Rocais Volare
Posted: Mon Oct 14, 2013 12:52 pm
Name: Rocais Volare
Age: 23
Race: Human
Physical Description: Rocais is a fairly normal woman, and thus dresses with very practical clothing. Because of her status as a guard, she avoids lace and frills and all of the girly aspects that most women wear. She tends to dress in male slacks and tunics, seeking mobility and comfort when not wearing her armor. Rocais has an athletic build with slight curves, making it obvious she is a woman, even though she tries to dull those aspects as best as possible. Her hair is a fiery red, and easy to spot in the crowd. Her face is fair, some would say beautiful if not for the fact that she dresses and acts like a man. Rocais was outfitted with good, mobile armor. She chose to refrain from a face plate and neck covering. Her jade eyes are often serious, and her face composed. Rocais is not incredibly tall, she stands at about five feet and four inches, but it is her aura that makes her intimidating.
Possessions:
Housing: Rocais bunks with other guardsmen of her status at the fort. It isn't exactly the easiest for her, but it is a warm bed.
Horse: Rocais inherited an old nag named Goldie from her family, given to her after her father died in the service. It is old, white, and slow. It isn't an animal she is exactly proud of, but it keeps the mud off when it rains.
Weapons: Like most guardsmen, Rocais was issued a mace and armor. She does bring to the table, however, her bastard sword. It is about 40 inches long, with and additional 10 inches for the handle. Due to the length and nature of the sword, it can be used as both one handed, or two. Rocai will use it either way, but typically uses it with two hands. It weighs about five or six pounds, and is double edged.
Powers or Strengths: Rocais has many strengths, and many weaknesses.
Combat abilities: She is very good with a sword, she was trained by her father, as well as with the other guardsmen. She is agile and adaptable. She is light, and quick on her feet, and her mind is centered. She isn't perfect, and has been bested, but not before giving her opponent quite the workout.
Fortitude: This means that under duress, Rocais can focus without outside forces affecting her ability to concentrate. In a fight, she can block anger and pain, fighting without attachment. Oblivious to taunts, and even injuries at times, this is a definite advantage.
Prudence and Temperance: The ability to judge actions and determine the best reaction, and practicing self-control. These are both things Rocais is working on, but again, she is not perfect.
Song: Rocais is an amazing singer, almost as good as the passing bards in taverns. She won't sing in front of others, thinking she might get picked on by other guardsmen, or even the townsfolk. She wants to be taken seriously, being a minority.
Weaknesses and Flaws:
Anger: Rocais is easy to irritate and anger. She is working on controlling it, hence her strengths. It doesn't often consume her, but every once in a while, her tongue is vicious as well as her actions. If the right person gets under her skin, all her practice and training goes right out the window.
Confidence: Most of the time this is a good thing, however, it has gotten Rocais into plenty of trouble. Ask her to do something, and she will, no matter how extreme.
Loyalty: Again, usually a good thing. Rocais can take a good thing and make it into something bad. She is so loyal to a fault, that she would rather kill herself than disobey an order. All she wants to do is prove herself, no matter the cost.
Fear of failure: Her father died while serving as a guardsman, and all Rocais wants to do honor him. She fears that she might make some mistake and get thrown out of the service. She strives t be the perfect guardswoman, but at the same time doubts herself, and feels like she is failing her comrades, her city, and her father. Her doubts are always in her mind, constantly telling her she needs to work harder, and that she is a poor example of a guardswoman.
History:
From a young age, Rocais idolized her father. Her mother could not have been more upset over her choice of a sword over house keeping. When her father came home from guard duty for the night, he would bring a little Rocais outside to practice her sword work. He encouraged her to be like him, much to the dismay of Alana, Rocais's mother.
As she grew older, Alana made Rocais take more responsibility in the house, despite her yearning to go out and train with the dummy her father had set up outside. He came home less and less as Rocais started to become a woman, knowing he was not needed at home as much.
It was almost time for Rocais to turn thirteen, she had awaited her father's return for many days, hoping he would come home to celebrate. Alana had started looking for a suitable husband for her daughter, no matter how much Rocais protested. He birthday came and went, disappointment filled her, and Rocais became angry at her father. It wasn't until late in the evening that they heard a knock at their door.
