Post by Strike on Jan 15, 2006 0:52:48 GMT -5
Name: Strikarash Moonshallow
Nick Name: Strike (this is what he is known by)
Race: Kragarian (self invented race, please do not use, they are an outcast clan of werewolves. They are the few that would bow to Aslan, and for that they were destroyed. Kragarians arethe true warriso of the Werewolf race. They have two different transformations. One allows them to become super human but still look human, aside from Black Veins. the other is the Werewolf form. But it is stronger and more resistant.)
Age: 25 human years ( nearing his first transformation)
Gender: Male
Eyes: Soft Silver Steel
Hair: Style is shown in picture as is color. Starts at eye level and exceeds to nape of neck. A shiny Silver, almost white
Height: 6’2”
Weight: 185 lbs
Wear: Strike normally wears a large black cloak. When in the presence of others, the hood is drawn over his head, only showing his face. Underneath he wears a basic traveler’s outfit of brown and black leathers and other materials.
History: Dark and cold was that rainy evening night. The temple was cast brightly with much candle light, and through the rain, it seemed it almost glowed by the gods and goddesses themselves. Priestesses had been lively that evening, racing through the halls, fetching buckets of water and old unused rags. Recently several hours past, a woman had come to the grand double doors, filled with pain and grief. She was deeply wounded, wounds very fatal to her life and the infant she was about to give birth to.
As the corridor buzzed with frantic women, the attempt to save the woman’s life was futile. After several hours of labor and blood spilling the wounds of her deep gashes, all over her body, the woman died. But none the less, the infant survived. The body of course was buried within the well graveyard near the temple, but the child remained still with them. They had rummaged through her belongings, the few she carried which included a sword unknown, and came to understand the family name was Moonshallow. Her first name being Alongya, his meant to be Strikarash. Of course that was a pain to repeat over and over, so the people had grown well used to saying ‘Strike’ repeatedly instead. There was one more thing found within the bag. Oddly, a pup wolf. No one knew why it was there, or how it had survived when she did not, but there it was. Later on they came to just refer to it as Wolf. From that point on, Strike and Wolf were inseparable.
Like much of the other orphans put in the temple’s possession, Strike had gone through their studies, understanding the history and vast religions covering the kingdoms and realms. Specializing in MIELIKKI and OGHMA, Strike had also taken a special liking in the belief to SELUNE, and for a very special reason too. As he grew, Strike found himself eyeing the moon more and more as it grew fuller. He also found himself in the woods at night, not knowing why or how. Many mistook this for him being a werewolf. How close they were…but wrong. They went on thinking such, trying to keep him aligned as good. It worked.
But as Strike hit the ripe age of 17, his teachings were accomplished. The taking to Selune had kept him well in place, but that was not it. Recently after he freshly turned 17, they found out that he was not a werewolf, no. He could control the change, he could keep himself from killing. Strike also had an odd case of receiving black lines about his body when nearing the full moon or becoming angered (which was easy with the other orphans’ comments to him).
But at 17, Strike took his leave from the temple, his name always welcome there, but as is everyone else. Traveling over time with his companion Wolf, he stayed more or less close to the kingdom he was born under. When word the King and Queen went missing, Strike began to keep a weary eye. Amongst many of his travels, he had run into somewhat of a trouble. But only to be rescued by…a horse. But not an ordinary farm horse. This was a partial unicorn. Not pure bred mind you or else the thing would have left him for dead. This one was black, possessed no horn and very, very few magical abilities…if any. A group had formed. A group consisting of a wolf, a Kragarian, and a partial unicorn. They came to call the horse Black Magic, or Magic for short. Unfitting since the creature held none.
Returning back at the age of 22, Strike continued on with some studies, not very many, but some. Strike had learned what he was in the back of an old dusty scroll deep within the library portion of the temple. But he also learned there were close to none left. Even the abilities of what he was, was very unclear. The sword he possessed, he learned, was something from his family, his clan. Much was so unknown, but over time he would come to learn based on himself. So, the years went on and Strike began to learn extra skills, ways to hide his appearance, ways to fit in without being known, ways to survive without the help of others. Because of this, he had become rough edged and isolated, unknowing and uncaring of the other folks who lived in this world. Strike survived birth, years of study in a temple, quests that should have ended his life long ago but had not, and life itself. Now, he returns to the other life, the life of people, to learn and discover what it is he is missing. Yet he does not realize this is his motive.
Personality: Being more of to himself kind of person, it is not normal for Strike to willingly communicate with human like beings. He’s not shy, just to himself. But once he’s made a friend, he counts them like family and will defend them. He has a weakness for children
Place of Birth: Inside the Temple of Dondcast
Skills: Concentration, Craft (leatherworking & trap making), Diplomacy, Disguise, Handle Animal, Hide, Knowledge (Nature & History), Move Silently, Ride, Speak Language, Survival and Tumble.
