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 Tristan Bellum

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Tristan Bellum

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Join date : 2013-11-13

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PostSubject: Tristan Bellum   Wed Nov 13, 2013 9:33 pm

Name: Tristan Bellum
Gender: Male
Race: Half Light Elf/ Half Satyr (a half goat creature)
Age: 25
Birthday: April 1st
Height: 5'8"
Weight: 185
General appearance:
Fine, beautiful blonde hair so pale it's almost white goes down to his shoulder blades.  A pale complexion is marred by few scars, but one is noticeable from his eye to chin on the right side.  He inherited his mother's long Elf ears and slender face.  He has a slightly rounded jaw line with a pointed chin adorned by a long goatee (no mustache, just the soul-patch type of thing) that is dark brown on his chin but fades to white at the tip.  He has Satyr horns that protrude from the side of his head, curling backward. He has an elf's toned but slender upper body slightly more muscular due to his Satyr father. Starting around his navel and going down, a thick peach fuzz starts growing all the way around his waist.  This quickly changes from peach fuzz to a thick brown fur that cover his Satyr legs.  The thick fur goes down to his hooves, covering his muscular thighs yet slender calfs, a byproduct of his mixed parentage.  
Country affiliation: Aamath
Class: Necromancer
Jobs: Herbalism, Tailoring, Fishing (RP)
Deity: God of Death
Magical type(s): Fire
Stats:

Strength: 5
Agility: 10
Magic: 15
Stamina: 5
Health: 15
Motivation: He has a strong desire to get stronger in order to protect other people's happiness.  Due to his family's death, he does not want to see other people go through the same thing.  So he gets stronger, fights bad people, and rejoices over the smiling faces he protected.  His motivation for Necromancery is to possibly see his family again but also to get strong enough to demand respect from his opponents.
Personality: After coming to terms with his past and getting his revenge, he broke out of his shy attitude and became a social butterfly.  He ended up with his father's carefree attitude yet with the ability to sympathize from his mother.  This helped him make friends easily.  He likes fishing due to its calming, serene feeling, and hates people who kill and harm others.  He is also uncomfortable with people who hate others due only to their race or parentage.  
History:
Raised by his parents, an unlikely and odd couple, his mother the Light Elf and his father the Satyr.  Tristan had a good life with his family, at a young age.  An only child, he would often ask for siblings to play with.  His parents would smile and say 'We'll try'.  His father, living up to the libido of a Satry, was always hounding her at every moment.  His mother, enjoying the fun it was to lead him around by his goatee, just teasing him.  It all eventually lead to Tristan getting his wish.  His mother was due to give birth soon and Tristan couldn't be happier.  

One day Tristan was sitting with his mother on their porch, feeling the movements of his new sibling in his mother's woom.  Suddenly, and without warning, a band of raiders from Scali came from the forest to attack the father.  The beat him bloody and unconscious.  Tristan's mother, in the fray, hid him away under the house.  No sooner he was hidden, they found his mother and gave chase.  They caught her quickly and were so disgusted by her being pregnant from a Satyr, they didn't bother raping her.  One simply beat her unconscious and held her up by her arms, as the other took a big swing of his sword, spilling her guts on the ground before them.  Seeing the unborn baby, the man ran his sword through it's head, stepped on it and pulled his sword back.  Walking away, they took everything of use and left.  

Tristan, having witnessed this, was unable to process it.  Thinking it had to be a bad dream; there's no way this could be real.  But before him lay his own mother, eviscerated, and what would have been his little sister.  His father had been run through by swords several times and his skull cracked open.  He had fought so hard for just enough time to hide them, it was evident in how hard they had to try to kill him.  

For many years, Tristan never went near populated areas for fear of meeting people like that again.  Not speaking to anyone for so long, thinking back on what had happened.  He found some solace in fishing and would frequently do so while thinking of the good days.  His smiling mother who seemed a mother too perfect to be real.  His father the bull headed, my way or the highway, happy go lucky, horny goat that was completely wrapped around his mother's little finger.  And he liked to think about what his little sister would have been like.  He liked to imagine her as a little tyrant who was tomboyish and would constantly play jokes on everyone and was simply as carefree as their father but had such a cute smile that made you just roll your eyes and get over it.
 
One day several years after the tragety, Tristan was wondering through the woods and came across a small home in an opening ahead of him.  He ducked away, keeping an eye out for people.  He heard a sound from the stream nearby the house.   Watching closely for anything, a little girl with a huge grin on her face, screeching excitedly as she was running fast as her feet could carry.  An older boy came chasing after her, yelling about a snake that had apparently been let lose in his pants.  Dumbfounded by the scene unfolding before him, Tristan found it difficult to stay silent as his gut was heaving with uncontrollable laughter.  Obviously amused, Tristan watched the family for a while.  Thinking about his own family, how it probably would have been something like this scene.  He was envious and started feeling regret that he was able to live.  He wished he could have done something to save them, but he was too young to be of any help.  He would have surely died.  

Suddenly, Tristan heard a scream that was so familiar it ran a chill up his spine.  He saw the mother running towards the children as the father was fending off the same people that had attacked his family.  Tristan's blood was at an instant boil.  He didn't even notice his feet were moving.  He wasn't a child anymore, he was a grown man with a taste for vengeance he didn't even know existed.  It was so instinctually keen he didn't even know what happened.  

