Below is my brief outline of a local sport I would like to put in my fantasy novel.
The game of Clandizzi
(Or “clandi” for short)
**All names are subject to change ... especially if they sound retarded when I re-read them tomorrow.
2 teams (or clans) of 5
Clandizzi FIELD
The field is quite literally never the same. There are crews of people that exist only to make the field interesting and challenging. (I was kind of thinking like in Ender's Game ...)
Hills, trenches, trees, shrubs, towers, ropes, open spaces, water - you name it, it's allowed within a set perimeter. (Even live animals can roam around - dangerous ones sometimes in elite games.) The perimeter is usually the same (depending on the size of the arena, which is usually limited by the funds of the owner) More rural settings will often shrink or expand the boundaries according to their natural landscape. (For example, neighborhood kids can play versions of the game in the streets and make their own obstacles, while hillfolk may go into a mountain range and play an extreme version.)
Each clan is given a designated "starting zone" which is basically base, where they are safe to rest if need be.
Each team has 3 Sneaks (small, brightly colored balls) and one scoring bucket. The Sneaks are hidden somewhere on the field, (by whoever set it up, hopefully a neutral party or a ref) and scoring buckets are to be placed near the opposite team's starting zone.
THE POSITIONS
1 Hawkeye - one team member who chooses a high location on the field like a tower, (if one is present) who acts as spotter. They can call warnings to players below, and are usually the first to spot the hidden Sneaks.
2 Snipers - These two players are armed with blow darts. These darts cause localized numbness and paralysis, which is temporary but very potent. (Takes five minutes or so to regain movement and feeling.) The goal of the Sniper is to 1. stop the other team's Runners from scoring, 2. take out the other team's Snipers if possible, and 3. make the job of climbing very difficult for the Hawkeye.
3 Runners/Chargers - 3 individuals who are the only ones allowed to touch (and therefore, score) a Sneak. They can move alone, or in a pack - both have a variety of stategic pros and cons, depending on the arena layout.
If all 3 of a team's Runners are unable to move, no points can be scored.
Scoring
Points are scored when a Runner places a Sneak into the other team's bucket.
(Trying to think of another possible way of scoring...)
Once a team has scored 3 times, the game is over.
GAME RULES and PENALTIES
Players are not allowed to remove scored Sneaks from their buckets.
Snipers cannot "camp" a fallen player - once someone has been hit with a dart and is no longer able to make forward progress, the Sniper must move on.
Shielding a mobile Runner is allowed, but not by more than 2 players.
(I'm sure I'll think of more... I am trying to think of ways people could cheat and make the game unfair or dangerous ...)
Referee
Four refs:
Two refs keep track of points scored, and ensure that no one removes scored Sneaks from their buckets.
The other two are in charge of keeping players honest and enforcing the rules. (Those other rules have yet to be developed.)
Clandizzi GEAR
Goggle things (So that poorly aimed darts do not hit you in the eyeball ... hopefully.)
Regulation clothing - must keep arms and legs exposed at all times (the darts are able to go through most material easily, but bare skin keeps things fair.) Most males do not wear shirts, and females basically wear sports bras – leather, typically to give some protection to the breasts.
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
Friday, September 28, 2007
Test Chapter: Aphid and the Bat
A Selection from The Dreaming:
{Note: The Dreaming is a collection of myths and children's fantasy stories}
Long ago, in a land much different than our own, there was a forest. What is a forest you ask? Well, I shall tell you. If ever you find a place where tall, emerald trees grow thickly together like an army of soldiers standing at attention - trees thrice the size of any full grown Palzune - their boughs and branches so thick and intertwined that flying through them would be an impossible task, you have discovered yourself a forest. Sunlight only breaks through on rare occasions, and it is the home of thousands of creatures. No two forests are the same, just as no two oceans can be the same. Their borders and inhabitants make each one unique. In a forest, streams of water flow freely along the ground without a care in the world of where they might end, and the land surrounding them drinks at its leisure from its cool and endless depths. Sometimes, if you listen with your full attention - never tense but always ready, never thinking but always aware, you can hear the whispers of the rulers of the woods singing – the faeries of the forest realm.
