Post by Kidney on Apr 22, 2020 3:20:40 GMT -8
Darriossir Mederec
Resolve level: 0 (0/1)
-AppearanceAge:
Anywhere from 24-26 (Birthday unknown)
Sex:
Male
Physical Description:
An average man of indiscriminate darker skin tone, Darriossir's body is one that values function over aesthetic, body dotted with beauty marks and smallish scars. A scrape there, a scar elsewhere, it all blends together into an individual that looks rugged, but additionally, like an oasis, a beautiful spot in said rugged nature. A handsome individual with a mane of black hair that is often tumbling out of his hood, bracketing a bony face that sports a clean shaven look. A hawkish nose hangs over thin lips, the only assemblage of hair on his face being a soul-patch surrounded by stubble.
Down the remainder of his body is a normal-ish look, less handsome, but less forward, a shade paler than his hands and face. The paleness itself shines a light on his extreme amount of body hair, which holds dominion over his chest and arms, but thins mostly along the shoulder and back.
Attire:
Darriossir's form is often obscured by a great amount of clothing, starting of which being a silken shirt and light pants, hidden underneath leather-brown robes of a similar fabric, wrapped again with a thick cloak of a nearer to black fabric. The robes and cloak are encrusted and emblazoned with many bits of Owl imagery and various baubles, from gourd-necklaces to several bags attached to a belt like fish on a holding line. Additionally, along his forearms and hands, several gold and bronze chainlettes link between his digits and cross between them, these are mostly for presentary purposes, not always connected, but always present, attached to rings on his fingers and to the ends of many thimbles on others. Various spice-bags also make their presence known on his heavy belt, which additionally holds the sheath of his crescent-shaped knife and the only hook for him to hand his censer should he not be holding it. His attire seems to be littered with satchels and bags and rag-bundles that hold various spices, herbs and other materials, from sand to worthless crystals, to twigs, to roots and wedding rings.
-Biography
Quirks:
Quickdraw: This one has had to strike without hesitation many times, and such has developed a knack for pulling forth a gun in a hurry.
Skilled Gambler: Such is the way of the Treasure Hunter, to put his treasure on Red.
Daredevil: When blood drips from fingers to the icy cold stone floor of a temple, and bandits stand in the way of glory, one learns to take risks.
-
Fear of Beasts: This one has earned a fear of beasts through many interactions with Cave-Dwelling Bats and angry dogs.
Zoophobia: This one truly despises the beasts of the wild. Enough to reiterate twice in one sitting.
Antsy: Every moment that passes is a moment one could steal what you've worked so hard to steal first.
Curious: If every stone is to be upturned, and one holds no regrets.
Dark Temptation: In the darkness lies a new world of exciting discoveries.
Backstory Synopsis:Quickdraw: This one has had to strike without hesitation many times, and such has developed a knack for pulling forth a gun in a hurry.
Skilled Gambler: Such is the way of the Treasure Hunter, to put his treasure on Red.
Daredevil: When blood drips from fingers to the icy cold stone floor of a temple, and bandits stand in the way of glory, one learns to take risks.
-
Fear of Beasts: This one has earned a fear of beasts through many interactions with Cave-Dwelling Bats and angry dogs.
Zoophobia: This one truly despises the beasts of the wild. Enough to reiterate twice in one sitting.
Antsy: Every moment that passes is a moment one could steal what you've worked so hard to steal first.
Curious: If every stone is to be upturned, and one holds no regrets.
Dark Temptation: In the darkness lies a new world of exciting discoveries.
A man separated from family and friend on The Silk Road, this one found aptitude in the histories of the world, and with experience in mind, they explored all they could, but once The Estate promises glory and gold, trinkets and baubles, it calls this one forward and onward towards their death. But if death is circumvented, what possibilities lie ahead?
Full Backstory:
"Long traveled is this one's road, from sea to shining sea."
