Post by Hica on Dec 19, 2006 16:24:20 GMT -5
Name: Hica
Race: Eshiriyan (explained below)
Patron God: In his homeland, he worshipped the god of Horses. Here, he tends to lean towards Maedra.
Homeland: Eshiraya (explained below as well)
Location: Wanderer
Physical Characteristics:
Age: 23
Hair Color: Silver
Eye Color: Crimson
Skin Tone: Brown
Height: 6' 6"
Weight: 220
Additonal Physical Attributes: Hica is pretty muscular, and hs built broad and strong. He is the classic picture of an Eshiriyan male, right now to the classic red eyes, the long sweeping silver hair (done up in a ponytail), and huge body. Hica's face is rather feminine for his size, and he could be considered good looking.
If not for the scar. The wound starts perhaps an inch from the right side of his lip, and travels back across his cheek to above his ear. If his hair were to be shaved, then one could see that it ends directly above the ear. How it avoided taking off part of the ear is a mystery. The other distinctive feature about Hica is his markings. Golden lines, perhaps two-third inches wide, twine across his back. They start on the very bottom of his back, ending on his shoulders. The faint pattern that can be deduced is that of a briar rose.
Hica's voice is a deep baritone, smooth though slightly booming. Something completely natural in a man his size. Hica used to speak in dialect, almost unintelligible. For example, he is were to say 'I'm going to the store,' his version would be 'Eem ging teh th' ster.' Much the dialect has been dropped, he was quickly taught to speak proper English, so his value as a slave would rise. However, he still have an accent, sometimes reverts to the dialect if stressed, and can easily switch between the two. The vowel he has the most trouble with is the 'o.'
Personality: Hica may have once been a smiling and laughing man, but now he's little more an epitome of the strong silent type. It seems like his favorite thing to do is to stand with hands crossed in front of him, and watch everyone and everything. Only speaking with addressed, only moving when told to, you could almost mistake him for a statue. It unerves a lot of people, expessially if they get a good look at his eyes when he's in such a state. They look dead, like he's forgotten how to feel.
There's a rare side that only a few ever see of Hica, and those are the ones who he instantly takes a liking to. Teenaged girls are the ones he most often takes a liking too. No, Hica is not a pervert. They simply remind him of his sister, whom he was spent his entire life protecting. He's marginally more talkative than usual, and will do small things to show a sort of awkward kindness, as if he's almost forgotten how to do such things. They may even be treated to one of his rare smiles, and an ever rarer laugh.
Almost all emotions are gone, leaving the shell of a man hiding the two emotions he still readily knows how to feel: pain and sorrow. Hica's withdrawn into himself, a leaving breathing doll to be played around with. To some he gets boring quickly, to others he's fascinating, and to the rare select he's a sweet man.
History:Hica grew up in a place called Eshiraya, a place far away, now a vassal nation. It had been a place of horsemen and tribes, uncivilized to the outer world's eyes. Because it was invaded, Eshiraya's native race was persecuted, slaughtered, the tribes fleeding before their oppressor's blade on famously swift horses. Those captured were often sold as slaves.
Hica was fortunate enough to live in the exact middle of his country, in a small tribe that was often overlooked, or able to slip away without fighting. So this continued for nearly fifteen years.
Hica had an older brother, Telino(tee-lie-noh). When Hica was very young, about four, his brother contracted a fatal illness. He felt as his world was about to end, his big brother (who to him, was the coolest person in the world), was going to die. Telino's final wishes to Hica, driven into his head over and over again, were to be strong, and to take care of their mutual younger sister. He lingered for another year, before passing away and leaving his five-year-old brother with a nearly unhealthy desire to grow strong and protect his now two-year-old sister, Lala (lay-lay).
Until he was thirteen, Hica thought he did a wonderful job of protecting her, and watching her when their parents weren't around. No one dared pick on or bully Lala, not when Hica would come riding. He may be young, but he fought like a wounded animal. His skills with the traditional Eshiriyan weapons, the scimitar and shield, were advancing at an outstanding pace. His horsemanship, something every Eshiriyan takes pride in, was among the best for his age group. It was then the invaders first found the tribe.
The resulting skirmish was fierce, short, and bitter. Nearly twenty killed, thirty injured, and ten captured and taken away to be doomed to slavery, Hica and Lala's mother among the slaves. Hica has fought, the terrified child relying on his ingrained skills to slay a mounted warrior. He rode to his family's tent, taking Lala and fleeing beyond the horizon. Their horse was Eshiriyan breed, far superior to the wish washy trash the invaders rode. When the fighting died down, the invaders hurled back, Hica came back. He was praise for his valiant efforts.
