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27 years old
Born Aug-14-1991
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FETO Profile

RP Data
My Content
16 Apr 2008
Full Name: Lee Taleon
Nick Name:
Gender: Female
Race: Human
Liked Deities: Rinia, Cinedar
Neutral Deities: Ohmtec, Kiene, Kietos, Taala, Anexia
Age: 19
Height: 5'6"
Weight: 129lbs
Birthplace: Pernasai, Fissa

Special Abilities:
- Lee is a fair chef, having been made to cook the meals of the mercenaries almost every day.

Inventory: Twin daggers held in black leather sheaths on her waist. Four throwing knives, two tucked into each wrist band.

Appearance: Having lived with male mercenaries, Lee had to make do with what she had to last in her first battles. Her build gradually became small and lithe, a body perfect for her style of combat - quick, hit and run. In those early days, her hair had been short cropped, often confusing her fellow students of her gender, and even worse the young women at the markets. Now however, her dark brown hair that matches her chocolate eyes is long and layered, and she is only ever taken as a man for her choice of attire.

Not a fan of the women's dresses that trail along in the mud, Lee prefers to let her dark baggy trousers get dirty. Her boots are made of light leather and allow for her quick movements. The dull yellow, long-sleeved shirt is a little less loose than her trousers, and is tied at the waist with thick, pale green cloth. The same coloured cloth is used for wrist bands on both arms. A smooth silk band around her upper arm bears the faded, interlocking chain design of the deity Rinia.

Personality: Boy-ish in actions and a ready fighter if need be, Lee fits perfectly with her mercenary companions. In fact, her only real influences in life have been those men. Sometimes she feels as though they baby her too much, their subconscious act probably due to the tendency to view her as another helpless young woman underneath. This irks her a little, but she still appreciates their care.

Having been taken as a boy for a lot of her life, Lee has developed a good tolerance for people. If not for that, she would easily gain a reputation for being an angry and short tempered person. Her tolerance only travels as far as that however, as she holds a grudge against authority, deciding that Fissa's government is far from what it should be. Whilst she ponders the disarray of the country, her respect is given to the deities Rinia and Cinedar for their justice and order.

She may acknowledge that fighting is a part of life, she doesn't particularly enjoy combat. To her, there isn't much that is 'glorious' about it, as many say. Despite that she continues to train herself for when it is needed.

Background: Found as a baby by Ahn, Lee was cared for and raised by men in a small mercenary group in Pernesai. Ahn soon adopted her as his own and, when she was old enough to walk, began teaching her to fight. At first it was a battle for her to be accepted as a potential asset to the mercenaries. Although the men had been supportive of Ahn in his bid to take care of her, allowing her to train with them was asking too much of the rowdy bunch. However she proved herself a worthy companion, impressing the others with her sneaky prank on some local guards. The guards had been harassing some young ladies when she slipped some sleeping drought in their whiskey. The next morning they found themselves tied to a pole in the town centre with nothing but their belts.

Living in an environment surrounded by males, she took up many of their habits, often being mistaken for a boy herself with her then short-cropped hair. As she grew a little older, she was soon made the attention of young women at the markets she attended to purchase the mercenary band's supplies on her own. Many found her to be nothing more than a cute young lad to be pampered like a baby, but the worst of the kind were those that actually declared they would await her for marriage. Eventually, Ahn decided to force all the men to take on the job to lift some stress off Lee. He also forced her to at least grow out her hair.

The mercenaries she lived with were not a very impressive group compared to others they had come across, but they were reliable during the frequent raids that swept the city's farming establishments. It was during one such raid that Lee was first thrust into the reality of the battles her carers participated in. Having disobeyed Ahn's orders to stay at home, Lee followed the group and quickly found herself caught in the grasp of a gruff invader. Having witnessed the capture, Ahn made to win her back, but was cut off by two others. Lee had no choice but to help herself, and with a struggle managed to escape the man's clutches, spitting the taste of blood from her mouth as he wailed at the bite marks on his arm. He fell to a hard blow to his knees with the carpenter's hammer she had snatched from the dirt.

She was punished severely for her disobedience by Ahn, confined to the house for weeks. Two other raids were just barely fought back during her detainment, the most the city had seen in such short a period. Pernasai was in disarray, and Lee was more than happy to have been safe inside. However it gave her time to ponder, as she had not done so before, why there had been no placement of proper order over Fissa, and what was there was nothing more than corrupt and uncaring. This only served to spur a hate for authority, and a fascination for the justice of Rinia and the order of Cinedar. It wasn't until months later did she discover that Ahn had actually been proud of her that day she fought the much larger man.

After Pernasai had recovered a little from the attacks and Lee was allowed to join the men outside of home once again, life seemed to be just as it was before. The months droned by with raids here and there, Lee now participating but only as a last resort by Ahn's wishes. It seemed to be another typical day as she sat with the men at the tavern, glad to be in the company of her mercenary companions as the others got more and more drunk, but appearance of a figure clad in complete black and a Taala woman changed the mood. She watched in interest as the drunks approached the Taala woman and the battle that ensued shortly thereafter with a second woman joining the fray. The battle finally died down without her even leaving her seat, and the black clad figure and Taala left the tavern.