Born along the well-traveled Silk Road, Dario's life was one of consistent and benevolent travel. From sight to sight, his eyes took in every detail, and stories into his early childhood captured his developing imagination. From time to time, though, his father's eyes took on a different shade, one of fear, and paranoia. The conflicts between the many religious factions to the west put fear in the hearts of all who slept soundly in the rainy highlands, but Dario's father sought above all else a safe realm to raise his children. And as such, he began a journey to the far west, to reach the city of Byzantium.
The Journey was not a long one, and Dario remembers every waking moment when the Highwaymen flooded his stagecoach with arrow and musketball. He did not see much after that, tossed into the reeds of a nearby river by his own father, and from there...he ran. He ran as far as he could, through tree and through shrub. In his travels down the road he saw many animal and many a man, and quickly was taken in by a family of olive farmers. Their hospitality was unmatched, and they employed and housed the young Dario. Dario's early intellect devoured the writings within the home, of monsters and men, of sights and scenes, and of business and Gold.
In his early manhood, Dario was contracted to a relative of the man that had saved him, and became a scribe. His writings would travel far, business orders, receipts, trade agreements, the pages and paper were his legacy, or so he thought. In time, his new employer found himself in poor health, and upon his deathbed he gave his scribe enough pay for the whole month. Dario took this, and left. His feet carried him further and further, until finally he reached the great City itself. His time there was full of mystery and of lost love, and news of a deceased family. Such was the nature of life, taken by those unworthy.
Dario took up the mantle of his Father's dream, content to settle in lands farther than Byzantium, and farther were they indeed. The quiet nights blended together, but one stands out. On this night, Dario witnessed a star fall from the sky. He chased it, far and farther, until finally he came upon a strange device in the crater of an astral wreckage. The Device. He would re-purpose it, a message from the heavens, he assumed. His path was to be taken farther. He trekked, and he saw. He observed and he delved. A man renewed, and a curious one. He cracked mighty Mausoleum doors, and he sketched great strange statues in mountainous caves. He finally settled in the farthest place he had ever been, and in that place...he heard tale of a strange Estate, its surroundings altered, and wholly avoided. Such was the nature of the Treasure Hunter, to bet it all on Red, and race to the place sure to excite the senses and fill the purses. Dario's time was now. The Estate, his golden goose.
Born along the well-traveled Silk Road, Dario's life was one of consistent and benevolent travel. From sight to sight, his eyes took in every detail, and stories into his early childhood captured his developing imagination. From time to time, though, his father's eyes took on a different shade, one of fear, and paranoia. The conflicts between the many religious factions to the west put fear in the hearts of all who slept soundly in the rainy highlands, but Dario's father sought above all else a safe realm to raise his children. And as such, he began a journey to the far west, to reach the city of Byzantium.
The Journey was not a long one, and Dario remembers every waking moment when the Highwaymen flooded his stagecoach with arrow and musketball. He did not see much after that, tossed into the reeds of a nearby river by his own father, and from there...he ran. He ran as far as he could, through tree and through shrub. In his travels down the road he saw many animal and many a man, and quickly was taken in by a family of olive farmers. Their hospitality was unmatched, and they employed and housed the young Dario. Dario's early intellect devoured the writings within the home, of monsters and men, of sights and scenes, and of business and Gold.
In his early manhood, Dario was contracted to a relative of the man that had saved him, and became a scribe. His writings would travel far, business orders, receipts, trade agreements, the pages and paper were his legacy, or so he thought. In time, his new employer found himself in poor health, and upon his deathbed he gave his scribe enough pay for the whole month. Dario took this, and left. His feet carried him further and further, until finally he reached the great City itself. His time there was full of mystery and of lost love, and news of a deceased family. Such was the nature of life, taken by those unworthy.