After that life was hell for the slowly diminishing tribe. They were harassed every six months or so, the battles leaving dead, injured, and captives in their wake. Yet they endure, fleeing and living as the Eshiriyans always had. Hica and Lala had managed to escape death or slavery, Hica saving his sister time and time again. Attempts had been made to bring him down, but he always threw off the ropes and escaped, already showing signs of his immense strength. Their father was killed, and they were left alone.
Thus life passed until Hica was twenty, and Lala was seventeen. The tribe was attacked, yet this time it was different. They brought with them nets and bows, shooting down horses and tangling the horseless Eshiriyans in the nets. Hica was take down. Yet he wasn't ready to give up without a fight. He wanted to die rather than live his life in servitude to someone else. He ripped free of the netting, and cracked heads with his large arms. It was then he was given the scar on his face, a man finally wounding him so he could be brought down. Even then, Hica may not have surrendered. Yet Lala had been captured, and shown to him. Hica instantly dropped his aggression. If he could not protect her from being captured, he would go with his sister and keep the slavers from abusing her, taking her punishment as his own.
They were driven across the land, both in chains. Often stops were made to take new slaves, and trade with the new white settlements popping up across the land. It lengthened out the journey a great deal. Along the way slaves grew sick and died, but Hica and Lala endured. They finally reached the ocean after an extremely drawn out year of travel, and were made to crowd upon a small boat.
Almost all the plains-bred Eshiriyan were miserably sea-sick, Hica in particular. Here his sister finally repaid him for all the times he saved her life, tending to him and charming herbs to counteract the sickness from the sailors aboard ship. The three month journey was almost at a close, when disaster struck. A storm blew up, powerful and deadly. The ship started to founder, the over-packed bodies of slaves and stolen horses weighing it down. So the slavers started to throw them overboard.
They looked over each one, ferreting out the small men and the ugly women, the weak and the sick. They were finally all disposed up, but it wasn't enough. Hica was left alone, his incredible strength would fetch a high price at the market. Instead they selected Lala. Her older brother pleaded and begged then, throwing away all pride in an attempt to save her life one last time. He offered to switch his life for hers, but they refused. He was more valuable as property. Lala was dragged away from him, and cast overboard, still bound in chains.
The ship survived the storm, the weary sailors and heart-broken slaves arriving at the harbor. Hica had always been a little bit rebellious before, looking for ways to escape from the slavers. Now he was nearly driven mad by greif. If he was to survive, he was going to get away from that hell. In the end he finally used the strength that his slavers prized him for to break free. Snapping necks, breaking bones, he finally gained a captured Eshiriyan horse and leapt on the mare's back, riding away and gaining his freedom.
After that it was like all emotion drained out of him. He had gotten free because he had no reason to be a slave anymore, but now was little better than a broken and battered man. He now wanders, trying to find peace, and still living in fear that someone might try to recapture him as a slave.
Occupation: Jack-of-all-Trades, Hica often takes jobs as a bodygaurd. He's suited for such things.
Abilities and Skills:
Magical: Hica has extraordinary strength and stamina.
Race-based: His race has passed on a faint empathy. However, it manifests in being extra sensitive to animals, horses in particular. He isn't aware of it, the extent being extra aware of his mount. In humans isn't but nonexistent.
General/Nonmagical: Hica is an extremely accomplished horseman. Try to knock him off sometime, or travel with one more efficiently than he can. Hica was sat on a horse the second he could reach the stirrups, and rode constantly since then. His entire culture was steeped in horsemanship, so he can tell a good horse from a bad one in seconds.
Give the man a scimitar, and you have a deadly guard. Give him a shield and horse, and he's nearly unstoppable in terms of sheer power and skill. Hica's a blooded veteran in pitched battle, both on the ground and mounted. However, on the ground he's not nearly to the same level as other skilled warriors. Most of his expirience comes from mounted battle, and on the ground he suffers a handicap of simply not being used to it.
Items
Weapons: Hica has a large scimitar and a small round shield, the traditional weapons of his land.
Charms: None
Misc. Items: None
Companions/Pets: Hica is possession of one horse, the very one that he rode away when escaping from slavery. A large mare named Sashay (Say-shay), she's a deep rust color. In terms of horses, her porportions are close to perfect, and is extremely powerful. She was bred to be so. In terms of personality, she's got a strong spirit, and is almost too protective of her master. Not to mention the nasty habit of bucking off or trying to kill anyone else who comes near her when Hica's not around.
