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You'd probably have more luck talking with a lump of mashed potatoes.

0 · 574 views · located in Fantasy Earth

a character in “Age of the Colossus”, as played by Averagebear


You'd probably have more luck talking with a lump of mashed potatoes.


Name: Daemeth Torwind, but he's given up his last name.

Nickname: "I s-s-swear if you even t-t-think about c-callin' me 'Meth' I'll stab you..." He doesn't like nicknames. Too many of them are foul and rude so he prefers for people to just call him Daemeth.

Title: The Wandering Noose. Yeah, he's not so fond of it. A title exploiting the fact that his mama killed herself and his brother shortly after would clearly set him off for obvious reasons. He'll be grumpy for weeks if you so much as mention the word "Noose".

Race: Tiefling

Visual Age: Teenhood to early twenties

Factual Age: 25

Gender: Male

Sexual Orientation: Indifferently heterosexual

Role: Scout, survivalist, McGyver problem solver, Wildthornberry (communication with critters), dosage of grumpiness.

Class: Ranger

Theme Song:


Hair: Jet black, bordering on greasy and shiny.

Facial Hair: He prefers it to be gone. He gets scruffy sometimes, though.

Eyes: A bluish steel color

Eye Brows: Thick with slashes through one side from a magical marring that prevented any hair from growing from then on out.

Ears: Long and pointed with ceremonial gauges in them.

Nose: Curved and feminine, just like a button!

Lips: Full for a male and typically chapped.

Build: Nothing remarkable going on here. He's on the leaner side of average.

Skin Tone: Pretty dark with reddish tints.

Height: 5'9

Weight: 152


Handed: Left

Body Markings: No tattooing and such going on here.

Scar Tissue: He's got an eclectic array of scars given from traveling around the world and camping in the wilderness. He doesn't really keep track of what's a wound still healing and what's permanently there forever. He tries to avoid looking at himself, really.

Unique Body Features: Well, there's the whole "I have horns!" thing going for him.


Quirks: Daemeth's got a stutter, and a bad one. He's always tripping over his words. Furthermore, he's usually very cold (as he was raised to live near volcanoes) and wears a lot of clothing. He blushes blue!

Virtue/Creed: "Grumble, grumble, grumble, martyr, grumble, growl."

Motivation: To remedy all he can to compensate for all he's ruined.

Goal: Clear his guilty conscience.

Fear: Being eternally condemned.

  • Stella: She's the husky hound he inherited after the passing of his brother. She was born a freak- without any eyeballs- but they rescued her and now she is his best friend and shadow.
  • Animals: Cute and furry or otherwise. There are a couple of kinds that are a little irksome, though- lizards for one. Always so sassy.
  • Handy-work: He practically lives for tying ropes and whittling wood. Anything that requires him to busily move his fingers.
  • Praise: What can he say? He more than most is susceptible to kind words after a life filled with harsh ones. Expect a potent blush, though.
  • Outdoors: Not much can calm him more than greenery and fresh air.
  • Over-wear: He's a sucker for a nice scarf or wooly coat. Surest way to his heart.

  • Humanoids: Oh, alright. Maybe dislike isn't quite the word. He's wary and bitter and hesitant when it comes to anything that can speak with words, pretty much. They have a tendency to favor prejudice over good judgment. He's much safer talking to the squirrels.
  • Cold: Ack, how he hates it. He's an adaptive guy and will stick it through a tough winter if need-be but he much rather prefers sunshine and sand.
  • Liquor: This may or may not have to do with the fact that he cries every time he's drunk. Every. Time. Daemeth doesn't cry.
  • Authority: He has a habit of stretching rules. He's spent most of his life as "The Wandering Noose", going from place to place as a lone militia and when a particular place has guards that are all pushy about enforcement, he gets real annoyed.
  • His Appearance: Oh, come now. Even if he didn't have nasty horns and floppy ears, he'd still look like a twelve year old.

Strengths: He's a crafty bastard and has an innate ability to survive. He'll find a way to keep himself (and you if you're around) alive with all the gusto of a cockroach. Whether this means knowing a particular bark to eat should all other food sources escaped your party or an ability to make a tent out of just about anything, he's got a snack for sustainability. He's handy with a blade, excellent with a bow, and an overall great hunter, but that might have something to do with the fact that he can coerce them to kill themselves... In any case, he's also got thick skin. Literally. It comes from having demonic ancestors. He's also got a bit of a hero complex, which works in favor for anyone working with him. He just can't stand to see someone suffering, even if he pretends to be an aloof bastard.

