}}Level{1} Health{10} Strength{4} Defence{2} Magic{0} Resistince{0} Speed{4} Gold{0} 
Post by Ramundi on Oct 29, 2006 21:53:03 GMT -5
Name: Ramundi
Age: 14
Height: '5"9
Weight: 210
Appearence: A young, dark-skinned man wearing regular nomad's clothes and has a bow slung across his back, with a sword hanging from his belt.
Class: Ranger(no horse)
Weapons: Bow and sword.
Status:
Health: 10
Strength: 4
Defence: 2
Magic: 0
Resistance: 0
Speed: 4
History: Ramundi grew up with his father learing how to become a nomad. His mother had died during labor, and his father was the chief of his small group of about 12-16 people. The adults of this group rarely left, as many of them had no other skills ohter than horseback riding, archery and a few cases in which some people had the skill of swordplay. Many adolesants went and joined the army for a more exciting life and better pay than out on the open plains. Those few who stayed, mainly the women, the weak, or the unfourturnate, stayed with the group until death, about thirty years later.
Ramundi, however did not get to have a choice, as the Hand of Fate interupted this cycle. Ramundi was to be forever lost in the outside world., with only fleeting images of his past life and his father's gruesome death. At this point, Ramundi had already mastered the bow and the sword, being exceptionally talented in those areas, and had just started to ride horses. His father had very high hopes for his son. He said how he was going to be a general in the army and what a difference he would make. He was so proud of his son's amazing skill in archery and swordplay that in a year's time would even beat his own skill. Ramundi was six.
It started off as any normal day, Ramundi was sitting in his father's horse with him, Ramundi's observant eyes taking in every little detail. They were riding at a trot on the open plain, a forest expanding far off in the distance in front and behind them on the right-hand side, somewhere in the northeast part of the continent. They party was traveling in a caravan, with Ramundi and his father near the rear. Suddenly there was a commotion up ahead. The scout that Ramundi's father had sent up ahead came crashing though the trees, covered in nicks and scratches from riding so fast. He came galloping up, his horse panting like it had just ran twenty miles, which it probably had, yelling at the top of his lungs,"Demons!!! Hundreds of them! Coming this way! Run!!!" At this, as if on que, the entire caravan turned each of their heads towards the forest. Fast approching was something coming through the forest. It was too big to be any kind of horse and not entrirely large enough to be an army-an army of humans at least.
That is when it hit them.
All at once there were children and women screaming, horses running around, crazed by the now quickly growing noise of hundreds of heavy footsteps. Even Ramundi knew-it was too late. No one has ever been known to survive an attack by a Cyclops-even one is enough to kill any normal human, let alone a herd of the crazed baests. As this thought was racing around his head Ramundi was sunddenly picked up and carried for about five minutes then thrown on the ground next to a tree and quickly coverd with foilage. Ramundi looked up in time to see his father racing off towards the sound of the nearby battle, his bow drawn, with a determined look on his face. Ramundi quickly covered up the hole and waited.
He waited for a full ten minutes after the sounds of the monsters' footsteps was lost in the now eerie silence. He slowly got up and causiously walked to the site of the battle.
It was a gruesome scene. Unidentifiable bones were littered all around with blood splattered on everything you looked at. Ramundi walked over to the only thing that you could call bodies. Half-chewed corpes of at least five Cyclops were scattered in one single area. in the middle he found the obvious body of his father- as it was the only body with the clothes stiil on. The only thing that made this corpse different from the man he once knew was a gash theat ran along the length of his chest from the left shoulder to the right hip. Ramundi suddenly collapsed on his knees and wept.
* * *
After thrity minutes of weeping over his late father, Ramundi got up and picked up his father's still intact sword and bow-the same sword and bow that took down five of the deadliest ceatures on Arcanna. Remundi then made his way to the nearest town and bought a meal with his last remaining money. From then on he was hired as a mercenary and piratefor-hire, honing his skills waiting for the day when he can finally get some payback.
Age: 14
Height: '5"9
Weight: 210
Appearence: A young, dark-skinned man wearing regular nomad's clothes and has a bow slung across his back, with a sword hanging from his belt.
Class: Ranger(no horse)
Weapons: Bow and sword.
Status:
Health: 10
Strength: 4
Defence: 2
Magic: 0
Resistance: 0
Speed: 4
History: Ramundi grew up with his father learing how to become a nomad. His mother had died during labor, and his father was the chief of his small group of about 12-16 people. The adults of this group rarely left, as many of them had no other skills ohter than horseback riding, archery and a few cases in which some people had the skill of swordplay. Many adolesants went and joined the army for a more exciting life and better pay than out on the open plains. Those few who stayed, mainly the women, the weak, or the unfourturnate, stayed with the group until death, about thirty years later.
Ramundi, however did not get to have a choice, as the Hand of Fate interupted this cycle. Ramundi was to be forever lost in the outside world., with only fleeting images of his past life and his father's gruesome death. At this point, Ramundi had already mastered the bow and the sword, being exceptionally talented in those areas, and had just started to ride horses. His father had very high hopes for his son. He said how he was going to be a general in the army and what a difference he would make. He was so proud of his son's amazing skill in archery and swordplay that in a year's time would even beat his own skill. Ramundi was six.
It started off as any normal day, Ramundi was sitting in his father's horse with him, Ramundi's observant eyes taking in every little detail. They were riding at a trot on the open plain, a forest expanding far off in the distance in front and behind them on the right-hand side, somewhere in the northeast part of the continent. They party was traveling in a caravan, with Ramundi and his father near the rear. Suddenly there was a commotion up ahead. The scout that Ramundi's father had sent up ahead came crashing though the trees, covered in nicks and scratches from riding so fast. He came galloping up, his horse panting like it had just ran twenty miles, which it probably had, yelling at the top of his lungs,"Demons!!! Hundreds of them! Coming this way! Run!!!" At this, as if on que, the entire caravan turned each of their heads towards the forest. Fast approching was something coming through the forest. It was too big to be any kind of horse and not entrirely large enough to be an army-an army of humans at least.
That is when it hit them.
All at once there were children and women screaming, horses running around, crazed by the now quickly growing noise of hundreds of heavy footsteps. Even Ramundi knew-it was too late. No one has ever been known to survive an attack by a Cyclops-even one is enough to kill any normal human, let alone a herd of the crazed baests. As this thought was racing around his head Ramundi was sunddenly picked up and carried for about five minutes then thrown on the ground next to a tree and quickly coverd with foilage. Ramundi looked up in time to see his father racing off towards the sound of the nearby battle, his bow drawn, with a determined look on his face. Ramundi quickly covered up the hole and waited.
He waited for a full ten minutes after the sounds of the monsters' footsteps was lost in the now eerie silence. He slowly got up and causiously walked to the site of the battle.
It was a gruesome scene. Unidentifiable bones were littered all around with blood splattered on everything you looked at. Ramundi walked over to the only thing that you could call bodies. Half-chewed corpes of at least five Cyclops were scattered in one single area. in the middle he found the obvious body of his father- as it was the only body with the clothes stiil on. The only thing that made this corpse different from the man he once knew was a gash theat ran along the length of his chest from the left shoulder to the right hip. Ramundi suddenly collapsed on his knees and wept.
* * *
After thrity minutes of weeping over his late father, Ramundi got up and picked up his father's still intact sword and bow-the same sword and bow that took down five of the deadliest ceatures on Arcanna. Remundi then made his way to the nearest town and bought a meal with his last remaining money. From then on he was hired as a mercenary and piratefor-hire, honing his skills waiting for the day when he can finally get some payback.
