Amlon
Posted: Tue Jul 10, 2012 11:28 pm
Name: Amlon
Age: 26
Race: Human/Elf
Height: 6' 1''
Weight: 159 lbs
Appearance:
He has black black hair, cut short, about the length of ones pinkie. Tan skin, evident of much outside exposure. Amlon is strong, not overly strong, but noticeably stronger than your average man. His face is well defined, most notably his nose.
He wears brown shades of clothing, not out of choice, though given the choice he would choose the color anyway. Normally Amlon wears a cloth tunic that halfway to his knees, under that cloth pants that extend loosely to about six inches above his ankle. Both of these are over lapped at his waist by a leather belt which holds the pants up and the tunic down. Sandals lace up a little past his ankles.
Possessions:
Armour: Leather -Cuirass (Breastplate) -Grieves (Lower leg protection) -Bracers (Forearm protection) -Light Helm (Head protection)
Weapons:
-Two throwing axes, with a small hammer on one side, wedge shaped blade on other. 18 inches tall in total.
-A club of sorts, native to his homeland. Made entirely mostly of metal, save for a leather grip on a wood handle, this weapon is twenty four inches tall total. The main part of the weapon, (the part you smack people with) Is actually a cylinder, about an inch in diameter, which is attached to a wooden guard that is a section of the handle, the handle itself being six inches long. The overall look is a long dagger that has a thicker handle and a blade replaced with a metal bar.
Stuff:
-External Frame pack, flint and steel, small knife, wooden bowl/spoon, wool blanket, money pouch, lots of rope, an ax for tree-felling and chopping wood, a journal he never lets anyone read.
Powers/Strengths:
Amlon has good aim with his throwing axes, hitting targets fifty feet away seven out of ten times, with rapid improvement in statistics the closer you get, so basically anything within twenty feet that is larger than a rabbit is an easy shot for Amlon.
He also is a competent melee fighter with the throwing axes, despite their intended use.
Amlon semi-consciously numbs himself against pain, while retaining feeling. He still knows the pain is there, and even how bad, it just doesn't have any mental impact on him. If he touches someone, he can temporarily numb the body part he touched. However it isn't numbed in the manner that he experiences. It loses feeling for a full minute, and even basic motor control is impossible until the numbness starts to fade.
Amlon can temporarily lessen or increase his weight, or gravity. Literally going from ten pounds to four hundred. This lasts only about thirty seconds at a time. Though he can use it multiple times in a thread supposing there is a sufficient pause between uses.
Weaknesses:
Unfortunately, Amlon is terrible at the more nimble moves others might make, both in combat and in the normal world. Things like rolling back quickly, climbing cliffs (or anything other than a ladder/rope/steps for that matter), dodging, back flips, basically anything acrobatic at all is beyond him. Not for lack of trying however.
Stealth doesn't come to him naturally either. If he is trying to sneak around, likely he will be the guy that gets caught in the drapes, steps on that stick, or falls out of the closet. Don't take him on reconnaissance missions.
While Amlon is very good with his throwing axes, if you startle him somehow or he is mentally incapacitated in one way or another (drunk, drugged, just woke up, overcome with emotion, etc.) there is a good chance of him missing the target.
Lessening his gravity makes him slightly dizzy, and heightening it gives him headaches. Either one of these causes him trouble, missing a target that is coming at him, or slamming his head against a wall to get rid of the migraine that could come during repeated gravity raising. (Note that these effects last only for the duration of gravity change, and a moment after it. Though the headaches/dizziness will build and last longer the more he does it.)
Overall, Amlon is slightly gullible, though not trusting. You could trick him temporarily, but not to far before his better judgment gets to him. One of those people that follow a cut-throat into a dark alley, and then realizes his mistake. Not all the time, though it happens.
Personality:
Amlon's personality appears shallow and base on the outside. A first impression you might get is a slow, dimwitted typical warrior. But he truly is very thoughtful, though he hates puzzles. Amlon accepts most people quickly for who they are. Though he is more on the peoples side, as complex logic doesn't confuse him as much as bother him, after all there has to be a simpler solution to everything right? In his mind justice should be simple and swift. Not drawn out and oddly shaped like a trolls face. He always acts on his instincts, and if he judges that something unsavory has to be done, well he does it. A direct approach is best.
