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Basics
Race: Human, Drykas
Gender: Male
Age: Nineteen
Birthday: The third day of spring, 495 AV.
Birthplace: The Sea of Grass, Endrykas
Fluent Language: Pavi
Basic Language: Common
Poor Language: None (I don't want it, thanks)
Gender: Male
Age: Nineteen
Birthday: The third day of spring, 495 AV.
Birthplace: The Sea of Grass, Endrykas
Fluent Language: Pavi
Basic Language: Common
Poor Language: None (I don't want it, thanks)
______________
Appearance:
dark blonde, curly hair - pale green eyes - lightly tanned skin - soft smile - slim build
- 5 feet and 8 inches tall
- 150 pounds
- little muscle and little fat
______________
Personality:
wistful - deviant - passionate - honest - idealistic - lonely - seeking - talentless - stubborn - dreamer
Appearance:
dark blonde, curly hair - pale green eyes - lightly tanned skin - soft smile - slim build
- 5 feet and 8 inches tall
- 150 pounds
- little muscle and little fat
______________
Personality:
wistful - deviant - passionate - honest - idealistic - lonely - seeking - talentless - stubborn - dreamer
Concept
Scand is a child left in the dark, a darkness he chose for himself, fully aware of the consequences. He is interested in much, skilled in little, and proficient in nothing but bringing shame to his family. His life has been lonely, his own fault, but in the loneliness amidst all those he had counted and still counts as family, Scand searches for absolution. He desires to be the child his father wishes he was, but not in such a way that compromises his self, a paradox unconquerable. He is light of heart but often heavy of mood, smiling with a sadness set deep within his soul. He loves himself, but his self is not loved by others. Not especially kind or soft hearted, Scand treats others with respect and honor due. Unlike many of his brothers among the Drykas, Scand is more soft spoken, delicate even. His mind is expansive in the sense that he wishes to learn, but his talent stays him from advancing too far beyond basic concepts. He dreams and dreams and dreams, finding solace to his self-imposed plight within the silken throes of the night.
History
Scand was born a proud member of the Skycrown family under the Diamond Clan. While he was not the most able of children, he was quick enough on his feet that dangers were always no more than a step behind him. He had a youthful spirit, a spark of life that burned with an intensity that few could control. His zealousness was curbed by his inadequacies, however. The only son of Ristryn Skycrown, who had been blessed with many daughters, Scand was the weakest of the seven. Even his younger sisters, twins in face and mind, proved better warriors and huntresses. His heart beat to a different rhythm, and while his father pushed him to learn a craft that he might be useful in some way, Scand seemed doomed to dream. He tried, he certainly did, to find something that he could contribute him. In the end, it was determined that menial labor and the occasional form of entertainment were best suited for him. He became a jester of sorts, his lack of ability for anything worthwhile earning him the brunt of many a joke. Yet, in spite of this, Scand was happy enough. He had earned his place alongside the rest of his brethren, and while it was not glamorous, it was his own.
That changed when Cain arrived in the tent city. He was, in a word, a dream. Scand had never seen a man quite like him, and it was not his face or body that held sway over his heart, but the eyes. He had the most beautiful of eyes, like the children of Zintila had been plucked from her loom and set within the beautiful features of the foreigner's face. The day he arrived was the day that Scand's life shifted from one of simplicity to one of shame. His love burned hot, and Cain's smile was as receptive as his own body. It was not long before his father discovered his passions, and though he begged, threatened, and roared at him, Scand was set upon his love, his life. Cain was not. He left within the next season, quietly, and Scand was left behind, his heart broken but spirit in tact. He had found a part of himself, and though it gained him nothing but ill-will, he embodied it no matter. The nature of his affair was well known to the other Drykas, and though Ristryn sought for Scand a wife to curb his foolishness, none would have him and he would have none.
In his childhood, however, Scand had heard the tales of his uncle, a man so distraught by the death of his wife and the survival of her child that he whisked himself and the baby away, leaving behind his family and the duties he had been set to inherent. After his transgressions and repeated refusal to become that which he knew he was not, Scand found he empathized with his uncle, with the child. They had left, for better or for worse, something that he did not have the strength to do. The world was massive, and though he did not belong with the horseclans, neither did he belong with those of the outside world, of castles of stone and cities of sparkling springs. He was alone, surrounded by his family. He often sat in the silence of night, listening to the stillness of the stars and wondering what the child might have become. He liked to imagine his lost brother as a valiant warrior, greater and more powerful than any Drykas. Sometimes he imagined him a sage with wisdom so great and deep, even the gods had reason for jealousy. He idolized him, to an extent: the ideal of the aberrant. In some way, Scand believed that if the man in his dreams were to be possible, there was hope for his redemption yet.