When he came to, he was wrapped in homemade bandages with a wet cloth on his head.  He was covered head to toe in injuries.  The most painful was his face, a large cut on his cheek went from his eye to his jaw.  It, along with other injuries, were sewn together quite poorly, but it did the trick.  Still coming to, he noticed a man sitting nearby, asleep resting his head on his hand.  Tristan recognized him as the father.  Tristan, still not trusting of people, started slinking toward his cloak that was hung nearby.  Almost reaching his cloak, a pang of pain shot up his leg and he fell over, a loud thud on the floor, waking the father.  The father shot to his side, telling him he needed to rest and not to worry for he was safe now and had nothing to fear.  Obviously in no position to argue, Tristan reluctantly went back to the bed and laid down.  The father tucked him back in, and it seemed strange.  *Why is he helping me?*  Tristan thought.  

The father had sat back in his chair, leaning on his knees with his elbows and his face buried in his hands.  The man let out a big shuddering exhalation, and a big sniffle.  Wiping away tears, he looked at Tristan with a relieved, but pained, smile.  The man then regaled the details of that day, one week ago.

"It happened really quick," he said.  He was fighting off 4 men who had attacked their home.  His wife told him about how Tristan was so fast he hardly touched the ground on a B-line straight for the father who was fighting the men.  One of them behind the father raised a sword and swung down.  They were hit so hard by Tristan that the blade fell short of hitting the father and cut down Tristan's cheek.  The man lay on the ground coughing pools of his own blood.  The blow from Tristan had fractured several ribs and they had punctured his lungs badly.  The 3 other men, having witnessed their man being killed in one blow, turned their attentions to Tristan.  The father joined Tristan's side, unsure, but going with the flow.  The 3 men attacked  and the fight went blow for blow.  Tristan got the better of another and head butted him, splitting the man's skull.  He lay unconscious and bleeding out.  The father, holding off the other 2, wrestled 1 to the ground, fighting over possession of a knife.  The other man raised his word to kill the father when Tristan grabbed him before the blade could fall and wrestled him against a tree.  

Now face to face, it was the man who had eviscerated his mother.  The man who had run his unborn sister through the head.  One of the men responsible for killing his father.  A strength he didn't know he had took over him.  He pulled the man's arms, still clutching the sword, over the man's head and down to his bottom.  Both of the man's arms dislocated, Tristan grabbed him by the shoulders and rammed one of his horns into the man's eye.  Screaming bloody murder, Tristan did him the same for the other.  Surprised by the screaming, the other man looked away from his fight, shocked it was his gang leader.  His lapse of judgement was all the father needed as he drove the knife deep in the man's chest.  Tristan began headbutting the leader over and over, sobbing inconsolably, screaming and headbutting him more until the man's head was just a pile of broken bone, and bloody mush.  

Tired, bloodied, and more adrenaline than ever in a lifetime, so many emotions seeminly ran through Tristan as the father recalled.  Tristan was a mess of relieved sighs, sobbing and laughing when it was over.  Eventually he passed out from blood loss and was cared for day and night by the family even though they thought for sure he was going to die.  It all came back to Tristan as the father explained it to him.  Tristan began weeping in relief as the story finished.  "I don't know why you did what you did sir, but I have you to thank for being safe with my family today.  You fought like a man possessed that day.  I wont ask questions.  I just wanted to say thank you, and let you know you can stay until you are able to take care of yourself."  

Later on, thinking back on it.  Tristan realized that he wasn't the only victim in the world.  He vowed he would become someone powerful enough, that the mere mention of his name brought obedience from all.  

RP Sample:
Moving on, Tristan decided to do something with his life and really try to better the world.  He knew not where his journey would take him, but he knew the capital city Neetal would be a good place to start.  Besides, he had heard much about famed fishing spots there that he had only dreamed of trying.

Tristan said his good byes to the family that had practically become his own and moved on down the road.  He didn't know which direction to go, but was able to talk to people at least and could simply ask for directions until he got there.  

Having spoken to the father before leaving, he inquired about what kinds of jobs there might be to help this world in the capital.  The father spoke of knights fighting for justice , fierce Valkyr who lived for battle, Mercenaries who fight for money, and Scions who live to protect others.  Mages with great affinity to magic conjuring great spells of both destruction and creation, Druids who can shape shift into an animal of their desire, Beast Masters who can tame the wild and command them to their will.  But the one that caught Tristan's ear the most was the Necromancer.  People who worked with the dead and have been known to be able to speak to them.  As well as summoning demons to do their bidding and steal the very life from a man.  That sort of ability would most certainly demand respect.  But the thing that got his attention was the possibility of being able to see his family or even just speak to them again.  He would do anything for that chance, and so he set out to seek it.  
Face claim: no picture so far


Last edited by Tristan Bellum on Sat Feb 08, 2014 6:35 pm; edited 1 time in total
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Azalea
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Weapon and Armor Damage and Resistance:
Spells and Abilities:

PostSubject: Re: Tristan Bellum   Sun Nov 17, 2013 9:24 pm

Admin Approved. Moving your template to Approved Characters in Aamath.
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