Kerym Ungol - The Sword Spider
Posted: Wed Jan 29, 2014 8:13 am
First Name: Kerym (“Sword” in Elvish)
Last Name: Ungol (“Spider” in Elvish)
Appearance:
Race: Half-elf
Age: 25
Height: 5’2”
Weight: 116 lbs
Eyes: Green
Hair: Red
Facial Hair Style: None
Personality Profile: Kerym is playful with most folks. He carries conversation well, save with elves, who he is slightly awkward around. He has a fear of embarassing himself around those of elvish blood, as he knows little of elvish custom. He speaks freely if asked about his upbringing, attempting no guile - he believes education is the key to combating irrational fears. He also very much enjoys helping those around him with his skills as a doctor. He has a distaste for those who cling to closely to stereotypes, and avoids those in law enforcement, as he understands that they exist to enforce rules he may find absurd or unfair, given the nature of his powers.
General Health: Kerym is a light-weight. He is poorly nourished and has a low pain tolerance.
Deity: Lurue
Initial Alignment: C/G
Profession: Seeker and destroyer of cold iron weapons, surgeon of some skill.
Base Class & Proposed Development: 5 Swash/15Warlock/10Duelist
Habits/Hobbies: Kerym enjoys gambling, drinking, dancing, and relaxing in the forest near water. The sound of water calms him. He also enjoys reading non-fiction and collecting knowledge. Finally, he is discovering that he absolutely loves “normal” food, having been raised on forest fare.
Languages: Common, Elvish, Gnome, Orcish, Goblin, Jotun, (Sylvan, with DM approval – I left a slot open)
Weapon of Choice: The rapier
Background:
“You know those stories about faeries? How they are mischievous and thieving and they’ll be happy to give you all kinds of power in exchange for favors, or your first-born, or some other nonsense? Well, it’s all true. I was that first-born, and my harlot-of-a-mother gave me up.”
He takes a long, angry swig of the milk in his mug.
“Us kids who end up in fey hands, we have it ok, I guess. We don’t have any illusions about family or anything like that. Our keepers bring us up for a purpose. Oh, sure, they get attached to us. You might call it love. I’m one of the lucky ones…my matron was kind, although she didn’t really know how make a proper meal. All acorns and dew and roots, fish once in a while. Nothing like this.”
He cuts another slice of roast and pours steaming gravy all over it.
“They teach us to be survivors. They teach us to fight, and to hunt things they can’t. Me, for example…my matron tasked me with ridding the world of cold iron. Fey hate the stuff, you see. Some kind of allergy or something…I don’t really know, but it burns them like it was forge-heated. Me, though, I’m just fine around the stuff…that’s one of the reasons they want mortal children. We get tasks in exchange for training and power.”
He shovels some roasted onion and potato into his mouth with gusto.
“My real family? No idea. Not that I really ever cared to know...The Matron said I was traded for power. Great parenting, huh? I guess it would be nice to find my mother…if only to ask her to explain herself. As far as I’m concerned, I’ve got all the family I need right here.”
He pats his rapier, which rests on the stool next to him. It is embossed with a droplet motif around the crosspiece, and the pommel cap is a small, silver spider. Refilling his mug from a pitcher, he continues.
“I figured this would be a good place to start my task.”
He motions to the interior of the Friendly Arm Inn.
“Plenty of adventurers in these areas, which means plenty of weapons and commerce. I just have to take all the cold iron I find and put them in running water. The water will take care of the iron in no time. Not the most onerous of tasks. Of course, I’ll never be rich, but hey, the Matron takes care of me, so why should I complain. I’ve got enough to keep me in food and drink.”
He sops up the gravy with a fluffy biscuit.
