Post by Garrett on Aug 20, 2013 12:58:26 GMT -8
Name: Garrett Elder
Age: 18
Class: Cleric
Appearance: Garrett is not a man you run away in fear of, though he has tried. He has a hard time scaring away kittens, and children just kind of giggle at him. A young man, about yay high and yay big. The mid five foot range and built thinner then average, with pale skin and somewhat tired looking brown eyes that nonetheless have a sort of smile in them even when his face is straight and dour looking. Though that doesn't happen often, as his soft face is more likely to be twisted in some sort of grin. He doesn't look like a healthy young man, he isn't really to be honest, but that doesn't stop him. Shaggy and coarse black hair come from his head in a shock, which he has since given up trying to control, occasionally he can attack it with a come or brush with some degree of success but all his effort goes to waste when a nice strong gust strikes his and sends his hair flopping around into a new and interesting style. His body is frail in form, and not really suited for combat so the most he can do is run away from things. Sometimes that's even a problem, sending him doubling over and gasping for air. Despite this, he's definitely more capable then he appears. Though to be honest, it'd be hard for him to be less capable.
He doesn't like wearing the same thing all the time, but sometimes when he's out he simply can't pack several changes of clothes like he'd want. He prefers light loose fitting clothing, but most clothes fit him loosely so it does wonders for his range of options. They fit poorly, like they were hand me downs from someone much bigger then him, which many were. He can wear many things from tunics, doublets, robes, those one things that he can't quite name with like the ruffles in the front, jackets, coats, and many different kinds of pants and boots. He can't wear armor really, not that he hasn't tried. Though for simplicity's sake, lets just list an outfit that he particularly enjoys. It's a long robe, lightly purple though it begs the question how he could afford purple dye. It looks like the kind of robe a monk would wear, very plain and unimpressive, and a bit worn from use. It has dark grey trimmings, and underneath it he wears a pair of gray breeches that end where a pair of traveling boots begin. Hard leather, old and beaten up, the boots look like they've have quite a lot of travel done in them. They can't be seen though, the robe covers his whole body end right about his feet. This is usually what he decides is best for expeditions and long trips, it's light, it's breezy, and easy to move in.
Personality: Garrett is a positive sort of person. Maybe a bit strange in the head, his mother says that's from the fever from when he was a babe, but he doesn't know what she's talking about. He's a kind man with a smile more often then not, even when there's no reason to be smiling. Positive, as been's said, is a good word to describe him. Occasionally things suck, the world can be crap sometimes, but that's not reason to drown in despair. He's friendly and easy to talk with, a listener but also a real talker if you get him started. Sometimes he drifts off into strange topics and territory, or probes into things that's really none of his business which is simply a curse of his innate curiosity, but rarely does he actually mean anything by it. He's the type to get down on his self easily, when he makes a mistake or does something wrong, but he doesn't allow it to interfere with things if he can help it. He doesn't mention it aloud, but it eats at him quietly until he comes to terms with it. He's a nosy sort, but doesn't really like talking about his self all that much. He believes his personal problems should stay personal, and doesn't want to bother anyone else with his stupid little problems. Therein lies one of his problems, he's more then willing to forgive anyone and give everyone a second chance, except for himself. He drifts from time to time, sometimes saying or doing odd things for little reason.
He is a bastion of acceptance, caring little for races and such. That may be because he's never had any prolonged contact with any, and only base what he knows off of stories. Stories that, yes, occasionally paint them as no different then the monsters that roam the land. In which he replies that he doubts they're really that bad. He has yet to build preconceptions and instead is willing to assume they're the same as human just a little different, which is an easy opinion for someone who had been sheltered his whole life to have. It's the being sheltered that lends to him his great sense of curiosity. He loves traveling, exploring, meeting new people, meeting old people, seeing sites, taking in culture, it's exciting to him. Even when it gets dangerous, it's still exciting. Sometimes he gets a little too excited at danger, the thought of plundering a tomb with booby traps is met with the same giddy bravado as seeing a festival. That being said he hates combat, he hates everything about it. Though for many reasons outside of the simple 'It's not nice', he prefers to hang back and help anyone that gets hurt rather then trying to get involved in the fray of combat. Sometimes he sits it out entirely, content to heal people after it's all said and done.
Backstory: It come to no surprise that Garrett wasn't a healthy child. He wasn't an only child either, two elder brothers, an elder sister and a younger sister. Being the second youngest of five, but he was regarded with special attention his whole life. He was sick as a babe, sick as a child, sick as an adolescent and now he's sick as an adult. The difference is that now he doesn't let him not feeling well stop him from living his life. Still his entire life he was sheltered. He wasn't allowed to leave the house to play outside often, and when he did his brothers usually got in trouble because his mother would yell at them. "Why didn't you look out for your brother! He could have got hurt!" He got hurt because he couldn't stop himself from getting into trouble the rare chances he got the ability. He wanted to play in the mud, he wanted to fight with wooden swords like the other children, but was always stuck inside with a cough. His brothers despised him for it, they always getting in trouble because little Garrett wouldn't be a good boy and listen to them.
