General Information Known by party members about Daldren Gray:
Daldren Gray is a blunt sort who rarely speaks unless his words need be shared to influence the outcome of a situation, or to defend his love of all that is Pardinal. Very deliberate in action, Daldren typically does not make a decision without considering the existential consequences of his actions; his mind working much as though he were in a constant game of Hazards.
Daldren Gray stands at just over six feet, his skin tanned from long hours in the sun. Grey eyes are set deep within a face chiseled from flesh, a square chin and angled cheek bones giving him a very stoic and serious demeanor. Were Daldren’s skin but marble or stone, his typical still and silent stance would suit his statuesque qualities well.
Daldren is in his early thirties, and carries about him an air of confidence and experience, but he rarely speaks of the past. His raven black hair is offset only by a shock of white hair along his right side, and when asked about it Daldren merely recalls it as a reminder of dedication to his profession.
(It is widely rumored the shock of white comes as an after effect of an Aging Curse he took defending a charge, thus leaving Daldren’s true age a mystery.)
A Soldier of Fortune, or Mercenary, Bodyguard, or Sword for Hire, whatever you wish to call it, Daldren takes his profession very seriously, and to slight his professionalism is like attacking his honor, something that does not go over well with the man.
When in combat, Daldren is skilled in a wide array of combat styles and weapons. He can hit a mark 100’ away with a bow most days with ease, and when in melee, adapts his equipment to his opponent. Cutlass, shield, rapier, daggers, thrown weapons or alchemical assistance all hold places in his repertoire. “The right tool for the right job” is Daldren’s motto. Daldren doesn’t seem to wear armor most of the time, though he’s been trained to wear all types of defensive apparel. A loner socially, Daldren understands the necessity of teamwork, and strategy and brings a tactical, analytical approach to any combat situation.
While definitely not the life of the party as it were, Daldren is definitely the type of person you’d rather have watching your back as a companion than as an enemy.
Posted on 2010-01-25 at 17:13:51.
Edited on 2010-01-25 at 17:17:14 by Kaelyn
Maybe in the meantime everyone if they like can leave a general dossier like I did, seeing as we all know and have worked with each other before, it'll help us hit the ground running with some info and insight on each other?
I'll have something to you by Tomorrow (Weds) at the latest.
Posted on 2010-01-27 at 02:23:23.
Raven Resident Finn RDI Staff Karma: 68/3 982 Posts
A quick something
To someone who is meeting Danamar Amarillis the first time, the sylvari cleric can seem like any other member of his race - distant, noble, even arrogant. To those who have grown to know him better and have earned his friendship, it is quite clear Danamar is not carved from the same wood as his often aloof and very self-conscious kin. Having spent decades among humans and other goodly races, Danamar has adapted to most of their ways and behavior. Still, he is an elf, immortal from the point of view of the "lesser" races and his origin can at times show in other ways than his appearance.
Similarly to Daldren, whom Danamar had grown to like during their work together, the sylvari Warder is a fairly quiet person who mostly speaks only when he really has something to say. He likes to consider and then reconsider any action before taking it. This doesn't mean Danamar is slow in his actions, but rather that he likes to be well prepared instead.
If anything, the sylvari warrior-priest's goal in life is to uphold justice and fairness when he can and where it's wise; especially so in mortal combat. It isn't to say that he is against killing or violence in general, for sometimes cruelty can be the only way of achieving a greater good. But unneeded violence is just that - not needed. Then again some creatures are better to be put to death to stop them from possibly killing innocent beings at another point in time.
Some would consider Danamar a knight of Therassor, but in his own mind he is still more of a priest or a healer. Perhaps due to his upbringing, he still values life over any dogma. Yet, if need be and so often is, the sole surviving son of Lord Amarillis is an able fighter. He carries his enchanted elven longsword with pride and has learned his fencing skills from one of the best. Though he was trained in using - and sometimes even required to wear - the heavy and awkward plate armor of the local guard in Quevin, the syl prefers wearing his beautiful, light suit of mithril instead. Also he, like all warriors of his kin, is adept in the use of the composite elven longbow.
Danamar is some five feet and eight inches tall and weights around 170 pounds. The pale skinned elf is surprisingly strong for his lean, though muscular frame. His long and slightly wavy hear is jet black and his almond shaped eyes are of the deepest of greens in color. Though not the most beautiful of sylvari males, he still tends to turn the heads of human women wherever he goes. He has never discussed his age with his companions, but doesn't consider it a secret either. Compared to humans, he looks like a man in his prime - perhaps late twenties, but a close look in Danamar's wisdom filled eyes would reveal him to be more than a century older, though still young for a sylvari.
There is an air of mystery and danger around Danamar that may come from his blood, wariness or his looks or the combination of the three. It is not once of twice that someone has thought the chair in the shadowy corner of a tavern empty only to find someone or something sitting there after a closer look. Danamar's outfit, with the exception of his full silvery chainmail, is nearly completely black, but it's the strange cloak he is wearing that seems to hide him in the shadows.
But it is a very LITTLE bit... Though it'll be fun to see how this plays out.
Irael awoke in the wild elven lands, not knowing where he was. As he sat up, he felt a throbbing pain in his head, though he had no idea why he would feel it. Looking at his body, he realized he had been stripped of everything he owned, and was lost. Not daring to give up, he got up and wandered aimlessly, searching for someone whom he could ask what happened.
A day later, he was found by a patrol team, and brought to the village. He rested in the infirmary until he was capable, and then began to ask around what had happened. Nobody knew why he was there, or how. Simply that Irael now was part of their village. Irael attended the school of elven swords and sorcery to be able to prepare himself for when he was to be in a dangerous situation again, so that he would not be harmed. Being with his kin, he learned the way of mixing the sword and magic in combat. Irael excelled at this, and became the top of his class. However, his desire for knowledge of who he had been before he awoke that one day puzzled him to no end, and so he left the Syl village and went off questing for the answers.