phredd
04-23-2003, 11:12 PM
Urho Karinnar was born in the Citadel of Helsinn in a time of
relative peace for the Elven realm. His childhood was
unexceptional and it seemed that he was too, despite the relative
paucity of Elven children. He was uninspired and impetuous when
he reached his majority and spent a generation, as the humans
reckon these things, in the role of a servitor to various
Captains and Lieutenants. It took a good few decades of service
to Protectors before Urho moved on from his callow ways and into
more fitting service as a Soldier-Protector.
Trained in ways martial, Urho discovered his love for the bow and
the pure art of archery, in which he excelled. Finally coming
into his own, he served Helsinn well and earned a place among the
Rangers. Even here his skill and ardour were worthy of remark.
The cycle of the seasons moved along, as did the cycle of the
wars of men. Urho protected his realm from warriors and other
invaders, never giving a thought to the mortal lives he would
snuff out. His attention was focused inward towards developing
his weapon skills to their greatest potential. Eventually, the
disruptions from men waned and Urho's love of archery expanded
into a love for the craft of bow singing.
Creating weapons of great beauty and power brought him respect
and reknown. When orcs from the north began a concerted campaign,
Urho became a lieutenant and protected his home and people. He
lost many good friends and companions to the depradations of the
orcs before it was all over, stirring up the first wellings of
conscious grief Urho had known. Years of horrendous battle and
then decades of border skirmishes rubbed those feelings raw.
Urho begain to dream of his days as a ranger. He saw again the
faces of those he killed with no offer of quarter. These dreams
were infrequent, but they troubled him greatly.
And so it was that another cycle of the wars of men brought waves
of refugees to the borders of Helsinn. No longer a ranger, Urho
was not required to take part in the culling this time around.
But the dreams increased in frequency. Soon, he began wander the
woods alone, avoiding company and also the dreams.
It was on one of these walks that everything changed for Urho in
an instant of clarity.
Walking by moonlight along a dry streambed, Urho happened upon
another refugee incursion. Hundreds of yards away, he could see
two children marching doggedly with their mother, all holding
hands. He could also see what they could not, a ranger trailing
them and preparing to end their lives instantly with three quick
swift arrows.
His dreams and his grief for lost companions came together in an
instant, obliterating the divide in his heart between fey and
mortal. All lives, even those of the ageless Elves, could be
snuffed out in an instant. All were precious, not just those of
the Elect.
The ranger had closed the gap by this point and the lost ones
were coming towards a treeless stretch of bank along the dry
riverbed. Their lives would soon be forfeit.
Urho broke into a dead run towards them all, unsure of what
exactly he would do, but committed to preventing more violent
death. He was swift and determined. However, the ranger had
already started firing. One. The mother of the children fell face
down, the base of her skull split open by an arrow. Two. The
young boy had little time to cry horror before he too had been
killed by an expert shot. Three.
Urho stretched himself to the limits of his sinews and interposed
himself between the ranger and the remaining child, a girl barely
old enough to walk on her own. the arrow meant for her plunged
into Urho's left shoulder and out his back, tearing muscle and
sinew. Urho's vision flashed white, then steadied.
Captain Rupponen, who'd been his commanding officer in the
rangers leapt lightly down from the tree he'd been in. He said
nothing as he attempted to stare down Urho while nocking another
arrow. As he slowly lifted the bow to take aim, Urho whirled and
snatched up the screaming girl, ignoring the snapping deep within
his shoulder.
Pelting away from Rupponen, he heard two arrows, then a third,
skitter through the underbrush. They missed by yards. Urho kept
running as a haze of red limned his vision and the howling of the
child rattled inside his head.
The memory of the days that followed is hazy, but Urho covered
miles on foot, leaving the domain of Halsinn far behind before he
finally collapsed in a small village bereft of most all its
inhabitants. A midwife, one of the few who'd avoided the army
raids and bandit attacks, found him there, unconscious with the
little girl hugging him and sobbing for her mother. His shoulder
was a ruin of bone and splinters, and it was all the midwife
could do to save his life. She could not save his left arm.
Urho recovered from this setback quickly, both physically and
mentally. He'd been prepared to accept whatever the consequences
of his actions would be on what turned out to be his last day in
Halsinn. Still weak, but able to walk just two weeks after the
amputation of his arm, Urho set out on the road to the the very
heart of the human kingdoms, young girl in tow.
Urho would adopt that girl, Else, as his daughter after they
found shelter in an outcast community far from the front lines of
the current wars. She grew to adulthood and they became pillars
of a community that slowly grew into prosperity with the help of
surreptitious fey assisstance. The villagers all understood, but
kept this secret within the confines of the community. Urho
avoided outsiders.
Soon, Else married and gave her father grandchildren, including a
number of boys. Urho joyfully taught them to take up the bow that
he would never fire again, though he still crafted them with
skill and care (if a good deal more slowly than when he had two
hands). Children grew up and some moved on to better things
outside the village. Else aged gracefully, but ineveitably, and
her youngest son, Kelvin, joined the ranks of the village elders.
Else died in her sleep after 66 good years, bringing grief to
Urho's heart, but also joy in knowing she lived well all the
years she was given. Village life continued as it had.
