauldrons, which does not seem to encumber him all that much. This is due to him being used to lifting heavy things at an early age, and can move much faster than someone who is untrained in wearing such heavy armor.

Emmerichs Wyvern, named Karol, is fairly young and small compared to any other military wyvern. Then again, Emmerich is younger and smaller than most of the elder riders, so it is not such a bad thing. Karol is a dull, muddy brown color, like many desert serpents, or mountain dwelling reptiles. The underbelly, and webbing between her wingspan is more of a sandy color.



Personality:

Emmerich is strong willed and endures hardships quite well. He had to be to work jobs fit for dockworkers. His dislike for his mother is large, but he mostly tolerated it for most of his life. Due to being raised in Daein, he has a natural prejudice against Laguz and Branded, not even knowing that he is one himself. However, he has no experience with Laguz, so he finds himself wondering about them out of curiosity. Emmerich has a strong bond with his wyvern Karol, as does she, and Emmerich feels her to be his most trusted ally, along with his commanding officer, Vyse. When Emmerich is passionate about something, he is very stubborn; If one were to change his view on something, it would be a great accomplishment. If he were to learn of his heritage, He would naturally be shocked, and even disgusted with himself. Denial would be his first instinct, but in time, he would learn to accept it.

Emmerich used to be quite quiet when he lived with his mother, as she forbade him to speak to anyone unless he was spoken to first, but when he left his home and joined a mercenary group in Daein, he learned to be more open, and to speak and make friends with his fellow mercenaries; especially Vyse.


Biography:

While Emmerich's mother was originally from Daein, she had lived most of her life in Begnion up until 9 months before his birth. His mother, Agnes Blauvelt, used to feel that it was wrong for Daein to persecute Laguz, up until a group of Renegade Dragons, broken off from Goldoa, came and raided and murdered many from her town. Agnes herself was one of the few who were spared, although she was left with an unwanted gift. From that day on, she wanted nothing to do with Laguz, moving back to Daein to take to her roots. A month or so later, she realized, with horror as her stomach started to swell, that the day the Dragon Laguz attacked, that she was cursed.

When Emmerich was born, she despised him, although she could not help but feel a strong maternal urge with the innocent and helpless child, and deep withing her heart was a small hint of love. This was the only reason she did not kill him, but she did not make his life easy. Even as a small child, she was strict and downright horrifying. He was taught to speak, but forbidden to use it unless spoken to. If he ever defied her, he would be poked with a sharp instrument, often leading to bleeding. By the time he was 5, he was forced to start working to pay for his own food and board, usually doing heavy labor far beyond the capabilities of a normal child that age.

He never asked why he was being treated like this, for fear of another stab. He assumed that everyone was treated this way, until his employer started to show him hints of kindness. This made him unsure, but he still did not get close to anyone to find out, as he was strictly taught not to. He kept relationships on a strictly professional level, and so he remained huddled in his own world with himself and his mother. Over the years, he became more and more agitated at his mothers opression, which eventually led to his decision to leave his hometown of Whiterock without the consent of this mother.

He traveled far and wide, with a large sack of stolen foods that he took while his mother was sleeping, and eventually found himself in Talrega. It seemed like a nice place to him, but any place was better than what he endured in Whiterock. He found himself a job as a stablemaster for Wyverns. Despite his inexperience, he seemed to be a natural. He tended to the Wyverns day in and day out, living in a small house beside the stable which was provided to someone who took the job. He worked hard, and he enjoyed the company of the wyverns, and they seemed to enjoy his.

It was there he met Karol. Karol was still young for a wyvern, probably about the size of Emmerich himself. He took a shining to her, as she seemed curious enough about Beorc that she would watch over him while he worked. Emmerich felt happy for the first time in a long time, now feeling that he had a purpose in life. He felt some connection between himself in the wyverns, especially Karol, and that was the most wonderful feeling in the world for him.

His job, in essence, was simple. He fed them, washed them, tended to their wounds and sicknesses; you name it, he did it. His employer, Vyse Strahnbrad, had watched over him the first few days of Emmerichs job. He recognized and respected that the strength, and gentleness he showed. He had seen Emmerich carry large crates, filled with meat for the Wyverns to feed on all by himself, and he always saw him treating the Wyverns as if they were his children. Vyse noted this, and this went on for a few months, before Vyse confronted him.

Vyse, who owned the stables, was also a Commander of a Mercenary group of Wyvern Riders. Seeing potential in Emmerich, he spoke with him about his future. Emmerich was completely content with living a peaceful life tending to the wyverns, but it seemed like a great opportunity to get even closer to the wyverns, and eventually more Beorc. It was an opportunity to travel and see parts unknown to him, and he felt like he was meant to follow this path. Why he felt this way was unknown to him, but he was determined to see it through.

Over the next three years, in addition to tending to the wyverns, Emmerich trained and honed his skills in combat, and as he did, Karol grew. She grew large enough to become a suitable mount for Emmerich, and when it came time to select a mount as his partner, there was no hesitation. Karol had something special that the other wyverns didn't. Emmerich knew this, but he did not know what. It was a feeling; his intuition that shouted that Karol was the mount for him. In that time, the use and weight of Axes, and soaring through the sky became like a second nature to him.

Since then, Emmerich has become more outgoing with the Beorc mercenaries he was a part of, although he never talked about his past, opting to try and forget about his mother and move on. Within these three years, he has seen his fair share of battles and has killed many Beorc and Laguz alike. In his mind, it was the right thing to do. For one reason, getting bandits and scum who would harm innocents, and another, to thin out the Laguz population, to which he was taught to be a race of evil, mindless, and heartless creatures. He hangs onto this belief, feeling good that he is able to help out the world by driving them out of Tellius.

What will happen next remains shrouded in mystery, but there is one thing that is certain. He will learn of his heritage, and so will everyone he is close to, for his body is getting to the point where it will not age as fast as a Beorcs. His mark, hidden underneath his armpit has kept him unaware of what he really is, but it cant stay hidden forever.


Won 1 WEXP from Tellian Lotto #5

Won 1 level from Tellian Lotto #6

Won 1 WEXP from Tellian Lotto #7


Timeline:

Year 745
----
Spring- N/A
Summer- N/A
Fall- N/A
Winter- N/A


Year 746
----
Spring- N/A
Summer- ?Life altering event?
Fall- N/A
Winter- N/A







Wyvern Knight Level 6

Weapon Levels: Axes - E 2/5
Weapons:

-Steel Battle Axe
Battle Axe
+1 Steel
While Emmerich is very used to wielding weapons and is comfortable with their weight, His combat experience in live exercises is little, and therefore he is a bit inexperienced. Coupled with the fact that the armory for the Vyse Mercenaries is nowhere near as fancy as a Royal armies barracks, he uses a basic weapon that isn't too complex, although he wields it well.

Approved by IB!
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