Post by Rehjul on Feb 5, 2014 2:02:05 GMT -5
Name
Samaros, Rehjul
Alias
Commonly uses the alias 'Knight,' among numerous other monikers, during predicaments in which he'd prefer his true name to not be disclosed.
Birth Date
25 / Twenty-five
Appearance
Rehjul stands at exactly six feet, boasting a fairly muscular build with naturally mocha skin, tanned darker still through many days spent in the sun.
Closely cropped, dark black hair rests atop his head - beneath that, sit two evenly placed eyes, resembling almonds in both color and shape. His nose is of an average size, and his lips are dark, and full.
His attire varies daily, depending on the location that he might be in, but his favorite, and therefore most common attire consists of a simple wool shirt atop a pair of long pants. In his possession, Rehjul also possesses a pair of exquisite boots that have various gold symbols etched into them, the likes of which he is exceptionally proud of. Unbeknownst to many of those around him, Rehjul typically dons a thin sheet of chain mail beneath his shirt, to serve as additional protection.
Magic User?
Yes.
Statistics
- Strength: 2
- Stamina: 6
- Speed: 7
Theme Song
The Nature of Our Kind
History
Rehjul was raised in the city of Tebim, the second-born child of the Samaros family. The Samaros were of a wealthier, noble heritage, and as such were held in high regard within the walls of Tebim, and many places elsewhere. Because of this, Rehjul was gifted with opportunities throughout his childhood that nary an elder could have claimed to have also experienced. Unlike many of the children, who often grew and died without having ever left the walls of the city (for there was, in reality, no need to), Rehjul was able to tread far beyond its walls frequently while on various trips with his father. This inspired in him a sense of wanderlust.
At a younger age, his aspirations were to join the city's military, and act as a protector of sorts to those around him - his father and mother both prohibited him from this, going as far as to save him from the city's mandatory draft, when he came upon the appropriate age.
In an act of rebellion fueled by youthful rashfulness, Rehjul departed from the city mere nights later after a brief series of preparations and goodbyes. He left his home at the age of thirteen, as a stowaway on the military vessel Titun, set to patrol the length of Gold Road. This plan of course soon left him exposed, and once discovered, plans were made to return him to his family.
This may have marked the end of much of his story, had fate not intervened. Titun was overran not long after by a small armada of pirates - these were the things the crew was sent to vanquish, but not a person was aware at how organized and well-armed the criminals had become. Many of the sailors, having been recruited initially by the draft, willingly turned themselves over to the pirates as new vassals. The rest were taken as prisoners to be ransomed back to their military. Daring not go back to Tebim, Rehjul stood beside the newly formed rows of men willing to sacrifice their lives of old for a fresher, shinier start.
The next four years of Rehjul's life were to be spent as a pirate; sailing amongst the northern and southern seas; taking what the eye desired for no reason other than it being wanted. It was a fulfilling life, if still a cruel one. When initially brought aboard, the crewmates would sooner spit in his eye than show the child a lick of respect, and rightfully so; he lacked the endurance necessary to even swab the decks, and still held much reluctance to the idea of encompassing such a life. In time, however, he was shown that there was indeed honor among thieves and taught how to wield a sword. It would be throughout his career as a swashbuckler that he discovered a more form of talents.
In a clash with northern military might, Rehjul and several of his brothers in crime found themselves on the wrong boat in a clash of cannons - the sinking one. The warriors from the north dared not venture over, for their heavy armor promised a swift descent into the waves below. This did not stop them from making use of their cannons, and make use they did; the sinking ship was all but falling apart. Debris rained down onto its inhabitants, and it is here Rehjul found himself. Trapped below deck in a vessel taking on both water and cannonfire. Many had already been crushed by the ship's collapsing into itself, and so the teen was surprised to find himself relatively calm when a piece of lumber landed atop him. The panic sprung moments later, and with it came more debris. His first true brush with death, the futility of his own mortality rushed into every crevice of his mind. Rehjul sought desperately for anything to cling onto, to maintain the spark that enabled him to think, and speak, and eat - and found it in the crewmates struggling beside him. Within moments, their own sparks were snuffed, but Rehjul's - his burned brightly. The exchange was too much to process and he slipped into the sweet recess of unconsciousness. When he awoke, he was being fished out by an allied pirate ship. Funny that - he was the only survivor.
Ashamed and terrified of his actions, he made to the only place he knew capable of providing answers - his home. The return journey spanned the course of a year, seeing constant interruptions. Upon arrival, he found the city to have remained largely the same. All remained the same but the faces. Within hours of searching, he learned his mother to have been killed by insurgents distributed by the northern kingdoms. His father's whereabouts were unknown; what was known was that Rehjul had no home to return to.
