![[Verified by Crosspatch]](./images/checkmark.png "[Verified by Crosspatch]")
Telrin
human boychild
born on 32nd of summer, 502 a.v
eleven years of age
human boychild
born on 32nd of summer, 502 a.v
eleven years of age
appearanceWith cheeks still round with youth and baby fat, Telrin is eleven years old and looks it. Among other children of such an age, he could hardly be said to stand out; with brown hair and brown eyes that might seem a bit too deep for his years, he appears for all the world to a casual observer as nothing more than an innocent boy. Perhaps it is for this reason that he stands out all the more in the wilderness; an independent creature, he is most often found hovering between civilization and the still-savage lands that surround it, belonging to both and neither. He is as at ease in his chosen environment as another child might be in their backyard, to the bemusement of most who happen upon him. He does not quail at the sight of blood or gore; indeed, he skins and processes whatever kills he can spare, and will often give a quizzical look to those who find themselves sickened by such a sight. And yet, even in such a harsh environment Telrin retains an aura of innocence and naivete; he is still a young thing, unwise to the ways of the world and its cruelties. The wonder with which he sees everything around him is that of a child, plain and simple, which can almost seem a paradox to his comfort in the outdoors.
Telrin is usually dressed in deerskin tunic and breeches, and he prefers soft-leather moccasins to the tough-tanned boots more aged hunters might wear. His tunic, or rather, his vest pretending to be a tunic, is vaguely decorated at the shoulders but otherwise unembellished. His hair is chopped off above the shoulder so it doesn't get caught with things, though remains long enough to tuck behind his ear to keep it out of the way. He skin is fair, but is in the process of tanning, and while lean muscle and wiry tendon have begun to form he has yet to gain real musculature. Since he tans hides himself, Telrin's hands are incredibly soft for his lifestyle. If one manages to look closely, they might see the knotted scars on both of his palms, though these do not hinder his dexterity and are often ignored entirely. He looks exactly as old as he is, which really isn't that old at all.
character concept
Telrin is a quiet boy, as far as eleven-year-olds go. He prefers his own company, though is not exactly anti-social; he’s pleasant enough to anyone that he might happen upon, but he does not usually go out of his way to interact with people he doesn’t explicitly need to. In general, he find himself somewhere in the spectrum of “live and let live;” he won’t go messing around in your business and doesn’t want you to go messing around in his. That being said, there are certain kinds of people he will go great lengths to avoid; he vehemently distrusts anything resembling magic, and though he is not a confrontational person he will try to put as much distance as possible between himself and any magic he discovers.
Telrin is also easily annoyed by people that assume they know better than him. He has no problems with people that actually do know better than him, since he knows that he isn’t particularly worldly as eleven years of age, but someone must prove to him that they know more than him if they expect him to believe it. People that assume to know better of him simply because they’re older are the kind he absolutely loathes, and will receive little sympathy from him if they get lost in the great outdoors. He forgives easily, however, if someone apologizes, and has great respect for anyone with the ability to admit that they are wrong.
Telrin leans towards the dry side of wit, always able to deliver a flat remark that doesn’t sound like a joke unless you think about it; he smiles rarely, and laughs even less. He takes pride in what he does, even though his skills have a great deal of room for improvement, and though he may not show it he greatly enjoys being complimented. He’s an amiable boy to those that do not irritate him, and is always ready to share his camp in exchange for stories or good conversation. He is endlessly curious about things he doesn’t know, and is willing to try anything once.
Telrin is a quiet boy, as far as eleven-year-olds go. He prefers his own company, though is not exactly anti-social; he’s pleasant enough to anyone that he might happen upon, but he does not usually go out of his way to interact with people he doesn’t explicitly need to. In general, he find himself somewhere in the spectrum of “live and let live;” he won’t go messing around in your business and doesn’t want you to go messing around in his. That being said, there are certain kinds of people he will go great lengths to avoid; he vehemently distrusts anything resembling magic, and though he is not a confrontational person he will try to put as much distance as possible between himself and any magic he discovers.
Telrin is also easily annoyed by people that assume they know better than him. He has no problems with people that actually do know better than him, since he knows that he isn’t particularly worldly as eleven years of age, but someone must prove to him that they know more than him if they expect him to believe it. People that assume to know better of him simply because they’re older are the kind he absolutely loathes, and will receive little sympathy from him if they get lost in the great outdoors. He forgives easily, however, if someone apologizes, and has great respect for anyone with the ability to admit that they are wrong.
