Shasto Alys
Posted: Sun Feb 24, 2013 7:53 pm
Full Name: Shasto Alys
Race: Human
Gender: Male
Height: 5’4”
Weight: 110 lbs
Eyes: Brown
Hair: Brown
Age: 16
Physical Description:
Everything about Shasto’s physical appearance befits his rank in society: unassuming, unimportant, mediocre. Of an average height and wiry build, Shasto possesses no presence that commands attention or catches the quick glance of a passing lady. Years of work in his family’s tavern has taught him the art of passing through throngs of people undetected, and his short stature certainly aids in this skill. Impossibly thick, curly brown hair protrudes proudly from a head that looks a size too big for the rest of his body. Kind brown eyes rest high on his face below two bushy eyebrows, which are often raised in an intrigued grin. The poor condition of his yellowing teeth scarcely detracts from the pleasantness of his smile, if he could ever get your attention in the first place.
Shasto owns two pairs of woolen trousers, both of them old and worn, and one pair sports a pea-sized hole embarrassingly close to his crotch. His one tunic started its life white, but years of tavern work have stained it with sweat and mead and who knows what else. His father’s hand me down boots that he wears have never fit him right, always being a bit too large, but they are perfectly worn in and comfortable, and help Shasto keep solid footing when he runs around the wet floors of the tavern.
Possessions:
Shasto’s only possessions are odd little trinkets forgotten by the patrons of his family’s tavern. His father would be like to pummel him if Shasto ever slipped up and revealed that for years he has been pocketing things left on tables when his parents’ watchful eyes had not been there to stop him. Those opportunities had been few and far between, but they had provided Shasto with some real treasures: a rigged silver coin with strange images he imagined must be from a different land, a single leather glove, a map of Eyropa that he cannot read and a fine 7 inch knife with a silver sheath that is his pride and joy.
Powers or Strengths:
Shasto’s most powerful asset is his inquisitive mind. While nature might have denied him the sort of dazzling intellect appropriate for universities or scholars, and birth status denied him tutors and education, years of genuine curiosity have armed him with the most valuable type of intelligence around: common sense. His powers of reason have lead him to firmly believe that the best solution is often times also the simplest, so he makes it a point to seek simple, practical solutions to problems. He is also good with sums, having helped his father balance the tavern’s earnings against its expenses for more years than he could remember. While his arithmetic skills are impressive for a peasant with no education, Shasto cannot read or write, and this is the thing about himself Shasto most wishes he could change.
Shasto has spent the majority of his life carrying trays of mead and food to and fro, weaving in and out of tables with an impressive agility. While this exercise has not helped him build up a powerful chest or manly arms, it has helped him perfect the art of eavesdropping almost to a magic. Working in a tavern teaches one the art of being seen and not heard, and Shasto has mastered the skill. He can slip behind you and inconspicuously wipe off a table behind where you are sitting, all the while memorizing the content of your conversation with your dinner companion.
Weaknesses and Flaws:
The naivety that comes with a lack of real life experiences is Shasto's biggest weakness. While his abilities to reason are sharp, the hard truth of the matter is that Shasto is little more than an uneducated tavern boy. He cannot read or write, and his skills with mathematics are limited to basic addition and subtraction. This lack of formal education has also translated into a certain gullibility in trusting people: Shasto assumes that most people are inherently good, and while within the confines of his tavern life this trait has not been to his detriment, it seems like only a matter of time before such a quality will get him into trouble.
An extension of this naivety is evident in the blind patriotism the entire Alys family feels towards Marn. Although the Alys family shares no blood with the First Settlers, his father always instilled in his family a sense of loyalty to the government. No magic has ever manifested itself in any Alys, and just as well, because Father has always been skeptical of those with special abilities. This type of blind xenophobia was unfortunately passed on to Shasto, who eyes anyone who can use magic with the utmost suspicion.
Personality shortcomings aside, Shasto's physical body is also not without its flaws. His wiry frame is almost entirely without muscle, and no matter how much manual labor he does, Shasto's body seems resigned to stay skinny. Shasto knows that a physical confrontation is the absolute last thing he should ever want to be involved in, because unless his opponent is a prepubescent boy or a girl, his chances of success are near none.