History:
Amlon is descended from the Olmec, his particular branch of that group coming from a family that weathered the oceans in a boat made of wood and large amounts of rubber. The rubber being the only reason the storm tossed water didn't rip the boat to shreds. This was centuries ago, and the families line is intermingled with many, but their tradition stayed with several small groups.
After the disasters caused in the Olmec nation, centuries later magic is taboo among the village where Amlon grew, those who used it were cast out. Weapons, such as swords an the like were more... Primitive, than normal. Throwing spears and axes, improved clubs, were much more common that bows and swords.
Where he grew up was in central Eyropa, where the mountains and forest meet. The village was a simple one. Farmed for food, log cabin homes, as woods was abundant. Trade was slow, they only received visits from a trader once a year. Likely do to how isolated they were, as well as how the small village didn't use money as much as a barter system. Life was average here for Amlon, he grew up with a father who was a woodcutter, simply chopping trees and gathering herbs occasionally for the town healers use. The cut trees had several uses, house building, cook fires, wood carving, boat building... the list goes on. Amlon joined his father when he was eleven, at which time he was strong enough to be taught in the craft, if just barely. Two younger brothers were a bit indignant, a younger sister didn't care. But Amlon had the time of his life. His father was always careful to keep him safe, and by the time he was sixteen, he could do much of the work himself. In the early morning they had time to hunt small game, something that Amlon excelled at with a throwing ax.
Amlon smiled at his fathers question, “Of course I can hit that, its not that far.” He stood beside Elmit, staring up at a group of wild turkey that are sitting at the top of a stony rise. He stepped away from his father, took one of his throwing axes and closed his eyes, a deep breath entered his lungs and the image of everything around him was vivid in his memory, a deep forest of evergreens, stopping suddenly where a waterfall cascades down from a sharp cliff. The water would be cold as it came from the mountains, and just down and to the right of it was a ledge that sloped a bit up to the top. On the ledge were the turkey. In a flash his eyes opened as his hand performed the throw, adjusting only a little as his hand moved. The ax flew, revolving only once in the air as it struck and threw one of the turkeys farther back on the ledge. Elmit, his father, turned towards him. A small smile on his face, Amlon didn't get the joke, and smiled back. “So, how do you think you are going to get that back down?” The smile slid off his own face. “Well, I suppose I didn't consider that...” His voice faded off as he looked the sheer cliff up and down. And then back at his father who was smiling widely now.
“You know, one of the greatest joys of being a father, is being there to watch your sons and daughters learn the same lessons that you did.”
Amlon sighed, and quickly walked over to the cliff. A glance over his shoulder at his father, and he turned back. With a sigh he began attempting to climb. After about eight minutes his father came to the rescue. “Why don't you put your foot right here, this ledge is only knee high, but is like a stepping stone up to more foot and hand holds. You will never get up there by trying to pull yourself up with your hands. One step at a time boy.” Amlon's cheeks turned slightly red from embarrassment and he moved to where his father had indicated. Slowly, he moved upward with more than a little urging from his father. Finally when he was a good thirteen feet in the air he had reached the ledge, grabbing the edge with his arms and pulling himself over scrabbling his legs against the rock below to get that final boost. Amlon rolled onto his back onto the ledge, breathing heavily as he watched the last of the live turkey flee- flapping farther down the cliff awkwardly and then into the forest. He sat up and grabbed the handle of his throwing ax, the actual blade embedded in the breast of the turkey, he pulled it out, wiping the blade on a cloth and standing with the dead fowl in one hand and the ax in the other, which he raised above his head, smiling triumphantly to his father. You could probably guess, that being himself Amlon took a step forward to begin the descent... and tripped over the edge.