Dario took up the mantle of his Father's dream, content to settle in lands farther than Byzantium, and farther were they indeed. The quiet nights blended together, but one stands out. On this night, Dario witnessed a star fall from the sky. He chased it, far and farther, until finally he came upon a strange device in the crater of an astral wreckage. The Device. He would re-purpose it, a message from the heavens, he assumed. His path was to be taken farther. He trekked, and he saw. He observed and he delved. A man renewed, and a curious one. He cracked mighty Mausoleum doors, and he sketched great strange statues in mountainous caves. He finally settled in the farthest place he had ever been, and in that place...he heard tale of a strange Estate, its surroundings altered, and wholly avoided. Such was the nature of the Treasure Hunter, to bet it all on Red, and race to the place sure to excite the senses and fill the purses. Dario's time was now. The Estate, his golden goose.
Misc. Notes: Various bits of jewelry dot this one, from nipple rings to toe rings on small toes. But, all of it is as best cheap, more to dot the body and fill empty space than to portray extravagance. The smell that comes off this one is exotic and strange, like smoked paprika and old paper.
-Skills & Equipment
Weapons:
Ambrosius: A strong, steel, crescent-shaped knife, a gift from this one's first days in Byzantium.
Theodora: A well-kept flintlock pistol, held in a fold of a silken scarf that hangs low on the chest.
Ambrosius: A strong, steel, crescent-shaped knife, a gift from this one's first days in Byzantium.
Theodora: A well-kept flintlock pistol, held in a fold of a silken scarf that hangs low on the chest.
None really, besides the protection several layers of fabrics and their accompanying trinkets provide.
Other gear:
The Device: Used as a censer, this strange cylindrical contraption is mostly glass, through the front-facing side's glass is broken in a fist-sized hole. On the inside, the top and bottom of the device exhibit several holes, of which exhale a constant stream of minute blue flame. This is a reaction that seemingly goes on forever, and works great as a smoker. Along the glass in places is old burnt organic matter, and on the outside there exists polished steel that has only accrued minute imperfection in its long career with Darriossir.
(Backstory to The Device is here, for personal reading. Do not read if you do not want to know, and would rather The Device remain ambiguous.)
Strengths: A well-thinking researcher, Darriossir's early days as scribe and personal assistant of olive farmers gave him an edge in academic pursuits. Additionally Darriossir's knowledge of eastern-European history lends itself to a knowledge of certain figurines and their value, which can be used to accrue greater wealth on an expedition. (The equivalent of finding valuable statues in-game.) Also, Darriossir is well versed in quick shootouts and basic knife wielding. The Device: Used as a censer, this strange cylindrical contraption is mostly glass, through the front-facing side's glass is broken in a fist-sized hole. On the inside, the top and bottom of the device exhibit several holes, of which exhale a constant stream of minute blue flame. This is a reaction that seemingly goes on forever, and works great as a smoker. Along the glass in places is old burnt organic matter, and on the outside there exists polished steel that has only accrued minute imperfection in its long career with Darriossir.
(Backstory to The Device is here, for personal reading. Do not read if you do not want to know, and would rather The Device remain ambiguous.)
Darriossir witnessed a UFO crash through the atmosphere and burn up into almost nothing, but, a single burning thing did not get destroyed, simply got very hot, and crashed into the earth. What The Device is is an artificial womb for an alien being. The Device is made so that it could survive astronomical damage, and protect the creature within. The biology of the aliens is very heat-centric, and the heated flames keep the creature in an embryotic stasis, when temperatures cool, the embryo develops into a larval state. The rapid change from the heat of landfall to the cold of the ground caused the creature to awaken before the fuel within the cell dies, so, we have a very long-lasting fuel burning smol very hot flames. The Creature is in no way related to the Hamlet, but it did live, and it did assimilate into human society elsewhere.
Weaknesses: Darriossir is a weak individual, hardy in exploitative pursuits but ultimately useless in a real fight, easily overpowered and a poor tactician. Additionally, a condition due to inbreeding in his immediate family has made him poor-blooded, with slight anemia and a greater possibility of blight affecting him. Thusly, Darriossir is oftentimes a masked and hooded individual, which has its own set of setbacks in a stressful situation, like lowering yourself on a rope, or having said hood or mask drawn over your eyes.
