Arturi Valdaska

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Arturi Valdaska

Unread post by Requiem » Sun Aug 04, 2019 8:24 pm

Template For Character Creation:

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First Name: Arturi
Last Name: Valdaska
True Name: Unknown (Arturi's mother whispered his "True Name" into his ear at birth known only between the two of them. It is a superstitious tradition to prevent spirits or fey from gaining power over him.)
Companion Name: Sorcha

Race: Aasimar
Ethnicity: Gur
Age: 28
Height: 6'1''
Weight: 186 lbs.
Eyes: Gold
Hair: Black
Facial Hair Style: Short, trimmed.

Personality Profile:

General Health: Excellent.

Deity: Selune

Initial Alignment: Neutral Good

Profession: Animal Handler (mainly Horses), Herbalist (mainly Medicinal), Armor and Weapons (and other odds and ends)

Base Class & Proposed Development: Ranger/ more Ranger/ slightly more Ranger/ Hellfire Warlock (kidding, pure Ranger)

Habits/Hobbies: Taking walks, whittling little figurines, spending time with Sorcha, training his pack horse Asha, swapping stories, fishing, attempting to learn the Lute (he never will, poor guy).

Languages: Common, Animal, Rashemi, Thorass, Chondathan, Celestial.

Weapon of Choice: Sorcha....otherwise, a Bow.


Arturi's background is portrayed by testimonials from different people he has crossed paths with, as if someone came asking. It leaves a lot up to imagination while giving some insight into the character's past.

Orjin Bihkesh, a Gur from the Krodali caravan. Spoken to on the side of a road.
Hidden: show
"...Aye, Arturi Valdaska? Good boy, mother's boy. Good family. Knew their craft, and knew it well. Most outsiders wonder how to tell one group of Gurs from another. It's in our crafts, our professions.
The Valdakas? Their craft was War. Not fighting no, Gurs tend to avoid conflict when possible. *mutters something about exceptions* You see, wars aren't fought with just warriors alone. Armies need weapons and horses. Soldiers need their wounds tended. That is where the Valdaskas come in. They're camp followers, for a price.
Rumor has it that "a Valdaskan bred and trained horse has never thrown a rider, and a Valdaskan breastplate has never been breached". Their healing isn't magical, but I'll be damned if they haven't closed the door on Myrkul for enough lads and lasses over the years. You may be thinking that these are all but fanciful stories. *shrugs* Maybe they are, but remember this. Most stories carry a grain of truth. And that grain could be far heavier than you realize..."

Gherod Jenkins, a travelling peddler. Spoken to at a small country inn bar.
Hidden: show

"...Arturi Valdaska, aye I remember the name. I hadn't planned on it, the damn gypsy... *he says with gritted teeth, then relaxing* You see him before I do, you tell him I'm on my way. He! *slams the bar table* I was traveling my usual route between Athkatla and Beregost, just me, my wagon of goods, and my prized "spotted dog" that was going to land me a fortune. People with coin tend to buy exotic things in my experience, and I ain't ever seen a dog like that. Easy to transport it too. Just slapped a chain around it's neck on the back of the wagon and had it walk itself. Fed it just enough not to drain my purse dry. Figured whoever paid the coin for it could feed the beast....
So, I'm on this long stretch of road, and I notice a man walking twenty, thirty wagon lengths behind me. He camped when I camped, ate when I ate, but never moved a step closer. After a couple of nights the man came stumbling up like a fool with a bottle of wine in each hand. "Well met friend! I see we're two lone travelers on the road. Why not share a drink and the night?" That's what he said when he walked up, but far more slurred. I figured, this drunk fool wants to share two bottles of aged Berduskan Dark for no payment in return? The wine tasted odd, but still fine enough to drink. His loss I thought, but I was wrong.
I was the one who lost when I woke up to find the dog, and the man gone the next day... I'm going to find the Gur, and collect what's due... with interest...."
Fiona Alders, a widowed farm owner. Spoken to over dinner in her home.
Hidden: show

"...I'm not in the position to give hand-outs you see, owning a farm as a widow whose workers were leaving by the day... But I made an exception for one man. The man you're asking about. The one with the spotted hound. *she smiles warmly, staying silent for a moment as in caught in a memory*
It was a storming that night, and the stable door made a loud "crack" against the barn from the wind. I gathered my cloak and set out to close it, wondering how long it would take for me to settle the fears of the horses and cattle. As I left through my door I could see a man, slick with rain, closing the door behind him and the back half of a dog entering the barn. I grabbed the wood splitting axe by the front door and approached, terrified for what the man may do either to me or my means of living. I made my way out to the barn and opened the door as quietly as I could, hoping the rain and the terrified animals would cover my approach. As I opened the door it squeaked louder than I had thought. You see, there was plenty of noise from the rain. Not a peep from the animals. A small lamp came to life amidst the darkness.
There he was, with one hand on the lamp and the other on one of my stallions neck, whispering something to it and all the animals nearby. He looked in my direction and at that moment I realized that he was more fearful of me finding him than I was of him trying to pull something. *she clears her throat* Arturi stayed with me for the entire summer's duration. We became close friends. Nothing more than that, mind you. He was always eager to help with the work around the farm and always eager to repair broken tools or share a tid bit of "family secrets" with me about the horses. He never shared much about his history.
So... one night over dinner, just as you and I are right now, I confronted him about his family and why he was separated from them. He said "A wolf and a dog are kin.... yet they are not the same." I asked in return "Why not find other Gurs like yourself then, find a new family." He retorted "Why must they be Gurs, when there are "outsiders" like you. *he smiled warmly* No, I will find out about things I have been kept from for far too long."
At the end of the summer, we said our farewells. He carved me this beautiful horse as a parting gift. *she gets up and walks over to a nearby table, where there are horse figurines no taller than two hands width. She grabs one and brings it back to the dinner table* It's been about two years now... *she smiles, a tear forming* A courier makes his way through here every once in awhile. There's no note, no message. Just a small wooden horse under his arm..." *she takes the horse figurine and with a good amount of force, pops it's head off at a barely visible separation at the base of it's neck revealing a small stash of gold coins*

  • To find a new home. Home for Arturi means friends and family rather than stick and stone houses.
  • Arturi was taught by his family to have an "Us vs. Them" mentality. While he yearns to get close to "outsiders" or be a part of something, this mentality has a push and pull effect on his decisions and actions to actually try and do so. He works to overcome this.
  • To reconcile what happened between him and his family for better or worse. For the mean time, he is avoiding it entirely.
  • Do what he can to help the war effort. He can't settle down roots in a place overrun by devils after all.

Possible Plot-Hook Ideas and Misc Facts:
  • Arturi is only close to two things so far: Sorcha, his spotted hound, and Fiona the widowed farm owner. If anything were to happen to either it would completely destroy him.
  • Arturi ran away from his family. If sour enough about that fact, they may seek him out. The Valdaska caravan and it's people are army camp followers, providing necessary gear, beasts, and services to forces in need. They may take the opportunity to profit off of the war with the devils on the Coast.
  • Sorcha was in fact stolen by Arturi from a cruel man with the intent of selling her. This man may come looking.
Arturi Valdaska

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