It was with this knowledge that he made for The Throne, using much of his remaining savings to get there. Here he found the answers he was looking for, but only in part. He knew the how, but not the why. Another year of his life past, he picked roots once more and made for the Middle Continent.
The Nature of Our Kind
History
Rehjul was raised in the city of Tebim, the second-born child of the Samaros family. The Samaros were of a wealthier, noble heritage, and as such were held in high regard within the walls of Tebim, and many places elsewhere. Because of this, Rehjul was gifted with opportunities throughout his childhood that nary an elder could have claimed to have also experienced. Unlike many of the children, who often grew and died without having ever left the walls of the city (for there was, in reality, no need to), Rehjul was able to tread far beyond its walls frequently while on various trips with his father. This inspired in him a sense of wanderlust.
At a younger age, his aspirations were to join the city's military, and act as a protector of sorts to those around him - his father and mother both prohibited him from this, going as far as to save him from the city's mandatory draft, when he came upon the appropriate age.
In an act of rebellion fueled by youthful rashfulness, Rehjul departed from the city mere nights later after a brief series of preparations and goodbyes. He left his home at the age of thirteen, as a stowaway on the military vessel Titun, set to patrol the length of Gold Road. This plan of course soon left him exposed, and once discovered, plans were made to return him to his family.
This may have marked the end of much of his story, had fate not intervened. Titun was overran not long after by a small armada of pirates - these were the things the crew was sent to vanquish, but not a person was aware at how organized and well-armed the criminals had become. Many of the sailors, having been recruited initially by the draft, willingly turned themselves over to the pirates as new vassals. The rest were taken as prisoners to be ransomed back to their military. Daring not go back to Tebim, Rehjul stood beside the newly formed rows of men willing to sacrifice their lives of old for a fresher, shinier start.
The next four years of Rehjul's life were to be spent as a pirate; sailing amongst the northern and southern seas; taking what the eye desired for no reason other than it being wanted. It was a fulfilling life, if still a cruel one. When initially brought aboard, the crewmates would sooner spit in his eye than show the child a lick of respect, and rightfully so; he lacked the endurance necessary to even swab the decks, and still held much reluctance to the idea of encompassing such a life. In time, however, he was shown that there was indeed honor among thieves and taught how to wield a sword. It would be throughout his career as a swashbuckler that he discovered a more form of talents.
In a clash with northern military might, Rehjul and several of his brothers in crime found themselves on the wrong boat in a clash of cannons - the sinking one. The warriors from the north dared not venture over, for their heavy armor promised a swift descent into the waves below. This did not stop them from making use of their cannons, and make use they did; the sinking ship was all but falling apart. Debris rained down onto its inhabitants, and it is here Rehjul found himself. Trapped below deck in a vessel taking on both water and cannonfire. Many had already been crushed by the ship's collapsing into itself, and so the teen was surprised to find himself relatively calm when a piece of lumber landed atop him. The panic sprung moments later, and with it came more debris. His first true brush with death, the futility of his own mortality rushed into every crevice of his mind. Rehjul sought desperately for anything to cling onto, to maintain the spark that enabled him to think, and speak, and eat - and found it in the crewmates struggling beside him. Within moments, their own sparks were snuffed, but Rehjul's - his burned brightly. The exchange was too much to process and he slipped into the sweet recess of unconsciousness. When he awoke, he was being fished out by an allied pirate ship. Funny that - he was the only survivor.
Ashamed and terrified of his actions, he made to the only place he knew capable of providing answers - his home. The return journey spanned the course of a year, seeing constant interruptions. Upon arrival, he found the city to have remained largely the same. All remained the same but the faces. Within hours of searching, he learned his mother to have been killed by insurgents distributed by the northern kingdoms. His father's whereabouts were unknown; what was known was that Rehjul had no home to return to.
It was with this knowledge that he made for The Throne, using much of his remaining savings to get there. Here he found the answers he was looking for, but only in part. He knew the how, but not the why. Another year of his life past, he picked roots once more and made for the Middle Continent.
Boons
- Wields Den's bloodline.
- Has a bit of experience with single-handed blades.
Banes
- Is unable to willfully make use of the blood, on most occasions.
- Fears to use the blood.
- Suffered a deep laceration to his right (prominent) wrist in the past, lessens his mobility, weakens finesse with said hand.
Affiliation
Associates occasionally with the Prior.
Housing
None; wherever he lays his head.
Occupation
None; ex-pirate.
Weapon
None, currently weaponless.
Pet(s)
None.
Inventory
Iron Pieces: 0
Silver Pieces: 5
Golden Pieces: 1
A depressingly empty purse.
An old tome stolen from the decks of his last ship describing certain vegetation found throughout the mass of the Middle Continent.
His shoes. Fitted during his stay in Den's Throne; spending the five gold pieces on them wasn't such a great idea in hindsight.