Anarawad Gaelish
Posted: Sat Nov 12, 2011 3:26 am
Name: Anarawad Gaelish
Age: 19
Race: Human
Height: 5'6" (About 167.5 cm)
Weight: 143 lbs. (About 65 kg)
Physical description: Anarawad is very frail looking, almost too short and thin to be a man. Adding to the usual confusion from behind is his long, wavy auburn hair. He tends to wear a long cloak of faded dark blue to conceal his gun, malformed left hand, and blackened worn leather armor. Under his armor, he wears elegant shirts and pants in case the occasion to be formal arises. Tough boots fit for a traveller always adorn his feet, formal circumstances or not.
Possessions: Anarawad carries with him a mysterious gnomish long gun which is fastened to the underarm portion of his armor via a strong cord tied to the stock of the gun. At his waist, he brandishes a sheathed short sword. He owns a small pocket which he wears securely around the neck. A bag carries silverware and plates as well as a knife for cleaning any game he might strike down. Several small jars contain herbs known to heal lacerations. In the bag, a false bottom may be removed to reveal a book or two on anatomy and magical healing.
Strengths:
Sublime Aim- Anarawad is an excellent shot with the strange gnomish gun he carries. Perhaps it is the technology of the gun or a plain knack for wielding it, he can hit a small bird at 50 m. That is, when it fires.
Healer- He has an innate ability, not understood by himself, to magically heal torn tissue. While he has attempted other magical healings, he notes that he can only heal penetrations of the flesh. The healing of diseases and other known ailments escapes his abilities.
Charisma- Anarawad is an excellent wordsmith and skilled in talking his way out of sticky situations. Merchants tend to be swayed by him, albeit only a little.
Resourceful- It seems like a series of flukes to most, but he seems to be able to pull himself out of hard times. Be it financial, circumstantial, or combat conflicts, he luckily escapes alive with witty solutions that seem childish or ignorant.
Deep- He interprets the events of the world and his life constantly, making sense of it by making strong theories and metaphors. This tends to interest those around him and sometimes makes amends for his otherwise unflattering traits.
Weaknesses:
Deformation- Due to a birth defect, his left arm is sickly-looking and does not have full range of motion. He can not reach above his head or bend his elbow and wrist in the usual ways. However, the most important thing in his mind is that he can still steady the gun.
Boorish- Seeming to be a bit of a womanizer, he makes crude comments and performs unwanted gestures of affection toward women. Men are also not safe, as he is witty and observant. He tends to turn these two attributes into intricate insults.
Self-insufficient- While he posses an innate ability to heal, he has learned that his ability does not apply to his own body.
Gnomish reliance- Anarawad is a great shot, this is true. However, as is the case with gnome technology in the hands of a human, his gun rarely actually fires when he wants it to. Since his skill with aim is the only combat-friendly skill he possesses, he usually finds himself at a disadvantage in a fight.
Inconsistent personality- He is crude and blunt in one instant, but deep and sympathetic in the next. This trait leads to confusion in those around him and can scare off even the most strong-willed.
History:
Born in Eyropa in the island area known as Pretana, Anarawad Gaelish grew up relatively well-off. His father was well respected in the learned community and owned a prestigious book store. His mother had died giving birth to him and his father never spoke of her often.
Growing up with a birth defect, he soon learned how to use his wit and intelligence against other children. While he has never been strong or greatly blessed with friends, his hunger for learning and experimentation took over and got him through many upsetting instances in his life.
At age 5, he was able to read and write. Absorbing as much knowledge as he could about the physical plane, he took a pragmatic approach. When told that gunpowder was extremely flammable, he set a small bit on fire just to be sure. When he read that dwarves despised magic, he pretended to cast spells on dwarven children to watch how they reacted(which earned him more than a few beatings). So this was his life, the constant search for knowledge and the impulse to test it. The folk in his town began to suspect that he was mentally ill.
When he was 7, he noticed that many of the patrons of his father's bookstore were elves. He also noted that his father often took them downstairs after some hushed words. Curious, he tried to squeeze his way into the basement of the store to see what his father and the elves were doing. However, the small basement windows were darkened and well secured. He attempted to sneak in behind his father, but was caught every time. Finally, when he was almost 8, his father motioned for him to follow after the shop was locked up for the night. Below was an incredible selection of ancient-looking scrolls and tomes. His father told little Anarawad a secret, he sold illegal magical texts to elven scholars. Soon after, Anarawad stole a book from the basement hurriedly in fear of getting caught. Later on, in private, he began reading the stolen book on ancient magical healing. However much he tried on animals and trees, he could not make the spells work.
