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Kestrel

"Raise your blade against Miss Daphelia, and you raise your blade against me."

0 · 58 views · located in Taakeira

a character in “Tales of the Otherworld”, as played by Flexar

Description

Kestrel



Image
Role: The Sentinel

Age: 27

Gender: Male

Personality: Kestrel is a very dutiful person, he puts his work above all else, often at his own expense. He has deprived himself of sleep many times to protect Daphelia and raised his blade in her defense many times. He is always focused on completing the task he has been set, and often argues with Daphelia about not getting sidetracked, but always loses the argument. He prefers to use his strength to prove a point over words.

Nationality: Dharan

Appearance: Kestrel is a well-built man, standing 6'3" with a slender, yet muscular, build. His long, ebony hair, well tanned skin and chocolate brown eyes make it clear that he's a Dharan, and that's not mentioning his clothes. He wears a marsh green and oak bark brown tunic, decorated with Kal Hadranian designs, a leaf green scarf and stone grey trousers, all of which are crafted from Khari Bush leaves crushed up and woven into fibres. He also wears thick, leather, falconer's gloves and thick, black, leather boots. His sword and its scabbard are clipped onto his belt and his longbow is slung over his shoulder.

Magical Abilities: None.

Weapon: Kestrel uses the traditional weapons of a Kal Hadranian hunter, a bow and a longsword. He crafted his own bow from yew wood when he was 10 years old, and fletches all his own arrows. The bow is a work of art, a phoenix is elegantly carved onto one side of the bow, and a dragon on the other. His longsword is a good metre long, if not more. The blade is a strange, green tinted metal and the hilt is crafted from leather and steel. Kestrel calls his sword "Windshear".

History: Kestrel was born into the Kal Hadran tribe in Dhara as Clha'Rei, one of the few tribes the slave traders wouldn't dare approach. The Kal Hadran were a static tribe, and so Clha'Rei enjoyed the comfort of a constant home. He grew up as a normal child, learning to read, write, and other essential practices such as sacred rituals. Upon reaching 10, the time came for him to craft his own bow. Spending months on his bow, he stopped only at what he considered to be perfection. His bow was beautifully crafted from yew wood and had engravings of a dragon and a phoenix, one on each side of the bow. His father took him hunting with some of the other tribesmen, where Clha'Rei made his first kill. It was a perfect shot, his arrow pierced the deer's jugular artery perfectly, killing it in a single shot. Whether it was true skill or just a fluke nobody could say, but it did prove that Clha'Rei was worth training. His father continued to train him in the art of archery, and he was made a sword by the clan smith.

Clha'Rei left the tribe after a humiliating defeat in a duel against his rival for the hand of the woman he loved at the age of 19. Clha'Rei wandered aimlessly until he ended up in Thania. There he met Lord Howe, a nobleman who was searching for more guards for his manor. Clha'Rei took the job and carried it out dutifully. His name changed to Kestrel during his employment, Howe was unable to pronounce his name correctly, and just called him Kestrel. The name stuck, and he continues to use it now.

Daphilia was born a year or so after Kestrel's employment, and Howe assigned him as her bodyguard. He continued to watch over her as she grew, and left with her when she set off to improve foreign relations with Thania. He has had to protect her against the many dangers of the outside world, such as highwaymen and vicious animals. The two continue to travel Taakeira, never expecting to wind up involved with a girl from another world.

So begins...

Kestrel's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Patricia Emerson Character Portrait: Kestrel

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#, as written by Flexar
The sunlight streaming gently through Kestrel's window dragged him back into consciousness, dragging with it the aching pain of the bruises he had acquired last night. He could remember the fight vividly, more vividly than he would have preferred.

He had been sitting at the bar, minding his own business when a group of racist locals approached him and began heckling him. He had ignored them at first, but after one had shoved him for a reaction, Kestrel gave him his reaction, but not the one he had hoped for. Kestrel grabbed the man by his head and slammed it into the marble bar counter, not quite killing him, but ensuring he'd never speak a word of sense again. The rest of his lackeys put up a better fight than expected, giving him a few bruises, but that was nothing in comparison to what he had done to them. The initial victim wouldn't be the only one with brain damage, and every single one would have been left with some form of permanent damage. One guard had walked past the bar during the fight, but had thought better of going in and confronting the large man who was throwing fully grown men around like rag dolls. The innkeeper had been less than pleased. There were blood stains everywhere, and some items of furniture had been completely destroyed. It had seemed rather comical, the chubby, little man with a walrus moustache ranting away at a man who could, and quite possibly would, kill him with ease. Kestrel told him that Lord Howe would have the money he needed to replace the destroyed furniture. For a man of Howe's wealth, such items would seem as expensive as bread rolls.