Telrin leans towards the dry side of wit, always able to deliver a flat remark that doesn’t sound like a joke unless you think about it; he smiles rarely, and laughs even less. He takes pride in what he does, even though his skills have a great deal of room for improvement, and though he may not show it he greatly enjoys being complimented. He’s an amiable boy to those that do not irritate him, and is always ready to share his camp in exchange for stories or good conversation. He is endlessly curious about things he doesn’t know, and is willing to try anything once.
history
Telrin was born in the city of Zeltiva in the spring of five-hundred and two a.v. His father was a reimancy instructor at the University, and one that often came under scrutiny for his habits of initiating students that he thought were “worthy,” despite the establishment’s preference for theory over practice. But Talanar was a clever man, if nothing else, and always managed to scrape by with well-crafted excuses and explanations. Only his wife knew the true extent of his overgiving, and when he came of age, so did Telrin. Hypnotized by reimancy and the power it could yield, Talanar was obsessed with finding the perfect student to bestow what he thought was his unbelievable store of knowledge upon. When his eagerness to find this person caused a hiccup in an initiation ritual, killing the initiate, Talanar was excused from his post and told in no uncertain terms to never set foot on the University campus again. They made preparations to cart him away to their asylum, but Telrin’s mother, very much in love with Talanar even in spite of his unhealthy mind, begged them to let him remain free. Bearing her own clever tongue, she managed to persuade Talanar’s former superiors that she and Telrin could not possibly survive on their own, and that they would make sure he didn’t threaten those around him. The family was reluctantly left in peace.
Talanar, however, would not give up his dreams so easily. He now turned to Telrin, demanding that he learn about magic and history and all that he had wanted his former students to learn. His mother did his best to shield her son from such knowledge, often taking him aside when Talanar wasn’t looking and reassuring him that he didn’t have to if he didn’t want to. His mother’s worry frightened him, but not nearly as much as his father’s obsession; as lesson after lesson in literature and theory passed by, he resolved to never learn what his father wanted him to. He obeyed, but made a point to retain little of what he was taught, much to Talanar’s anger. Then, in Telrin’s ninth year, Talanar overheard his mother telling him not to learn what he did not wish to. Overcome with rage, Talanar used magic to threaten his wife, telling her that Telrin was his son, living in his house, and that as long as Talanar provided than the boy would obey him. He soon gave too much of himself, and in a fit of overgiving he killed the woman.
Telrin never found out what happened to his mother’s body, and he never garnered the courage to ask. This time, the effects of overgiving did not wear off. Talanar demanded that the boy learn magic, because Talanar was the one who gave him food and clothing and shelter and therefore Telrin was to obey him. At those words, true as they were coming from a wizard’s mouth, Telrin decided that he would become his own person, never to depend on his father again. He began to venture outside the city, into the mountains and the forests within them, often not coming home until after sunset. He sought out the hunters that ranged there, spoke with them, listened to their stories and began to learn their ways. And still his father threatened, ordered, and still Telrin rebelled. He would stay home when forced to, would hear the lessons, read the books and forget the words. When he was ten, Talanar told him that if he did not learn, he would not receive new clothes when the winter came. Telrin learned to sew his own. If he did not learn, he would not be allowed to eat his father’s food. Telrin learned to hunt. And finally, if he did not learn, Telrin would never again be welcomed in his father’s house. Telrin packed up what little he had and left.
He began to live in World’s End Grotto, exchanging a warm bed in the attic for his budding skills as a hunter. He provided meat and wild plants for the kitchen, and was allowed to sleep in the attic, where a little bed was tucked away right next to the chimney chute so it would remain warm even when the cold season came. A bit cramped, yes, but cozy, and something that Telrin could depend on. It wasn’t quite an easy life, but it was a good one, to be sure.
His father found him a season later. After demanding that his son be returned to him, the wizard managed to hypnotize the owners into throwing the boy out, and the child was dragged back to his house. Done with waiting, his father trapped Telrin in a corner and forcefully initiated him into reimancy just as the guards burst into the building. Talanar had been given enough second chances, and now there was no one to vouch for him. He was taken to the asylum, and Telrin was taken to the University infirmary. The initiation had not been fatal, and the boy was healthy and recovered nicely. His mind, however, was something altogether different. He became tense, distrustful of anything that even looked like magic. When wizards offered to explain what had happened to him, he refused to listen. He now had the ability to control res, but his stubborn refusal to learn had paid off; he did not know what res was, and even when more stable reimancers offered him instruction he turned them away. He had sworn to himself and to his mother that he would never learn magic, and it was an oath he intended to keep. As soon as he was able, Telrin left the infirmary, much to the dismay of the adults who believed him to be in need of a new caretaker. He gathered what little he had saved, got himself a horse and hitched a ride on a departing caravan; he was done with his father, done with magic and done with Zeltiva.