At age ten, a new family moved into town and brought with them a girl. This girl was instantly attracted by the recluse bookstore boy despite his sharp tongue and crude behavior. Anarawad fell in love with her. The half-elf girl, named Aileen, was a free spirit and cheerily skipped around in a state of happiness despite whatever horrible thing had happened. This intrigued the young overly logical boy to the point of infatuation. He began writing poems about her and her attitude. He even started a study on her ability to shrug off the burdens of the world and remain joyous. One day, while the couple were walking along the plains a small flight from town, Aileen slipped from a tree the two were climbing. She fell on a branch that had been struck by a lightning storm some weeks before and was impaled through the stomach. Panicked, Anarawad tapped into something he had never known possible and pulled the branch out of her with pure adrenaline. He held the half-elf girl and unwittingly stopped the bleeding magically. Amazed, he pressed further into the feeling he received while doing it and started the preliminary healing work. He tried a spell that he had learned of in his stolen book to curb infection. However, Aileen died in his arms. Later, he learned that a faced-paced infectious disease begotten from the fateful branch had taken hold of her and killed her.
Years of solace and seclusion gripped Anarawad. His father, concerned, gave him something which had been bartered at the store for an old tome; Anarawad was brought out of his depression after six years in awe of a gnomish firearm. His first trials with the artifact were full of frustration, the gun wouldn't even fire and holding it with the support of his disfigured arm was a challenge. He took it to the only gnome in his local town and asked if it could be repaired. The old gnome laughed hysterically and said, "The gun doesn't need fixed as much as the man behind it!" In exchange for some tasks such as help around the gnome's workspace, the old gnome taught him that the gun had an essence that Anarawad as a human could never understand. However, if the time was right to shoot, the gun would fire.
With this thought in mind, Anarawad spent hours pulling the hammer back and squeezing the trigger. He found a way to hold it so that it was more comfortable for him. Instead of the supporting hand resting the normal way, he bent his left hand back and rested the gun with his thumb on the opposite side as his arm. It was a strange pose, but he found it less shaky. After failure after failure, he realized he needed a target! A potato made a perfect victim for the shot, and he kept pulling the trigger. Days of hours filled with no fires, the gun finally went off. While knocking the 16 year old human to the ground, the weapon had fired spot on. The potato was no more. As he learned to focus and persevere, the gun went off more and more. The more Anarawad believed it would, the more it did. Soon, he tried hunting. When aiming at a moving target, it seemed to him as if everything in the world, including himself, slowed down. Several failed attempts and an occasional misfire eventually lead to the killing of his first hare.
Meanwhile, his father had fallen terribly ill in a year. Anarawad found his father one morning unable to move from his bed. As he sat there watching his father die, his father told a story.
"I didn't always live here. I lived in a place called Marn once, where a man had to really work to make it by. Magic wasn't allowed by the general population. Many times I found myself on the ropes being question by the guards because of the allegations that I sold illegal books. Of course, I did, as I do now even in this less oppressive place. I have always believed that books should be free for anyone to read. Your mother was from there, a lady of the brothels she was. She used to say, 'Kynon, on day you are going to get caught and the guards will strike you down, or send you to the judges and you'll never be seen again. Your child needs you. You need to get away from here.' So, I did, taking her with me. The struggle of the journey stressed the pregnancy. When we found this place, she went into labor, and you were born. However, she died to bring you into this world. I've always wondered if you were sent to give me something to live for when she was gone..."
He went on about the city of Marn, and the many people he had known there. Anarawad could only think of the name Kynon. It was the first time he had heard his father's name, he realized, and vowed then that he would learn the names of everyone he came across.
Kynon passed away in the night during his sleep. The next two years, Anarawad planned his trip, bought a short sword and some supplies from the proceeds of his father's estate, and thought of every possibility that could get him in trouble in the unknown land. Being as tiny and weak as he was, it was obvious he would run into trouble with vagabonds and the criminal like. Having a gnomish gun in plain sight would give them the advantage of planning for it. Instead, he decided to fasten it while traveling to the underarm of his armor, using a slip knot he had learned from the many shipmen that came to his father to scribe charters. It would be easily removed in a hurry. However, loading the gun would pose a problem, as it wasn't particularly a fast job to measure out gun powder and tamp the powder, but Anarawad was a smart man. Using a paper cartridge, he could measure out the portions of powder ahead of time. He searched his homeland and found the materials to create a plate that could be flipped up to protect from the random misfires. He fashioned a new sight on top of the plate so he would keep accurate. Things were coming together. However, there was no way to quickly tamp the ball and powder down as quickly as the rest. If there was a surprise attack, he would have to resort to his shoddy swordsmanship.
However of a long shot it seemed, he would succeed. He would survive as his father did. He would struggle and become the strong and smart man that his father had been. Anarawand would be the new Kynon. He would prove to himself that he wasn't a recluse strange screw-up. He was a man.