Kestrel put on all the attire he did not sleep in on immediately and left his room. He knocked on the door of Daphelia's room and awaited a response. None came. He could leave Daphelia alone for a while, she would be perfectly safe here.

After breakfasting, Kestrel decided to leave and go for a short morning walk, he needed some fresh air to fully wake himself up. His boots thudded softly against the cobbled streets of Fvorg, it was a nice enough, little seaside town, but it would be far nicer if the weather would brighten up occasionally. Oddly enough, the dismal weather Taakeira had been experiencing appeared to have abandoned Fvorg and given way to a cold, crisp winter's morning. Despite having lived outside Dhara for many years now, he still found the condensation of his breath rather novel, Dharan temperatures had never strayed below twenty degrees centigrade.

His strolling brought him to Fvorg's beach, a beach that would be beautiful were it not covered in driftwood and other kinds of rubbish that people had tossed into the sea, broken tools, lobster pots, unconscious people and the like. Wait, unconscious people? Kestrel rubbed his eyes and took another look at the shore, there was a young girl lying on the beach, soaked to the core and dressed in the most peculiar of clothes. Kestrel approached her and dragged her further up the beach so that the tide would not carry her away. He checked her pulse to make sure she wasn't dead. Sure enough, he could feel the blood pumping through her wrist, much to his relief. He didn't want to be seen on the beach dragging the corpse of a young girl around with him. He shook her gently in an attempt to wake her.
"Miss?" Kestrel asked her as he continued to shake her, shaking more and more forcefully as he did so, "Miss, are you alright?"

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Patricia Emerson Character Portrait: Kestrel

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Patricia was floating in darkness when she felt something warm nearby. Was she dead? Where was she? She could smell something salty. The sea? Now that was impossible. Suddenly a voice penetrated the darkness and broke her from her slumber. Patricia's eyes opened slowly, only to squeeze back close because of the light of day, even though it was dull outside. She opened her eyes again and the first thing she saw was a face above her's. It was also then she realized she was drenched from head-to-toe. Something wasn't right here. Her whole body ached too. What had happened to her? She tried to remember, but she was still too tired to think and had a headache also. However, she still managed to speak.

"Who are you? . . . Where am I?" she asked with a hoarse voice.

By the sound of her voice, it sounded like she had not used it in ages. She honestly didn't know how lost she was.

The setting changes from gar to Taakeira

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Dephelia Jewel Howe Character Portrait: Kestrel

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Daphelia lay in her bed, still groggy from sleep and too lazy to actually get out of bed. Bringing her thin fingers to her eyes she rubbed away the rest of the sleep that seemed to be disappearing with the sun streaming in through the window. Daphelia sat up, swinging her legs from the bed and standing. The town she had worn to bed was plastered to her body by the warm temperatures. Her eyes squinted halfway shut from sleeplessness.

She hasn't been able to fall asleep last night till late. Thinking of her mother. Daphelia couldn't help but hunk of her in scorn as she stripped off the gown. Her mood slightly turning a bit sour from the thoughts. A knock came from her door as she bent down to her bag to pull out some clothes. It was Kestrel, no doubt, who else would care to knock at her door?

Daphelia debated whether or not to call out to him to come in or not but decided against it. She was still slightly irritated by he lack of sleep and thoughts of dearest mother. Daphelia client her her hands and picked up one of her plain black dresses embroidered with white and green. Slipping on the dress she tied the back like she learned to do when she was younger. Taking the whale home brush and slipping it through her tangled white-blonde hair until it fell at her collarbone in silky strands. Taking a band and weaving her hair to a braid to fall beside her head and tiring it off.

