Post by Arry {{Aurore}} on Dec 29, 2006 18:18:05 GMT -5
actually, It is done...I'll fill in the weapon stuff and all that jazz if I ever have her chose to fight, yet for now, She won't fight.
Name- Aurore Sigrithier
Age- nineteen and one half.
Date of Birth- April 2nd
Homelands- Alandiar-In the small Village of Cliffport.
Race- Quarter Rhyln (made up race by me, It's a sort of Earthly race, Shall explain later)
Class- Herbalist?--Yet her anscestry makes her good with plants so.-None of the classes quite fit....
Final- (one special attack)-She doesn't quite fight, and won't know any of her powers
(name of attack)
[description]
----------------------------
{Weapon information}
(name)
physical description
[enchantments]
{Armour Information}
(name)
physical description
[enchantments]
{Accessory Information}
(name)
physical description
[what it does]
{Personality}
Aurore has a soft nature. Calm, and soothing like summer's warm breeze. She tends to spend most her days off in the forests, picking herbs from dawn's first light, to the mid evening, In which she returns and sets to work with her Grandfather, showing him her rare finds. Her overall gentle nature seems to radiate in an innocent joy, yet so curious is the feeling she seems to represent, it makes you wonder if perhaps there is something not quite normal about her. Something hidden deep in her innercore, in which she hasn't quite found the answer to. Yet to all questions, there are answers, and for every question, a path. Some are just harder to find.
{Physical Description}
Slightly wavy, raven tresses fall down past her shoulders, with lighter brown under tones; An upshot from letting the sun soak into the dark mane for too many days of her life. Bronze skin is pulled taught over her willowy limbs, and she is perhaps too thin for likes. To her utter shame, she seems a bit under the average weight of woman in this country, yet she tries to cover this flaw by working a lot and building a slight bit of muscle, in which she does have, mostly in her legs and arms. Almond shaped eyes of deep hazel sit under high arced brows, which are slightly curved upward, giving her an airy look about her expression in general. She carries her self lightly, yet despite her subtle grace, she tends to slouch at times, due to habit from bending when picking herbs. Added to her lithe limbs, she has a fragile delicacy to her gait, as if the slightest tremor might break her brittle existence.
Faint freckles are marked across her thin nose, and sprinkle about her cheeks, another "gift" from the sun that she had acquired over the years. She wears a simple brown dress, with a gray tunic inlayed beneath it. A thick leather belt hangs loosely about her slender waist, in which there is a pouch of rabbit skinned leather and a sheath with dagger. Thick boots are pulled over her feet, tying up the front with thick strings. Work boots some might call, for indeed she does work in them. Patches litter across her dress, making it obvious of the wealth she does not possess, yet her fragile, fair appearance hints otherwise.
{Background}
Aurore was born into a normal family of a slight second hand stature. Living in a small, Three roomed house, which consisted of the main floor, the loft, and another room for her parents. It was cozy, yet squished, to say at the least. Living there with her two brothers, parnets and grandfather.
Aurore lived a quite happy life, until the age of three. There was a raid in her village of Cliffport, and her house was set aflame. It was only out of luck, that her grandfather managed to get Aurore to safety, yet in the havoc and hazard the rest of her family perished.
The town started anew, and her Grandfather restarted up his herb shop, teaching the young toddler all he knew about plants, and all things of the sorts. Healing, poisons, remedies.
Along the years, Aurore grew from that young toddler of three, to a blossoming young woman of nineteen. Nearing the end of her maturity, her grandfather feared she would be shipped off, To marry some rich man in a land far from here, as to what was accustomed in such times. Yet despite this, he loved his granddaughter. Her feral personality, and all about gentle nature, which even he could not put to emphasize on. Yet in his heart, he knew he would be parted with her soon, and not just of her being sent away, but him. His heart grew weak, and the pulse fainter as it grasped onto the withering life still held in it. He kept this from his granddaughter, yet every day the pain grew, and the withering feeling inside him. He was going to die, yet, to leave his granddaughter in this cold world. Deprive her of the only family she had left; Could he, did he have a choice?
Instead of leaving her alone in the death that was obvious to come, He notes Aurore is somehow different. So he sends her to Twilight Moon Academy, promising good to come from her and there my friend, is where our story leaves off.