Age: 19
Race: Human
Height: 5'6" (About 167.5 cm)
Weight: 143 lbs. (About 65 kg)
Physical description: Anarawad is very frail looking, almost too short and thin to be a man. Adding to the usual confusion from behind is his long, wavy auburn hair. He tends to wear a long cloak of faded dark blue to conceal his gun, malformed left hand, and blackened worn leather armor. Under his armor, he wears elegant shirts and pants in case the occasion to be formal arises. Tough boots fit for a traveller always adorn his feet, formal circumstances or not.
Possessions: Anarawad carries with him a mysterious gnomish long gun which is fastened to the underarm portion of his armor via a strong cord tied to the stock of the gun. At his waist, he brandishes a sheathed short sword. He owns a small pocket which he wears securely around the neck. A bag carries silverware and plates as well as a knife for cleaning any game he might strike down. Several small jars contain herbs known to heal lacerations. In the bag, a false bottom may be removed to reveal a book or two on anatomy and magical healing.
Strengths:
Sublime Aim- Anarawad is an excellent shot with the strange gnomish gun he carries. Perhaps it is the technology of the gun or a plain knack for wielding it, he can hit a small bird at 50 m. That is, when it fires.
Healer- He has an innate ability, not understood by himself, to magically heal torn tissue. While he has attempted other magical healings, he notes that he can only heal penetrations of the flesh. The healing of diseases and other known ailments escapes his abilities.
Charisma- Anarawad is an excellent wordsmith and skilled in talking his way out of sticky situations. Merchants tend to be swayed by him, albeit only a little.
Resourceful- It seems like a series of flukes to most, but he seems to be able to pull himself out of hard times. Be it financial, circumstantial, or combat conflicts, he luckily escapes alive with witty solutions that seem childish or ignorant.
Deep- He interprets the events of the world and his life constantly, making sense of it by making strong theories and metaphors. This tends to interest those around him and sometimes makes amends for his otherwise unflattering traits.
Weaknesses:
Deformation- Due to a birth defect, his left arm is sickly-looking and does not have full range of motion. He can not reach above his head or bend his elbow and wrist in the usual ways. However, the most important thing in his mind is that he can still steady the gun.
Boorish- Seeming to be a bit of a womanizer, he makes crude comments and performs unwanted gestures of affection toward women. Men are also not safe, as he is witty and observant. He tends to turn these two attributes into intricate insults.
Self-insufficient- While he posses an innate ability to heal, he has learned that his ability does not apply to his own body.
Gnomish reliance- Anarawad is a great shot, this is true. However, as is the case with gnome technology in the hands of a human, his gun rarely actually fires when he wants it to. Since his skill with aim is the only combat-friendly skill he possesses, he usually finds himself at a disadvantage in a fight.
Inconsistent personality- He is crude and blunt in one instant, but deep and sympathetic in the next. This trait leads to confusion in those around him and can scare off even the most strong-willed.
History:
Born in Eyropa in the island area known as Pretana, Anarawad Gaelish grew up relatively well-off. His father was well respected in the learned community and owned a prestigious book store. His mother had died giving birth to him and his father never spoke of her often.
Growing up with a birth defect, he soon learned how to use his wit and intelligence against other children. While he has never been strong or greatly blessed with friends, his hunger for learning and experimentation took over and got him through many upsetting instances in his life.
At age 5, he was able to read and write. Absorbing as much knowledge as he could about the physical plane, he took a pragmatic approach. When told that gunpowder was extremely flammable, he set a small bit on fire just to be sure. When he read that dwarves despised magic, he pretended to cast spells on dwarven children to watch how they reacted(which earned him more than a few beatings). So this was his life, the constant search for knowledge and the impulse to test it. The folk in his town began to suspect that he was mentally ill.
When he was 7, he noticed that many of the patrons of his father's bookstore were elves. He also noted that his father often took them downstairs after some hushed words. Curious, he tried to squeeze his way into the basement of the store to see what his father and the elves were doing. However, the small basement windows were darkened and well secured. He attempted to sneak in behind his father, but was caught every time. Finally, when he was almost 8, his father motioned for him to follow after the shop was locked up for the night. Below was an incredible selection of ancient-looking scrolls and tomes. His father told little Anarawad a secret, he sold illegal magical texts to elven scholars. Soon after, Anarawad stole a book from the basement hurriedly in fear of getting caught. Later on, in private, he began reading the stolen book on ancient magical healing. However much he tried on animals and trees, he could not make the spells work.