Shaking her head to clear the last of the night, Daphelia walked toward her door and slipped on her shoes. Debating whether or not to actually leave he room. Kestrel would be mad... Daphelia shrugged, she respected him and cared for him as though he were a older brother, but she hated confined spaces. It reminded her too much of home. Daphelia walked out, locking the door behind her to the main lobby of the inn. Sitting at a end table she scratched at the table. Wondering where Kestrel disappeared to.

The setting changes from taakeira to Gar

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Dephelia Jewel Howe Character Portrait: Patricia Emerson Character Portrait: Kestrel Character Portrait: Veronica Starbane

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#, as written by Flexar
The girl eventually opened her eyes and stared wildly at Kestrel, a mixture of confusion, sadness and fear manifesting in her expression. She opened and closed her eyes a few times as if to confirm what she was seeing was real. She began to speak, her voice hoarse and slurred, as if she hadn't talked to another human being for years:
"Who are you? . . . Where am I?"

"They call me Kestrel." Kestrel answered, "You're in Fvorg, on the coast of Gar. Your accent and clothing are unlike any I have ever come across, where exactly are you from? Never mind that for now, you ought to come back to the inn with me, you're hardly inconspicuous."
Kestrel stood, gestured for the strange girl to follow him and walked back in the direction of the inn. Daphelia had probably woken up by now and was just as likely to be wondering where he was. Perhaps she would know where this girl was from, she must have had people from all over the place coming in and out of the manor whom Kestrel hadn't noticed. Her studies may have referenced people from this girl's background occasionally.

As Kestrel walked down the streets on his way back to the inn, he came across a patrol of guards. Unsurprisingly, one of the guards had to make a comment about his race, referring to him as a "Sandskin". How narrow-minded and ignorant the Garthians were. The group was composed of the usual, a few swordsmen, a musketeer and a lancer. One of the sword-wielders didn't quite fit the pattern, she was a young woman with very little armour and wild, blonde hair. Women were uncommon in Gar's army, most didn't even have jobs. Kestrel just ignored the guard's comment and continued walking, retaliating against a lawman would bring him nothing but trouble.

It only took another minute or so to reach the inn again, Kestel opened the door and ushered for the strange girl to enter. Once she was inside, Kestrel sat down at the table where Daphelia appeared to be waiting.
"Apologies for disappearing in such a manner," Kestrel began, "I just decided to go for a quick morning stroll in order to wake myself up entirely. I found this girl washed up on the beach, she seemed confused and lost so I could hardly abandon her to her fate. I don't suppose you know where she might be from or what we could do with her, do you?"

The setting changes from gar to Taakeira

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Dephelia Jewel Howe Character Portrait: Patricia Emerson Character Portrait: Kestrel

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Patricia didn't say a word to the stranger for she was too lost in her own little world to pay attention. This couldn't be real! It just couldn't. Maybe she was still asleep. Yes! That was it, she was still asleep. Of course she never had such a complicated dream before where she was smelling things she never saw or seen anything like it.

"I must be dreaming . . . I must be dreaming . . . ." she kept mumbling to herself, unaware that she was doing so.

Without thinking she followed the stranger . . what was his name . . oh right, he said it was Kestral. What kind of name was that? On and on unanswered questions swirled into her mind. She didn't even realize that they came about a town or city or some kind of place. She also didn't see all the stares she was receiving too because she was still trying to figure out what was going on. Patricia was knocked out of her reverie though when she was inside some place. She finally looked at her surroundings. Now where was she? This dream was just getting too weird! The people looked like they came from the Middle Ages. Patricia was so caught up in looking around, she was even aware of Kestral talking to someone. Her eyes widen as she turned around and backed up, only to trip over something, and fall down hitting her head on something hard as she landed on her rear end.

"OWOWOWOW!! When did one get hurt in a dream?!" she hollered.

This couldn't be a dream now, for she remembered that if it was a dream, you couldn't get hurt. Suddenly reality sunk in and she felt a coldness inside her. It was then she remembered where Kestral said they were. He said they were in Fvorg right? There was no place like that in the USA. It sounded Scandinavian, but Patricia had recently been to that area for vacation and people never dressed like they did here. Oh gosh where was she?!

"Oh gosh this just can't be real! I want to go home!" she cried.