{Pictures}
Name- Aurore Sigrithier
Age- nineteen and one half.
Date of Birth- April 2nd
Homelands- Alandiar-In the small Village of Cliffport.
Race- Quarter Rhyln (made up race by me, It's a sort of Earthly race, Shall explain later)
Class- Herbalist?--Yet her anscestry makes her good with plants so.-None of the classes quite fit....
Final- (one special attack)-She doesn't quite fight, and won't know any of her powers
(name of attack)
[description]
----------------------------
{Weapon information}
(name)
physical description
[enchantments]
{Armour Information}
(name)
physical description
[enchantments]
{Accessory Information}
(name)
physical description
[what it does]
{Personality}
Aurore has a soft nature. Calm, and soothing like summer's warm breeze. She tends to spend most her days off in the forests, picking herbs from dawn's first light, to the mid evening, In which she returns and sets to work with her Grandfather, showing him her rare finds. Her overall gentle nature seems to radiate in an innocent joy, yet so curious is the feeling she seems to represent, it makes you wonder if perhaps there is something not quite normal about her. Something hidden deep in her innercore, in which she hasn't quite found the answer to. Yet to all questions, there are answers, and for every question, a path. Some are just harder to find.
{Physical Description}
Slightly wavy, raven tresses fall down past her shoulders, with lighter brown under tones; An upshot from letting the sun soak into the dark mane for too many days of her life. Bronze skin is pulled taught over her willowy limbs, and she is perhaps too thin for likes. To her utter shame, she seems a bit under the average weight of woman in this country, yet she tries to cover this flaw by working a lot and building a slight bit of muscle, in which she does have, mostly in her legs and arms. Almond shaped eyes of deep hazel sit under high arced brows, which are slightly curved upward, giving her an airy look about her expression in general. She carries her self lightly, yet despite her subtle grace, she tends to slouch at times, due to habit from bending when picking herbs. Added to her lithe limbs, she has a fragile delicacy to her gait, as if the slightest tremor might break her brittle existence.
Faint freckles are marked across her thin nose, and sprinkle about her cheeks, another "gift" from the sun that she had acquired over the years. She wears a simple brown dress, with a gray tunic inlayed beneath it. A thick leather belt hangs loosely about her slender waist, in which there is a pouch of rabbit skinned leather and a sheath with dagger. Thick boots are pulled over her feet, tying up the front with thick strings. Work boots some might call, for indeed she does work in them. Patches litter across her dress, making it obvious of the wealth she does not possess, yet her fragile, fair appearance hints otherwise.
{Background}
Aurore was born into a normal family of a slight second hand stature. Living in a small, Three roomed house, which consisted of the main floor, the loft, and another room for her parents. It was cozy, yet squished, to say at the least. Living there with her two brothers, parnets and grandfather.
Aurore lived a quite happy life, until the age of three. There was a raid in her village of Cliffport, and her house was set aflame. It was only out of luck, that her grandfather managed to get Aurore to safety, yet in the havoc and hazard the rest of her family perished.
The town started anew, and her Grandfather restarted up his herb shop, teaching the young toddler all he knew about plants, and all things of the sorts. Healing, poisons, remedies.
Along the years, Aurore grew from that young toddler of three, to a blossoming young woman of nineteen. Nearing the end of her maturity, her grandfather feared she would be shipped off, To marry some rich man in a land far from here, as to what was accustomed in such times. Yet despite this, he loved his granddaughter. Her feral personality, and all about gentle nature, which even he could not put to emphasize on. Yet in his heart, he knew he would be parted with her soon, and not just of her being sent away, but him. His heart grew weak, and the pulse fainter as it grasped onto the withering life still held in it. He kept this from his granddaughter, yet every day the pain grew, and the withering feeling inside him. He was going to die, yet, to leave his granddaughter in this cold world. Deprive her of the only family she had left; Could he, did he have a choice?
Instead of leaving her alone in the death that was obvious to come, He notes Aurore is somehow different. So he sends her to Twilight Moon Academy, promising good to come from her and there my friend, is where our story leaves off.
{Pictures}