Now a faerie is something amazing to behold. They are a cheerful, proud people, though they stand no taller than a crag lily flower. Long have they communed and loved nature and all of the Author’s creation. Where a faerie steps, life is bound to blossom. The trees in which they dwell can never die, and life has kissed them with purity of the heart. In their merry dancing dwells the gift of happiness, and hidden within their laughter resides a touch of healing. In their realm exists no sorrow, no hunger, and before their playful song no tears are shed.
This story is about a particular faerie by the name of Sterling, though you would not know that was her true name. Since birth, she was instead called Aphid, for she was the smallest faerie in her clan. Her home was in the enclosed pedals of a sunflower near a small lake, where her favorite thing to do was tell and solve riddles. Now, if you know anything about faeries, you should know that puzzles and riddles are not a common past time. In fact, very little thought is ever seriously engaged in the faerie realm, for there is usually not much need of it. Life is almost always generally pleasant and untroubled, so stretching intellectual capacities, especially when no particular problem is in need of solving, is typically seen as energy wasted.
So, in order to satisfy her constant thirst for puzzles, Aphid made many new and unusual friends in the forest. She had tried telling riddles to the squirrels, but discovered their attention spans to be smaller than a ladybug. amd the raccoons were only interested in puzzles that involved food. The foxes had at first seemed like promising intellectual partners, but soon she discovered that their craftiness was more of a cruelty they lent toward scheming and jokes rather than enjoyable conversation. She had tried the mice, and the owl, the crickets, and even a deer, but none of them seemed to share her passions.
Many seasons passed, and at long last on one particularly ordinary spring day, she found the friend that she had always wanted: a fellow riddle lover named Edee. Edee was a water nymph who lived at the bottom of the lake near Aphid’s sunflower. She had often been lonely in her pond, for she was the only known naiad in the woods, and fear of the surface had kept her in the depths for many years. However, the sound of Aphids sweet singing had given her enough courage to brave the shores, and their friendship had been an instant one.
One day Aphid sat humming to herself as she guided a large oak leaf around the shallows of her home lake. She did this often, for she found that the sounds of the water and the company of the fish brought a particularly pleasant joy to her heart. Using a small twig in both hands as a paddle, she would take herself to the very center of the pond on her leaf-boat to exchange riddles with Edee, who day after day tried rigorously to stump her. Today, however, Edee did not greet her.
Aphid gave a low whistle to make her presence known.
“I know the answer!” she called playfully across the still water. “And this one was tricky! You’re cleverness seems to sharpen by the day!”
Besides the tiny ripples caused by her boat, the water was still. In no hurry, Aphid decided to enjoy the intermittent speckles of sunlight that streamed through the boughs of the overhanging trees. Soon she began to doze, spreading her delicate wings up and out, up and out.
She wasn’t sure how much time had passed when she at last heard a soft splash next to her. Opening her eyes, she spied Edee peering up at her from the water, eyes black and bulging. Overjoyed, she quickly recited the latest riddle.
"What do bear cubs, human infants, and faeries all have in common? They all have bear (bare) feet!!" she said with gusto.
Edee nodded halfheartedly. “Well done, Aphid. You have beaten me yet again.”
“Edee, what makes your face that shape?” Aphid asked.
“Dear Aphid,” Edee moaned, “I have heard a creature screaming in the woods for hours this morning, and it frightened me. You should not be here - you must go home at once and save yourself!”
Aphid frowned. “A creature is screaming in the woods? What if it needs help?”
“It isn’t just any creature, sweet Aphid - I think it’s a bird. You know that I cannot go near the air riders, for they would surely eat me for a snack, and this one is very frightening indeed!”
“Frightening?” asked Aphid, suddenly intrigued.
“Yes! It has no feathers, but hair, and the face of a demon!” Edee shuddered slightly as she spoke, her silvery sleek body quivering all over.
“That does sound quite frightening,” mused Aphid, who was working hard at trying to mask her excitement. A demonic, hairy bird is screaming somewhere in the woods nearby. I must investigate this at once!
"You must return home at once,” pressed Edee.