The impact took his breath away, and Amlon quickly stood up, only to stumble slightly due to a wave of disorientation that went through him, and faded off. His father rushed over to him, and they both looked back to the ledge, and Elmit ran his hands over Amlon's ribs, back, and neck amazed to find him unarmed, if slightly scraped. Thirteen feet could be safely jumped, true. But that was if one was ready and prepared. He had fallen and landed on his back. Their eyes locked, and both their minds were thinking the same thing, Magic. His father broke contact, a little to quickly. And they retrieved the throwing ax and dead turkey from where they had been flung when Amlon had tripped. They walked back to the cabin in silence. Just before entering the cabin Elmit grabbed Amlon by the lower arm and put his fingers to his lips. They would never speak of this.
This incident was singular it seemed, and after a month Amlon and his father had passed it off as good luck. Life was good, and they were able to move into the small village. Where Amlon unfortunately found some enemies. They were just other boys that didn't like him though, nothing of consequence. Things escalated though, and one day they jumped him, there was an accident. Specifically, a large log hit Amlon full in the chest and he didn't seem to be affected by it, other than taking a step back. Another boy was crushed by a few logs. Amlon himself suffered broken ribs and a momentary headache. Rumors soon started when he didn't show any pain during the setting of the ribs, or anytime during it. It was a small town, and it was soon the only thing people had to talk about with no real outside communication with the world. He slowly gained a knowledge of his strange abilities, until he had some control. It wasn't until Amlon broke his left arm and ripped up his leg that it was decided to get rid of him. Magic had always been taboo, and Amlon stunk of it. The 'official' decision was to send Amlon to Marn for treatment, and he was dropped there with gear and, strangely enough, no way to get back. He wasn't too concerned, he had two younger brothers that were now old enough to work with his father, and so the family would be taken care of. This in itself presented a great opportunity! A job in Marn could bring wealth to his small community.
Goals?
-Get a house.
-Get a job (He is going to have to learn a profession.)
-Get medical help (First on agenda, of course)
As for long term goals, Amlon has none though some are sure to appear over time. He probably will be pretty busy for now, trying to get a steady source of income however he can. Amlon hasn't gone and registered himself as a magic user, though he plans to... at some point.
Age: 26
Race: Human/Elf
Height: 6' 1''
Weight: 159 lbs
Appearance:
He has black black hair, cut short, about the length of ones pinkie. Tan skin, evident of much outside exposure. Amlon is strong, not overly strong, but noticeably stronger than your average man. His face is well defined, most notably his nose.
He wears brown shades of clothing, not out of choice, though given the choice he would choose the color anyway. Normally Amlon wears a cloth tunic that halfway to his knees, under that cloth pants that extend loosely to about six inches above his ankle. Both of these are over lapped at his waist by a leather belt which holds the pants up and the tunic down. Sandals lace up a little past his ankles.
Possessions:
Armour: Leather -Cuirass (Breastplate) -Grieves (Lower leg protection) -Bracers (Forearm protection) -Light Helm (Head protection)
Weapons:
-Two throwing axes, with a small hammer on one side, wedge shaped blade on other. 18 inches tall in total.
-A club of sorts, native to his homeland. Made entirely mostly of metal, save for a leather grip on a wood handle, this weapon is twenty four inches tall total. The main part of the weapon, (the part you smack people with) Is actually a cylinder, about an inch in diameter, which is attached to a wooden guard that is a section of the handle, the handle itself being six inches long. The overall look is a long dagger that has a thicker handle and a blade replaced with a metal bar.
Stuff:
-External Frame pack, flint and steel, small knife, wooden bowl/spoon, wool blanket, money pouch, lots of rope, an ax for tree-felling and chopping wood, a journal he never lets anyone read.
Powers/Strengths:
Amlon has good aim with his throwing axes, hitting targets fifty feet away seven out of ten times, with rapid improvement in statistics the closer you get, so basically anything within twenty feet that is larger than a rabbit is an easy shot for Amlon.
He also is a competent melee fighter with the throwing axes, despite their intended use.
