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Averëon Elestar
Posted: Mon Jul 16, 2012 2:25 pm
by Dreme
Template For Character Creation Reward (modified, hope thats okay):
First Name: Averëon
Last Name: Elestar
Race: Sy-tel'quessir (wild elf)
Age: 123
Height: 5'2"
Weight: 125lbs
Eyes: Almost Lime Green
Hair: Dark Brown with Black Streaks
Facial Hair Style: ...none!
Languages: Common and Elven
Weapon of Choice: Longbow
Deity: Corellon Larethain
Appearance:
Averëon stands closer to 5 foot than 6, about average height for an elf. She has sharp oval, light green eyes, almost lime in color. Her hair is long, dark brown with streaks of black and with a fairly dark brown skin complection, all telling of her Sy heritage. With high cheek bones and a slim cut jaw line with a strong chin it is hard to call her anything short of beautiful. She is thicker and seems to be more powerfully built than the typical elf, but that comes from the stouter bones and thicker skin of the Sy elf. She is still thin compaired to most Sy, less muscular but lean and athletic in appearance. She wears beads of dark shades of purple and blue through her hair, attached to her boots, gloves, and leggings as well as around her collar. For the most part they seem simple, hanging freely from her all aside from those on her collar and gloves which are woven into the leather in intricate design. On her upper back, just below the base of her neck, is a tattoo of highly intricate design. It has layers upon layers of runic marking woven together into a hauntingly beautiful and mysterious design. Durring the day the tattoo appears mundane, however at night it can be seen faintly glowing in a light blue hue.
Personality Profile:
Averëon is generally easy going, yet mischevous and playful at times. If she finds your weak spot she will often push it but always being wary not to push you to far. She also has a darker side though, due to her history before her "rebirth" in Baldur's Gate, that she keeps well hiden. That side of her is slowly being wittled away by the company she keeps, but at times can be sparked again by her encounters with those who would cause harm to her loved ones or influence her in negative ways. She has a free will that makes her feel akin to Mielikki but her deep seated love for the elven race that extends as far as the high elves but abruptly ends at the drow keeps her fallowing Corellon. Despite her love for her race, she often finds herself butting heads with high elves, who she often refers to as "haughty" elves, due to the fact that they often have a tendency to think of themselves as being better than the other races. She also believes that the high elves, if not kept in check, would return the elven race to a time before the Crown Wars to once again repeat the cycle. She despises orcs and is baffled by the humans quickness to trust members of the brutal race that has ravenged their people for as far back as history has been recorded.
General Health:
She is in generally good health aside from an occassional cut or raw lowly lip caused from her nerviously chewing on it. She is thin for a Sy, though not unhealthily so.
Initial Alignment:
Chaotic Neutral but with her close contact with Calinde as they both inspire each other to become better and put their past lives behind them, she is slowly shifting twards good. She still, however, keeps a mischievous streak and is short tempered when dealing with "Haughty" elves (high elves) and ill tempered when dealing with orcs or humans who would speak ill of her kin of whom she loves dearly.
Profession:
Averëon spent years of her life before coming to Baldur's Gate as an entertainer with a gypsy caravan. Her singing and dancing helped keep coin flowing for the gypsies and her minor skill with alchemy and healing magic were also useful any time someone became sick or injured, making her a part of their caravan as long as she desired.
Base Class & Proposed Development:
When arriving in Baldur's Gate she was a nimble archer and bard with a minor skill for picking locks, however, she has no real tallent for lockpicking and will never develope it. Since then, with the encouragement of her "sister", Calinde, she began trying to find ways of focusing her magic into the tips of her arrows. With some practice and patience she managed to focus a minor enchantment into her arrows and later to place an evocation in them causing them to burst into flames. At first she was unsure of how she had done it and once even became so startled by it she shot Calinde with one of the arrows, causing her to nearly swear off ever using the power again. In the frost giants layer she began using the tallent again in a desprite attempt to keep warm. She held the arrows to her chest huddling over them, once even nearly igniting her cloths by mistake. When fighting the frost giant king she became so nervious she let one such arrow slip and it burnt her as well as her comrads. Because of this she now seeks a way to add the elements to her arrows in a more minor form as to no longer cause as much harm if she does make a mistake. At the request of Calinde, Averëon is practicing firing two arrows at once and hopes to teach this skill to her once she has mastered it.
