-OOC- Application
Character: Faldain Randir
Fandom:OC
Player Name: Crow
Player LJ: silver_foxglove
Contact A SnowWhite Crow
Character Number: 4?
Character: Faldain Randir
Fandom: OC
Personality: Faldain is a mostly quiet and reserved individual, who tends to prefer spending his time alone, or at most in the company of a select few. He's family oriented, and very devoted to his mother and stepfather, as well as his twin sister, Nereisse, and his younger sister, Cyprus. Around others, he is known to be a bit of an introvert, but at the same time he isn't shy about speaking his mind when he feels something needs to be said. Faldain has tact though, he dislikes bluntness if it can be avoided.
Despite being trained in swordplay, Dain chooses not to fight, unlike his twin sister, who is always off on some adventure, far away from home. He doesn't yearn for the open road by any means, and if asked, will tell you plainly that he'd rather be right there, in the comfort of his father's workshop.
When people bring up his past, chances you will see the discomfort in his eyes and his manner of speech, and while he will never flat out ignore questions about his parentage, he is more apt to talk about Seren, his stepfather, and his beloved mother, Streea, than his birth father, Giles. Still, give him an inch and he'll try to change the subject, steering it away towards something more pleasant and engaging to more than just himself.
In all honesty, Dain is happiest when he's useful. At home, he's content to stay in Milika, learning his trade and staying close to his family, guarding those he cares for as best he can.
It should be noted, that Dain was born and raised in an area where drow on the surface were tolerated. Due to his mother's kind works as an adventurer before motherhood and her strange companions, Faldain was never a victim of prejudice, though he knows from his family's words that were he to set foot outside of his small bubble of a world that he would likely be persecuted for what he is. The idea of being hated due to his skin color is absurd to him, and to some degree he fears that hatred he can't possibly understand.
History: Faldain, along with his twin sister Nereisse and his little sister Cyprus were born in Milika to his mother, Streea Baren'datraga and birth father, Giles. Streea was a halfbreed drow woman who had been born and raised on the surface, and in Dain's mind there isn't a sweeter, more kind woman alive. He never met her father or mother; they were dead long before he was born. His father's parents, his grandparents, were the ones that raised him for the first decade of his life, as Streea and Giles were often on the road, helping in protecting the countryside from the many perils it faced, often gone in their large groups. Still, they came back often, and he was never deprived of his mother's company for too long.
Faldain was always the quieter of the twins and grew to be the more protective one as a result of seeing his mother attacked on several occasions in his youth. It was during this that he developed a hatred for battle and warfare. Even as his grandfather trained him how to wield a sword, he couldn't help but hate that he might have to someday use it.
It was during his "preteen" years that Giles left for good. Whether he was dead or had just run off, he was never certain, but Faldain has never forgiven the elf for leaving his mother behind. Streea and her party took the children from his grandparents and they continued to travel onwards, Dain and Nereisse protected by Streea's friend Whisper, who had two children of her own, a colt named Rowdy, and a filly named Sullen. He was thrilled to be at his mother's side, and rarely strayed far from her when he could help it, except when danger was present and he had to drag his rambunctious sister away to safety before she could grab her tiny sword and shield.
Not even thirty years ago, Dain was thrilled to learn that his mother would be remarrying, a sun elf carpenter by the name of Seren Randir, and an old and dear friend of the family. He was a gentle, quiet man, a little skittish, perhaps, because Seren was certainly no fighter. But Faldain was happy when the newly combined family settled down in Milika in Streea's old home. His mother was giving up the adventuring life, passing it down to her young daughter Nereisse, while Dain was taken under Seren's wing to become a Master Carpenter like his stepfather.
Appearance: Faldain is about 5'5" of skinny drow elf. Black skin and long white hair. He wears a small pair of spectacles when reading, his eyesight not quite as keen as his sister's from nights spent reading in low candlelight. He has red eyes, and tends to dress himself in a green tunic and leggings, and a cloak if outside. Simple, utilitarian clothing with little flourish or detail.
Abilities: Being elf, and mostly Drow at that, Faldain has a few innate abilities. Levitation to a very short degree, as well as faerie fire, an ability that can line someone with harmless flames of light (it's more of a scare tactic than anything else). To a small degree, he can "listen" to plants around him, being a creature of nature as he is, but being what he is racially, this is much less powerful than it would be from a full-blood wood elf.