Weaknesses: Well, a skinny and short Tiefling isn't exactly the best power house known to man, no matter how tough his skin is. He's not even very quick, either. Any combat that's not ranged is just a no-go, basically.

Personality Description: Daemeth is a sour fellow, irritable and unsociable to the very core of him. He assumes that everyone in the whole world will eventually wrong him because everyone so far has, which has left a very bitter taste in his mouth that he can't seem to shake off. He's been alone now for the better of a decade, an independent vigilante living by his own accord with his own materials and his own capabilities. He has a way with destroying words, a horrible stutter and anxious wording marring the language he speaks every time he opens his mouth. Despite being so good at fending for himself, he gets more embarrassed than any grown man ought to. He's got a rather nasty blue-tinted blush that creeps onto his face whenever he knows he's just messed up a greeting or a thank you or something similar. While he dislikes being around people, he doesn't actually dislike people period. He believes there are many out there who do wonderful things for one another, but he just doesn't fit into the equation. Speaking of which, there's quite a bit of self-loathing pumping through that body of his. He was a mistake by nature, a blemish on the world's face and he believes this with an unsettling conviction.

Most important of all, Daemeth is still growing. He's never really done much interacting with people because the first 15 years or so of his life were spent being ostracized by society while he tried to console his depressed mother and took it out on all the human children with harsh words and violence, while the next ten were spent in more-or-less isolation. He's only ever made enemies and deals. It's really no wonder why he's complete and total shit at talking. This idea of working with other people for a common cause is new to him. Spending so much time around others is making him feel foreign and way too complicated. He's not sure if he likes it better now when he has to think about the things he does and how they will affect how other people feel (still working on that one) or before when everything was so simple but horribly lonely. The funny thing is, he didn't even know he was lonely until he realized what it was like to not be. He never questioned whether associating with strictly animals and a couple merchants here and there was fulfilling or not because it was the only thing he'd ever known. He's learning many things and is a bit star-struck. People tease him about it all the time. His response? "Sh-sh-sh-sh-shut up!" Funny how a 25 year old champion of the wilderness could be so childish, inn'it?



Rating System
[Perfect] - [Excellent] - [Good] - [Above Average] - [Average] - [Below Average] - [Poor] - [Very Poor]

Combat Prowess
[Very Poor] Hand-to-Hand Combat: He can't land a punch to save his life. He hasn't been in enough bars to test it out, either.

[Below Average] Melee Combat: He's only decent with a blade if the attacker isn't too excellent at being strong or fast. He could probably take a normal enemy with a sword if he had one.

[Excellent] Armed Combat: Now this is where he can shine. He carries with him at all times his bow a quiver, and all too many hours around empty camp sites have given him plenty of time to perfect his aim. He's even proficient with throwing knives.

[Very Poor] Magic Combat: What's he look like, Tinker Bell? </resentment> Aside from animal empathy, the magic gene passed him.

[Excellent] Mounted Combat: He's done enough of it that it'd be a crime not to be good at it. His life is traveling on a horse for fuck's sake.

Racial Abilities
[Good] Cunning: Havin' a devil for a dad apparently passes down an ingenuity trait. He's a smart cookie though sometimes it's hard to tell.

[Perfect] Self-reliance: When the world turns its back on you, you just kinda have to move on and learn how to fend for yourself. Daemeth is a master of this, and usually prefers solitude.

[Poor] Deception: While he feels guilty after having used it, he should have the potential to be naturally as manipulative as any fiend. He can tell elaborate lies in his brain and he could probably spit them out if it weren't for his rather unfortunate speaking disability.

Class Techniques
[Excellent] Call of the Wild: He can communicate with the animals around him, which proves useful when predicting an oncoming threat.

[Excellent] Lend a Paw: He has the ability to persuade animals to fight along side him, simple enough. This is especially good when talking about his mutated hound, who fancies snacking of enemy's throats and his steed who's trained in the art of trampling. These two animals would listen to his calls even if he didn't have animal empathy, so they are more or less always on his side. However, even stranger animals (like a bear in a cave) can usually be called to help if there isn't something like lightning or fire to scare it off.

[Excellent] Exploiting the Outdoors: He can find five practical uses for just about any material found out there.

