Description
Glancing over to Psyrel, you see a young, beautiful man
of enchanting impression. His eyes displayed like crystal
ewers in a shop, with perfectly smooth skin shaded with
patches of browns and darkened pigments.
His arms and brow is hastely covered with natural
paints of reddish and orange colors. Sizing up his
lithe and quickness, you notice he has
tightly weaved braids of thin, brown hair freely
wave with his movements like an organic flog.
His body is tightly fitted with a scavengers purse of
armaments, yet still seeming quite agile, you see that
Role
Learning the unlimits of freedom
Added Tue Aug 3 17:13:06 2004 at level 51:
.
.
.
.
. Nearly have a century has past now, as Psyrel has learned
. to ride his waves on his own, and lead packs in great hunts
. while crying out in battle his tales of woe, and ballads of imspiration
.
. From the last few hundred years, since Psyrel has defended
. his own branch without the refuge of the primevil spirit, long
. he does for the days to come, when his life can at peace, and
. the raging war is over when the oppresive soldiers of order
. are wiped from Thar-Eris's breast. Searching deep inside
. he bottom of every bottle, he looks for an antedote to the pain
. he carries, mourning for Thar-Eris has the roads and cities of
. the slavers grip her heart, strangling his homelands territories away.
. His uncanny temper and impulsive eagerness to lash
. out at his enemies grows even stronger the more he indulges
. his pain, yet consitantly, gathering his fetters then springing
. to the hunt soon as he is able.
.
. Not long had passed before now, when Psyrel's bitterness nearly
. overwhelmed him to the point of sending his own spirit, to the
. azure fields. As Psyrel was finishing off a barrel of stolen dwarf
. made ale, a young druid within his homeland holy grove
. aproached him, to ask his boggle. Glancing down at the young
. druid Psyrel had said to him, he was returning to Thar-eris, where
. it can never be tainted, and he can find rest.
. Curious, the young druid Hasthur ask him.. "What is Thar-Eris?"
.
. Nearly awestruck, the drunkard bard beckoned the druid to sit
. with him a while, and hear his songs and tales of what once was
. in ancients times, and what he fights for, again to be. After
. several hours of listening, and conversation, Psyrel bid the
. young and newly enlightened druid good travels and away
. he went into the woods past, with a newfound wisdom.
.
.
. As Psyrel had rediscovered his harmony with himself and
. the natural kin of his within the wilds, he set steady aim
. to continue his fight against his enemies, and listen and sing
. to any willing to take part in the Rise of Thar-Eris and
. strike against oppression with fury, deciet, and wrath of
. the Ancients.
Role 1
Added Wed Jul 28 14:44:26 2004 at level 44:
Several centuries ago, a youngling wood-elf was found,
lying alone and naked within the soft foliage
of the Holy Grove by several inhabitant druids.
The child elf was unscaved in any way, sleeping
sound as the harmony of his surroundings. Without
explaination or hesitation, the local territories high
Druid allowed him to be taken into their tribe.
Raising Psyrel, to see the world with the eyes of
a beast, letting his spirit guide his actions and desires.
Long preached of the dangers that are amongst the
world, in hopes that this motherless child would find
peace, in his tune to the wilds, and preserving all that is.
When Psyrel was nearly to adulthood, his hunting skills
and music skills from deep study had become strong enough
as to where he was able to be independant and roam
the plains without supervision or protection.
Now, Psyrel was never one to socialize, or make a
large amount of friends. Never knowing his true
birth history, and being wood-elf amongst a world
where nearly every horizon there are city folk within sights,
he was a very hermitted and bitter person towards
most outsiders of the holy grove. Quick impulse to spout
a smart remark, or lie to his benefit. Those few whom have role + befriended him generally have a large amount of patience.
Lacking as he was in his social skills and manners, his singing
voice was a gem in the briars, clear as crystal, and convincing
melodies that would drift any listener off, hearing them.
Using his abilities, he joined with the rebels of the Refuge,
a group of Outlanders who also seek out to destroy what
has come to lessen the groves territories, the civilised that
clear way lands of his homelands, to build buildings and
cities.