Post by Aki on May 25, 2008 3:45:18 GMT -5
Name- Hvecamet Eu.
- The 'ca' sound is made in the back of the throat.
Age- Unknown- it's unimportant. He appears to be in his late teenage years or early twenties.
Date of Birth- Unknown.
Homelands- Eusava, a little island, literally near a dozen meters in length and width, that sits in a wide river. As such, the main diet of it's sometime resident is fish. The island stretches deep into the ground and a previous resident had clawed a short moist, tunnel into the soft loam. At the bottom is a small room, the usual residence of Hvecamet. Stones and rounded pebbles rest in each corner, dried wax staining their polished surfaces. The nearest neighbours are a human settlement, from which Hvecamet was able to gain the books that are carefully stowed in a wooden chest half-embedded in the ground of his tunnel. It is unclear where the name came from, but Hvecamet took his second name from it. A tree grows from it's soil, stretching it's many branches over the fast flowing water. It would perhaps be considered a pretty home, if it's resident had not decided to decorate the scenery with sharpened stakes.
Race- Demon
Class- Shapeshifter
Final- (Veret)
Named after someone important that Hvecamet quite literally lost, as the name is all that he remembers of the person. By exerting a large quantity of his own energy, Hvecamet is able to take an equal amount of energy from his opponent and send the combined force deep into the ground, dispersing it beyond reach. This is only useful if the opponent is of less than equal strength to Hvecamet, and in the event that the enemy is of equal strength, Hvecamet will follow through will a quick knife thrust aimed at the best opening that he can spot in the weakened opponent before he (or she) recovers.
{Weapon information}
Mouse Fang
A light, double edged dagger with a small engraving of a mouse on one side of the blade. The hilt is plain and has a strip of leather wrapped tight around it to give a better grip.
[enchantments] None.
{Armour Information}
Spider silk Cape
A plain looking, grey cape that falls to the small of it's wearer's back. Contrary to that which the name implies, the material is simply linen. Several holes have been pressed through the fabric at the neck, through which it is secured.
[enchantments] The material itself is made weightless, the only weight that Hvecamet gains from the garment is that of the clasp that fastens it about his throat. This is particularly useful during the Shift, as it is much easier to transform.
{Accessory Information}
Shiny Pebble
A small, flat pebble with a hole worn through it by the river's embrace. It hangs into the end of a lock of hair, braided with care so that it falls in front of the left ear, resting just below the lobe.
[what it does] Hvecamet uses the pebble to focus his concentration to a better degree of accuracy during form shifting.
{Physical Description}
At 5'5" in height, Hvecamet is not particularly tall, though he makes up for it with his trademark glower- an inclination that is prone to make lesser men stop in their tracks. Or was, before he came to the academy, anyway. The expression on that face is the only thing worthy of note, with his nose too broad, and lips too thin to be considered attractive. Even his cheeks, ritually scarred, seem to attract little notice, though they stand out on his skin like blood over snow.
Many years of living underground has enhanced the pale quality of his skin, so that it burns easily in the sun and is a source of great discomfort during the warmer seasons in which Hvecamet is inclined to rest above ground. His hair is equally pale, a silver grey that would be much better suited to an aged human, and yet seems to match him well. It is cut roughly (as if with a knife) off at the neck, with the front locks covering the demon's tattered ears.
With no significant muscle to speak of, the demon must rely on his wit and other forms to keep him out of trouble, though the former seems to lead the opposite. Only his cape covers his bare chest and thin arms, followed by high waisted trousers of matching grey linen. Brown leather shoes complete his attire, the flat soles a comfortable reminder of the days spent barefoot.
{Background}
Though he would never admit it, Hvecamet can remember very little of his past. He has been alive for years that he does not consider worth the effort that they take to recall, and as such, he concludes that nothing of interest occurred during his sojourn in the depths of his tunnel, otherwise he would surely wish to remember. It is better not to argue with him.