Habits/Hobbies:
As with most Minstrels she enjoys telling stories, singing and dancing. She also has a habit of shifting around and chewing her lower lip when anxious. She has an appriciation for the craftmanship of bows and cherishes such artifacts as her beloved Snap Shot
Background:
This section will be sent to the DMs as I do not want to spoil it for anyone new meeting Averëon. Plus it is so long you likely wouldn't want to try reading my whole post. ^^
Goals:
Averëon is trying despritly to put her past life behind her and begin a new life in Baldur's Gate. That is her primary goal though she also hopes to share her Sy heritage, such as their unique art, music and dance with her elven kin who she believes have began straying from their roots due to their close contact with the humans. She also desires to become a master archer and learn new techneques of combining magic with archery.
Possible Plot-Hook Ideas and Misc Facts:
Averëon is a hunted woman, any more would spoil her back story. I will send this info to the DMs aswell.
Re: Averëon Elestar
Posted: Tue Jul 17, 2012 12:00 am
by Dreme
Is it narcissistic to love reading your own bio?
Re: Averëon Elestar
Posted: Thu Jul 26, 2012 8:18 pm
by Dreme
I am going to go ahead and reveal Averëon's back story. This is being done more for others enjoyment such as player like Durgan Ironfaar, who, though she considers him a friend, will never hear it likely.
If you want to RP this out of Averëon for the sake of fun RP please do not read any further!
Background:
(Location: Neverwinter Woods, Age 91-93)
Averëon was born and lived the first ninety-three years of her life with her clan in Neverwinter Wood in a tree-top village they called Shanta Mar. Her clan had been through hard times, for nearly five hundred years they had been without a shaman. Being without a shaman was to be lost and blind for her clan. At the age of ninety-one her powers first revealed themselves in the form of a minor healing cantrip as she lay over a friend who was fatally wounded in a hunting accident. When the clan learned of her ability to heal they were over joyed, believing she would become the new shaman. She knew her power did not come from nature but she could not bare to tell them the truth after seeing how it lifted their spirits. She was quickly pushed into training and her freedom stripped from her. She was not allowed to leave the village, all privacy was taken from her, her association with members of the clan was restricted, and she had even been "chosen" to marry the village elders oldest son Valandil Mithrandír. She believed Valandil to be a good man of good character, but she was a creature of free will and the choices being made for her and the restrictions placed on her were unsettling for the young elf. Still, she would endure it all for sake of clan. The hope it gave her people was worth the sacrifice, until it was finally to much. Every day of her training was one failure after another. She had no power to communicate with nature, she could not cast the most simplest of druidic spells and her rituals were an exercise in futility. Most believed her failures were due to the lack of guidance from a proper shaman to teach her the ways, though she believes some knew the truth, they, like her, didn't have the heart to share it. The only successes she had were in learning written language and common from the village elder. She was passed on the history of her clan and the history the Sy elf all the way back to the creation of the elven race. Despite her failures she was pushed through the training. It wasn't until her training was "complete" that she learned of a dark secret her clan had kept. Normally when anyone was caught poaching in their territory, that person was captured and questioned to see if they might be a passable threat. Once the interrogation was complete, if they were found to be no threat, the shaman perform a ritual to strip their memory of the event and release them somewhere far outside the clan's territory. However, without a shaman the practice had taken a dark turn. Those captured were slain, regardless of innocence or guilt. This had made their section of the forest notorious to the locals who now believed it was either haunted or plagued by demons. She did not blame her clan, they did what they thought they had to to protect their kin, but her role in this was more than the young girl's heart could handle. She would never be able to perform the ritual properly and the only alternative was death. She would blame herself for each failure and it was more than she could live bare. With a heavy heart she began trying to find a way to escape. She knew that once the ritual making her the head shaman of the clan was complete her restrictions would be lightened and her best chance for escape would be then. So she bid her time and waited, at one point she almost changed her mind until a young human was caught by her clan and she failed in the ritual. He was immediately slain and her heart was again laden with grief. Finally the time of her final ritual that would make her the clan's shaman came. She was given a tattoo on her back, just below her neck, that marked her as the high shaman forever more. The tattoo took days to complete and was extremely painful for her. Once all the ceremonies were complete, including her marriage to the elder's son, she found her opening and took it, feeing the village and abandoning her kin with nothing but a bow, a few arrows and a sack containing the basic supples she would need for survival. Due to her abandoning her clan, she sees herself as a coward even to this day. Once she broke free of Neverwinter Woods she began to realize just the fool she had been. She knew nothing of the world outside her forest. At random she picked a direction and began traveling north. After crossing through The Crags and crossing the Mirar River she found herself upon a road. Again picking a direction at random she began fallowing it East finally arriving at the gates of Luskin, the City of Sails.