Sample log entry: When Faldain came to, he knew for certain that he wasn't home. The forest was different, the trees and birds like nothing he had heard back home. Nature was present...but unbalanced in some fashion that made him a little dizzy. In reaction to his strange location, he tugged the dark hood over his hair, carefully tucking the silvery-white strands back and out of sight, making sure the cowl was deep enough to hide himself.
If he wasn't in Milika's forest, but somewhere else, there was likely the chance for danger, and Dain didn't like that idea one bit. It wasn't something he preferred by any means, would rather be home in the warmth of his home, or in his workroom, finishing the intricate new carvings for the armoire that was to be an anniversary gift for his parents.
...There was no trace of familiarity here, no sign of his family or anything that he could remotely place as similar to help guide him. Normally, were he on the road, he wouldn't mind this "as" much, because he would be with-
"Nereisse?" he called out softly, twisting his head around at the snap of a twig somewhere in the distance. He began to pick his way through the thicket carefully, stopping only when he saw the small communicator on the ground. Intrigued (despite his denial, adventurer's blood did run in his veins!), he bent down to pick it up, turning the device round and round in his hands. Small, compact...likely a magic item someone had left behind, which made it terribly intriguing to study...and also terrifyingly dangerous.
"...Vel'bol s'enar d' bol zhah nindol? Nereisse orn'la zhaun whol khruste. Il 'udtila naut kluth tlu bauth, rilu'oh..." ...What sort of item is this? Nereisse would know for certain. She does not seem be about, however...
Sample journal entry: [ VOICE ]
[ The crunch of footsteps, and the static of the communicator being picked up. It's turned over and over in someone's hands, activating video feature long enough to show a glimpse of a hood and red eyes before it's turned upside down and flickers to voice only once more. Whoever he is, he murmurs softly to himself, voice gentle]
...Vel'bol s'enar d' bol zhah nindol? Nereisse orn'la zhaun whol khruste. Il 'udtila naut kluth tlu bauth, rilu'oh..."
[The voice picks up a little, speaking in common now ]
I wonder what I've gotten myself into this time...? With Nereisse nowhere in sight, though I'm sure she has something to do with it...this is her style, strange magick that it is.
[And louder]
Can anyone hear me? Father? Nereisse?
...This isn't funny, sister!
Fandom:OC
Player Name: Crow
Player LJ: silver_foxglove
Contact A SnowWhite Crow
Character Number: 4?
Character: Faldain Randir
Fandom: OC
Personality: Faldain is a mostly quiet and reserved individual, who tends to prefer spending his time alone, or at most in the company of a select few. He's family oriented, and very devoted to his mother and stepfather, as well as his twin sister, Nereisse, and his younger sister, Cyprus. Around others, he is known to be a bit of an introvert, but at the same time he isn't shy about speaking his mind when he feels something needs to be said. Faldain has tact though, he dislikes bluntness if it can be avoided.
Despite being trained in swordplay, Dain chooses not to fight, unlike his twin sister, who is always off on some adventure, far away from home. He doesn't yearn for the open road by any means, and if asked, will tell you plainly that he'd rather be right there, in the comfort of his father's workshop.
When people bring up his past, chances you will see the discomfort in his eyes and his manner of speech, and while he will never flat out ignore questions about his parentage, he is more apt to talk about Seren, his stepfather, and his beloved mother, Streea, than his birth father, Giles. Still, give him an inch and he'll try to change the subject, steering it away towards something more pleasant and engaging to more than just himself.
In all honesty, Dain is happiest when he's useful. At home, he's content to stay in Milika, learning his trade and staying close to his family, guarding those he cares for as best he can.
It should be noted, that Dain was born and raised in an area where drow on the surface were tolerated. Due to his mother's kind works as an adventurer before motherhood and her strange companions, Faldain was never a victim of prejudice, though he knows from his family's words that were he to set foot outside of his small bubble of a world that he would likely be persecuted for what he is. The idea of being hated due to his skin color is absurd to him, and to some degree he fears that hatred he can't possibly understand.
History: Faldain, along with his twin sister Nereisse and his little sister Cyprus were born in Milika to his mother, Streea Baren'datraga and birth father, Giles. Streea was a halfbreed drow woman who had been born and raised on the surface, and in Dain's mind there isn't a sweeter, more kind woman alive. He never met her father or mother; they were dead long before he was born. His father's parents, his grandparents, were the ones that raised him for the first decade of his life, as Streea and Giles were often on the road, helping in protecting the countryside from the many perils it faced, often gone in their large groups. Still, they came back often, and he was never deprived of his mother's company for too long.