At age ten, a new family moved into town and brought with them a girl. This girl was instantly attracted by the recluse bookstore boy despite his sharp tongue and crude behavior. Anarawad fell in love with her. The half-elf girl, named Aileen, was a free spirit and cheerily skipped around in a state of happiness despite whatever horrible thing had happened. This intrigued the young overly logical boy to the point of infatuation. He began writing poems about her and her attitude. He even started a study on her ability to shrug off the burdens of the world and remain joyous. One day, while the couple were walking along the plains a small flight from town, Aileen slipped from a tree the two were climbing. She fell on a branch that had been struck by a lightning storm some weeks before and was impaled through the stomach. Panicked, Anarawad tapped into something he had never known possible and pulled the branch out of her with pure adrenaline. He held the half-elf girl and unwittingly stopped the bleeding magically. Amazed, he pressed further into the feeling he received while doing it and started the preliminary healing work. He tried a spell that he had learned of in his stolen book to curb infection. However, Aileen died in his arms. Later, he learned that a faced-paced infectious disease begotten from the fateful branch had taken hold of her and killed her.
Years of solace and seclusion gripped Anarawad. His father, concerned, gave him something which had been bartered at the store for an old tome; Anarawad was brought out of his depression after six years in awe of a gnomish firearm. His first trials with the artifact were full of frustration, the gun wouldn't even fire and holding it with the support of his disfigured arm was a challenge. He took it to the only gnome in his local town and asked if it could be repaired. The old gnome laughed hysterically and said, "The gun doesn't need fixed as much as the man behind it!" In exchange for some tasks such as help around the gnome's workspace, the old gnome taught him that the gun had an essence that Anarawad as a human could never understand. However, if the time was right to shoot, the gun would fire.
With this thought in mind, Anarawad spent hours pulling the hammer back and squeezing the trigger. He found a way to hold it so that it was more comfortable for him. Instead of the supporting hand resting the normal way, he bent his left hand back and rested the gun with his thumb on the opposite side as his arm. It was a strange pose, but he found it less shaky. After failure after failure, he realized he needed a target! A potato made a perfect victim for the shot, and he kept pulling the trigger. Days of hours filled with no fires, the gun finally went off. While knocking the 16 year old human to the ground, the weapon had fired spot on. The potato was no more. As he learned to focus and persevere, the gun went off more and more. The more Anarawad believed it would, the more it did. Soon, he tried hunting. When aiming at a moving target, it seemed to him as if everything in the world, including himself, slowed down. Several failed attempts and an occasional misfire eventually lead to the killing of his first hare.
Meanwhile, his father had fallen terribly ill in a year. Anarawad found his father one morning unable to move from his bed. As he sat there watching his father die, his father told a story.
"I didn't always live here. I lived in a place called Marn once, where a man had to really work to make it by. Magic wasn't allowed by the general population. Many times I found myself on the ropes being question by the guards because of the allegations that I sold illegal books. Of course, I did, as I do now even in this less oppressive place. I have always believed that books should be free for anyone to read. Your mother was from there, a lady of the brothels she was. She used to say, 'Kynon, on day you are going to get caught and the guards will strike you down, or send you to the judges and you'll never be seen again. Your child needs you. You need to get away from here.' So, I did, taking her with me. The struggle of the journey stressed the pregnancy. When we found this place, she went into labor, and you were born. However, she died to bring you into this world. I've always wondered if you were sent to give me something to live for when she was gone..."
He went on about the city of Marn, and the many people he had known there. Anarawad could only think of the name Kynon. It was the first time he had heard his father's name, he realized, and vowed then that he would learn the names of everyone he came across.
Kynon passed away in the night during his sleep. The next two years, Anarawad planned his trip, bought a short sword and some supplies from the proceeds of his father's estate, and thought of every possibility that could get him in trouble in the unknown land. Being as tiny and weak as he was, it was obvious he would run into trouble with vagabonds and the criminal like. Having a gnomish gun in plain sight would give them the advantage of planning for it. Instead, he decided to fasten it while traveling to the underarm of his armor, using a slip knot he had learned from the many shipmen that came to his father to scribe charters. It would be easily removed in a hurry. However, loading the gun would pose a problem, as it wasn't particularly a fast job to measure out gun powder and tamp the powder, but Anarawad was a smart man. Using a paper cartridge, he could measure out the portions of powder ahead of time. He searched his homeland and found the materials to create a plate that could be flipped up to protect from the random misfires. He fashioned a new sight on top of the plate so he would keep accurate. Things were coming together. However, there was no way to quickly tamp the ball and powder down as quickly as the rest. If there was a surprise attack, he would have to resort to his shoddy swordsmanship.
However of a long shot it seemed, he would succeed. He would survive as his father did. He would struggle and become the strong and smart man that his father had been. Anarawand would be the new Kynon. He would prove to himself that he wasn't a recluse strange screw-up. He was a man.