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Here is my offering for when this gets back up and running:
Name: Thorin Hartfield
Age: 19
Gender: Male
Appearance: Thorin is painfully skinny at first look, but a closer inspection would show that he is all lean muscle. He stands about 5'8" tall, and weighs bout 125 pounds. His facial features are gaunt and angular, and his face is dominated by his dark bushy eyebrows and large hawkish nose. His hands are covered with the small pockmark burn scars that are common to his profession, and there is continually an acrid smell that whafts from his clothing, remants of the potions and brews that he is constantly making. His overlarge, slate grey eyes are constantly darting to and frow, taking in all of the detail of his environment, giving him a nervous appearance. This couldn't be further from the truth as he is highly intelligent and applies a calm collected logic to everything he encounters. Clad in simple, dark, homespun shirt and trousers, he wears a leather belt at which is sheathed a large hunting dagger, and a multitude of pouches that contain the ingredients for alchemical potions and brews, and he rarely leaves his house without his deep hooded black cloak that shields his sensitive eyes from the sun.
Personality: Thorin is a dark brooding young man. Due to his horrific past, he sees the world through a detached point of view. He feels very litte empathy for others, and has a hard time identifying with other people. He is very analytical and comes off as very dry and scathing when he does speak, and as such is pretty off putting to others. Despite his natural shyness and pessimistic personality he desperately wants to fit in somewhere. He is at constant odds with himself, pulled between the constant brooding hatred that the death of his parents inspires, and the desire to find a meaningful connection with the people around him.
Background: Thorin was born in a small village on the border of Stirland and the dread country of Sylvania. His father a Farmer, and his mother an assistant to the local alchemist. His early years were happy enough, as much as they could be living in the shadow of the haunted hills, and he spent most of his time assisting his mother at the alchemist's shop, being too small and sickly to help his father and his brothers in the fields. Though this caused some tension between Thorin and his brothers, they all recognized his skills and natural aptitudes in the field of alchemy, and often praised him when he would cure a calf from nettle poisonings, and other small things that contributed to the welfare of the family. Though he tried to fit in with the other village youngsters his brooding personality and low self-esteem constantly resulted in him being ostricized, making him prone to sudden fits of temper. It was only to grow worse for Thorin.
In the early part of his tenth year, a horde of the undead, risen to life by the foul sorcery of the vampire clans, marched through his village on their way to the city of Worden, razing it to the ground, killing his entire family save his eldest brother, Nerim. Nerim returned to the village after a night and day hunting in the Altern Forest to find his village decimated and in the remains of his home he found Thorin, cluthing their mother's corpse, rocking back and forth silently crying. Nerim knew that his mother had a brother who lived in the far off country of Nordland, and finding a horse that had been loosed during the battle, he took up his younger brother and set out on the long journey the through the Reikwald Forests, across the Midden Moors, up the Great North Road, and finally through the Laurelorn Forest to their uncles home. Little did Thorin know that during the journey, Nerim had forgone food and water multiple times to keep his brother fed, and that by the time they reached their destination, Nerim was on death's door from starvation and illness brought on by malnutrition. A mere week after their arrival, Thorin was forced to bury another family member, and the loss threw him into a deep depression that has plagued him ever since.
His time with his Uncle Chriton, the village alchemist, was less than amiable, as Chriton was a hard and demanding man. Though he did learn much from the man about the brewing of potions, he Thorin received very little in the way of emotional support as Chriton was a miser, never having taken a wife or begetting a child of his own. It was not that his uncle did not care for the boy, it was just that he did not know what to do with him, or how to show is affection.
Thorin rarely interacted with the village population, other than a terse uncomfortable word with other patrons of the village tavern, preferring to spend his nights in study, and his days in the forests hunting and gathering ingredients for the potions and brews he was working on. Until the fateful day that history was to repeat itself for young Thorin, and the horde of beastmen came and destroyed the place that he now called home. With his uncle dead, Thorin is the last of his family line and feels little compulsion to stay in the village that now holds even more bad memories for him. Taking what meager valuables he was able to salvage from the ruins of his house, he has set out to find new fortunes and hopefully more favorable winds.
Weapons list: Hand Carved Ash recurved long bow and arrows, large hunting dagger.
Equiment: Alchemists belt, small silver dagger for using in potion making, Home spun dark maroon shirt, home made black pants, leather boots, deep hooded black cloak, Small flint and tinder box, bedroll, backpack, tent, black stallion taken in the aftermath of the attack and appropriate saddle and tack.