History:
His whole life he smelled like onions.
For twelve years he had worked in his parents’ tavern. The Milk and Mead was the Alys’ family’s pride, livelihood, and Shasto knew it would be his only inheritance when his parents were gone. It only made sense that way. For as many generations back as his father could remember (which was only, in truth, two or three), his family had tended the tavern and slept in its modest quarters above the kitchen. There were two impossibly tiny rooms up there, although even if the wall between them were knocked down the space would still be so small as to give a regular sized room offense for having to share the name. He and his younger sister Taia shared a bed in one room while his parents slept in the other. Life within the walls of The Milk and Mead was the only life he had ever known, and he could not envision a reality apart from it. While others might have viewed such a life as pointless, the thought excited Shasto: he relished the idea of owning the tavern after Father passed. He liked the honest work required to keep a tavern running, even if he did go to sleep each night and wake up each morning reeking of onions.
He was four when Father decided he was old enough to contribute to the family’s well being. His first jobs had been the simplest: washing dishes, mopping floors, cleaning off tables after patrons stumbled out into the night. As he grew older and more capable, his responsibilities increased to serving travelers, learning basic carpentry to help with the upkeep of the building and any other job required to keep the place in good standing. Mother had even been teaching him her famous onion a leek soup recipe, always a crowd favorite. Day to day life in the tavern was slow and unchanging. Shasto learned early on to accept the monotony, content with the knowledge that even if his life was boring and predictable, he had shelter and enough food to fill his belly. Not all citizens of Marn, he knew, were so lucky.
That's not to say that excitement did not occasionally call upon The Milk and Mead. He was nine years old the first time he remembered the daily routine of the tavern interrupted.
[OOC: I have never roleplayed like this before. I am new to the whole process and wanted to post an in progress app to get some feedback before I fully flesh out the history to see if I am on the right track. I'm also trying to write a character to fit into the pro-government plot I read about. Let me know! Thanks!]
Race: Human
Gender: Male
Height: 5’4”
Weight: 110 lbs
Eyes: Brown
Hair: Brown
Age: 16
Physical Description:
Everything about Shasto’s physical appearance befits his rank in society: unassuming, unimportant, mediocre. Of an average height and wiry build, Shasto possesses no presence that commands attention or catches the quick glance of a passing lady. Years of work in his family’s tavern has taught him the art of passing through throngs of people undetected, and his short stature certainly aids in this skill. Impossibly thick, curly brown hair protrudes proudly from a head that looks a size too big for the rest of his body. Kind brown eyes rest high on his face below two bushy eyebrows, which are often raised in an intrigued grin. The poor condition of his yellowing teeth scarcely detracts from the pleasantness of his smile, if he could ever get your attention in the first place.
Shasto owns two pairs of woolen trousers, both of them old and worn, and one pair sports a pea-sized hole embarrassingly close to his crotch. His one tunic started its life white, but years of tavern work have stained it with sweat and mead and who knows what else. His father’s hand me down boots that he wears have never fit him right, always being a bit too large, but they are perfectly worn in and comfortable, and help Shasto keep solid footing when he runs around the wet floors of the tavern.
Possessions:
Shasto’s only possessions are odd little trinkets forgotten by the patrons of his family’s tavern. His father would be like to pummel him if Shasto ever slipped up and revealed that for years he has been pocketing things left on tables when his parents’ watchful eyes had not been there to stop him. Those opportunities had been few and far between, but they had provided Shasto with some real treasures: a rigged silver coin with strange images he imagined must be from a different land, a single leather glove, a map of Eyropa that he cannot read and a fine 7 inch knife with a silver sheath that is his pride and joy.