Race: Eshiriyan (explained below)
Patron God: In his homeland, he worshipped the god of Horses. Here, he tends to lean towards Maedra.
Homeland: Eshiraya (explained below as well)
Location: Wanderer
Physical Characteristics:
Age: 23
Hair Color: Silver
Eye Color: Crimson
Skin Tone: Brown
Height: 6' 6"
Weight: 220
Additonal Physical Attributes: Hica is pretty muscular, and hs built broad and strong. He is the classic picture of an Eshiriyan male, right now to the classic red eyes, the long sweeping silver hair (done up in a ponytail), and huge body. Hica's face is rather feminine for his size, and he could be considered good looking.
If not for the scar. The wound starts perhaps an inch from the right side of his lip, and travels back across his cheek to above his ear. If his hair were to be shaved, then one could see that it ends directly above the ear. How it avoided taking off part of the ear is a mystery. The other distinctive feature about Hica is his markings. Golden lines, perhaps two-third inches wide, twine across his back. They start on the very bottom of his back, ending on his shoulders. The faint pattern that can be deduced is that of a briar rose.
Hica's voice is a deep baritone, smooth though slightly booming. Something completely natural in a man his size. Hica used to speak in dialect, almost unintelligible. For example, he is were to say 'I'm going to the store,' his version would be 'Eem ging teh th' ster.' Much the dialect has been dropped, he was quickly taught to speak proper English, so his value as a slave would rise. However, he still have an accent, sometimes reverts to the dialect if stressed, and can easily switch between the two. The vowel he has the most trouble with is the 'o.'
Personality: Hica may have once been a smiling and laughing man, but now he's little more an epitome of the strong silent type. It seems like his favorite thing to do is to stand with hands crossed in front of him, and watch everyone and everything. Only speaking with addressed, only moving when told to, you could almost mistake him for a statue. It unerves a lot of people, expessially if they get a good look at his eyes when he's in such a state. They look dead, like he's forgotten how to feel.
There's a rare side that only a few ever see of Hica, and those are the ones who he instantly takes a liking to. Teenaged girls are the ones he most often takes a liking too. No, Hica is not a pervert. They simply remind him of his sister, whom he was spent his entire life protecting. He's marginally more talkative than usual, and will do small things to show a sort of awkward kindness, as if he's almost forgotten how to do such things. They may even be treated to one of his rare smiles, and an ever rarer laugh.
Almost all emotions are gone, leaving the shell of a man hiding the two emotions he still readily knows how to feel: pain and sorrow. Hica's withdrawn into himself, a leaving breathing doll to be played around with. To some he gets boring quickly, to others he's fascinating, and to the rare select he's a sweet man.
History:Hica grew up in a place called Eshiraya, a place far away, now a vassal nation. It had been a place of horsemen and tribes, uncivilized to the outer world's eyes. Because it was invaded, Eshiraya's native race was persecuted, slaughtered, the tribes fleeding before their oppressor's blade on famously swift horses. Those captured were often sold as slaves.
Hica was fortunate enough to live in the exact middle of his country, in a small tribe that was often overlooked, or able to slip away without fighting. So this continued for nearly fifteen years.
Hica had an older brother, Telino(tee-lie-noh). When Hica was very young, about four, his brother contracted a fatal illness. He felt as his world was about to end, his big brother (who to him, was the coolest person in the world), was going to die. Telino's final wishes to Hica, driven into his head over and over again, were to be strong, and to take care of their mutual younger sister. He lingered for another year, before passing away and leaving his five-year-old brother with a nearly unhealthy desire to grow strong and protect his now two-year-old sister, Lala (lay-lay).
Until he was thirteen, Hica thought he did a wonderful job of protecting her, and watching her when their parents weren't around. No one dared pick on or bully Lala, not when Hica would come riding. He may be young, but he fought like a wounded animal. His skills with the traditional Eshiriyan weapons, the scimitar and shield, were advancing at an outstanding pace. His horsemanship, something every Eshiriyan takes pride in, was among the best for his age group. It was then the invaders first found the tribe.
The resulting skirmish was fierce, short, and bitter. Nearly twenty killed, thirty injured, and ten captured and taken away to be doomed to slavery, Hica and Lala's mother among the slaves. Hica has fought, the terrified child relying on his ingrained skills to slay a mounted warrior. He rode to his family's tent, taking Lala and fleeing beyond the horizon. Their horse was Eshiriyan breed, far superior to the wish washy trash the invaders rode. When the fighting died down, the invaders hurled back, Hica came back. He was praise for his valiant efforts.