The years passed, and while Scand is still a part of the Skycrown pavilion, he is hardly considered one of its members. His refusal to marry has left him in an undesirable state, and his continued aptitude for any craft has made him a nuisance. He works to better himself in any way he can, not suited for the task but having little option left to him. The fire of life that once burned in him has been muted, distilled by the harsh realities of the life he has chosen. He still dreams of Kyron, the figure head of his state of disgrace. In some ways, the man is a god in and of himself, occasionally offered up the simple prayer for the strength to run away, though it is never answered. Scand is not so foolish as to believe himself capable of such a feat, and even those who visit know full well he would be hard pressed to survive. Still, each new face Scand greets with the earnest desire for freedom from his life, for a chance to start a new. He has yet to find it, but both he and his father (though he would never say it) wish for it every time a new face is seen among the tents.
That changed when Cain arrived in the tent city. He was, in a word, a dream. Scand had never seen a man quite like him, and it was not his face or body that held sway over his heart, but the eyes. He had the most beautiful of eyes, like the children of Zintila had been plucked from her loom and set within the beautiful features of the foreigner's face. The day he arrived was the day that Scand's life shifted from one of simplicity to one of shame. His love burned hot, and Cain's smile was as receptive as his own body. It was not long before his father discovered his passions, and though he begged, threatened, and roared at him, Scand was set upon his love, his life. Cain was not. He left within the next season, quietly, and Scand was left behind, his heart broken but spirit in tact. He had found a part of himself, and though it gained him nothing but ill-will, he embodied it no matter. The nature of his affair was well known to the other Drykas, and though Ristryn sought for Scand a wife to curb his foolishness, none would have him and he would have none.
In his childhood, however, Scand had heard the tales of his uncle, a man so distraught by the death of his wife and the survival of her child that he whisked himself and the baby away, leaving behind his family and the duties he had been set to inherent. After his transgressions and repeated refusal to become that which he knew he was not, Scand found he empathized with his uncle, with the child. They had left, for better or for worse, something that he did not have the strength to do. The world was massive, and though he did not belong with the horseclans, neither did he belong with those of the outside world, of castles of stone and cities of sparkling springs. He was alone, surrounded by his family. He often sat in the silence of night, listening to the stillness of the stars and wondering what the child might have become. He liked to imagine his lost brother as a valiant warrior, greater and more powerful than any Drykas. Sometimes he imagined him a sage with wisdom so great and deep, even the gods had reason for jealousy. He idolized him, to an extent: the ideal of the aberrant. In some way, Scand believed that if the man in his dreams were to be possible, there was hope for his redemption yet.
The years passed, and while Scand is still a part of the Skycrown pavilion, he is hardly considered one of its members. His refusal to marry has left him in an undesirable state, and his continued aptitude for any craft has made him a nuisance. He works to better himself in any way he can, not suited for the task but having little option left to him. The fire of life that once burned in him has been muted, distilled by the harsh realities of the life he has chosen. He still dreams of Kyron, the figure head of his state of disgrace. In some ways, the man is a god in and of himself, occasionally offered up the simple prayer for the strength to run away, though it is never answered. Scand is not so foolish as to believe himself capable of such a feat, and even those who visit know full well he would be hard pressed to survive. Still, each new face Scand greets with the earnest desire for freedom from his life, for a chance to start a new. He has yet to find it, but both he and his father (though he would never say it) wish for it every time a new face is seen among the tents.
Possessions
1 Set of Clothing
-Simple Shirt
-Simple Pants
-Simple Undergarments
-Simple Cloak
-Simple Boots
1 Waterskin
1 Backpack which contains:
-Comb (Metal)
-Brush (Metal)
-Soap
-Razor
-Balanced Rations (1 Week’s Worth)
-1 eating knife
-Flint & Steel (2)
-1 large tent (4 person)
-large tarp,
-100 ft of rope
-lantern
-2 torches
-bedroll
-blanket
-fishing tackle & hooks
-a compass
-a riding horse (Tidal Pony)
-a full set of tack
-a large set of saddlebags
-Simple Shirt
-Simple Pants
-Simple Undergarments
-Simple Cloak
-Simple Boots
1 Waterskin
1 Backpack which contains:
-Comb (Metal)
-Brush (Metal)
-Soap
-Razor
-Balanced Rations (1 Week’s Worth)
-1 eating knife
-Flint & Steel (2)
-1 large tent (4 person)
-large tarp,
-100 ft of rope
-lantern
-2 torches
-bedroll
-blanket
-fishing tackle & hooks
-a compass
-a riding horse (Tidal Pony)
-a full set of tack
-a large set of saddlebags
Heirloom: Cain's Ring: a simple iron band.
Ledger
| ]Purchase | Cost | Total |
| Starting | +100 GM | 100 GM |
| Winter 514 | - 45 GM | 65 GM |
Housing
House: The Skycrown Pavillion
1 large tent (4 person), large tarp, 100 ft of rope, flint & steel, lantern, 2 torches, bedroll, blanket, fishing tackle & hooks, a compass, a riding horse (of 200gm or less), a full set of tack, and a large set of saddlebags.
