Post by perfectsinner on Apr 17, 2008 17:49:25 GMT -5
Name: Zenna
Age: 24
Sex: Female
Race: Half-Elf
Height: 5’ 10
Description: Average height for an elf, but slightly taller than most human females. She is pale skinned and has a dirty blonde hair that is several inches past her shoulders, but she usually keeps it in a tight bun in order to see her foes easily. Her outfit is made of whatever she finds in the woods or what has been passed down in her family and tribe. She is graceful in her movements and is very timid. She has never left her village before so she sticks to the shadows. She has a handsome face and cocoa brown eyes. She is bubbly in personality, but knows when to buckle down and become serious.
-Melee Weapons: small daggers that she keeps on the inside of her boots that she only uses when necessary and a long wooden staff engraved with white magic caused by the touch of the god Crustai that has been passed down to all of the great healers in her tribe.
-Ranged Weapons: She carries none, but she was trained with various bows growing up, but didn’t feel she was chosen for that field.
-Orb magics, other magics, and enchanted weapon magics: Rever, her long wooden staff that was passed down her family line for many generations. It has aided her family in times of need to help the wounded.
Additional skills: healer and sometimes entertains at local taverns for extra cash.
Weaknesses: Her race is dying, she is easily distracted, she can’t lift large weapons, and her fighting skills are fairly limited.
Alliance: has no alliance at the beginning, she wishes to just find a way to keep her race from extinction.
Brief History: She is from a small tribe of elves that has been in hiding hoping they don’t fall victim like their neighboring tribes. She only knew her parents for a few years before they sent her away to safety. Multiple people in the tribe helped to bring her up, but some refused because she was half human. She is now determined to set out on her own to help in whatever way she can with the war.
Sample Role Playing:
The village people made a semi-circle around her and watched as she picked up her pack. A few were crying, some were trying to hide their smiles, while others glared at her with hatred. This was what she was used to. No one truly accepted her for who she was and the ones who did were few and far between. But there was one face that she could not help but chuckle at. Nandor stood in the very back of the crowd, his arms crossed over his chest and his eyes sending darts in her direction. He was a full blooded elf but was three years too young to travel by himself. He was always trying to pick fights with her and she would always ignore him, which only ticked him off more. But her gaze moved across the crowd again and then rested on Parew. He was the one that had taken her under his wing and taught her the basics about healing and guarded her from some of the other elves hard words. He was only five years older than her, but wise beyond his years. He stood there, his shoulders back and his face hard.
“You know what?” she asked him as she went up to hug him one last time.
“Hmmm….?” He asked as he returned the favor.
“I’m going to miss you” she said and then turned around because she knew he wouldn’t reply, it wasn’t his way. He was too much of a man. But with one last look back before she left the village, she could have sworn she saw a faint trace of a tear fall down the side of his face.
Age: 24
Sex: Female
Race: Half-Elf
Height: 5’ 10
Description: Average height for an elf, but slightly taller than most human females. She is pale skinned and has a dirty blonde hair that is several inches past her shoulders, but she usually keeps it in a tight bun in order to see her foes easily. Her outfit is made of whatever she finds in the woods or what has been passed down in her family and tribe. She is graceful in her movements and is very timid. She has never left her village before so she sticks to the shadows. She has a handsome face and cocoa brown eyes. She is bubbly in personality, but knows when to buckle down and become serious.
-Melee Weapons: small daggers that she keeps on the inside of her boots that she only uses when necessary and a long wooden staff engraved with white magic caused by the touch of the god Crustai that has been passed down to all of the great healers in her tribe.
-Ranged Weapons: She carries none, but she was trained with various bows growing up, but didn’t feel she was chosen for that field.
-Orb magics, other magics, and enchanted weapon magics: Rever, her long wooden staff that was passed down her family line for many generations. It has aided her family in times of need to help the wounded.
Additional skills: healer and sometimes entertains at local taverns for extra cash.
Weaknesses: Her race is dying, she is easily distracted, she can’t lift large weapons, and her fighting skills are fairly limited.
Alliance: has no alliance at the beginning, she wishes to just find a way to keep her race from extinction.
Brief History: She is from a small tribe of elves that has been in hiding hoping they don’t fall victim like their neighboring tribes. She only knew her parents for a few years before they sent her away to safety. Multiple people in the tribe helped to bring her up, but some refused because she was half human. She is now determined to set out on her own to help in whatever way she can with the war.
Sample Role Playing:
The village people made a semi-circle around her and watched as she picked up her pack. A few were crying, some were trying to hide their smiles, while others glared at her with hatred. This was what she was used to. No one truly accepted her for who she was and the ones who did were few and far between. But there was one face that she could not help but chuckle at. Nandor stood in the very back of the crowd, his arms crossed over his chest and his eyes sending darts in her direction. He was a full blooded elf but was three years too young to travel by himself. He was always trying to pick fights with her and she would always ignore him, which only ticked him off more. But her gaze moved across the crowd again and then rested on Parew. He was the one that had taken her under his wing and taught her the basics about healing and guarded her from some of the other elves hard words. He was only five years older than her, but wise beyond his years. He stood there, his shoulders back and his face hard.
“You know what?” she asked him as she went up to hug him one last time.
“Hmmm….?” He asked as he returned the favor.
“I’m going to miss you” she said and then turned around because she knew he wouldn’t reply, it wasn’t his way. He was too much of a man. But with one last look back before she left the village, she could have sworn she saw a faint trace of a tear fall down the side of his face.