Learned Skills
[Excellent] Knowledge on Foraging and Gathering: A brother's gotta eat somehow. He has a pretty wide vocabulary of wildlife plants to snag or avoid at all costs. He even has a handheld journal he carries with him that he's scribbled down descriptions pictures in as a guide.

[Perfect] Hunting: He could hunt well without the whole "animal hypnosis" working for him. With his persuasion, though, dinner literally cooks itself. He used to be shy about it but has since given up on feeling bad about a few burnt tails. The way he persuades them, they don't even know that they're doing something against their will so it's not like they're begging for mercy as they're jumping in a fire.

[Good] Buildin' n' Junk: Don't get him wrong, he's no carpenter, but he can fix a wagon and make a bow if it comes down to it.

[Good] First Aid: Again, it's not like he has divine powers working with him to heal his wounds, but he knows how to bandage and stitch- stuff necessary to live.


Rating System
[Perfect] - [Excellent] - [Good] - [Above Average] - [Average] - [Below Average] - [Poor] - [Very Poor]

[Perfect] Hunting & Tracking: They speak to him. 'Nuff said.

[Excellent] Survival: It's one of the only things he knows how to do and he's done it damn well so far.

[Very Poor] Stealth & Guile: He kinda... clomps, for lack of a better word. Grace is not on his side and he's never really had to work on it because scaring off game wasn't a problem. He's a loud dude and not very fast either.

[Very Poor] Barter: With discrimination running deep and his blatant way of being complete and total shit with people... it's hard enough for him to purchase anything at all.

[Below Average] Leadership: He can micromanage himself and his crew of animals well enough. But... his stutter and lack of social grace kinda keep him out of the ranks of becoming the next head hancho in the village. Oh, how his potential political career weeps.

[Very Poor] Tact: It's like he doesn't know such thing exists. He's has a gift, almost, where he accidentally blurts out literally offensive thing possible.

[Good] Honor: He's no shining warrior with fanning golden locks and all the acclaim in the world, but he won't strike a weaponless opponent and he won't turn his back on a comrade.

[Excellent] Courage: If your purpose for living is to be a good person, being cowardly would mean rolling around in death itself. He's got to be courageous and he reminds himself of this every time he wants to run away.

[Very Poor] Bloodthirst: He naturally repels any feelings of blood thirst, more so than a normal person, perhaps, because he's determined not to give into stereotypes of his people.

[Very Poor] Wealth: Very poor, literally. He doesn't really own much of anything. He feeds himself and makes his own tools. It's weird for him to be carrying any currency.

Strength: [3] Doughy Baby - He just doesn't have any muscle mass, nor the real need to use it. He's got enough to fend for himself and shoot a damn straight shot, which has been enough so far.

Perception: [9] Monocled Falcon - Well, he might as well have a forreal monocled falcon on his side. It's less of what he personally is able to perceive and more of how all the critters tell him what's up.

Endurance: [7] Tough-as-nails - Remember what I said about Daemeth being a cockroach? Yup. Endurable as hell.

Charisma: [1] Misanthrope - Oh god, just don't make him t-t-t-t-t-t-t-talk.

Intelligence: [5] Knowledgeable - I mean, there's definitely potential there but he technically is barely literate. He can grasp complex ideas easily and is a super quick learner (it's in his blood as a tiefling) but he's never been able to put it to use.

Agility: [2] Accident Prone - Unless he's on his horse, he's screwed. Scrawny legs don't carry far these days.

Luck: [1] 13-Pitch Black Cats - The world just doesn't seem to be on his side. His past proves it.


Nada! Horns and head gear don't coincide.

As many scarves as he can possibly find.

A black, leather tunic that offers a decent amount of protection. Not against swords or anything, but regular weathering.

He's got a backpack full of anything and everything he needs to survive and his quiver full of arrows.

This is where he usually has his bow slung.

Right Hand
He's got two pairs of leather gloves, one fingerless and the other with. The weather decides which he uses that day.

Left Hand

Accessorizing is for people with money and/or family and friends who give gifts, neither of which apply to him.

A belt is 'round his waist on which a couple little bags are strapped to, one containing his handbook, the other dried fruit, etc.

Warm fur pants/leggings always.

Worn calf-height boots he's had for years.