Name: Thorin Hartfield
Age: 19
Gender: Male
Appearance: Thorin is painfully skinny at first look, but a closer inspection would show that he is all lean muscle. He stands about 5'8" tall, and weighs bout 125 pounds. His facial features are gaunt and angular, and his face is dominated by his dark bushy eyebrows and large hawkish nose. His hands are covered with the small pockmark burn scars that are common to his profession, and there is continually an acrid smell that whafts from his clothing, remants of the potions and brews that he is constantly making. His overlarge, slate grey eyes are constantly darting to and frow, taking in all of the detail of his environment, giving him a nervous appearance. This couldn't be further from the truth as he is highly intelligent and applies a calm collected logic to everything he encounters. Clad in simple, dark, homespun shirt and trousers, he wears a leather belt at which is sheathed a large hunting dagger, and a multitude of pouches that contain the ingredients for alchemical potions and brews, and he rarely leaves his house without his deep hooded black cloak that shields his sensitive eyes from the sun.
Personality: Thorin is a dark brooding young man. Due to his horrific past, he sees the world through a detached point of view. He feels very litte empathy for others, and has a hard time identifying with other people. He is very analytical and comes off as very dry and scathing when he does speak, and as such is pretty off putting to others. Despite his natural shyness and pessimistic personality he desperately wants to fit in somewhere. He is at constant odds with himself, pulled between the constant brooding hatred that the death of his parents inspires, and the desire to find a meaningful connection with the people around him.
Background: Thorin was born in a small village on the border of Stirland and the dread country of Sylvania. His father a Farmer, and his mother an assistant to the local alchemist. His early years were happy enough, as much as they could be living in the shadow of the haunted hills, and he spent most of his time assisting his mother at the alchemist's shop, being too small and sickly to help his father and his brothers in the fields. Though this caused some tension between Thorin and his brothers, they all recognized his skills and natural aptitudes in the field of alchemy, and often praised him when he would cure a calf from nettle poisonings, and other small things that contributed to the welfare of the family. Though he tried to fit in with the other village youngsters his brooding personality and low self-esteem constantly resulted in him being ostricized, making him prone to sudden fits of temper. It was only to grow worse for Thorin.
In the early part of his tenth year, a horde of the undead, risen to life by the foul sorcery of the vampire clans, marched through his village on their way to the city of Worden, razing it to the ground, killing his entire family save his eldest brother, Nerim. Nerim returned to the village after a night and day hunting in the Altern Forest to find his village decimated and in the remains of his home he found Thorin, cluthing their mother's corpse, rocking back and forth silently crying. Nerim knew that his mother had a brother who lived in the far off country of Nordland, and finding a horse that had been loosed during the battle, he took up his younger brother and set out on the long journey the through the Reikwald Forests, across the Midden Moors, up the Great North Road, and finally through the Laurelorn Forest to their uncles home. Little did Thorin know that during the journey, Nerim had forgone food and water multiple times to keep his brother fed, and that by the time they reached their destination, Nerim was on death's door from starvation and illness brought on by malnutrition. A mere week after their arrival, Thorin was forced to bury another family member, and the loss threw him into a deep depression that has plagued him ever since.
His time with his Uncle Chriton, the village alchemist, was less than amiable, as Chriton was a hard and demanding man. Though he did learn much from the man about the brewing of potions, he Thorin received very little in the way of emotional support as Chriton was a miser, never having taken a wife or begetting a child of his own. It was not that his uncle did not care for the boy, it was just that he did not know what to do with him, or how to show is affection.
Thorin rarely interacted with the village population, other than a terse uncomfortable word with other patrons of the village tavern, preferring to spend his nights in study, and his days in the forests hunting and gathering ingredients for the potions and brews he was working on. Until the fateful day that history was to repeat itself for young Thorin, and the horde of beastmen came and destroyed the place that he now called home. With his uncle dead, Thorin is the last of his family line and feels little compulsion to stay in the village that now holds even more bad memories for him. Taking what meager valuables he was able to salvage from the ruins of his house, he has set out to find new fortunes and hopefully more favorable winds.
Weapons list: Hand Carved Ash recurved long bow and arrows, large hunting dagger.
Equiment: Alchemists belt, small silver dagger for using in potion making, Home spun dark maroon shirt, home made black pants, leather boots, deep hooded black cloak, Small flint and tinder box, bedroll, backpack, tent, black stallion taken in the aftermath of the attack and appropriate saddle and tack.
My apologies. I went back and made the necessary edits. Hope this fits the sequence of events better.