After that life was hell for the slowly diminishing tribe. They were harassed every six months or so, the battles leaving dead, injured, and captives in their wake. Yet they endure, fleeing and living as the Eshiriyans always had. Hica and Lala had managed to escape death or slavery, Hica saving his sister time and time again. Attempts had been made to bring him down, but he always threw off the ropes and escaped, already showing signs of his immense strength. Their father was killed, and they were left alone.
Thus life passed until Hica was twenty, and Lala was seventeen. The tribe was attacked, yet this time it was different. They brought with them nets and bows, shooting down horses and tangling the horseless Eshiriyans in the nets. Hica was take down. Yet he wasn't ready to give up without a fight. He wanted to die rather than live his life in servitude to someone else. He ripped free of the netting, and cracked heads with his large arms. It was then he was given the scar on his face, a man finally wounding him so he could be brought down. Even then, Hica may not have surrendered. Yet Lala had been captured, and shown to him. Hica instantly dropped his aggression. If he could not protect her from being captured, he would go with his sister and keep the slavers from abusing her, taking her punishment as his own.
They were driven across the land, both in chains. Often stops were made to take new slaves, and trade with the new white settlements popping up across the land. It lengthened out the journey a great deal. Along the way slaves grew sick and died, but Hica and Lala endured. They finally reached the ocean after an extremely drawn out year of travel, and were made to crowd upon a small boat.
Almost all the plains-bred Eshiriyan were miserably sea-sick, Hica in particular. Here his sister finally repaid him for all the times he saved her life, tending to him and charming herbs to counteract the sickness from the sailors aboard ship. The three month journey was almost at a close, when disaster struck. A storm blew up, powerful and deadly. The ship started to founder, the over-packed bodies of slaves and stolen horses weighing it down. So the slavers started to throw them overboard.
They looked over each one, ferreting out the small men and the ugly women, the weak and the sick. They were finally all disposed up, but it wasn't enough. Hica was left alone, his incredible strength would fetch a high price at the market. Instead they selected Lala. Her older brother pleaded and begged then, throwing away all pride in an attempt to save her life one last time. He offered to switch his life for hers, but they refused. He was more valuable as property. Lala was dragged away from him, and cast overboard, still bound in chains.
The ship survived the storm, the weary sailors and heart-broken slaves arriving at the harbor. Hica had always been a little bit rebellious before, looking for ways to escape from the slavers. Now he was nearly driven mad by greif. If he was to survive, he was going to get away from that hell. In the end he finally used the strength that his slavers prized him for to break free. Snapping necks, breaking bones, he finally gained a captured Eshiriyan horse and leapt on the mare's back, riding away and gaining his freedom.
After that it was like all emotion drained out of him. He had gotten free because he had no reason to be a slave anymore, but now was little better than a broken and battered man. He now wanders, trying to find peace, and still living in fear that someone might try to recapture him as a slave.
Occupation: Jack-of-all-Trades, Hica often takes jobs as a bodygaurd. He's suited for such things.
Abilities and Skills:
Magical: Hica has extraordinary strength and stamina.
Race-based: His race has passed on a faint empathy. However, it manifests in being extra sensitive to animals, horses in particular. He isn't aware of it, the extent being extra aware of his mount. In humans isn't but nonexistent.
General/Nonmagical: Hica is an extremely accomplished horseman. Try to knock him off sometime, or travel with one more efficiently than he can. Hica was sat on a horse the second he could reach the stirrups, and rode constantly since then. His entire culture was steeped in horsemanship, so he can tell a good horse from a bad one in seconds.
Give the man a scimitar, and you have a deadly guard. Give him a shield and horse, and he's nearly unstoppable in terms of sheer power and skill. Hica's a blooded veteran in pitched battle, both on the ground and mounted. However, on the ground he's not nearly to the same level as other skilled warriors. Most of his expirience comes from mounted battle, and on the ground he suffers a handicap of simply not being used to it.
Items
Weapons: Hica has a large scimitar and a small round shield, the traditional weapons of his land.
Charms: None
Misc. Items: None
Companions/Pets: Hica is possession of one horse, the very one that he rode away when escaping from slavery. A large mare named Sashay (Say-shay), she's a deep rust color. In terms of horses, her porportions are close to perfect, and is extremely powerful. She was bred to be so. In terms of personality, she's got a strong spirit, and is almost too protective of her master. Not to mention the nasty habit of bucking off or trying to kill anyone else who comes near her when Hica's not around.