Amlon semi-consciously numbs himself against pain, while retaining feeling. He still knows the pain is there, and even how bad, it just doesn't have any mental impact on him. If he touches someone, he can temporarily numb the body part he touched. However it isn't numbed in the manner that he experiences. It loses feeling for a full minute, and even basic motor control is impossible until the numbness starts to fade.
Amlon can temporarily lessen or increase his weight, or gravity. Literally going from ten pounds to four hundred. This lasts only about thirty seconds at a time. Though he can use it multiple times in a thread supposing there is a sufficient pause between uses.
Weaknesses:
Unfortunately, Amlon is terrible at the more nimble moves others might make, both in combat and in the normal world. Things like rolling back quickly, climbing cliffs (or anything other than a ladder/rope/steps for that matter), dodging, back flips, basically anything acrobatic at all is beyond him. Not for lack of trying however.
Stealth doesn't come to him naturally either. If he is trying to sneak around, likely he will be the guy that gets caught in the drapes, steps on that stick, or falls out of the closet. Don't take him on reconnaissance missions.
While Amlon is very good with his throwing axes, if you startle him somehow or he is mentally incapacitated in one way or another (drunk, drugged, just woke up, overcome with emotion, etc.) there is a good chance of him missing the target.
Lessening his gravity makes him slightly dizzy, and heightening it gives him headaches. Either one of these causes him trouble, missing a target that is coming at him, or slamming his head against a wall to get rid of the migraine that could come during repeated gravity raising. (Note that these effects last only for the duration of gravity change, and a moment after it. Though the headaches/dizziness will build and last longer the more he does it.)
Overall, Amlon is slightly gullible, though not trusting. You could trick him temporarily, but not to far before his better judgment gets to him. One of those people that follow a cut-throat into a dark alley, and then realizes his mistake. Not all the time, though it happens.
Personality:
Amlon's personality appears shallow and base on the outside. A first impression you might get is a slow, dimwitted typical warrior. But he truly is very thoughtful, though he hates puzzles. Amlon accepts most people quickly for who they are. Though he is more on the peoples side, as complex logic doesn't confuse him as much as bother him, after all there has to be a simpler solution to everything right? In his mind justice should be simple and swift. Not drawn out and oddly shaped like a trolls face. He always acts on his instincts, and if he judges that something unsavory has to be done, well he does it. A direct approach is best.
History:
Amlon is descended from the Olmec, his particular branch of that group coming from a family that weathered the oceans in a boat made of wood and large amounts of rubber. The rubber being the only reason the storm tossed water didn't rip the boat to shreds. This was centuries ago, and the families line is intermingled with many, but their tradition stayed with several small groups.
After the disasters caused in the Olmec nation, centuries later magic is taboo among the village where Amlon grew, those who used it were cast out. Weapons, such as swords an the like were more... Primitive, than normal. Throwing spears and axes, improved clubs, were much more common that bows and swords.
Where he grew up was in central Eyropa, where the mountains and forest meet. The village was a simple one. Farmed for food, log cabin homes, as woods was abundant. Trade was slow, they only received visits from a trader once a year. Likely do to how isolated they were, as well as how the small village didn't use money as much as a barter system. Life was average here for Amlon, he grew up with a father who was a woodcutter, simply chopping trees and gathering herbs occasionally for the town healers use. The cut trees had several uses, house building, cook fires, wood carving, boat building... the list goes on. Amlon joined his father when he was eleven, at which time he was strong enough to be taught in the craft, if just barely. Two younger brothers were a bit indignant, a younger sister didn't care. But Amlon had the time of his life. His father was always careful to keep him safe, and by the time he was sixteen, he could do much of the work himself. In the early morning they had time to hunt small game, something that Amlon excelled at with a throwing ax.