Telrin was born in the city of Zeltiva in the spring of five-hundred and two a.v. His father was a reimancy instructor at the University, and one that often came under scrutiny for his habits of initiating students that he thought were “worthy,” despite the establishment’s preference for theory over practice. But Talanar was a clever man, if nothing else, and always managed to scrape by with well-crafted excuses and explanations. Only his wife knew the true extent of his overgiving, and when he came of age, so did Telrin. Hypnotized by reimancy and the power it could yield, Talanar was obsessed with finding the perfect student to bestow what he thought was his unbelievable store of knowledge upon. When his eagerness to find this person caused a hiccup in an initiation ritual, killing the initiate, Talanar was excused from his post and told in no uncertain terms to never set foot on the University campus again. They made preparations to cart him away to their asylum, but Telrin’s mother, very much in love with Talanar even in spite of his unhealthy mind, begged them to let him remain free. Bearing her own clever tongue, she managed to persuade Talanar’s former superiors that she and Telrin could not possibly survive on their own, and that they would make sure he didn’t threaten those around him. The family was reluctantly left in peace.
Talanar, however, would not give up his dreams so easily. He now turned to Telrin, demanding that he learn about magic and history and all that he had wanted his former students to learn. His mother did his best to shield her son from such knowledge, often taking him aside when Talanar wasn’t looking and reassuring him that he didn’t have to if he didn’t want to. His mother’s worry frightened him, but not nearly as much as his father’s obsession; as lesson after lesson in literature and theory passed by, he resolved to never learn what his father wanted him to. He obeyed, but made a point to retain little of what he was taught, much to Talanar’s anger. Then, in Telrin’s ninth year, Talanar overheard his mother telling him not to learn what he did not wish to. Overcome with rage, Talanar used magic to threaten his wife, telling her that Telrin was his son, living in his house, and that as long as Talanar provided than the boy would obey him. He soon gave too much of himself, and in a fit of overgiving he killed the woman.
Telrin never found out what happened to his mother’s body, and he never garnered the courage to ask. This time, the effects of overgiving did not wear off. Talanar demanded that the boy learn magic, because Talanar was the one who gave him food and clothing and shelter and therefore Telrin was to obey him. At those words, true as they were coming from a wizard’s mouth, Telrin decided that he would become his own person, never to depend on his father again. He began to venture outside the city, into the mountains and the forests within them, often not coming home until after sunset. He sought out the hunters that ranged there, spoke with them, listened to their stories and began to learn their ways. And still his father threatened, ordered, and still Telrin rebelled. He would stay home when forced to, would hear the lessons, read the books and forget the words. When he was ten, Talanar told him that if he did not learn, he would not receive new clothes when the winter came. Telrin learned to sew his own. If he did not learn, he would not be allowed to eat his father’s food. Telrin learned to hunt. And finally, if he did not learn, Telrin would never again be welcomed in his father’s house. Telrin packed up what little he had and left.
He began to live in World’s End Grotto, exchanging a warm bed in the attic for his budding skills as a hunter. He provided meat and wild plants for the kitchen, and was allowed to sleep in the attic, where a little bed was tucked away right next to the chimney chute so it would remain warm even when the cold season came. A bit cramped, yes, but cozy, and something that Telrin could depend on. It wasn’t quite an easy life, but it was a good one, to be sure.
His father found him a season later. After demanding that his son be returned to him, the wizard managed to hypnotize the owners into throwing the boy out, and the child was dragged back to his house. Done with waiting, his father trapped Telrin in a corner and forcefully initiated him into reimancy just as the guards burst into the building. Talanar had been given enough second chances, and now there was no one to vouch for him. He was taken to the asylum, and Telrin was taken to the University infirmary. The initiation had not been fatal, and the boy was healthy and recovered nicely. His mind, however, was something altogether different. He became tense, distrustful of anything that even looked like magic. When wizards offered to explain what had happened to him, he refused to listen. He now had the ability to control res, but his stubborn refusal to learn had paid off; he did not know what res was, and even when more stable reimancers offered him instruction he turned them away. He had sworn to himself and to his mother that he would never learn magic, and it was an oath he intended to keep. As soon as he was able, Telrin left the infirmary, much to the dismay of the adults who believed him to be in need of a new caretaker. He gathered what little he had saved, got himself a horse and hitched a ride on a departing caravan; he was done with his father, done with magic and done with Zeltiva.
