Daelyn Caliban

[Daelyn Caliban]

Daelyn Caliban Appearance Race: Human Gender: Male Age: 22 Birthday: Winter 18, 490AV Birthplace: Sunberth Appearance: Lantern-jawed, blue-eyed, and conventionally handsome. He keeps his hair trimmed and absentmindedly pushed to one side of his head or another. Above his left eyebrow is a small scar. Occasionally, he'll grow a short beard that comes in the same golden hue as his hair. He keeps in good shape. Standing at a little over six foot, he weighs in at almost two hundred pounds, most of which is muscle developed while training with the longsword. Each hand still bears the mark of his Reimancy initiation, something he tries his hardest to keep unnoticed. The other trait which he wishes to keep under wraps is the entwined flames that climb from his right wrist to the inside of the elbow. The flames are numerous colors, and twist and knot in a way that even he can't follow. He tries his hardest to keep this arm covered at all times, no matter the situation. Pre-Creation Personality - Daelyn is, at heart, a good man. Despite the tragedies he's suffered, he tries his hardest to put on a brave face and keep a...somewhat positive attitude. Most of it is an act, but that doesn't mean that he's a miserable person. He can still take in the sight of a particularly beautiful woman or one of life's many other little pleasures and feel that there's a still a bit of good left in the world. He's not the best with people. He's inadvertently rude, occasionally hot tempered, and tongue-tied around women he finds the least bit attractive. However, if one were to be able to get over those faults, they'd find a loyal and faithful friend, unafraid to die for those closest to him. Post-Creation PersonalityThis particular bit of the CS is in constant flux, depending on current situations and events in Daelyn's lives, as well as some key events which may alter his personality permanently. WIP Pre-Creation History "I don't know what my parents were thinking, trying to start a family in Sunberth. No place worse for it...least that's how I see it. But that's neither here nor there. My father trained guards for the merchant caravans that came through. He'd been one for a while, when he was a younger man. That was before he lost half his hand in a tussle with a pair of slavers from Ravok. My father lost a few fingers. From what I'd heard, they were still finding pieces of those two in the countryside around the city. Serves 'em right if you ask me. My mother was a healer. She taught me everything she could about it, especially once my father decided I was old enough to learn to swing a sword. Every night, after my father and I had trained, mother would take my sister and I to the edge of the city to search for herbs she could use for poultices, or teas, or whatever else she was grinding up that day. My parents did well enough. They really did. We didn't have a lot, but we had enough to get by, and we were happy for a while. That all changed when I was twelve years old. That was when my father introduced me to Reimancy. He said that it'd been a secret of his family since his great-great-grandfather had taught his son. It had been passed down to each son; a family secret with deadly consequences. I can still remember the day I was initiated. It's...not...my favorite thing to talk about. I've still got the scars on my hands. Gods but it hurt. I swear I must have lain on the floor and shaken and jerked for hours. My father told me it was only a few minutes. Heh. Worst petchin' minutes of my life. After that, my life consisted of training. I trained with the sword. I learned about medicinal plants and their applications. I learned how to set bones and stitch up wounds, and slowly but surely, I learned how to control Res. Unfortunately, my training was cut short. I'm not sure what all transpired, but I know my father was found out. The mob that tore through our house and cut him down in front of my family made that clear. He bought us enough time to escape, and he took more than his fair share of his murderers to Hell with him. The last I remember of Sunberth was our little home going up in a raging inferno. We went to Syliras. My mother had a spinster aunt who had always treated her like her own child. Fate's cruel though, and she fell ill a few days outside of the city. She left me with a letter to our aunt, and a request on her lips. 'Take care of your sister. She'll need you now more than ever'. That was the last thing she ever said to me. I carried my sister the last wheels to Syliras in my arms. The journey had just about done her in, but our aunt was quick to take care of that. She was a bit of an eccentric, but she loved us with all her heart. She kept us fed and clothed, and when the time came, she sent my sister to the University of Zeltiva to study. I'd never been more proud of her. I thought that life had turned itself around, that we'd all get to settle down and live out the rest of our days peacefully. What a petchin' fool I was. Our aunt finally passed...in some sort of magical...accident...thing. I'm honestly not sure what happened. She was there one minute, muttering something about teleporting herself across the world, and then she was nothing more than a pile of dust. I was sad, but at the same time...I knew that was exactly how she would've wanted to go. I left for Zeltiva the next day to fetch my sister. It was the Summer of 512. We were on our way back to Syliras when everything fell apart. I don't remember a lot of it. I know we were waylaid. I know I tried my hardest to fight, with my sword, with magic, with everything I had. It wasn't enough. I remember the hilt of a sword, but that's about it. I guess they thought I was dead. I woke up face down in a puddle of mud, with an aching head and a steady stream of blood trickling into my eye. That wasn't all though. Oh no. Not by a petchin' long shot. I woke up marked; swirling flames of all colors crawled up my arm from the wrist to the elbow. The mark of Ivak. That's another thing I try to keep to myself. Ivak's not the most popular petcher on the planet, after his divine jailbreak caused the Djed Storm in the following Spring. That's why I've always got to wear long sleeves. Ivak's followers aren't terribly popular either. Makes the Summer's right petchin' awful. It's been over a year since I've seen her, but I haven't given up hope yet. I'll find her. Even if I have to blast the petchin' world apart. I'll find her." Post-Creation History WIP Language Fluent Language: Common Skills Skill EXP Total Proficiency Weapon: Longsword 26SP 26/100 Competent Medicine 11 SP, 15 RB 26/100 Competent Herbalism 7 SP 7/100 Novice Reimancy: Fire 6 SP 6/100 Novice Observation *, *, *, * 5/100 Novice Socialization *, *, * 3/100 Novice Rhetoric *, * 3/100 Novice Interrogation *, * 2/100 Novice Swimming * 1/100 Novice Gnosis Marks -Mark of Ivak, Level 1, OOCSee SS thread Lores Medicinal plants in the Syliran Wild Understanding human anatomy Cannon Fodder 101 Anticipating the Worst Blast you Ivak! Selene's Lesson, Be More Social Vantha Eyes Change Colors Petch is my favorite word Lyrri Snowsong: The Vantha Bard Crona Aguire: Warrior Woman Pretty woman, swimming in the pool, pretty woman... Hadyn Skellig: Sight For Sore Eyes Is it steamy in here or just you? Filled With Purpose Praying to Ivak Missing Selene Possessions 1 Set of Clothing -Simple Shirt -Simple Pants -Simple Undergarments -Simple Cloak or Coat -Simple Boots 1 Waterskin 1 Backpack which contains: -Comb (Wood) -Brush (Wood) -Soap -Razor -Balanced Rations (1 Week's worth) -1 eating knife -Flint & Steel Longsword Herbalist/Botanist Toolkit Mortar and Pestle Healer's Kit Heirloom: A pocket-sized sketch of his sister, which he shows to anyone who may have seen her. Housing Location: Syliras House: -20x20 apartment in the depths of Syliras, furnished with the following: hearth, bunk, small table, chair, chest Ledger Purchase Cost Total Starting +100 GM 100 GM Longsword -15 GM 85 GM Mortar and Pestle -1 GM 84 GM Toolkit: Herbalist/Botanist -20 GM 64 GM Healer's Kit -50 GM 14 GM Entrance Fee: Soothing Waters -8 SM 13 GM 92 SM Pitcher of Wine & 2 Ales -2 SM 8 CM 13GM 89 SM 92 CM Living Expense: Poor -45 GM -31GM 11 SM 8 CM Employment: Stormhold Salves Position: Herbalist Thread List None yet!