“But you have not given me a new riddle!” protested Aphid.
“Fine,” said Edee. She thought for a moment, and then recited, “Only one color, but not one size, stuck at the bottom, yet easily flies. Present in sun, but not much in rain, doing no harm, and feeling no pain.” Edee smiled with pride. “This one took me a very long time to think of, so it had better stump you good!”
Aphid smiled, then asked,“Edee, will you tell me where the bird is?"
Edee’s eyes went wide with horror. “You’re not really going to go look for it, are you?”
Aphid did not answer the question directly, and instead said simply, "Well, it will be much easier to avoid it if I know where it is.”
Edee’s body relaxed, and her eyes returned to their normal size. She pointed down a stream that trickled slowly out of the west side of the pond. “It was down that way.”
Aphid thanked her, and once her friend was gone, began paddling her leaf directly toward the west side of the pond.
It didn’t take her long to find the creature the naiad had described, though Aphid was somewhat disappointed upon her arrival. Instead of a demonic hairy bird, she found only an injured fruit bat. It was making quite a ruckus, and Aphid could see that something awful had happened to its right wing.
“Sir?” Aphid called politely from atop a small rock.
The bat was whimpering loudly, but at the sound of Aphid’s voice he turned with a sharp glare. “What do you want?” he rasped.
“Only to help,” Aphid replied in a gentle voice. “What happened?”
The bat gave a shrill moan. “No one can help me,” he sniffled. “My wing is ruined. Ruined! That nasty little farmer’s boy threw a stone at me. A stone! Right at my wing - as though I were nothing but target practice. Or worse - a meal! Who ever heard of humans hunting bats for a meal? I’m tiny enough already. It was an act of pure cruelty, that’s what it was. And now I’m doomed to lie here until a fox finds me.”
“Well, it seems that I’ve found you first,” Aphid observed. “And as you can see, I’m not a fox.” Aphid fluttered softly from her rock and landed near the bat’s face. It was an unusual face, Aphid saw, but far from demonic in her opinion. The bat’s face reminded her a bit of a strange looking mouse, with an elongated muzzle and lots of tiny sharp teeth in it’s mouth, but it’s eyes were kind.
“What’s your name?” asked the bat.
“My name is Aphid. What’s yours?”
“Cricket,” he replied glumly.
“You were named after an insect?”
“No, I was named after a delicacy," Cricket replied indignantly. It sounds like you’re the one who’s named after an insect.”
“My real name is Sterling,” Aphid explained as she moved closer to Cricket’s broken wing. “But I was always called Aphid because I’m so small.”
“I thought all faeries were small,” Cricket mused.
“Well, we are relative to you,” Aphid replied. She could see where delicate bones between the wing’s membranes had been shattered by the flying stone, and though it looked painful, Aphid knew it was not beyond repair.
“Don’t touch it!” Cricket snapped as Aphid reached out a hand.
Aphid pulled her hand back quickly. “Tell me a joke.”
“What?”
“Make me laugh,” Aphid explained.
Cricket only frowned. “What for? I’m not exactly in a cheery mood at the moment...”
“You’ll be glad you did,” Aphid said as she gave him a bright smile.
“I don’t know any jokes,” Cricket huffed.
Aphid only winked. “You’ll find I’m a very forgiving audience.”
Cricket’s frown deepened, and he fell silent in thought for a few moments. After a while he perked up slightly. “Well, I can tell you a funny story, if that will suffice."
Aphid smiled pleasantly. “That will work.”
“All right,” Cricket licked his lips with a flick of his long pinkk tongue. “A few nights past I was scouting out the land near my cave for fresh fruits. I wasn’t having much luck until I happened upon a small farm. (The same one that has the cruel boy on it.) I was investigating some of the orange trees when I spotted an aquaintance of mine near the barn. His name is Redfoot, if you care, and he’s a vampire bat. I perched myself next to him on the ceiling - you know, trying to be friendly and all. I assumed he had been sampling some of the livestock, because his entire face was red and wet with fresh blood, so I also presumed he would be in a good mood. However, once I had landed he started griping about new inventions, humans and their nasty trickery, and something a bit more profain than I care to repeat.