(Location: Luskin Age 93-102)
Upon walking through the gates, she instantly despised the city. The noises of the city, it's unnatural feel, and it's smell all assaulted her sensibilities, but she had nothing and this was the only option she saw open to her. Lucky for her, her hunts had been fruitful and after speaking with the gate guards she learned of a local merchant who would buy the hide of her kills and a cheap inn she could stay at. Her niavete did not serve her well and she was given a meager amount for the pelts but it was enough for three nights at the inn. However, after only the first night a pick pocket stole what little coin she had and she soon found herself on the streets of the city with nothing. On the second night in the city she went to rest in an ally, Before she could enter reverie she was approached by three armed thugs. They told her to hand over all her coin, even after explain she had none she was attacked. One of the men wielded a dagger while the other two attacked with simple clubs. She had used all of her arrows hunting and had no weapon aside from a skinning dagger, so she used what she had and fought the men off best she could. Panic began to set in as she realized the men could easily over power her. As the man with the dagger lunged at her she held out her hand in desperation and cried out. As she readied herself to dodge the attack magic leapt from her hand, assaulting the mans mind. He stopped abruptly with a look in his eyes as though he were lost to the world. She quickly took queue and attacked him, plunging the cruel dagger deep inside her abdomen and twisted the blade to be sure it was fatal. She backed off and the other two stood in horror as their friend dropped to the dieing, but despite their fear, they saw her fear and surprise. They both swung at her with their clubs, she dodged the first nimbly but the second caught her off balance clubbing her on the forehead. the knife slipped from her grasp as she plummeted to the ground. Both men stood over her, eyes filled with hatred. She sat up, tears flowing freely from her eyes and blood trickling down her forehead. She held up her hands, begging them to stop they quickly raised their clubs to strike, expecting another spell. Averëon turned her head and shut her eyes, waiting for the blows to come. She heard the sound of wood against stone, then two loud thumps. She opened her eye and turned to look, there on the ground both men lay, there throats slit. She heard a voice call out to her, "Are you hurt?" he asked. She looked up to see the dark figure of a human standing over her, cloaked in black with a kukri in hand dripping with the blood of a fresh kill. She began to compose herself and wipe the blood and tears from her face then shook her head no. The man offered her his hand and she took it then rose to her feet. He introduced himself as Davmorn Carter and asked if she had a place to stay. She answered no again and he offered her his place. "What other choice do I have?" she asked herself then accepted reluctantly. He offered her a bath, warm food and a pair of baggy men's cloths to wear. She accepted them all, this time without hesitation as she began to trust him, a mistake she would soon live to regret. That night she entered reverie, her mind filled with the trauma she had endured and thoughts of her clan. The next morning she and the man spent hours talking. She explained her situation without revealing much information about her clan and she was thankful that he did not pry. The rest of the conversation mostly consisted of him explaining the city. At the end of it he made her an offer, he would teach her how to survive in the city, train her to better defend herself, and let her stay with him if she would take care of his home and, once she was capable, work for him. The arrangement seemed too good to be true but she accepted. He stayed true to his word and she to hers. He spent the next several months teaching her how to avoid danger, how to barter with the local merchants, and the best ways to make coin. Then came the self defense lessons. The two would spar for hours, him always keeping one step ahead of her. Any time she would make an improvement , he would step up a level to match her but at no point did he allow her to even lay a touch against him. At times his methods seemed cruel, she had little talent for wielding blades and every time she left herself open for an attack he would strike her hard. Still, she endured it, believing he only meant to better her skill. He began teaching her to open simple locks and disable simple mechanical