Primary Weapon
Weapon Name: Zayne
Weapon Type: Bow
Material: Birch wood
Ammo: Arrows
Length: 32 inches
Weight: couple pounds
Weapon Description/Info: Zayne is an all black bow that Daemeth carved himself when he lived with his family. Aside from having monumental emotional attachment, it is also the best bow he's ever personally used and all the years of working with it make it so familiar to his fingers that it's more of an extension of his arm than a weapon.

Secondary Weapon
Weapon Name: N/A
Weapon Type: Blade
Material: BronzeImage
Ammo: N/A
Length: 5 in
Weight: about a pound
Weapon Description/Info: This is just a knife he uses for skinning animals, cutting ropes, marking into trees. He's never really thought about it but he actually uses it many times a day.


A water filter, a blanket, a compass, his hand book, a piece of charcoal for writing, flint, rope, wire, bandages, needle and thread, home-made balms and remedies, usually some type of fruit or jerky, a large flask is tucked safely into his backpack at all times. It sounds like it's a lot, but the things are actually all quite small and fit rather neatly.

Magical Devices

Zayne, his quiver and arrows, and the knife he carries.


Marital Status Single (and has been for a decade)

Relatives All deceased. He had a human mother and a tiefling brother, but he never knew his father so he doesn't consider him a relative at all.

Birthplace Veritas, The Grey Empire of the Ashlands

Occupation Wanderer

Recruitment He'd sort of stumbled upon a Golem when he was exploring and had just made the decision to do the best he could to take it down with just his steed and hound when the band of fighters showed up. The rest is really history.

His past is no more than a hum-drum folk song, really. His mum had been raped by a Tiefling man and Daemeth's older brother, Kiane (as seen in the picture), was the result. It was more than just an in-out procedure, though. The man had found out about the child and came back into her life to demand involvement in Kiane's. Naturally, there was a lot of abuse and the such involved and it was six years later after several more rapings that Daemeth was born. When Daemeth came into the picture, his mum couldn't bare the thought of raising not one but two children within the grasps of her abuser and ran away from Veritas all the way to the Kingdom of Nexus. He grew up with his mum being horribly, horribly depressed but it was understandable considering every day she looked into her children's eyes, she saw the man who ruined her life. Furthermore, though they moved in hopes of sanctity, they were met with discrimination and hate from the humans, despite the fact that Daemeth and Kiane were only half Tiefling and they cursed it more than the strangers ever could dream. They stuck to the outskirts of town, mostly, choosing the wilderness over the piercing glares. Struggling with the fury of outsiders and a loathing of his own being, Daemeth became a broody little mutt and learned how to lash out at those who caused him misery. He fought with all the spit fire any Tiefling could. If they called him a monster, so he would be. He hadn't thought it out well, to say the least, because it wasn't long before their home was getting all sort of death threats- blood splattered on their front door, ominous messages left on their porch. Kiane wanted his brother to let go of his resentment and went through motions to calm him- persuade him not to fight but to accept. Kiane was a gentle boy and one with a maturity of a thousand elders and the same gift of animal empathy that Daemeth has today only five times greater. He was the original owner of Stella. He'd found her half-drowned in a puddle and brought her home about the same time they moved to Nexus.

Daemeth was getting into more and more trouble around town the older he got. One day, Kiane stumbled upon Daemeth laying in the streets with his face beaten in, unconscious. Apparently, he'd dragged him home and when he arrived, mum was hanging from the lamp post out back. Kiane and Daemeth wished no more than to mourn alone, but suddenly the community became very interested in their family, acting as if the death of their mother was a terrible tragedy. Women wept and people left flowers, yet their eyes bared the sharpest glares at the two adolescent boys. "Their fault. Look at what they did to their poor mother." cycled on and on and on until Kiane hung himself in the same place his sire had, unable to cope with the blame of her death. When he found his body, Stella barking incessantly below, Daemeth didn't even cut his body from the rope. He simply packed his things, hopped on his horse, took the dog, and left town. Stella cried and cried and cried and cried until finally Daemeth was too and then all they had was each other. They grew inseparable with the absence of Kiane tying them together. It's easy to say he never looked back, but he has and does almost every day. It's been about ten years since then and he still thinks about his family with a terrible sadness. He will survive, though, as it's the last thing he owes them. And he will make up for his existence which made his mom (and therefore his brother) as sad as she was in the first place by righting any wrong he comes across.

So begins...

Daemeth's Story