“Anyway, I didn’t know what he was talking about, so I tried to change the subject by asking him where he had received his evening meal from. He only scowled at me and pointed with a wingtips toward the side wall.
“See that window?” he had asked with a snarl.
“No,” I replied after a bit of squinting.
So he then mutters, “Neither did I."
Aphid couldn’t help herself. She exploded into a fit of giggles, and soon noticed that Cricket was chuckling along with her. Trying to be discreet, she reextended her hand toward Cricket’s damaged wing and continued to laugh. Once the two of them had calmed down again, Cricket noticed the location of her palm.
Pulling his wing back angrily from her touch, shouting “Don’t touch that! It hurts!”
Aphid smiled proudly back at him. “I think you’re lying.”
Cricket glanced with surprise at his old wound, which had vanished. “But ... I... how did you do that?”
Aphid only giggled again with delight and sprang to her feet. “All better now?”
Cricket gave his wings a tentative test flap. “It’s as if nothing happened,” he announced with awe. “How did you do that?”
Aphid dusted off her hands briskly. “Laughter is great medicine,” she replied simply.
{Note: The Dreaming is a collection of myths and children's fantasy stories}
Long ago, in a land much different than our own, there was a forest. What is a forest you ask? Well, I shall tell you. If ever you find a place where tall, emerald trees grow thickly together like an army of soldiers standing at attention - trees thrice the size of any full grown Palzune - their boughs and branches so thick and intertwined that flying through them would be an impossible task, you have discovered yourself a forest. Sunlight only breaks through on rare occasions, and it is the home of thousands of creatures. No two forests are the same, just as no two oceans can be the same. Their borders and inhabitants make each one unique. In a forest, streams of water flow freely along the ground without a care in the world of where they might end, and the land surrounding them drinks at its leisure from its cool and endless depths. Sometimes, if you listen with your full attention - never tense but always ready, never thinking but always aware, you can hear the whispers of the rulers of the woods singing – the faeries of the forest realm.
Now a faerie is something amazing to behold. They are a cheerful, proud people, though they stand no taller than a crag lily flower. Long have they communed and loved nature and all of the Author’s creation. Where a faerie steps, life is bound to blossom. The trees in which they dwell can never die, and life has kissed them with purity of the heart. In their merry dancing dwells the gift of happiness, and hidden within their laughter resides a touch of healing. In their realm exists no sorrow, no hunger, and before their playful song no tears are shed.
This story is about a particular faerie by the name of Sterling, though you would not know that was her true name. Since birth, she was instead called Aphid, for she was the smallest faerie in her clan. Her home was in the enclosed pedals of a sunflower near a small lake, where her favorite thing to do was tell and solve riddles. Now, if you know anything about faeries, you should know that puzzles and riddles are not a common past time. In fact, very little thought is ever seriously engaged in the faerie realm, for there is usually not much need of it. Life is almost always generally pleasant and untroubled, so stretching intellectual capacities, especially when no particular problem is in need of solving, is typically seen as energy wasted.
So, in order to satisfy her constant thirst for puzzles, Aphid made many new and unusual friends in the forest. She had tried telling riddles to the squirrels, but discovered their attention spans to be smaller than a ladybug. amd the raccoons were only interested in puzzles that involved food. The foxes had at first seemed like promising intellectual partners, but soon she discovered that their craftiness was more of a cruelty they lent toward scheming and jokes rather than enjoyable conversation. She had tried the mice, and the owl, the crickets, and even a deer, but none of them seemed to share her passions.
Many seasons passed, and at long last on one particularly ordinary spring day, she found the friend that she had always wanted: a fellow riddle lover named Edee. Edee was a water nymph who lived at the bottom of the lake near Aphid’s sunflower. She had often been lonely in her pond, for she was the only known naiad in the woods, and fear of the surface had kept her in the depths for many years. However, the sound of Aphids sweet singing had given her enough courage to brave the shores, and their friendship had been an instant one.