Eventually he wasn't even allowed to go outside at all, and spent all his days in bed or inside. His mother teaching him from home while his father was out on wild adventurers. He was a member of the hunter's guild, a big burly monster of a man who wielded an axe larger then the little boy who looked up to him so. Garrett loved his stories, traveling to and fro, slaying monsters and exploring the land. It's what he wanted to do more then anything else in the world. Dreams aren't always meant to be though, and this was one of them. Even as a child it was obvious he'd never be a warrior like his father. His brothers were all interested in different things, but none of them seemed to care about their father's travels and adventures like him. Cautiously his father decided that if his son wanted it, there should be nothing that should stop him. Least of all his wife or the child's weak constitution. He tried to train his son, but it was difficult. He had difficulty lifting even the wooden training axe, the leather he had his child wear hurt his body and pressed at his joints. His father didn't know, because Garrett would never complain, biting his lip as he strained his body to the max trying to wield that weapon. It all ended though, that day he collapsed. Burning with a heavy fever he was bedridden for days, all the while he could hear his parents feuding loudly outside his door. It was impossible to sleep as his mother scream at his father for being so stupid, that Garrett could have gotten seriously hurt, that he was insane to think it was a good idea. That Garrett was too weak to do anything like that.
That was when it stopped, his father never tried again and his mother never let him leave her sight again. Barely on the cusp of adolescent he though that if he couldn't fight with weapons, perhaps magic? His mother forbade it though, and his father agreed. Shaken from that event that almost lost him his son. If he couldn't use magic, perhaps a staff? It was safe, it was non-violent, and it could help people.
That was years ago. Now he has left his home, against all the cries and complaints of his mother, and decided to follow his dream. Even though he will never be able to join the hunter's guild that didn't mean he couldn't travel the world. While hunting was too dangerous, perhaps exploration was more his speed? That's why he joined the exploration guild, there were many hazards in their travels, having one capable of healing is always welcome after all. So nowadays he spends his time exploring the lands and seeing the world that he was hid away from for so long.
Age: 18
Class: Cleric
Appearance: Garrett is not a man you run away in fear of, though he has tried. He has a hard time scaring away kittens, and children just kind of giggle at him. A young man, about yay high and yay big. The mid five foot range and built thinner then average, with pale skin and somewhat tired looking brown eyes that nonetheless have a sort of smile in them even when his face is straight and dour looking. Though that doesn't happen often, as his soft face is more likely to be twisted in some sort of grin. He doesn't look like a healthy young man, he isn't really to be honest, but that doesn't stop him. Shaggy and coarse black hair come from his head in a shock, which he has since given up trying to control, occasionally he can attack it with a come or brush with some degree of success but all his effort goes to waste when a nice strong gust strikes his and sends his hair flopping around into a new and interesting style. His body is frail in form, and not really suited for combat so the most he can do is run away from things. Sometimes that's even a problem, sending him doubling over and gasping for air. Despite this, he's definitely more capable then he appears. Though to be honest, it'd be hard for him to be less capable.
He doesn't like wearing the same thing all the time, but sometimes when he's out he simply can't pack several changes of clothes like he'd want. He prefers light loose fitting clothing, but most clothes fit him loosely so it does wonders for his range of options. They fit poorly, like they were hand me downs from someone much bigger then him, which many were. He can wear many things from tunics, doublets, robes, those one things that he can't quite name with like the ruffles in the front, jackets, coats, and many different kinds of pants and boots. He can't wear armor really, not that he hasn't tried. Though for simplicity's sake, lets just list an outfit that he particularly enjoys. It's a long robe, lightly purple though it begs the question how he could afford purple dye. It looks like the kind of robe a monk would wear, very plain and unimpressive, and a bit worn from use. It has dark grey trimmings, and underneath it he wears a pair of gray breeches that end where a pair of traveling boots begin. Hard leather, old and beaten up, the boots look like they've have quite a lot of travel done in them. They can't be seen though, the robe covers his whole body end right about his feet. This is usually what he decides is best for expeditions and long trips, it's light, it's breezy, and easy to move in.