6 Nov 2007
Name: Marco Orsini
Age: 22
Homecountry: Arad'uun
Affinity: Wind
Gender: Male
Height: 6'0"
Weight: 168 lbs

Personality: Can't get enough of the world. Marco is a very curious and adventurous character who likes to learn new things, and question anything and everything. He holds philosophy very highly, quick to lend an ear to his father's ramblings on life and knowledge. His father often called him a philosopher in the making. His curiosity stretched from his already too familiar home by the age of twelve and he has since dreamt of traveling the world to learn more. His only apprehension for fulfilling this dream is he has no real idea of how to interact with other people, having only known his father and a few passing travelers for the entirety of his life.

Marco is a rather carefree spirit, unburdened by the pressures of city life. He's gained his fair share of scars over the years due to his carefree and adventurous manner. He jumps straight into things without any thought to his well-being, given that some new information lies on the other side. This daredevil-ish trait often had him scolded and lectured by his father on thinking more about the risks instead of solely on the knowledge.

Marco prides himself on his climbing, having perfected the skill scaling the great trees of Arad'uun. He loves heights, finding his way to the treetops to ponder on some new ideas and imagine the world past his hills whenever he has the time. He feels he can better think things through when he's up high.

Appearance: Well toned muscles with sun-kissed skin, Marco is the perfect image of a hardworking, adventurous young man. Ever since a hunting accident when he was a boy of seven, his scruffy dark auburn hair has been streaked with a white patch on the left side of his head. This scar's brother makes its mark on his left upper arm, the jagged blemish prominent against the other faint scars on his skin from his various expeditions. His pale grey eyes, sharp and ever searching for something new, sit nicely above his high cheekbones. Marco's face is all together pleasing to the eye, mainly due to his kind, curious smile.

He wears his father's old clothes, the worn out fabric much paler than their former shades. The tattered mahogany vest lies open, revealing his black cloth bound abdomen. Fading grey pants cover his legs, tucked under his knee-high boots to conceal the frayed endings. More black cloth sparsely binds his boots to his legs, holding up the tired material. From the dark red leather belt about his waist hung a small pouch in which he held various items. Only the iron lance engraved with scarlet flames down the shaft, given to him by his father, and the tiny silver wing pendant, a memento from his mother, remain timelessly impressive.

Bio: Catherine and Marcellus, Marco's mother and father, met in Valhassa. She was a fine young woman, kind hearted and well educated. He was a young mercenary, a great believer in justice and fascinated by philosophy. Marcellus and his troop came upon the great city after suffering great damage from a bandit ambush. A broken and bleeding Marcellus stumbled onto a doorstep, and through his blurry vision, he saw the glint of tiny silver wings, then allowed gentle hands to find him comfort. When he came to, he found himself in a fine manor with an auburn haired young lady twisting a cloth in worry. For the next few days, Catherine nursed him back to health, and the two soon became close, enjoying long philosophical discussions on life. Marcellus felt at home here with her, and smiled and laughed along with her family. He felt he may actually grow to...love her.

The kind dream soon ended, however, when Catherine's father returned from his travels. The hard faced man, anger forever etched around his mouth, demanded he leave and forget about his daughter. Even the mercenary troop called him out to claim revenge on the lowly bandits. With a forced smile upon her face, Catherine urged him to go, knowing full well what her father would do if he didn't.

Reluctantly, Marcellus left, but the thought of Catherine hung heavy in his heart. In his dazed state, he nearly lost his life, barely managing to impale the furious bandit with his lance. In that moment, he made his decision, running back to Valhassa halfway through the battle.

Concealed by the dark of night, he called for Catherine and asked her to run away with him. Although she wanted to, she was unsure, still afraid of her father's wrath. It was only with the encouraging and loving approval of her mother did the pair steal away through the darkness. Escaping to Arad'uun, the two were married under the witness of the crescent moon.

Months later, a heavily pregnant Catherine fell ill. A frantic Marcellus worried day in and day out. They found their home tucked far into the hills, living in isolation, and she was in no condition to travel to find help. As a healthy baby boy was born, a frail Catherine demanded her husband to take care of their child, and then slipped away with the name Marco on her lips.

Marco grew into a cheerful young man, always wanting to know more and always willing to help out his father. The two lived contently, taking from the land only what they needed to survive. When he was seven, Marco secretly followed his father out on a hunting trip, curious on how his father fought. Suddenly, he found himself cornered by beasts, and slipped and fell onto jagged rocks. Waking back at home to his father's scolding, with bandages around his head and left arm, rather than forgetting the world after his near death experience, he grew to appreciate it more. That was the birth of his dream to travel. He became a skilled hunter under his father's guidance, and often spoke on philosophy as they headed home every evening.

Marco's interest in the world grew even more as he met the first travelers to come by their home. They were the first men he had seen who weren't his own father. They spent the night resting at their home, and Marco asked them everything he could think of, marveling at the tales they told under the loving eye of his father. Since then, a few other traveling groups passed by, sharing tales of far off lands over a warm, welcoming fire.
On a crisp evening, sitting atop a tree and watching the orange water color sunset fade to twilight blue, Marco decided, it was time to take hold of his dream.

Class: Lancer
Level: 1

Weapons: Iron Lance
Weapon Levels:
Lance - E

Additional Notes/Comments:
- Due to living in the wild his whole life, Marco is illiterate.
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What is pocky? xD
and cheezwizard wins :O
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Sexy Samus
first comment, I win the internet
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