“My own aims? Never really thought about it, I guess. We were always told to focus on our tasks. I suppose I’d like to read a few books, learn a bit more about medicine…maybe meet an elf or two. I don’t really know much about my own blood, to be honest. My tutors taught me elvish, but not what it means to be elvish…or human for that matter. They seemed entirely dismissive of my human blood-ties altogether. I suppose I have a father out there somewhere, too. Maybe I’ll look him up. He might not even know I exist.”
He leans back, having finally run out of food. He has to loosen his belt, his belly bulging around his slight frame.
“Mr. Mirrorshade, that was a fine meal. You can’t get fare like that back home. I’m thinking I might stay here a day or two, and see who passes by. You have any rooms for rent? The name’s Kerym. Yes, I know, it means ‘sword.’ It’s the name the matron gave me. I don’t even know if I have a real one…”
Goals:
Develop his skills as a doctor.
Learn his real name. (give the power names have among the Fey, this one is significant)
Find his parents.
Improve people’s views of the Fey, which includes fighting against dark fey.
Collect and destroy cold iron weapons (pact.)
Possible Plot-Hook Ideas and Misc Facts:
Kerym has no idea who his mother is, only that she is a warlock who traded her son for power.
Kerym has no idea who his father is, or if his father even knows Kerym exists.
Kerym feels obliged to protect mortals from dark fey influence and machinations - he feels dark fey behavior reflects poorly on fey in general, as most mortals do not distinguish.
Kerym will risk much to acquire and destroy cold iron weapons.
Kerym’s matron is a naiad of the seelie/light/summer fey court, who draws inspiration from the care-free and whimsical Lurue. She is a relatively liberal fey who enjoys the company of mortals (See paintings by John William Waterhouse; A Naiad and Hylas and the Nymphs)
As part of his pact, Kerym is also bound by the rules which govern the fey. If asked something three times, he must reply. He may also never tell an outright lie. Kerym must also never accept anything without returning it in kind – faerie have strange rules about being in the debt of others, and consider it dangerous to be indebted to anyone. Finally, any being may command Kerym's full attention by speaking his name. Should Kerym knowingly fail to adhere to any of these rules, he may not access his warlock powers until he immerses himself in a stream, pond, or other natural water source.
Last Name: Ungol (“Spider” in Elvish)
Appearance:
Race: Half-elf
Age: 25
Height: 5’2”
Weight: 116 lbs
Eyes: Green
Hair: Red
Facial Hair Style: None
Personality Profile: Kerym is playful with most folks. He carries conversation well, save with elves, who he is slightly awkward around. He has a fear of embarassing himself around those of elvish blood, as he knows little of elvish custom. He speaks freely if asked about his upbringing, attempting no guile - he believes education is the key to combating irrational fears. He also very much enjoys helping those around him with his skills as a doctor. He has a distaste for those who cling to closely to stereotypes, and avoids those in law enforcement, as he understands that they exist to enforce rules he may find absurd or unfair, given the nature of his powers.
General Health: Kerym is a light-weight. He is poorly nourished and has a low pain tolerance.
Deity: Lurue
Initial Alignment: C/G
Profession: Seeker and destroyer of cold iron weapons, surgeon of some skill.
Base Class & Proposed Development: 5 Swash/15Warlock/10Duelist
Habits/Hobbies: Kerym enjoys gambling, drinking, dancing, and relaxing in the forest near water. The sound of water calms him. He also enjoys reading non-fiction and collecting knowledge. Finally, he is discovering that he absolutely loves “normal” food, having been raised on forest fare.
Languages: Common, Elvish, Gnome, Orcish, Goblin, Jotun, (Sylvan, with DM approval – I left a slot open)
Weapon of Choice: The rapier
Background:
“You know those stories about faeries? How they are mischievous and thieving and they’ll be happy to give you all kinds of power in exchange for favors, or your first-born, or some other nonsense? Well, it’s all true. I was that first-born, and my harlot-of-a-mother gave me up.”
He takes a long, angry swig of the milk in his mug.