Alana answered it, she spoke quietly to whomever it was and quietly shut the door behind her. Rocais had been sitting at their little wooden kitchen table when she saw the red in her mothers eyes. She ran from the room, not wanting to hear her mom say it, she couldn't. Rocais grabbed her sword, the one her father had given her as a gift, and ran out the back door. With an almost an animalistic scream, she attacked her dummy, over and over. Rocais fell to the earth, her sword falling in front of her. Tears ran muddy streaks down her face, her red hair covering it from the world. Sweat covered her shaking body, and whimpers erupted from her sore throat. Her dummy lay in pieces before her as she slowly rose, picked up her sword, and headed inside.
Alana told her daughter what had happened. Her father had died serving his people, and that was all that mattered. That night, Rocais told her mother that she would become a guardswoman, and no amount of threats or begging could stop her. Alana had hoped that by the time Rocais became eligible, she would have grown out of it, found someone to marry. This was not the case, and Alana could not stop Rocais when her mind was set.
Rocais turned sixteen, an uneventful affair. She hadn't had any friends since she was very little. She intimidated them, was too much of a leader for their taste. Alana baked her some special pastries, but that was about it. It was mandatory, that at her age, she go to some informal training on the defense of her city. She took this seriously, and went to fulfill her duty with pride. While in the training process, her abilities at a young age with a sword set her apart from some of the others. It was remarked on by one of the men training the young group, and it filled he with hope.
Years went by after that, and the time Rocais would turn eighteen was upon her. Instead of heading to the tavern for a drink and company, unlike most her age, she packed her things and set out for boot camp. Her head was high, her eyes full of pride, and her stance was confident.
The most grueling year Rocais has ever gone through, was the one she had hoped would fill her dreams. She was constantly dirty, sweaty, and berated. Rocais felt singled out, being a woman seeking a male dominated profession. It seemed she worked twice as hard as those around her, yet received no reward from it. It angered her, but made her work hard to prove herself. All her efforts paid off in the end. Many men attempted and failed at becoming a guardsmen, but she had not. Rocais had proved herself,and she couldn't have been happier.
The final night, before her guard duties started, she finally visited the tavern. Rocais got a little drunk off happiness and mead, then had the best sleep she had in a long time. The next day greeted her with new armor, and a mace, plus some scathing looks, and general irritation from the other male guards.
Roca got her marching orders and set to work. She would do whatever it takes to be the best guardswoman this city has ever seen.
Age: 23
Race: Human
Physical Description: Rocais is a fairly normal woman, and thus dresses with very practical clothing. Because of her status as a guard, she avoids lace and frills and all of the girly aspects that most women wear. She tends to dress in male slacks and tunics, seeking mobility and comfort when not wearing her armor. Rocais has an athletic build with slight curves, making it obvious she is a woman, even though she tries to dull those aspects as best as possible. Her hair is a fiery red, and easy to spot in the crowd. Her face is fair, some would say beautiful if not for the fact that she dresses and acts like a man. Rocais was outfitted with good, mobile armor. She chose to refrain from a face plate and neck covering. Her jade eyes are often serious, and her face composed. Rocais is not incredibly tall, she stands at about five feet and four inches, but it is her aura that makes her intimidating.
Possessions:
Housing: Rocais bunks with other guardsmen of her status at the fort. It isn't exactly the easiest for her, but it is a warm bed.
Horse: Rocais inherited an old nag named Goldie from her family, given to her after her father died in the service. It is old, white, and slow. It isn't an animal she is exactly proud of, but it keeps the mud off when it rains.
Weapons: Like most guardsmen, Rocais was issued a mace and armor. She does bring to the table, however, her bastard sword. It is about 40 inches long, with and additional 10 inches for the handle. Due to the length and nature of the sword, it can be used as both one handed, or two. Rocai will use it either way, but typically uses it with two hands. It weighs about five or six pounds, and is double edged.
Powers or Strengths: Rocais has many strengths, and many weaknesses.
Combat abilities: She is very good with a sword, she was trained by her father, as well as with the other guardsmen. She is agile and adaptable. She is light, and quick on her feet, and her mind is centered. She isn't perfect, and has been bested, but not before giving her opponent quite the workout.
Fortitude: This means that under duress, Rocais can focus without outside forces affecting her ability to concentrate. In a fight, she can block anger and pain, fighting without attachment. Oblivious to taunts, and even injuries at times, this is a definite advantage.
Prudence and Temperance: The ability to judge actions and determine the best reaction, and practicing self-control. These are both things Rocais is working on, but again, she is not perfect.