One day Aphid sat humming to herself as she guided a large oak leaf around the shallows of her home lake. She did this often, for she found that the sounds of the water and the company of the fish brought a particularly pleasant joy to her heart. Using a small twig in both hands as a paddle, she would take herself to the very center of the pond on her leaf-boat to exchange riddles with Edee, who day after day tried rigorously to stump her. Today, however, Edee did not greet her.
Aphid gave a low whistle to make her presence known.
“I know the answer!” she called playfully across the still water. “And this one was tricky! You’re cleverness seems to sharpen by the day!”
Besides the tiny ripples caused by her boat, the water was still. In no hurry, Aphid decided to enjoy the intermittent speckles of sunlight that streamed through the boughs of the overhanging trees. Soon she began to doze, spreading her delicate wings up and out, up and out.
She wasn’t sure how much time had passed when she at last heard a soft splash next to her. Opening her eyes, she spied Edee peering up at her from the water, eyes black and bulging. Overjoyed, she quickly recited the latest riddle.
"What do bear cubs, human infants, and faeries all have in common? They all have bear (bare) feet!!" she said with gusto.
Edee nodded halfheartedly. “Well done, Aphid. You have beaten me yet again.”
“Edee, what makes your face that shape?” Aphid asked.
“Dear Aphid,” Edee moaned, “I have heard a creature screaming in the woods for hours this morning, and it frightened me. You should not be here - you must go home at once and save yourself!”
Aphid frowned. “A creature is screaming in the woods? What if it needs help?”
“It isn’t just any creature, sweet Aphid - I think it’s a bird. You know that I cannot go near the air riders, for they would surely eat me for a snack, and this one is very frightening indeed!”
“Frightening?” asked Aphid, suddenly intrigued.
“Yes! It has no feathers, but hair, and the face of a demon!” Edee shuddered slightly as she spoke, her silvery sleek body quivering all over.
“That does sound quite frightening,” mused Aphid, who was working hard at trying to mask her excitement. A demonic, hairy bird is screaming somewhere in the woods nearby. I must investigate this at once!
"You must return home at once,” pressed Edee.
“But you have not given me a new riddle!” protested Aphid.
“Fine,” said Edee. She thought for a moment, and then recited, “Only one color, but not one size, stuck at the bottom, yet easily flies. Present in sun, but not much in rain, doing no harm, and feeling no pain.” Edee smiled with pride. “This one took me a very long time to think of, so it had better stump you good!”
Aphid smiled, then asked,“Edee, will you tell me where the bird is?"
Edee’s eyes went wide with horror. “You’re not really going to go look for it, are you?”
Aphid did not answer the question directly, and instead said simply, "Well, it will be much easier to avoid it if I know where it is.”
Edee’s body relaxed, and her eyes returned to their normal size. She pointed down a stream that trickled slowly out of the west side of the pond. “It was down that way.”
Aphid thanked her, and once her friend was gone, began paddling her leaf directly toward the west side of the pond.
It didn’t take her long to find the creature the naiad had described, though Aphid was somewhat disappointed upon her arrival. Instead of a demonic hairy bird, she found only an injured fruit bat. It was making quite a ruckus, and Aphid could see that something awful had happened to its right wing.
“Sir?” Aphid called politely from atop a small rock.
The bat was whimpering loudly, but at the sound of Aphid’s voice he turned with a sharp glare. “What do you want?” he rasped.
“Only to help,” Aphid replied in a gentle voice. “What happened?”
The bat gave a shrill moan. “No one can help me,” he sniffled. “My wing is ruined. Ruined! That nasty little farmer’s boy threw a stone at me. A stone! Right at my wing - as though I were nothing but target practice. Or worse - a meal! Who ever heard of humans hunting bats for a meal? I’m tiny enough already. It was an act of pure cruelty, that’s what it was. And now I’m doomed to lie here until a fox finds me.”
“Well, it seems that I’ve found you first,” Aphid observed. “And as you can see, I’m not a fox.” Aphid fluttered softly from her rock and landed near the bat’s face. It was an unusual face, Aphid saw, but far from demonic in her opinion. The bat’s face reminded her a bit of a strange looking mouse, with an elongated muzzle and lots of tiny sharp teeth in it’s mouth, but it’s eyes were kind.