“Us kids who end up in fey hands, we have it ok, I guess. We don’t have any illusions about family or anything like that. Our keepers bring us up for a purpose. Oh, sure, they get attached to us. You might call it love. I’m one of the lucky ones…my matron was kind, although she didn’t really know how make a proper meal. All acorns and dew and roots, fish once in a while. Nothing like this.”
He cuts another slice of roast and pours steaming gravy all over it.
“They teach us to be survivors. They teach us to fight, and to hunt things they can’t. Me, for example…my matron tasked me with ridding the world of cold iron. Fey hate the stuff, you see. Some kind of allergy or something…I don’t really know, but it burns them like it was forge-heated. Me, though, I’m just fine around the stuff…that’s one of the reasons they want mortal children. We get tasks in exchange for training and power.”
He shovels some roasted onion and potato into his mouth with gusto.
“My real family? No idea. Not that I really ever cared to know...The Matron said I was traded for power. Great parenting, huh? I guess it would be nice to find my mother…if only to ask her to explain herself. As far as I’m concerned, I’ve got all the family I need right here.”
He pats his rapier, which rests on the stool next to him. It is embossed with a droplet motif around the crosspiece, and the pommel cap is a small, silver spider. Refilling his mug from a pitcher, he continues.
“I figured this would be a good place to start my task.”
He motions to the interior of the Friendly Arm Inn.
“Plenty of adventurers in these areas, which means plenty of weapons and commerce. I just have to take all the cold iron I find and put them in running water. The water will take care of the iron in no time. Not the most onerous of tasks. Of course, I’ll never be rich, but hey, the Matron takes care of me, so why should I complain. I’ve got enough to keep me in food and drink.”
He sops up the gravy with a fluffy biscuit.
“My own aims? Never really thought about it, I guess. We were always told to focus on our tasks. I suppose I’d like to read a few books, learn a bit more about medicine…maybe meet an elf or two. I don’t really know much about my own blood, to be honest. My tutors taught me elvish, but not what it means to be elvish…or human for that matter. They seemed entirely dismissive of my human blood-ties altogether. I suppose I have a father out there somewhere, too. Maybe I’ll look him up. He might not even know I exist.”
He leans back, having finally run out of food. He has to loosen his belt, his belly bulging around his slight frame.
“Mr. Mirrorshade, that was a fine meal. You can’t get fare like that back home. I’m thinking I might stay here a day or two, and see who passes by. You have any rooms for rent? The name’s Kerym. Yes, I know, it means ‘sword.’ It’s the name the matron gave me. I don’t even know if I have a real one…”
Goals:
Develop his skills as a doctor.
Learn his real name. (give the power names have among the Fey, this one is significant)
Find his parents.
Improve people’s views of the Fey, which includes fighting against dark fey.
Collect and destroy cold iron weapons (pact.)
Possible Plot-Hook Ideas and Misc Facts:
Kerym has no idea who his mother is, only that she is a warlock who traded her son for power.
Kerym has no idea who his father is, or if his father even knows Kerym exists.
Kerym feels obliged to protect mortals from dark fey influence and machinations - he feels dark fey behavior reflects poorly on fey in general, as most mortals do not distinguish.
Kerym will risk much to acquire and destroy cold iron weapons.
Kerym’s matron is a naiad of the seelie/light/summer fey court, who draws inspiration from the care-free and whimsical Lurue. She is a relatively liberal fey who enjoys the company of mortals (See paintings by John William Waterhouse; A Naiad and Hylas and the Nymphs)
As part of his pact, Kerym is also bound by the rules which govern the fey. If asked something three times, he must reply. He may also never tell an outright lie. Kerym must also never accept anything without returning it in kind – faerie have strange rules about being in the debt of others, and consider it dangerous to be indebted to anyone. Finally, any being may command Kerym's full attention by speaking his name. Should Kerym knowingly fail to adhere to any of these rules, he may not access his warlock powers until he immerses himself in a stream, pond, or other natural water source.