Powers or Strengths:
Shasto’s most powerful asset is his inquisitive mind. While nature might have denied him the sort of dazzling intellect appropriate for universities or scholars, and birth status denied him tutors and education, years of genuine curiosity have armed him with the most valuable type of intelligence around: common sense. His powers of reason have lead him to firmly believe that the best solution is often times also the simplest, so he makes it a point to seek simple, practical solutions to problems. He is also good with sums, having helped his father balance the tavern’s earnings against its expenses for more years than he could remember. While his arithmetic skills are impressive for a peasant with no education, Shasto cannot read or write, and this is the thing about himself Shasto most wishes he could change.
Shasto has spent the majority of his life carrying trays of mead and food to and fro, weaving in and out of tables with an impressive agility. While this exercise has not helped him build up a powerful chest or manly arms, it has helped him perfect the art of eavesdropping almost to a magic. Working in a tavern teaches one the art of being seen and not heard, and Shasto has mastered the skill. He can slip behind you and inconspicuously wipe off a table behind where you are sitting, all the while memorizing the content of your conversation with your dinner companion.
Weaknesses and Flaws:
The naivety that comes with a lack of real life experiences is Shasto's biggest weakness. While his abilities to reason are sharp, the hard truth of the matter is that Shasto is little more than an uneducated tavern boy. He cannot read or write, and his skills with mathematics are limited to basic addition and subtraction. This lack of formal education has also translated into a certain gullibility in trusting people: Shasto assumes that most people are inherently good, and while within the confines of his tavern life this trait has not been to his detriment, it seems like only a matter of time before such a quality will get him into trouble.
An extension of this naivety is evident in the blind patriotism the entire Alys family feels towards Marn. Although the Alys family shares no blood with the First Settlers, his father always instilled in his family a sense of loyalty to the government. No magic has ever manifested itself in any Alys, and just as well, because Father has always been skeptical of those with special abilities. This type of blind xenophobia was unfortunately passed on to Shasto, who eyes anyone who can use magic with the utmost suspicion.
Personality shortcomings aside, Shasto's physical body is also not without its flaws. His wiry frame is almost entirely without muscle, and no matter how much manual labor he does, Shasto's body seems resigned to stay skinny. Shasto knows that a physical confrontation is the absolute last thing he should ever want to be involved in, because unless his opponent is a prepubescent boy or a girl, his chances of success are near none.
History:
His whole life he smelled like onions.
For twelve years he had worked in his parents’ tavern. The Milk and Mead was the Alys’ family’s pride, livelihood, and Shasto knew it would be his only inheritance when his parents were gone. It only made sense that way. For as many generations back as his father could remember (which was only, in truth, two or three), his family had tended the tavern and slept in its modest quarters above the kitchen. There were two impossibly tiny rooms up there, although even if the wall between them were knocked down the space would still be so small as to give a regular sized room offense for having to share the name. He and his younger sister Taia shared a bed in one room while his parents slept in the other. Life within the walls of The Milk and Mead was the only life he had ever known, and he could not envision a reality apart from it. While others might have viewed such a life as pointless, the thought excited Shasto: he relished the idea of owning the tavern after Father passed. He liked the honest work required to keep a tavern running, even if he did go to sleep each night and wake up each morning reeking of onions.
He was four when Father decided he was old enough to contribute to the family’s well being. His first jobs had been the simplest: washing dishes, mopping floors, cleaning off tables after patrons stumbled out into the night. As he grew older and more capable, his responsibilities increased to serving travelers, learning basic carpentry to help with the upkeep of the building and any other job required to keep the place in good standing. Mother had even been teaching him her famous onion a leek soup recipe, always a crowd favorite. Day to day life in the tavern was slow and unchanging. Shasto learned early on to accept the monotony, content with the knowledge that even if his life was boring and predictable, he had shelter and enough food to fill his belly. Not all citizens of Marn, he knew, were so lucky.
That's not to say that excitement did not occasionally call upon The Milk and Mead. He was nine years old the first time he remembered the daily routine of the tavern interrupted.
[OOC: I have never roleplayed like this before. I am new to the whole process and wanted to post an in progress app to get some feedback before I fully flesh out the history to see if I am on the right track. I'm also trying to write a character to fit into the pro-government plot I read about. Let me know! Thanks!]