“What’s your name?” asked the bat.
“My name is Aphid. What’s yours?”
“Cricket,” he replied glumly.
“You were named after an insect?”
“No, I was named after a delicacy," Cricket replied indignantly. It sounds like you’re the one who’s named after an insect.”
“My real name is Sterling,” Aphid explained as she moved closer to Cricket’s broken wing. “But I was always called Aphid because I’m so small.”
“I thought all faeries were small,” Cricket mused.
“Well, we are relative to you,” Aphid replied. She could see where delicate bones between the wing’s membranes had been shattered by the flying stone, and though it looked painful, Aphid knew it was not beyond repair.
“Don’t touch it!” Cricket snapped as Aphid reached out a hand.
Aphid pulled her hand back quickly. “Tell me a joke.”
“What?”
“Make me laugh,” Aphid explained.
Cricket only frowned. “What for? I’m not exactly in a cheery mood at the moment...”
“You’ll be glad you did,” Aphid said as she gave him a bright smile.
“I don’t know any jokes,” Cricket huffed.
Aphid only winked. “You’ll find I’m a very forgiving audience.”
Cricket’s frown deepened, and he fell silent in thought for a few moments. After a while he perked up slightly. “Well, I can tell you a funny story, if that will suffice."
Aphid smiled pleasantly. “That will work.”
“All right,” Cricket licked his lips with a flick of his long pinkk tongue. “A few nights past I was scouting out the land near my cave for fresh fruits. I wasn’t having much luck until I happened upon a small farm. (The same one that has the cruel boy on it.) I was investigating some of the orange trees when I spotted an aquaintance of mine near the barn. His name is Redfoot, if you care, and he’s a vampire bat. I perched myself next to him on the ceiling - you know, trying to be friendly and all. I assumed he had been sampling some of the livestock, because his entire face was red and wet with fresh blood, so I also presumed he would be in a good mood. However, once I had landed he started griping about new inventions, humans and their nasty trickery, and something a bit more profain than I care to repeat.
“Anyway, I didn’t know what he was talking about, so I tried to change the subject by asking him where he had received his evening meal from. He only scowled at me and pointed with a wingtips toward the side wall.
“See that window?” he had asked with a snarl.
“No,” I replied after a bit of squinting.
So he then mutters, “Neither did I."
Aphid couldn’t help herself. She exploded into a fit of giggles, and soon noticed that Cricket was chuckling along with her. Trying to be discreet, she reextended her hand toward Cricket’s damaged wing and continued to laugh. Once the two of them had calmed down again, Cricket noticed the location of her palm.
Pulling his wing back angrily from her touch, shouting “Don’t touch that! It hurts!”
Aphid smiled proudly back at him. “I think you’re lying.”
Cricket glanced with surprise at his old wound, which had vanished. “But ... I... how did you do that?”
Aphid only giggled again with delight and sprang to her feet. “All better now?”
Cricket gave his wings a tentative test flap. “It’s as if nothing happened,” he announced with awe. “How did you do that?”
Aphid dusted off her hands briskly. “Laughter is great medicine,” she replied simply.
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
Saidra
Saidra is a mysterious girl who was held since she was very young as a "song bird" for the high priest of the Blood Hymn, Grier Larkin. (A very evil and rough fellow.)
Her unnaturally beautiful voice was noticed by many, and her family sold her to the cult for a small fortune. She doesn't know much about the world or society in general, but she is a genius when it comes to music. She has perfect pitch, and more or less lives "in her own little world" that she has constructed in her mind.
She is very pale, which makes most think that she came from Janu, a city far to the southwest. Her hair is a startling bright red, and extremely long since she never cut it.
Her unnaturally beautiful voice was noticed by many, and her family sold her to the cult for a small fortune. She doesn't know much about the world or society in general, but she is a genius when it comes to music. She has perfect pitch, and more or less lives "in her own little world" that she has constructed in her mind.
She is very pale, which makes most think that she came from Janu, a city far to the southwest. Her hair is a startling bright red, and extremely long since she never cut it.
Friday, September 14, 2007
Drayden
Patient. Wise. Deadly.