Flaws: Guilt, Curiosity, Dark Secret, Harbinger of Ill Omen, Merciful, Nightmares, Phobia (heights), Qualm, Stubborn and Weakness (children)
Nick Name: Strike (this is what he is known by)
Race: Kragarian (self invented race, please do not use, they are an outcast clan of werewolves. They are the few that would bow to Aslan, and for that they were destroyed. Kragarians arethe true warriso of the Werewolf race. They have two different transformations. One allows them to become super human but still look human, aside from Black Veins. the other is the Werewolf form. But it is stronger and more resistant.)
Age: 25 human years ( nearing his first transformation)
Gender: Male
Eyes: Soft Silver Steel
Hair: Style is shown in picture as is color. Starts at eye level and exceeds to nape of neck. A shiny Silver, almost white
Height: 6’2”
Weight: 185 lbs
Wear: Strike normally wears a large black cloak. When in the presence of others, the hood is drawn over his head, only showing his face. Underneath he wears a basic traveler’s outfit of brown and black leathers and other materials.
History: Dark and cold was that rainy evening night. The temple was cast brightly with much candle light, and through the rain, it seemed it almost glowed by the gods and goddesses themselves. Priestesses had been lively that evening, racing through the halls, fetching buckets of water and old unused rags. Recently several hours past, a woman had come to the grand double doors, filled with pain and grief. She was deeply wounded, wounds very fatal to her life and the infant she was about to give birth to.
As the corridor buzzed with frantic women, the attempt to save the woman’s life was futile. After several hours of labor and blood spilling the wounds of her deep gashes, all over her body, the woman died. But none the less, the infant survived. The body of course was buried within the well graveyard near the temple, but the child remained still with them. They had rummaged through her belongings, the few she carried which included a sword unknown, and came to understand the family name was Moonshallow. Her first name being Alongya, his meant to be Strikarash. Of course that was a pain to repeat over and over, so the people had grown well used to saying ‘Strike’ repeatedly instead. There was one more thing found within the bag. Oddly, a pup wolf. No one knew why it was there, or how it had survived when she did not, but there it was. Later on they came to just refer to it as Wolf. From that point on, Strike and Wolf were inseparable.
Like much of the other orphans put in the temple’s possession, Strike had gone through their studies, understanding the history and vast religions covering the kingdoms and realms. Specializing in MIELIKKI and OGHMA, Strike had also taken a special liking in the belief to SELUNE, and for a very special reason too. As he grew, Strike found himself eyeing the moon more and more as it grew fuller. He also found himself in the woods at night, not knowing why or how. Many mistook this for him being a werewolf. How close they were…but wrong. They went on thinking such, trying to keep him aligned as good. It worked.
But as Strike hit the ripe age of 17, his teachings were accomplished. The taking to Selune had kept him well in place, but that was not it. Recently after he freshly turned 17, they found out that he was not a werewolf, no. He could control the change, he could keep himself from killing. Strike also had an odd case of receiving black lines about his body when nearing the full moon or becoming angered (which was easy with the other orphans’ comments to him).
But at 17, Strike took his leave from the temple, his name always welcome there, but as is everyone else. Traveling over time with his companion Wolf, he stayed more or less close to the kingdom he was born under. When word the King and Queen went missing, Strike began to keep a weary eye. Amongst many of his travels, he had run into somewhat of a trouble. But only to be rescued by…a horse. But not an ordinary farm horse. This was a partial unicorn. Not pure bred mind you or else the thing would have left him for dead. This one was black, possessed no horn and very, very few magical abilities…if any. A group had formed. A group consisting of a wolf, a Kragarian, and a partial unicorn. They came to call the horse Black Magic, or Magic for short. Unfitting since the creature held none.
Returning back at the age of 22, Strike continued on with some studies, not very many, but some. Strike had learned what he was in the back of an old dusty scroll deep within the library portion of the temple. But he also learned there were close to none left. Even the abilities of what he was, was very unclear. The sword he possessed, he learned, was something from his family, his clan. Much was so unknown, but over time he would come to learn based on himself. So, the years went on and Strike began to learn extra skills, ways to hide his appearance, ways to fit in without being known, ways to survive without the help of others. Because of this, he had become rough edged and isolated, unknowing and uncaring of the other folks who lived in this world. Strike survived birth, years of study in a temple, quests that should have ended his life long ago but had not, and life itself. Now, he returns to the other life, the life of people, to learn and discover what it is he is missing. Yet he does not realize this is his motive.
Personality: Being more of to himself kind of person, it is not normal for Strike to willingly communicate with human like beings. He’s not shy, just to himself. But once he’s made a friend, he counts them like family and will defend them. He has a weakness for children
Place of Birth: Inside the Temple of Dondcast
Skills: Concentration, Craft (leatherworking & trap making), Diplomacy, Disguise, Handle Animal, Hide, Knowledge (Nature & History), Move Silently, Ride, Speak Language, Survival and Tumble.
Flaws: Guilt, Curiosity, Dark Secret, Harbinger of Ill Omen, Merciful, Nightmares, Phobia (heights), Qualm, Stubborn and Weakness (children)