skills
| skill | total | sp | rb | xp | proficiency |
| hunting | 19 | 0 | 15 | 4 | novice |
| wilderness survival | 16 | 15 | 0 | 1 | novice |
| weapon(shortbow) | 16 | 10 | 0 | 6 | novice |
| tracking | 6 | 5 | 0 | 1 | novice |
| sewing | 5 | 5 | 0 | 0 | novice |
| tanning | 5 | 5 | 0 | 0 | novice |
| riding | 5 | 5 | 0 | 0 | novice |
| reimancy | 5 | 5 | 0 | 0 | novice |
| observation | 4 | 0 | 0 | 4 | novice |
| rhetoric | 2 | 0 | 0 | 2 | novice |
| interrogation | 1 | 0 | 0 | 1 | novice |
| intelligence | 1 | 0 | 0 | 1 | novice |
| planning | 1 | 0 | 0 | 1 | novice |
| skinning | 1 | 0 | 0 | 1 | novice |
| cooking | 1 | 0 | 0 | 1 | novice |
| climbing | 1 | 0 | 0 | 1 | novice |
lores
A Stranger Interrupts Dinner Prep
Blue Jack: Travlin' Man
Crawfish: Watch The Hands
Edible plants of the Sylira region
Geography: Bronze Woods
Halona is a Kelvic Wolf
Halona wounded by arrow
How to Put a Possum on a Spit
Hunting For Crawfish
Hunting: Shooting deer in flank is bad
It's Just a Flesh Wound
Keeping a Fire going
Kizora is a Kelvic Raven
Kizora: Screams like a Bird, not quite right
Running: A Viable Defense
Skinning a Possum: Cutting from top to bottom
Tanning using animal brains
Try try again
Blue Jack: Travlin' Man
Crawfish: Watch The Hands
Edible plants of the Sylira region
Geography: Bronze Woods
Halona is a Kelvic Wolf
Halona wounded by arrow
How to Put a Possum on a Spit
Hunting For Crawfish
Hunting: Shooting deer in flank is bad
It's Just a Flesh Wound
Keeping a Fire going
Kizora is a Kelvic Raven
Kizora: Screams like a Bird, not quite right
Running: A Viable Defense
Skinning a Possum: Cutting from top to bottom
Tanning using animal brains
Try try again
languages
Common, fluent
Ancient Language, basic
Ancient Language, basic
equipment
tunic
breeches
soft boots
cloak
waterskin
backpack which contains:
large tent (4 person)
large tarp
100 ft of rope
flint & steel
lantern
2 torches
bedroll
blanket
fishing tackle & hooks
cast-iron pot, 2-gallon
terrible quality tanned possum skin
iron brooch (heirloom)
shortbow
arrows (20)
quiver
archer's glove
archer's gauntlet
hunter's toolkit
tunic
breeches
soft boots
cloak
waterskin
backpack which contains:
comb
brush
razor
1lb of soap
food for a week
an eating knife
flint & Steel
brush
razor
1lb of soap
food for a week
an eating knife
flint & Steel
large tent (4 person)
large tarp
100 ft of rope
flint & steel
lantern
2 torches
bedroll
blanket
fishing tackle & hooks
cast-iron pot, 2-gallon
terrible quality tanned possum skin
saddle
saddle blanket
saddlebags
bridle
halter
saddle blanket
saddlebags
bridle
halter
iron brooch (heirloom)
shortbow
arrows (20)
quiver
archer's glove
archer's gauntlet
hunter's toolkit
ledger
|
fall 513
7th - The Fall of Summer (Krahe)
29th - Stranger Danger (solo)
31st - Hunting a hunter (Robert)
56th - Work, Play, Or Just Annoying? (solo)
80th - Axes for Taxes (Hadyn)
29th - Stranger Danger (solo)
+2 observation, +1 skinning, +1 wilderness Survival, +1 cooking, +1 climbing
31st - Hunting a hunter (Robert)
+2 observation, +2 rhetoric, +1 hunting, +1 interrogation, +1 intelligence, +1 planning
56th - Work, Play, Or Just Annoying? (solo)
+2 hunting, +4 weapon(shortbow)
80th - Axes for Taxes (Hadyn)
winter 513
7th - Frost In The Air
54th - Warmth in Winter (Ellen)
61st - [Bronze Woods] Hunters of a Different Feather
+1 tracking, +1 hunting , +2 weapon(shortbow)
54th - Warmth in Winter (Ellen)
61st - [Bronze Woods] Hunters of a Different Feather