traps. Again she had no talent for either. She could manage some of the locks but the mechanical traps were far to complex for her. Several months passes and the training became more intense. He began to loose patience with her failures and would hit her any time she made a mistake. Eventually the hitting became beatings. She felt trapped and the more she began to learn about the man she had put her trust into, the most trapped she felt. Davmorn Carter was fairly well known to the underworld as an assassin for hire. He had contacts through out the city and kept himself well informed of all of the going ons inside of it. Now she believed he was training her as his apprentice. She saw little chance of her escape without his knowing. Still she plotted and began collecting resources. Then came the time he put her to work. She had been training with him for over three years and now he was finally ready to give her his first target, if she succeeded he would even pay her. She took the contract and executed it without fail. He seemed slightly impressed so the work began. Always the contracts were to kill some low life within the city, a guard who wanted more coin for looking the other way, a thug who killed or mugged the wrong person, a pirate who wouldn't pay his dues to the higher ups. Luskin has no shortage of trash that needed disposing of. She even enjoyed the work. Every time she would kill she knew she was getting rid of one more peace of trash that walked the city and deserved no less and likely far worse. She began picturing her master's face instead of the faces of her targets. Years passed and the work was continuous. She saved coin and made more contacts trying to find ways to escape the city without her master knowing. She knew it was all futile though. If she left her master would catch wind of it and be quick on her heels. The only way to escape would be to kill her master first, and she didn't believe she could, he was just to good. Every time she planned a way to do it she saw her demise, he seemed to have no weaknesses and left no openings. He would catch her and kill her, he probably even knew she was planning it. She was sure she would never escape her master, until one day when she saw on choice. She was given a job. It seemed some noble had slept with a commoner woman and she had bore a son. She threatened him saying that she had proof that the boy was his, probably a lie, but it was to great a risk for the noble to let go unanswered. The child would have rites to his estate, and he had a wife as well as a honor reputation on the line. So a contract was passed to Davmorn then passed to Averëon. The job was to kill the woman and her child. As she read it she stood in horror, unsure if she could complete it. To her the woman would be no problem, she deserved her fate, she knew the risk she put herself and her child into, but the child was innocent. She saw no choice, she had to do as her master instructed. She went to the house late that night and slipped in un noticed. She easily slit the woman's throat and went to the crib. As she stood over it the baby awoke, looking up at her her heart melted, there was no way she could take this innocent life, it would damn her soul. She took the baby and and any supplies she found inside then hurried out the house then to the gates of the city. She paid the guard to not notice her, costing her most of the gold she had, after all he knew who would come looking for her. She tore out the gates and hit the road fallowing it north east. Again she was on the road with meager supplies, but this time with a baby in tow. She managed to scrape by rationing supplies but she had to give all she was sparing to the child and even then it wasn't enough for the child to survive long. She nearly crossed through Mirabar after only stopping for supplies till she met a band of gypsies. One of them told her they were traveling north to Ten Towns in Icewindale for trade and were in a hurry to get there before the freeze. It sounded like the perfect opportunity for her, once the freeze began her master would have no way of fallowing and one of the gypsies had even recently given birth and could passably play the roll of wet nurse for the boy. She begged the gypsy to let her join them, even offering her all the gold she had. It was hardly enough though. He asked her what talents she she had, she told him she had could heal and went as far as to demonstrated it on one of the gypsies who had sprung his foot. With that the gypsy crew welcomed her aboard, after taking her gold, and they set off to Ten Towns.