Song: Rocais is an amazing singer, almost as good as the passing bards in taverns. She won't sing in front of others, thinking she might get picked on by other guardsmen, or even the townsfolk. She wants to be taken seriously, being a minority.
Weaknesses and Flaws:
Anger: Rocais is easy to irritate and anger. She is working on controlling it, hence her strengths. It doesn't often consume her, but every once in a while, her tongue is vicious as well as her actions. If the right person gets under her skin, all her practice and training goes right out the window.
Confidence: Most of the time this is a good thing, however, it has gotten Rocais into plenty of trouble. Ask her to do something, and she will, no matter how extreme.
Loyalty: Again, usually a good thing. Rocais can take a good thing and make it into something bad. She is so loyal to a fault, that she would rather kill herself than disobey an order. All she wants to do is prove herself, no matter the cost.
Fear of failure: Her father died while serving as a guardsman, and all Rocais wants to do honor him. She fears that she might make some mistake and get thrown out of the service. She strives t be the perfect guardswoman, but at the same time doubts herself, and feels like she is failing her comrades, her city, and her father. Her doubts are always in her mind, constantly telling her she needs to work harder, and that she is a poor example of a guardswoman.
History:
From a young age, Rocais idolized her father. Her mother could not have been more upset over her choice of a sword over house keeping. When her father came home from guard duty for the night, he would bring a little Rocais outside to practice her sword work. He encouraged her to be like him, much to the dismay of Alana, Rocais's mother.
As she grew older, Alana made Rocais take more responsibility in the house, despite her yearning to go out and train with the dummy her father had set up outside. He came home less and less as Rocais started to become a woman, knowing he was not needed at home as much.
It was almost time for Rocais to turn thirteen, she had awaited her father's return for many days, hoping he would come home to celebrate. Alana had started looking for a suitable husband for her daughter, no matter how much Rocais protested. He birthday came and went, disappointment filled her, and Rocais became angry at her father. It wasn't until late in the evening that they heard a knock at their door.
Alana answered it, she spoke quietly to whomever it was and quietly shut the door behind her. Rocais had been sitting at their little wooden kitchen table when she saw the red in her mothers eyes. She ran from the room, not wanting to hear her mom say it, she couldn't. Rocais grabbed her sword, the one her father had given her as a gift, and ran out the back door. With an almost an animalistic scream, she attacked her dummy, over and over. Rocais fell to the earth, her sword falling in front of her. Tears ran muddy streaks down her face, her red hair covering it from the world. Sweat covered her shaking body, and whimpers erupted from her sore throat. Her dummy lay in pieces before her as she slowly rose, picked up her sword, and headed inside.
Alana told her daughter what had happened. Her father had died serving his people, and that was all that mattered. That night, Rocais told her mother that she would become a guardswoman, and no amount of threats or begging could stop her. Alana had hoped that by the time Rocais became eligible, she would have grown out of it, found someone to marry. This was not the case, and Alana could not stop Rocais when her mind was set.
Rocais turned sixteen, an uneventful affair. She hadn't had any friends since she was very little. She intimidated them, was too much of a leader for their taste. Alana baked her some special pastries, but that was about it. It was mandatory, that at her age, she go to some informal training on the defense of her city. She took this seriously, and went to fulfill her duty with pride. While in the training process, her abilities at a young age with a sword set her apart from some of the others. It was remarked on by one of the men training the young group, and it filled he with hope.
Years went by after that, and the time Rocais would turn eighteen was upon her. Instead of heading to the tavern for a drink and company, unlike most her age, she packed her things and set out for boot camp. Her head was high, her eyes full of pride, and her stance was confident.
The most grueling year Rocais has ever gone through, was the one she had hoped would fill her dreams. She was constantly dirty, sweaty, and berated. Rocais felt singled out, being a woman seeking a male dominated profession. It seemed she worked twice as hard as those around her, yet received no reward from it. It angered her, but made her work hard to prove herself. All her efforts paid off in the end. Many men attempted and failed at becoming a guardsmen, but she had not. Rocais had proved herself,and she couldn't have been happier.
The final night, before her guard duties started, she finally visited the tavern. Rocais got a little drunk off happiness and mead, then had the best sleep she had in a long time. The next day greeted her with new armor, and a mace, plus some scathing looks, and general irritation from the other male guards.
Roca got her marching orders and set to work. She would do whatever it takes to be the best guardswoman this city has ever seen.