Personality: Garrett is a positive sort of person. Maybe a bit strange in the head, his mother says that's from the fever from when he was a babe, but he doesn't know what she's talking about. He's a kind man with a smile more often then not, even when there's no reason to be smiling. Positive, as been's said, is a good word to describe him. Occasionally things suck, the world can be crap sometimes, but that's not reason to drown in despair. He's friendly and easy to talk with, a listener but also a real talker if you get him started. Sometimes he drifts off into strange topics and territory, or probes into things that's really none of his business which is simply a curse of his innate curiosity, but rarely does he actually mean anything by it. He's the type to get down on his self easily, when he makes a mistake or does something wrong, but he doesn't allow it to interfere with things if he can help it. He doesn't mention it aloud, but it eats at him quietly until he comes to terms with it. He's a nosy sort, but doesn't really like talking about his self all that much. He believes his personal problems should stay personal, and doesn't want to bother anyone else with his stupid little problems. Therein lies one of his problems, he's more then willing to forgive anyone and give everyone a second chance, except for himself. He drifts from time to time, sometimes saying or doing odd things for little reason.
He is a bastion of acceptance, caring little for races and such. That may be because he's never had any prolonged contact with any, and only base what he knows off of stories. Stories that, yes, occasionally paint them as no different then the monsters that roam the land. In which he replies that he doubts they're really that bad. He has yet to build preconceptions and instead is willing to assume they're the same as human just a little different, which is an easy opinion for someone who had been sheltered his whole life to have. It's the being sheltered that lends to him his great sense of curiosity. He loves traveling, exploring, meeting new people, meeting old people, seeing sites, taking in culture, it's exciting to him. Even when it gets dangerous, it's still exciting. Sometimes he gets a little too excited at danger, the thought of plundering a tomb with booby traps is met with the same giddy bravado as seeing a festival. That being said he hates combat, he hates everything about it. Though for many reasons outside of the simple 'It's not nice', he prefers to hang back and help anyone that gets hurt rather then trying to get involved in the fray of combat. Sometimes he sits it out entirely, content to heal people after it's all said and done.
Backstory: It come to no surprise that Garrett wasn't a healthy child. He wasn't an only child either, two elder brothers, an elder sister and a younger sister. Being the second youngest of five, but he was regarded with special attention his whole life. He was sick as a babe, sick as a child, sick as an adolescent and now he's sick as an adult. The difference is that now he doesn't let him not feeling well stop him from living his life. Still his entire life he was sheltered. He wasn't allowed to leave the house to play outside often, and when he did his brothers usually got in trouble because his mother would yell at them. "Why didn't you look out for your brother! He could have got hurt!" He got hurt because he couldn't stop himself from getting into trouble the rare chances he got the ability. He wanted to play in the mud, he wanted to fight with wooden swords like the other children, but was always stuck inside with a cough. His brothers despised him for it, they always getting in trouble because little Garrett wouldn't be a good boy and listen to them.
Eventually he wasn't even allowed to go outside at all, and spent all his days in bed or inside. His mother teaching him from home while his father was out on wild adventurers. He was a member of the hunter's guild, a big burly monster of a man who wielded an axe larger then the little boy who looked up to him so. Garrett loved his stories, traveling to and fro, slaying monsters and exploring the land. It's what he wanted to do more then anything else in the world. Dreams aren't always meant to be though, and this was one of them. Even as a child it was obvious he'd never be a warrior like his father. His brothers were all interested in different things, but none of them seemed to care about their father's travels and adventures like him. Cautiously his father decided that if his son wanted it, there should be nothing that should stop him. Least of all his wife or the child's weak constitution. He tried to train his son, but it was difficult. He had difficulty lifting even the wooden training axe, the leather he had his child wear hurt his body and pressed at his joints. His father didn't know, because Garrett would never complain, biting his lip as he strained his body to the max trying to wield that weapon. It all ended though, that day he collapsed. Burning with a heavy fever he was bedridden for days, all the while he could hear his parents feuding loudly outside his door. It was impossible to sleep as his mother scream at his father for being so stupid, that Garrett could have gotten seriously hurt, that he was insane to think it was a good idea. That Garrett was too weak to do anything like that.
That was when it stopped, his father never tried again and his mother never let him leave her sight again. Barely on the cusp of adolescent he though that if he couldn't fight with weapons, perhaps magic? His mother forbade it though, and his father agreed. Shaken from that event that almost lost him his son. If he couldn't use magic, perhaps a staff? It was safe, it was non-violent, and it could help people.
That was years ago. Now he has left his home, against all the cries and complaints of his mother, and decided to follow his dream. Even though he will never be able to join the hunter's guild that didn't mean he couldn't travel the world. While hunting was too dangerous, perhaps exploration was more his speed? That's why he joined the exploration guild, there were many hazards in their travels, having one capable of healing is always welcome after all. So nowadays he spends his time exploring the lands and seeing the world that he was hid away from for so long.