Amlon smiled at his fathers question, “Of course I can hit that, its not that far.” He stood beside Elmit, staring up at a group of wild turkey that are sitting at the top of a stony rise. He stepped away from his father, took one of his throwing axes and closed his eyes, a deep breath entered his lungs and the image of everything around him was vivid in his memory, a deep forest of evergreens, stopping suddenly where a waterfall cascades down from a sharp cliff. The water would be cold as it came from the mountains, and just down and to the right of it was a ledge that sloped a bit up to the top. On the ledge were the turkey. In a flash his eyes opened as his hand performed the throw, adjusting only a little as his hand moved. The ax flew, revolving only once in the air as it struck and threw one of the turkeys farther back on the ledge. Elmit, his father, turned towards him. A small smile on his face, Amlon didn't get the joke, and smiled back. “So, how do you think you are going to get that back down?” The smile slid off his own face. “Well, I suppose I didn't consider that...” His voice faded off as he looked the sheer cliff up and down. And then back at his father who was smiling widely now.
“You know, one of the greatest joys of being a father, is being there to watch your sons and daughters learn the same lessons that you did.”
Amlon sighed, and quickly walked over to the cliff. A glance over his shoulder at his father, and he turned back. With a sigh he began attempting to climb. After about eight minutes his father came to the rescue. “Why don't you put your foot right here, this ledge is only knee high, but is like a stepping stone up to more foot and hand holds. You will never get up there by trying to pull yourself up with your hands. One step at a time boy.” Amlon's cheeks turned slightly red from embarrassment and he moved to where his father had indicated. Slowly, he moved upward with more than a little urging from his father. Finally when he was a good thirteen feet in the air he had reached the ledge, grabbing the edge with his arms and pulling himself over scrabbling his legs against the rock below to get that final boost. Amlon rolled onto his back onto the ledge, breathing heavily as he watched the last of the live turkey flee- flapping farther down the cliff awkwardly and then into the forest. He sat up and grabbed the handle of his throwing ax, the actual blade embedded in the breast of the turkey, he pulled it out, wiping the blade on a cloth and standing with the dead fowl in one hand and the ax in the other, which he raised above his head, smiling triumphantly to his father. You could probably guess, that being himself Amlon took a step forward to begin the descent... and tripped over the edge.
The impact took his breath away, and Amlon quickly stood up, only to stumble slightly due to a wave of disorientation that went through him, and faded off. His father rushed over to him, and they both looked back to the ledge, and Elmit ran his hands over Amlon's ribs, back, and neck amazed to find him unarmed, if slightly scraped. Thirteen feet could be safely jumped, true. But that was if one was ready and prepared. He had fallen and landed on his back. Their eyes locked, and both their minds were thinking the same thing, Magic. His father broke contact, a little to quickly. And they retrieved the throwing ax and dead turkey from where they had been flung when Amlon had tripped. They walked back to the cabin in silence. Just before entering the cabin Elmit grabbed Amlon by the lower arm and put his fingers to his lips. They would never speak of this.
This incident was singular it seemed, and after a month Amlon and his father had passed it off as good luck. Life was good, and they were able to move into the small village. Where Amlon unfortunately found some enemies. They were just other boys that didn't like him though, nothing of consequence. Things escalated though, and one day they jumped him, there was an accident. Specifically, a large log hit Amlon full in the chest and he didn't seem to be affected by it, other than taking a step back. Another boy was crushed by a few logs. Amlon himself suffered broken ribs and a momentary headache. Rumors soon started when he didn't show any pain during the setting of the ribs, or anytime during it. It was a small town, and it was soon the only thing people had to talk about with no real outside communication with the world. He slowly gained a knowledge of his strange abilities, until he had some control. It wasn't until Amlon broke his left arm and ripped up his leg that it was decided to get rid of him. Magic had always been taboo, and Amlon stunk of it. The 'official' decision was to send Amlon to Marn for treatment, and he was dropped there with gear and, strangely enough, no way to get back. He wasn't too concerned, he had two younger brothers that were now old enough to work with his father, and so the family would be taken care of. This in itself presented a great opportunity! A job in Marn could bring wealth to his small community.
Goals?
-Get a house.
-Get a job (He is going to have to learn a profession.)
-Get medical help (First on agenda, of course)
As for long term goals, Amlon has none though some are sure to appear over time. He probably will be pretty busy for now, trying to get a steady source of income however he can. Amlon hasn't gone and registered himself as a magic user, though he plans to... at some point.