Tips: 0.00 INK
by Pandorym on Sun Jun 22, 2008 11:40 am
Name: Torian Steadyhand
Age: 33
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Height: 5'4
Weight: 117 lbs
Appearance: Torian is short for a full-grown man, but his muscles are impressive enough that most people leave him alone. A strange scent surrounds him, a mix of sweet herbs and decay, and his wild brown eyes add to this strangeness. His head and beard are shaven, though a persistent bit of stubble continually attempts to grow on his chin, and his features are sunken.
Evidence of minor sunburn is clear on his bald head. His clothes (simple leather trousers, boots, shirt, and vest with many pockets, all of them full of unknown things) are covered in a light dusting of earth, and he carries a shovel wherever he goes. Anyone particularly observant might notice a flash of steel up his left sleeve.
History: Born a commoner in a family of seven in a small town in the far eastern portion of Neruhm, the first lesson of Torian's life was desperation. Theft came naturally to him, for the rich had plenty and his stomach was never full. Every time he stole he justified his actions, and soon it mattered little to him who was targeted or what was taken. More than a few times he was very nearly caught by the guards, but learned nothing from the experience until he finally was caught.
Incriminated by overwhelming evidence of many thefts Torian, now nineteen, faced the hangman's noose. As he lay in his cell, lamenting his fate, he was saved by an unlikely occurrence: the Frost Wars erupted, bringing conscription officers all over the land. One of these officers visited the prison, hoping to find hardened criminals to serve as shock troops in exchange for a pardon if they survived. Though he had never handled a blade in his life, Torian accepted.
A war against an island nation is inevitably fought upon the sea, and the young thief found himself armed with a sword and expected to board enemy vessels as soon as they came within range. Even he is not sure how he survived to see the war's end as a man of twenty-four, but his incredulous commanding officers even made bets on whether or not he would survive each battle.
Already desensitized to thievery, Torian lost all remorse for killing. He learned to set a sail, steer a ship, climb anchor chains, clean his sword, then bloody it all over again with the innards of whoever he was told to fight. Though he was never promoted he eventually became somewhat sought after by captains of ships expecting to board or be boarded. If he had stayed behind, he might even have received a commission of his own. He did not, however, and instead left south as soon as he was released from duty. Of all the prisoners conscripted from his village, he was the only survivor.
Mercenary work did not agree with Torian, for he had seen enough killing for a while. Instead he turned to another profession, one that combined his knowledge of anatomy, his physical strength, and his penchant for thievery: grave robbing. For a time he wandered from town to town, digging up little stone figurines or rusted daggers he polished back to functionality and selling them far away from where they had been stolen. He had learned to cover his tracks quite thoroughly, for he had no desire to return to prison.
In a small village in South Jerah, however, he was caught in the act of digging up a grave by an old hermit. The thief prepared to kill the interloper with a shovel, but the woman made no move to run off and warn the guards. Instead, she spoke to Torian and revealed her purpose: she was a healer who sought knowledge of the human body but lacked corpses on which to examine anatomy. If the grave robber allowed her to accompany him and gave her bodies for her research, he would be paid in knowledge of non-magical healing techniques. Torian accepted.
Having wandered alone for three years, it was a relief for the young man to travel with someone else for the next three. The old crone was wise in the ways of herbs, bandages, and pressure-points, and Torian learned almost as much about killing as healing from her. By the time Dominus Aspirine, a man the pair had never given much thought even as they began to travel through his lands, was declared a demigod, the veteran was a modest surgeon capable of setting bones, stopping bleeding, removing arrowheads, treating fevers, and the like.
He and his companion made a fair amount of money on the side from their healing practices, and it was largely for the thrill that Torian continued to steal items he could fence from graves. He made the mistake, however, of trying to break into the Imperial Tombs to steal the artifacts rumored to be contained within. The priests of the "divine" emperor caught him in the act, and though he managed to escape the crone gave her life to buy him time.
Devestated and knowing that he would be sought for some time by the priests, the thief and healer fled back to his homeland and hid there for four years, stealing to survive. Only recently did he return to the Empire, and he did so with great caution. After a mercenary job gone wrong during the invasion of Mera he perished when Jenices fell, cut down by a Nerhumite death knight after a severe chest injury. He was raised back to life by dark adepts when the Godslayers retook the city.
Weapons: Torian wields a perfectly normal shortsword, forged of steel and showing a little wear after extensive use in the Frost War and more than a little submersion in seawater. He also uses a dagger he keeps up his sleeve as both a surgical knife and a backup weapon. His shovel provides a useful non-lethal weapon as well as being a vital tool.
Last edited by
Pandorym on Tue Jul 29, 2008 10:08 am, edited 3 times in total.
Tip jar: the author of this post has received
0.00 INK
in return for their work.
