Post by jesusman on Nov 23, 2013 0:00:16 GMT -5
Template
Player: Yes. He's a total player.
Character
Name: Colonel Fazakerly Butterworth-Toast
Age: 58
Gender: Man
King/Queendom: N/A
Appearances
An elderly male, with short, thick grey/white hair (from age. In his youth it would have been black), and a spectacular handlebar moustache and thick bushy eyebrows, all of similar colouration. His skin is worn, and faintly starting to wrinkle. He wears light khaki, and a pith helmet.
Basic Personality
He's pompous, and distinctly absent minded. He spends a lot of time reminiscing about his youth, which was spent hunting large game, such as Rhinos and White Elephants. Also, tea.
Likes: Tea, Hunting, Crumpets, Himself, Hunting, The Great Outdoors, Adventure, Adventure From the Safety of a Cosy Warm Home, The Good Old Days, Being an Old Man Who Will Die in a Few Years.
Dislikes: Baguettes, Garlic, Mimes, Art Galleries Named After Lavatories, Chefs, Cheese, Pungent Body Odour, Any Nationalities That Have All of These Traits.
Stats:
Strength: 10
Agility: 10
Constitution: 14
Stamina: 15
Intelligence: 13
Charisma: 10
RP Sample:
THUNK.
The crossbow bolt thumped deep into the elephant's side, waking her from the deep slumber she had been indulging in in startlement, as she had been laying quietly in the shade to stave off the midday heat.
Though the bolt was small, it drove in hard and fast, and it took only a moment for blood to begin to gush from the open wound, staining the vegetation around her and her now bewildered heard.
She let out a loud trumpeting, barely dragging herself to her feet before the second bolt tore through her heel, causing her to topple forward, face crashing into the ground, the mud and blood streaking her face, barely even beginning to be diluted by the tears that were already cascading from her face.
The heard stampeded. She knew she would, her young should flee to the safety of the wood, she should be left to keep the predator from chasing them too. Knowing this didn't make the pounding of feet across her back, or the pain of a stumble crushing her trunk any less hurtful though.
...
Colonel Fazakerly stood from his vantage spot, shading his eyes with one hand, his crossbow slung over his shoulder with the other.
"By jove, I think I got it! Oh, do let us have a jolly good gander at it, eh what?"
He strolled down casually, running a hand over one tusk as he reached it, barely even noticing the red-brown pool lapping at his boots, or the small, shallow breaths the mother let out.
"Good lord, these must weigh at least four and two score pounds! They shall make a fine prize, hung above my mantlepiece indeed!"
It didn't take him long to set about prying them from the body, the squeals and shrieks of pain completely ignored. Pursuing the young ones could wait. For now.
Secret Code
ABC12358B1251992
Player: Yes. He's a total player.
Character
Name: Colonel Fazakerly Butterworth-Toast
Age: 58
Gender: Man
King/Queendom: N/A
Appearances
An elderly male, with short, thick grey/white hair (from age. In his youth it would have been black), and a spectacular handlebar moustache and thick bushy eyebrows, all of similar colouration. His skin is worn, and faintly starting to wrinkle. He wears light khaki, and a pith helmet.
Basic Personality
He's pompous, and distinctly absent minded. He spends a lot of time reminiscing about his youth, which was spent hunting large game, such as Rhinos and White Elephants. Also, tea.
Likes: Tea, Hunting, Crumpets, Himself, Hunting, The Great Outdoors, Adventure, Adventure From the Safety of a Cosy Warm Home, The Good Old Days, Being an Old Man Who Will Die in a Few Years.
Dislikes: Baguettes, Garlic, Mimes, Art Galleries Named After Lavatories, Chefs, Cheese, Pungent Body Odour, Any Nationalities That Have All of These Traits.
Stats:
Strength: 10
Agility: 10
Constitution: 14
Stamina: 15
Intelligence: 13
Charisma: 10
RP Sample:
THUNK.
The crossbow bolt thumped deep into the elephant's side, waking her from the deep slumber she had been indulging in in startlement, as she had been laying quietly in the shade to stave off the midday heat.
Though the bolt was small, it drove in hard and fast, and it took only a moment for blood to begin to gush from the open wound, staining the vegetation around her and her now bewildered heard.
She let out a loud trumpeting, barely dragging herself to her feet before the second bolt tore through her heel, causing her to topple forward, face crashing into the ground, the mud and blood streaking her face, barely even beginning to be diluted by the tears that were already cascading from her face.
The heard stampeded. She knew she would, her young should flee to the safety of the wood, she should be left to keep the predator from chasing them too. Knowing this didn't make the pounding of feet across her back, or the pain of a stumble crushing her trunk any less hurtful though.
...
Colonel Fazakerly stood from his vantage spot, shading his eyes with one hand, his crossbow slung over his shoulder with the other.
"By jove, I think I got it! Oh, do let us have a jolly good gander at it, eh what?"
He strolled down casually, running a hand over one tusk as he reached it, barely even noticing the red-brown pool lapping at his boots, or the small, shallow breaths the mother let out.
"Good lord, these must weigh at least four and two score pounds! They shall make a fine prize, hung above my mantlepiece indeed!"
It didn't take him long to set about prying them from the body, the squeals and shrieks of pain completely ignored. Pursuing the young ones could wait. For now.
Secret Code
ABC12358B1251992