Faldain was always the quieter of the twins and grew to be the more protective one as a result of seeing his mother attacked on several occasions in his youth. It was during this that he developed a hatred for battle and warfare. Even as his grandfather trained him how to wield a sword, he couldn't help but hate that he might have to someday use it.
It was during his "preteen" years that Giles left for good. Whether he was dead or had just run off, he was never certain, but Faldain has never forgiven the elf for leaving his mother behind. Streea and her party took the children from his grandparents and they continued to travel onwards, Dain and Nereisse protected by Streea's friend Whisper, who had two children of her own, a colt named Rowdy, and a filly named Sullen. He was thrilled to be at his mother's side, and rarely strayed far from her when he could help it, except when danger was present and he had to drag his rambunctious sister away to safety before she could grab her tiny sword and shield.
Not even thirty years ago, Dain was thrilled to learn that his mother would be remarrying, a sun elf carpenter by the name of Seren Randir, and an old and dear friend of the family. He was a gentle, quiet man, a little skittish, perhaps, because Seren was certainly no fighter. But Faldain was happy when the newly combined family settled down in Milika in Streea's old home. His mother was giving up the adventuring life, passing it down to her young daughter Nereisse, while Dain was taken under Seren's wing to become a Master Carpenter like his stepfather.
Appearance: Faldain is about 5'5" of skinny drow elf. Black skin and long white hair. He wears a small pair of spectacles when reading, his eyesight not quite as keen as his sister's from nights spent reading in low candlelight. He has red eyes, and tends to dress himself in a green tunic and leggings, and a cloak if outside. Simple, utilitarian clothing with little flourish or detail.
Abilities: Being elf, and mostly Drow at that, Faldain has a few innate abilities. Levitation to a very short degree, as well as faerie fire, an ability that can line someone with harmless flames of light (it's more of a scare tactic than anything else). To a small degree, he can "listen" to plants around him, being a creature of nature as he is, but being what he is racially, this is much less powerful than it would be from a full-blood wood elf.
Sample log entry: When Faldain came to, he knew for certain that he wasn't home. The forest was different, the trees and birds like nothing he had heard back home. Nature was present...but unbalanced in some fashion that made him a little dizzy. In reaction to his strange location, he tugged the dark hood over his hair, carefully tucking the silvery-white strands back and out of sight, making sure the cowl was deep enough to hide himself.
If he wasn't in Milika's forest, but somewhere else, there was likely the chance for danger, and Dain didn't like that idea one bit. It wasn't something he preferred by any means, would rather be home in the warmth of his home, or in his workroom, finishing the intricate new carvings for the armoire that was to be an anniversary gift for his parents.
...There was no trace of familiarity here, no sign of his family or anything that he could remotely place as similar to help guide him. Normally, were he on the road, he wouldn't mind this "as" much, because he would be with-
"Nereisse?" he called out softly, twisting his head around at the snap of a twig somewhere in the distance. He began to pick his way through the thicket carefully, stopping only when he saw the small communicator on the ground. Intrigued (despite his denial, adventurer's blood did run in his veins!), he bent down to pick it up, turning the device round and round in his hands. Small, compact...likely a magic item someone had left behind, which made it terribly intriguing to study...and also terrifyingly dangerous.
"...Vel'bol s'enar d' bol zhah nindol? Nereisse orn'la zhaun whol khruste. Il 'udtila naut kluth tlu bauth, rilu'oh..." ...What sort of item is this? Nereisse would know for certain. She does not seem be about, however...
Sample journal entry: [ VOICE ]
[ The crunch of footsteps, and the static of the communicator being picked up. It's turned over and over in someone's hands, activating video feature long enough to show a glimpse of a hood and red eyes before it's turned upside down and flickers to voice only once more. Whoever he is, he murmurs softly to himself, voice gentle]
...Vel'bol s'enar d' bol zhah nindol? Nereisse orn'la zhaun whol khruste. Il 'udtila naut kluth tlu bauth, rilu'oh..."
[The voice picks up a little, speaking in common now ]
I wonder what I've gotten myself into this time...? With Nereisse nowhere in sight, though I'm sure she has something to do with it...this is her style, strange magick that it is.
[And louder]
Can anyone hear me? Father? Nereisse?
...This isn't funny, sister!