Focusing on what he does remember would bring you to the territory of a town long lost from history, in which a young demon spent his days assaulting the ears of the townsfolk, showering them with riddles. Even then, Hvecamet was alone, but in good spirits, a smile on his face as he bit into a chicken leg, dribbling the grease down his neck as he held onto his prize. An offering. "Be quiet and we'll give you this, you like this don't you? Well, of course he did! It was free, was it not? To travel in such a style throughout time.. It was all that the demon desired. This child-like attitude would stay with him forever. A peculiarly angry child without parents. That was the impression he often struck.
It would be centuries later, long after the demon's body had stopped aging, that he would discover his talent. Awakening from a particularly long sleep, Hvecamet watched a kingfisher dive into the water, and suddenly, he was that kingfisher. Consumed by a curiously liquid feeling, the demon felt his body shift into a twin of his neighbour's own.. And then back again. It sent his mind reeling with shock. Never had he, in all of his immortal years, known that such an act was possible. Nobody had ever said.. Or had they? Surely Hvecamet must have known other demons at some point in his lifetime. Some point long past recollection. With great difficulty, the demon set this incident apart from his mind, and fell back into sleep.
Over the years, Hvecamet would encounter many beings as he left his island, demon, human, and others. With some, he would fight, discovering techniques such as Veret. With others he would simply talk, learning all that he could of the world with a passion born of curiousity and anger. It was in this manner that he discovered Twilight Moon Academy, but that was much later in time.
During the 18th century, the demon experienced another shift. This time, into the form of a mouse. The terrifying change in perception prompted Hvecamet's discovery of fear and as a reminder he had Mouse Fang commissioned. A simple blade for a simple purpose. To defend.
There were many other such shifts before modern day- a serval, a badger, a stoat. When at last he heard of the academy, and the possibility of control, Hvecamet breathed a sigh of relief, thanking the werewolf, who had told him, profusely. Not a moment before the pair had been to fight. "Control your temper, demon. I know somewhere you might go.." Those saving words.. Just like that. He had never been one for company, but the prospect now seemed inviting. It would be pleasing to immerse himself in the stream of life once more, and learn more about the world from which he had so long abstained.
- The 'ca' sound is made in the back of the throat.
Age- Unknown- it's unimportant. He appears to be in his late teenage years or early twenties.
Date of Birth- Unknown.
Homelands- Eusava, a little island, literally near a dozen meters in length and width, that sits in a wide river. As such, the main diet of it's sometime resident is fish. The island stretches deep into the ground and a previous resident had clawed a short moist, tunnel into the soft loam. At the bottom is a small room, the usual residence of Hvecamet. Stones and rounded pebbles rest in each corner, dried wax staining their polished surfaces. The nearest neighbours are a human settlement, from which Hvecamet was able to gain the books that are carefully stowed in a wooden chest half-embedded in the ground of his tunnel. It is unclear where the name came from, but Hvecamet took his second name from it. A tree grows from it's soil, stretching it's many branches over the fast flowing water. It would perhaps be considered a pretty home, if it's resident had not decided to decorate the scenery with sharpened stakes.
Race- Demon
Class- Shapeshifter
Final- (Veret)
Named after someone important that Hvecamet quite literally lost, as the name is all that he remembers of the person. By exerting a large quantity of his own energy, Hvecamet is able to take an equal amount of energy from his opponent and send the combined force deep into the ground, dispersing it beyond reach. This is only useful if the opponent is of less than equal strength to Hvecamet, and in the event that the enemy is of equal strength, Hvecamet will follow through will a quick knife thrust aimed at the best opening that he can spot in the weakened opponent before he (or she) recovers.
{Weapon information}
Mouse Fang
A light, double edged dagger with a small engraving of a mouse on one side of the blade. The hilt is plain and has a strip of leather wrapped tight around it to give a better grip.
[enchantments] None.
{Armour Information}
Spider silk Cape
A plain looking, grey cape that falls to the small of it's wearer's back. Contrary to that which the name implies, the material is simply linen. Several holes have been pressed through the fabric at the neck, through which it is secured.
