Post by Lyonel on Jul 22, 2015 16:25:41 GMT -5
Name: Lord Orson Banefort
Age: 64
Kingdom: Goldlands
Character Skills:
Fighting
-Weapons
--One Handed
---Axes: 62
-Armor
--Chain (25 Points)
--Shield (25 Points)
Leadership:
-Battle
--Land (100)
---Ambush 50
---Siege 50
---Scouting 50
---Command 50
---Cavalry 50
Political:
-Persuasion
--Intimidation 85
-Intrigue
--Forgery 50
--Spy Network
---Iron Islands 90
---Goldlands 50
---North 85
-Economic
--Governing 85
--Finance 85
--Agriculture 50
Physical abilities
---Observation 50
Miscellaneous
-Poison
--Creation 60
Higher Mysteries 100
Character History:
Of the life I lived before I had no recollection, for even though I spent thirty years walking this earth inside this flesh tomb, I had not yet been born; my first memories a drawn from the day of my birth. It was a dark night at sea, the tidals lifted our ship, what seemed to be, miles up; the fat figure of unborn me ran through the decks barking orders as a shepard hound and his sheep. I was a afraid then, but now I know better: He had been calling me, that was His invitation into his halls.
I woke on washed ashore in grey coastline of mud and ooze, a strange substance that wrapped around my fingers as I struggled to get on my feet. Looking up, I could see a city standing before me, it's achitectural figures and shapes tortured my mind for to comprehend them was above my capacity. From there, I heard a maddening song of pure terror, it drew me across the impossible landscape into the grand central building.
There, He who lives beneath the waves received me, with a warm embrace like a mother does to her newborn son; that moment I knew that all the horror and fear I felt was nothing. In his halls I feasted for a night, the longest night ever; travelling through space and time, into far away lands of which I cannot give a faithful description. He taught me many things that night, from the song I head that morning on the beach to the deepest secrets of life and death.
And in a whim, I was back. My flesh enclosure found itself on another beach of white sand, it had no memory from his life before birth and neither from after; it was lost, a suckling babe taken right from his mother's tits. Looking on the distance he saw a column of men riding, they spoke a strange tongue and rode beasts it had never seen before- or had it?-, they seemed to know it, although it's hairs were long and body nothing but skin and bones.
As we rode to the castle, my senses came back to me; slowly my ears familiriazed once again with the sound waves of this mortal land. The man had a face of which I slightly recalled, but aged by the toil of time; this one had once been my trusted advisor and friend, but now, twenty years later he seemed to curse my arrival.
It did not take long, before I was cast into a dungeon. I realised his plan right then; all his men had seen the return of their madman of a lord. But my friend had been gorging in power for two decades, and now he was not willing to give it away freely. I believe he thought the best option was to hide this carcass of a men and put in charge a copy of me; a copy that he could play like a mummer's puppet.
The fool should have killed me instead, during the thirteen years that I spent in the dark cells of the Banefort, while what I had once called a family drank and dined with a farce, I recalled all that had happened in His halls. I wrote His language all across the walls of my cell, with nightsoil, blood or whatever I could find; in time I learned of their special properties and how to control it. I gave Him my soul, and He gave me back power.
An year from this moment, I realised I was ready to take back what was rightfully mine. It was middle of the night and I guess the screams could be heard all across the Goldlands; all of them were traitors, the doppleganger, my friend, the servants and my family. I had blood of my own kin on my hands, but I did not feel guilty; for I was only doing His work. It took me some time to stabilize things, new servants were difficult to find and some of my vassals felt like challenging my rule; but I took care of it. They would follow through fear, if nothing else was possible.
It's now time for my return, to look once again upon the faces of my overlords and to unleash ,upon the heathen soil of Westeros, His will.
Character Description:
A strange hairy man, with a deep bass voice and a tendency for black clothes.
Character Reputation:
No one comprehends what the fuck has been going on Banefort lands for the last year.
Age: 64
Kingdom: Goldlands
Character Skills:
Fighting
-Weapons
--One Handed
---Axes: 62
-Armor
--Chain (25 Points)
--Shield (25 Points)
Leadership:
-Battle
--Land (100)
---Ambush 50
---Siege 50
---Scouting 50
---Command 50
---Cavalry 50
Political:
-Persuasion
--Intimidation 85
-Intrigue
--Forgery 50
--Spy Network
---Iron Islands 90
---Goldlands 50
---North 85
-Economic
--Governing 85
--Finance 85
--Agriculture 50
Physical abilities
---Observation 50
Miscellaneous
-Poison
--Creation 60
Higher Mysteries 100
Character History:
Of the life I lived before I had no recollection, for even though I spent thirty years walking this earth inside this flesh tomb, I had not yet been born; my first memories a drawn from the day of my birth. It was a dark night at sea, the tidals lifted our ship, what seemed to be, miles up; the fat figure of unborn me ran through the decks barking orders as a shepard hound and his sheep. I was a afraid then, but now I know better: He had been calling me, that was His invitation into his halls.
I woke on washed ashore in grey coastline of mud and ooze, a strange substance that wrapped around my fingers as I struggled to get on my feet. Looking up, I could see a city standing before me, it's achitectural figures and shapes tortured my mind for to comprehend them was above my capacity. From there, I heard a maddening song of pure terror, it drew me across the impossible landscape into the grand central building.
There, He who lives beneath the waves received me, with a warm embrace like a mother does to her newborn son; that moment I knew that all the horror and fear I felt was nothing. In his halls I feasted for a night, the longest night ever; travelling through space and time, into far away lands of which I cannot give a faithful description. He taught me many things that night, from the song I head that morning on the beach to the deepest secrets of life and death.
And in a whim, I was back. My flesh enclosure found itself on another beach of white sand, it had no memory from his life before birth and neither from after; it was lost, a suckling babe taken right from his mother's tits. Looking on the distance he saw a column of men riding, they spoke a strange tongue and rode beasts it had never seen before- or had it?-, they seemed to know it, although it's hairs were long and body nothing but skin and bones.
As we rode to the castle, my senses came back to me; slowly my ears familiriazed once again with the sound waves of this mortal land. The man had a face of which I slightly recalled, but aged by the toil of time; this one had once been my trusted advisor and friend, but now, twenty years later he seemed to curse my arrival.
It did not take long, before I was cast into a dungeon. I realised his plan right then; all his men had seen the return of their madman of a lord. But my friend had been gorging in power for two decades, and now he was not willing to give it away freely. I believe he thought the best option was to hide this carcass of a men and put in charge a copy of me; a copy that he could play like a mummer's puppet.
The fool should have killed me instead, during the thirteen years that I spent in the dark cells of the Banefort, while what I had once called a family drank and dined with a farce, I recalled all that had happened in His halls. I wrote His language all across the walls of my cell, with nightsoil, blood or whatever I could find; in time I learned of their special properties and how to control it. I gave Him my soul, and He gave me back power.
An year from this moment, I realised I was ready to take back what was rightfully mine. It was middle of the night and I guess the screams could be heard all across the Goldlands; all of them were traitors, the doppleganger, my friend, the servants and my family. I had blood of my own kin on my hands, but I did not feel guilty; for I was only doing His work. It took me some time to stabilize things, new servants were difficult to find and some of my vassals felt like challenging my rule; but I took care of it. They would follow through fear, if nothing else was possible.
It's now time for my return, to look once again upon the faces of my overlords and to unleash ,upon the heathen soil of Westeros, His will.
Character Description:
A strange hairy man, with a deep bass voice and a tendency for black clothes.
Character Reputation:
No one comprehends what the fuck has been going on Banefort lands for the last year.