Drayden was kidnapped from his home as a baby, and doesn't remember his family. He was trained from the start as an assassin, learning skills that made him a stealthy, lethal predator. The group that kidnapped him are a resistance movement in the hill country, who don't like the way Thebes (the capitol city) is run. They are kind of religious nuts.
A priest in this group teaches Drayden to read and write, and also trains him as a kind of pseudo-scholar.
When Drayden was still quite young, the outpost of these zealots was found, and he was forced to flee. He didn't know much about his neighboring cities, but he was well trained to survive in the wild on his own. He eventually takes a job with a local city guard, where he meets Idaceen. She recognizes his skills, and when she leaves to make a sports team, she recruits him. He's the "secret weapon" on the team, the one everyone else is afraid of. Idaceen tends to think outside the box, so you never know which way she's going to use his skill.
He's kind of the typical "strong, silent" type, but he has kind of a quirky sense of humor. It's a little twisted, but he's generally a good natured fellow. He never really took particular enjoyement out of being an assassin, he just kind of did it, and he was good at it. He likes music more than anything ... he frequently attends city wise art displays of either music or theater.
Drayden was kidnapped from his home as a baby, and doesn't remember his family. He was trained from the start as an assassin, learning skills that made him a stealthy, lethal predator. The group that kidnapped him are a resistance movement in the hill country, who don't like the way Thebes (the capitol city) is run. They are kind of religious nuts.
A priest in this group teaches Drayden to read and write, and also trains him as a kind of pseudo-scholar.
When Drayden was still quite young, the outpost of these zealots was found, and he was forced to flee. He didn't know much about his neighboring cities, but he was well trained to survive in the wild on his own. He eventually takes a job with a local city guard, where he meets Idaceen. She recognizes his skills, and when she leaves to make a sports team, she recruits him. He's the "secret weapon" on the team, the one everyone else is afraid of. Idaceen tends to think outside the box, so you never know which way she's going to use his skill.
He's kind of the typical "strong, silent" type, but he has kind of a quirky sense of humor. It's a little twisted, but he's generally a good natured fellow. He never really took particular enjoyement out of being an assassin, he just kind of did it, and he was good at it. He likes music more than anything ... he frequently attends city wise art displays of either music or theater.
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
Idaceen & Pargon Cliffsong
Idaceen and Pargon are siblings, but they are pretty much nothing alike.
Idaceen is a hot tempered, in your face warrior. Her parents were killed when she was very young right in front of her, and she's been looking for a little revenge ever since. Sadly, the guys who killed them were brought to justice by the state, and this didn't really make her feel any better. She began training for the army, but was not accepted because she is female. Though this obviously was quite upsetting, she decided to join a local guard instead. (Who don't care what sex you are - they just care if you can kick someone's ass if you need to.) The local guard had some ... well, moral problems. They were basically thugs, and after a few years she couldn't really take the mindless brutality of it anymore.
So after all that, through a wide variety of circumstances, she began leading a team of local athletes. (The sport is basically capture the flag with blow-darts.) They're quite good, and she plans on using her influence with the team to gain some political recognition so she can change the way the city is run.
She's a vegetarian by choice, and likes to dye her hair strange flashy colors. She can't cook anything worth a damn, and absolutely hates it when her teeth feel dirty. She also has a pet ferret named Bandit, who she seems to be able to talk to.
Pargon, on the other hand, is a ridiculously mild mannered fellow with no desire to fight anything, ever. This strikes most as odd, because he's a very big, muscular guy who intimidates people just by looking at them. (They just don't realize he'd never dream of hurting them.)
He has a deep love of natural sciences - plants and animals alike. He's quite brilliant in his research, and has developed many useful things for the aid of the city, like basic protein bars that are used in times of famine, as well as a variety of particularly hearty grains and seeds.
Pargon is a hopeless romantic, but is usually too shy to talk to any females besides his own sister, who he loves deeply but is usually quite embarassed by her brazen, openly sexual behavior. He spends almost all his time in a small labratory by himself, continually enraptured by experiments and research.
A little known fact: since the murder of his parents, he has suffered from vivid night terrors that prevent him from being able to sleep near anyone, lest he hurt or kill them in self defense in his sleep.