[enchantments] The material itself is made weightless, the only weight that Hvecamet gains from the garment is that of the clasp that fastens it about his throat. This is particularly useful during the Shift, as it is much easier to transform.
{Accessory Information}
Shiny Pebble
A small, flat pebble with a hole worn through it by the river's embrace. It hangs into the end of a lock of hair, braided with care so that it falls in front of the left ear, resting just below the lobe.
[what it does] Hvecamet uses the pebble to focus his concentration to a better degree of accuracy during form shifting.
{Physical Description}
At 5'5" in height, Hvecamet is not particularly tall, though he makes up for it with his trademark glower- an inclination that is prone to make lesser men stop in their tracks. Or was, before he came to the academy, anyway. The expression on that face is the only thing worthy of note, with his nose too broad, and lips too thin to be considered attractive. Even his cheeks, ritually scarred, seem to attract little notice, though they stand out on his skin like blood over snow.
Many years of living underground has enhanced the pale quality of his skin, so that it burns easily in the sun and is a source of great discomfort during the warmer seasons in which Hvecamet is inclined to rest above ground. His hair is equally pale, a silver grey that would be much better suited to an aged human, and yet seems to match him well. It is cut roughly (as if with a knife) off at the neck, with the front locks covering the demon's tattered ears.
With no significant muscle to speak of, the demon must rely on his wit and other forms to keep him out of trouble, though the former seems to lead the opposite. Only his cape covers his bare chest and thin arms, followed by high waisted trousers of matching grey linen. Brown leather shoes complete his attire, the flat soles a comfortable reminder of the days spent barefoot.
{Background}
Though he would never admit it, Hvecamet can remember very little of his past. He has been alive for years that he does not consider worth the effort that they take to recall, and as such, he concludes that nothing of interest occurred during his sojourn in the depths of his tunnel, otherwise he would surely wish to remember. It is better not to argue with him.
Focusing on what he does remember would bring you to the territory of a town long lost from history, in which a young demon spent his days assaulting the ears of the townsfolk, showering them with riddles. Even then, Hvecamet was alone, but in good spirits, a smile on his face as he bit into a chicken leg, dribbling the grease down his neck as he held onto his prize. An offering. "Be quiet and we'll give you this, you like this don't you? Well, of course he did! It was free, was it not? To travel in such a style throughout time.. It was all that the demon desired. This child-like attitude would stay with him forever. A peculiarly angry child without parents. That was the impression he often struck.
It would be centuries later, long after the demon's body had stopped aging, that he would discover his talent. Awakening from a particularly long sleep, Hvecamet watched a kingfisher dive into the water, and suddenly, he was that kingfisher. Consumed by a curiously liquid feeling, the demon felt his body shift into a twin of his neighbour's own.. And then back again. It sent his mind reeling with shock. Never had he, in all of his immortal years, known that such an act was possible. Nobody had ever said.. Or had they? Surely Hvecamet must have known other demons at some point in his lifetime. Some point long past recollection. With great difficulty, the demon set this incident apart from his mind, and fell back into sleep.
Over the years, Hvecamet would encounter many beings as he left his island, demon, human, and others. With some, he would fight, discovering techniques such as Veret. With others he would simply talk, learning all that he could of the world with a passion born of curiousity and anger. It was in this manner that he discovered Twilight Moon Academy, but that was much later in time.
During the 18th century, the demon experienced another shift. This time, into the form of a mouse. The terrifying change in perception prompted Hvecamet's discovery of fear and as a reminder he had Mouse Fang commissioned. A simple blade for a simple purpose. To defend.
There were many other such shifts before modern day- a serval, a badger, a stoat. When at last he heard of the academy, and the possibility of control, Hvecamet breathed a sigh of relief, thanking the werewolf, who had told him, profusely. Not a moment before the pair had been to fight. "Control your temper, demon. I know somewhere you might go.." Those saving words.. Just like that. He had never been one for company, but the prospect now seemed inviting. It would be pleasing to immerse himself in the stream of life once more, and learn more about the world from which he had so long abstained.
