Pub Patrons

[monty]

I Thought it would be good to have a place where people could describe their characters in the Boar's head. Mine is below. Cheers.

Monty blended well into the gloom of the dimly lit atmosphere of the pub. His short, dark hair was out and about, the hood that normally covered it thrown back onto his tall frame. His dark brown eyes were behind a set of small spectacles that looked like they had a barely survived a number of damaging blows. Dark garments covered his brown skin. His teeth flash constantly in large smiles and his infectious and warm laugher could be heard above the din of the pub’s crowd. He is quick to laugh and quick to forgive any slight against him.
If you asked him, he would tell you that he was a minor mage of some skill. Listening to his tales, you would think that he could perform some High Magics, at least much more than a ‘minor mage’ should be able to do. Many of his tales include adventurers on the high seas, as he was a sailor for many years. He comes from a very troubled land where he has, for a number of years, been working behind the scenes on a way to dethrone the emperor of the land.
Looking into his eyes, you can tell that he has had a hard life. This one is no angel, though he does work for the common good. He styles himself the “Plebeian King.” A fancy title that means he is the most common of the common man. What is odd is that people have been known to come up to him and pay him honors, as if he were royalty. When this occurs, Monty laughs heartedly, shakes his head, shakes their hand, and then treats them as if they were king.
Usually found alone, Monty is known to associate with some rather odd individuals. One pair in particular bears mentioning, just as a good example of how odd his associates can be. Consisting of one medium light humanoid and one shorter, dark humanoid, this pair talks in a strange manner consisting solely of a combination of short guttural sounds and snaps from their fingers and limbs. Occasionally, they will say a single word or two that can be understood, but it will always be pronounced with a lift at the end, like as a question (For example, one time the short one was heard to say “Dog, Food?”). When they are angry, it sounds like a deranged man walking on twigs as they mutter and pop like crazy.




[This message has been edited by monty (edited 27 May 2001).]

[VampiricDread]

Vampiric Dread was the name he got afterwards...

He was just a lively brat, living on the edge of Beladriel Forest, with his family, when Birubiruash decided to settle near there, for a time. Of course, no one knew who or what Birubiruash was until common folk where dying of the vampire's plague, or turning into blood-sucking, dedicated servants.

Being a roaming vampire, Birubiruash was unconcerned about the local exhaustion of its sources of blood, until the time he had to move on. The Last preys to its blood lust were the family that lived by the Forest of the Elves, and traded with them.

Never a friend to Elvenkind, in fact loathing their merrying at Nature, Birubiruash decided to raid the traders's family.

A single boy, who was playing late with some young elves and sprites and other elemental creatures, by the creek running close to Beladriel Forest, never knew what happened, until he got home the following morning.

Ermiel, an Elf child, and a Prince of Beladriel, who walked him over, persuaded his folk to take care of the human orphan.

In the midst of the Beladrian Elves the boy turned to man, and learned the Elven-way, always marred by the need to exact retribution (which the Elves have difficulty in understanding).

To cut a long story short, he left Beladriel, and managed to dispose of Birubiruash, and its minions. He roamed the lands whenever tales of Vampires came to him, and he got the name of Vampiric Dread from his successes.

Some of his friends know his name, but never use it, except in dire need. His Elven name is only known to him and the Elves of Beladriel Forest.

He is a man of small height, some 170 centimeters, slender, with nice features marred by the grief you can see in his eyes, should you make eye contact. He wears an elven cloak about him, and a discoloured hat sometimes.

He doesn't seem to carry anything, but there are stories told where he produced the most strange wooden weapons, potions, and some say, even spells.

The fact is, being elf-breeded, his stealth is unsurpassed as far as Humans go. As for the rest, you have to be with him... and he's a lone hunting wolf.

Occasionally, Vampiric Dread joins a party of adventurers. He has met other survivors this way, in this hostile land, and his trustworthyness is without question, though his friends are scarce.

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I wish I had more time to adventure...

[This message has been edited by VampiricDread (edited 28 May 2001).]