Idaceen is a hot tempered, in your face warrior. Her parents were killed when she was very young right in front of her, and she's been looking for a little revenge ever since. Sadly, the guys who killed them were brought to justice by the state, and this didn't really make her feel any better. She began training for the army, but was not accepted because she is female. Though this obviously was quite upsetting, she decided to join a local guard instead. (Who don't care what sex you are - they just care if you can kick someone's ass if you need to.) The local guard had some ... well, moral problems. They were basically thugs, and after a few years she couldn't really take the mindless brutality of it anymore.
So after all that, through a wide variety of circumstances, she began leading a team of local athletes. (The sport is basically capture the flag with blow-darts.) They're quite good, and she plans on using her influence with the team to gain some political recognition so she can change the way the city is run.
She's a vegetarian by choice, and likes to dye her hair strange flashy colors. She can't cook anything worth a damn, and absolutely hates it when her teeth feel dirty. She also has a pet ferret named Bandit, who she seems to be able to talk to.
Pargon, on the other hand, is a ridiculously mild mannered fellow with no desire to fight anything, ever. This strikes most as odd, because he's a very big, muscular guy who intimidates people just by looking at them. (They just don't realize he'd never dream of hurting them.)
He has a deep love of natural sciences - plants and animals alike. He's quite brilliant in his research, and has developed many useful things for the aid of the city, like basic protein bars that are used in times of famine, as well as a variety of particularly hearty grains and seeds.
Pargon is a hopeless romantic, but is usually too shy to talk to any females besides his own sister, who he loves deeply but is usually quite embarassed by her brazen, openly sexual behavior. He spends almost all his time in a small labratory by himself, continually enraptured by experiments and research.
A little known fact: since the murder of his parents, he has suffered from vivid night terrors that prevent him from being able to sleep near anyone, lest he hurt or kill them in self defense in his sleep.
Monday, September 10, 2007
Hyrin Ironpalm
Hyrin is a big, big, big, man. Not fat, but muscular and broad shouldered. He is an excellent blacksmith, but hates violence. He often struggles about his place in life making weapons for armies, and overcomes this by his other more artistic projects. (Typically sculptures of sorts made from old twisted metals.) He crafts simple jewelry for kids in his free time.
Hyrin is also something of a scholar. He taught himself to read when he was young, but he does not have much access to reading material. He does, however, often ponder a wide variety of social and metaphysical puzzles. Though his thoughts are unschooled, he is wise and observant, and deeply hopes that life has more meaning than the tragedy he sees on a daily basis.
Hyrin is also something of a scholar. He taught himself to read when he was young, but he does not have much access to reading material. He does, however, often ponder a wide variety of social and metaphysical puzzles. Though his thoughts are unschooled, he is wise and observant, and deeply hopes that life has more meaning than the tragedy he sees on a daily basis.
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
Arethia "Starcrown" Nimanthi
The second child born of Commander Arnak and Vashti. She suffered from severe dandruff as a child and got the name "Starcrown" from her mother because of the flakes that looked like stars falling from her head. (Her mother wanted her to confront her issue while not feeling belittled because of it.)
She was trained since birth to be a Lore Keeper because she has such an excellent memory. She learns and memorizes history, songs, legends, and myths as well as many traditional dances. Her physical grace made her an excellent swordsman, at least, whenever her brother would have the time to train her.
Being a perfectionist of sorts and having much pressure from her mother to be perfect, she suffers from high anxiety and stress. This became the unfortunate reason she cannot bear children, something that tears her to pieces daily and has her in a continual flux of anger and guilt because of it.
She was trained since birth to be a Lore Keeper because she has such an excellent memory. She learns and memorizes history, songs, legends, and myths as well as many traditional dances. Her physical grace made her an excellent swordsman, at least, whenever her brother would have the time to train her.
Being a perfectionist of sorts and having much pressure from her mother to be perfect, she suffers from high anxiety and stress. This became the unfortunate reason she cannot bear children, something that tears her to pieces daily and has her in a continual flux of anger and guilt because of it.
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