(Location: Gypsy Caravan, Age: 102-123)
As they spent time on the road she kept to herself. Several of the gypsies attempted to befriend her but after all she had been through she kept herself well guarded. The woman who had recently gave birth agreed to wet nurse the child but it was Averëon's responsibility to take care of him. Eventually she named him, giving him the elven name Ha-vain-lie meaning freedom spirit giver. She became attached the to Havainlie as they traveled to ten towns and even more during their stay. She was amazed watching how quickly he grew and learned. She was there for the boy's first steps, his first word spoken, he called her mother. Her heart had been reopened and the gypsies kindness was slowly breaking down her barriers. As she sang to the child one night, her voice was overheard by the gypsies and residents as people began to gather around her. Her voice was as warm and sweet as the spring breeze. Some began dropping copper and even a silver peace or two at her feet. So she began singing to the people of ten towns regularly, making her and the gypsies enough coin that they begged her to stay with them once they departed after the melt. She agreed and when the ice melted and the roads dried enough for safe travel they set out heading back south, back towards the man who would rip her heart asunder. Averëon kept on her guard as they traveled the long road back to Mirabar, but, mercifully, when they left Mirabar the band traveled south. She felt safe, "Maybe her wont find me after all" she thought, so she let down her guard and began to enjoy the company of her gypsy friends and her son. She was wrong though, her master had not stopped his pursuit and Averëon had errored in letting her guard down, an error she would pay for dearly. One morning she awoke feeling something was off. She rolled over to wake Havainlie. As she touched his arm he felt wrong, stiff, cold. She rolled him over and her eyes opened wide with shock. She cried out at the top of her lungs. The child was dead, a dagger jabbed through his heart with a small blue ribbon attached, embroidered on it was a black mask, it was the calling card of her master. She pulled the child into her lap as the gypsies sprang from their tents and rushed to hers. She rocked him wailing as they burst though the opening. One by one they looked on with horror. Later that same day they buried the child and all mourned. There was not a dry eye among them, especially those of Averëon and Havainlie's wet nurse who held each other as they graved together. They stayed their for several days, not wanting to leave the burial site. Finally the decision was made to depart and it took everything Averëon could muster to leave. As she began to pack up her things she lifted up the bed roll and under it, where she lay her head was a note. She picked it up and read "To love is to let death in". It was a lesson her master had drilled into during her training. An assassin can't love, it is a weakness. Her heart was broken, her master had killed him not only to complete a job, he never left a job unfinished, but also to destroy her and prove he was right all along. Over the next several years she traveled up and down the sword coast, from Ten Towns in Icewindale to Calimport in Calimshan, always avoiding Luskin. All the while Averëon waited for the day her master would come for her, she was even looking forward to it. The suffering she endured felt as though it would last forever. Mercifully it slowly became more and more dulled as time went on and eventually she felt it was time for her to move on as well and try to bury her past and start new. The gypsy caravan approached Baldur's Gate and she decided that it was here she would say her goodbyes and part with her old life. The gypsies were saddened to see her go, many of them had been children when she first joined and she had become like an aunt to most of them.
Possible Plot-Hook Ideas and Misc Facts:
Averëon believes that her former master may one day come after her. He is known for settling his scores and inflicting as much pain from the shadows as possable. If he does, she is sure he will take her life with ease and she will never even see him coming. He was 23 at the time of their meeting, he would be around 53 by now. Perhap one last loose end to finish his career. By now his age would have slown him down, making him less of a threat. Members of her clan may also come for her. What reason they would do this I have not yet worked out but I see it as a possable future event in her life. She would also do anything for her gypsy friends should they come in need of her aid.
Re: Averëon Elestar
Posted: Fri Jul 27, 2012 10:33 pm
by Darkshard
Reviewed, xp awarded.