Post by Alakuu on Oct 5, 2015 22:35:45 GMT
Name : Ernon Darduk
Race : Tiefling
Size: 5'1"
Build: Thin but toned 132lbs
Skin color: Dull dark copper
Hair : dark blue
Eyes: speckled red (solid, no pupil)
Horns : black with white spider webbing, curl back to head ending pointing up
Background (hermit)
Background story:
Born in some unknown part of the world. Abandoned in the woods and found by a small village family on the borders of Khaz Durril. Raised in near isolation till a horrible night of storms destroy the little farm and kill Ernon's foster family. At the age of 8 he set out after burying his family. Wondered from kingdom from kingdom trying to find solid work and a place that wasn't harsh of his characteristics Ernon was "duped" into taking voyage across the seas to Astoria.
During the voyage his ship was lost to rogue waves. (Weather never seemed to like Ernon and he vowed boats should never be a thing again.)
Surviving with a few other passengers he managed to make a few friends. Those friends managed to find him work. Work where things for Ernon would change in ways he would never have foreseen.
Kroket and Gurtog being the two key people he saved managed to connect him to a job at Bridgeguard Fortress, located in Cannich. Though no crazy fancy work the work seemed reasonable. Something about removing old unknown and unappreciated stonework felt almost humbling in that he at least treated it with more respect than anyone else would treat him.
But sadly Ernon's luck never seems to change. Whether it had been a curse from the old stonemasons or something more sinister, or even just something tied to those odd drawings and that oddly crafted sigil, Ernon knew something bad had fallen upon his soul. Nightmares seemed to follow him every night.
But the one dream, wouldn't leave him. It started slow. Each night being a small piece to this puzzle.
At first he just saw shadows. The next night there was a face. Something truly erry about it. And the darkness so black yet there was that itching in your brain, like the primal side of you knew there was something truly wrong in that black, something that we all knew but had forgotten. And then the grin.
Ernon was no stranger to the many races of Astoria. Nor those that dwell within Vardun. So he knew what dragonborn looked like. But this grin, it had to be something worse, something stronger. One would normally shrug it off as just one of the pushy dragonborn guards at the fortress that somehow stuck in his head. But no, there was something much more real about that grin that final night.
On that final night, after all was removed. The last night he would stay at Bridgeguard fortress' workers quarters he woke, felt like he himself was on fire, stricken with confusion and the sheer pain lead to the rush of adrenaline but then in the darkness of the bunkhouse fire. Right from under his bed. Ernon shouted and his fellow bunk men woke quickly enough, they threw his bed to the side to try and put the fire out, it was in the shape of Ernon burnt into the ground, embers glowing. The bunk members immediately started shouting curses, and attacked him throwing him out. As Ernon hit the rough cobble ground the bunkhouse lit on fire, screams heard from the inside Ernon ran. Ran as fast as he could. Night slowly became morning when Ernon finally stopped running, somewhere on the outskirts of town. All he had left to him was his small rucksack and the cloths on his back. Well that and the demonic heritage that will always follow him with glaring eyes.
While staying "low" Ernon soon found he somehow had some control of magic. Much like he had seen while "cutting work" around. Though clearly not in the same manner as the mages he had seen practice. He did have some natural power.
Though much like that nightmare he didn't know where it came from, and seemed unable to rid himself of it.
Perhaps it has something to do with the oddly shaped charm he kept from the deconstructed artwork at Bridgeguard fortress. Perhaps not. Either way Ernon felt it was one of the few things that didn't seem to be out to harm him.
While the city watch doesn't seem to have a bounty on his head Ernon has run into a few of the workers from Bridgeguard and they clearly seemed afraid of him. To the point Ernon now distances himself from any relations he might know for fear of being capture for the fire at the bunkhouse.
Race : Tiefling
Size: 5'1"
Build: Thin but toned 132lbs
Skin color: Dull dark copper
Hair : dark blue
Eyes: speckled red (solid, no pupil)
Horns : black with white spider webbing, curl back to head ending pointing up
Background (hermit)
Background story:
Born in some unknown part of the world. Abandoned in the woods and found by a small village family on the borders of Khaz Durril. Raised in near isolation till a horrible night of storms destroy the little farm and kill Ernon's foster family. At the age of 8 he set out after burying his family. Wondered from kingdom from kingdom trying to find solid work and a place that wasn't harsh of his characteristics Ernon was "duped" into taking voyage across the seas to Astoria.
During the voyage his ship was lost to rogue waves. (Weather never seemed to like Ernon and he vowed boats should never be a thing again.)
Surviving with a few other passengers he managed to make a few friends. Those friends managed to find him work. Work where things for Ernon would change in ways he would never have foreseen.
Kroket and Gurtog being the two key people he saved managed to connect him to a job at Bridgeguard Fortress, located in Cannich. Though no crazy fancy work the work seemed reasonable. Something about removing old unknown and unappreciated stonework felt almost humbling in that he at least treated it with more respect than anyone else would treat him.
But sadly Ernon's luck never seems to change. Whether it had been a curse from the old stonemasons or something more sinister, or even just something tied to those odd drawings and that oddly crafted sigil, Ernon knew something bad had fallen upon his soul. Nightmares seemed to follow him every night.
But the one dream, wouldn't leave him. It started slow. Each night being a small piece to this puzzle.
At first he just saw shadows. The next night there was a face. Something truly erry about it. And the darkness so black yet there was that itching in your brain, like the primal side of you knew there was something truly wrong in that black, something that we all knew but had forgotten. And then the grin.
Ernon was no stranger to the many races of Astoria. Nor those that dwell within Vardun. So he knew what dragonborn looked like. But this grin, it had to be something worse, something stronger. One would normally shrug it off as just one of the pushy dragonborn guards at the fortress that somehow stuck in his head. But no, there was something much more real about that grin that final night.
On that final night, after all was removed. The last night he would stay at Bridgeguard fortress' workers quarters he woke, felt like he himself was on fire, stricken with confusion and the sheer pain lead to the rush of adrenaline but then in the darkness of the bunkhouse fire. Right from under his bed. Ernon shouted and his fellow bunk men woke quickly enough, they threw his bed to the side to try and put the fire out, it was in the shape of Ernon burnt into the ground, embers glowing. The bunk members immediately started shouting curses, and attacked him throwing him out. As Ernon hit the rough cobble ground the bunkhouse lit on fire, screams heard from the inside Ernon ran. Ran as fast as he could. Night slowly became morning when Ernon finally stopped running, somewhere on the outskirts of town. All he had left to him was his small rucksack and the cloths on his back. Well that and the demonic heritage that will always follow him with glaring eyes.
While staying "low" Ernon soon found he somehow had some control of magic. Much like he had seen while "cutting work" around. Though clearly not in the same manner as the mages he had seen practice. He did have some natural power.
Though much like that nightmare he didn't know where it came from, and seemed unable to rid himself of it.
Perhaps it has something to do with the oddly shaped charm he kept from the deconstructed artwork at Bridgeguard fortress. Perhaps not. Either way Ernon felt it was one of the few things that didn't seem to be out to harm him.
While the city watch doesn't seem to have a bounty on his head Ernon has run into a few of the workers from Bridgeguard and they clearly seemed afraid of him. To the point Ernon now distances himself from any relations he might know for fear of being capture for the fire at the bunkhouse.