But then war came. First the village men were conscripted,
including Kelvin. Then goods were confiscated. Then came the
raids. Strong bows helped ward them off, but numbers were
overwhelming. It took five years for the village to be slowly
ground away under the onslaught. Urho's adopted family and
community were scattered. Urho was the last to leave, packing up
what meagre belongings he had and hitting the road.
A few days on, he was overtaken by a regiment of the local Duke's
forces, a happy accident, since they were under the command of
Kelvin, newly promoted to Captain. Things were finally winding
down, and Kelvin had taken the indirect route hoping to see the
man he considered his grandfather and now looked 20 years younger
than he. Circumstances being what they were, there was a night of
conversation as the regiment camped, then a brief embrace before
the elf and his grandson went on their way.
Urho is an exile again, letting the roads take him where they
will.
--
Urho Karinnar, Exiled Wanderer
Age 312 years
Perception: B4, Will: G4, Agility: B7, Speed: B7, Power: B4,
Forte: B4
Reflexes: B6, Health: B5, Steel: B7, Mortal Wound: B10
Skills: Read B2, Alarm G2, Observation Training, Bow G4,
Bow-Craft G5, Command G3, Songs of Paths & Ways G2, Elven Script
B2, Armor Training, Knives B5, Fletcher B6, Mend B4, Foraging B2,
Throwing B3, Song of Soothing G4, Song of Healing G4, Running,
Shield Training, Sword B3, Orienteering B2, Brewing B2,
Streetwise B2, Human-wise B2, Blacksmith B2
Gear: Helmet, Mail Hauberk, boots, leather gloves, non-descript
clothing, knives - weighted for throwing (5), coil of elven rope,
bow-making tools, money belt, rain cloak, tinderbox, copper mug,
copper spoon and fork, pack-mule
Contacts: Captain Kelvin Jansson, Grandson (Important, Loyal,
Family) Captain Rupponen (Important, Antagonistic)
Traits: First Born, Born Under Silver Stars, Essence of the
Earth, Fair, Statuesque, Keen Sight, Grief [7], Humility, Lift
Heavy Things, Waiting, Missing Left Arm, Determined, Fortitude
Instincts: Assess Wood for Bow-Craft Potential, Avoid Elves, Keep
Right Side Towards Foes
Beliefs: All life has value, Kelvin is my grandson, A well
crafted bow is a thing of beauty
Lifepaths: born Citadel, Servitor, Servitor, Soldier-Protector,
Lead to Protector, Ranger, Bowyer, Lieutenant, Lead to
Wilderness, Wanderer.
relative peace for the Elven realm. His childhood was
unexceptional and it seemed that he was too, despite the relative
paucity of Elven children. He was uninspired and impetuous when
he reached his majority and spent a generation, as the humans
reckon these things, in the role of a servitor to various
Captains and Lieutenants. It took a good few decades of service
to Protectors before Urho moved on from his callow ways and into
more fitting service as a Soldier-Protector.
Trained in ways martial, Urho discovered his love for the bow and
the pure art of archery, in which he excelled. Finally coming
into his own, he served Helsinn well and earned a place among the
Rangers. Even here his skill and ardour were worthy of remark.
The cycle of the seasons moved along, as did the cycle of the
wars of men. Urho protected his realm from warriors and other
invaders, never giving a thought to the mortal lives he would
snuff out. His attention was focused inward towards developing
his weapon skills to their greatest potential. Eventually, the
disruptions from men waned and Urho's love of archery expanded
into a love for the craft of bow singing.
Creating weapons of great beauty and power brought him respect
and reknown. When orcs from the north began a concerted campaign,
Urho became a lieutenant and protected his home and people. He
lost many good friends and companions to the depradations of the
orcs before it was all over, stirring up the first wellings of
conscious grief Urho had known. Years of horrendous battle and
then decades of border skirmishes rubbed those feelings raw.
Urho begain to dream of his days as a ranger. He saw again the
faces of those he killed with no offer of quarter. These dreams
were infrequent, but they troubled him greatly.
And so it was that another cycle of the wars of men brought waves
of refugees to the borders of Helsinn. No longer a ranger, Urho
was not required to take part in the culling this time around.
But the dreams increased in frequency. Soon, he began wander the
woods alone, avoiding company and also the dreams.
It was on one of these walks that everything changed for Urho in
an instant of clarity.
Walking by moonlight along a dry streambed, Urho happened upon
another refugee incursion. Hundreds of yards away, he could see
two children marching doggedly with their mother, all holding
hands. He could also see what they could not, a ranger trailing
them and preparing to end their lives instantly with three quick
swift arrows.
His dreams and his grief for lost companions came together in an
instant, obliterating the divide in his heart between fey and
mortal. All lives, even those of the ageless Elves, could be
snuffed out in an instant. All were precious, not just those of
the Elect.
The ranger had closed the gap by this point and the lost ones
were coming towards a treeless stretch of bank along the dry
riverbed. Their lives would soon be forfeit.
Urho broke into a dead run towards them all, unsure of what
exactly he would do, but committed to preventing more violent
death. He was swift and determined. However, the ranger had
already started firing. One. The mother of the children fell face
down, the base of her skull split open by an arrow. Two. The
young boy had little time to cry horror before he too had been
killed by an expert shot. Three.
Urho stretched himself to the limits of his sinews and interposed
himself between the ranger and the remaining child, a girl barely
old enough to walk on her own. the arrow meant for her plunged
into Urho's left shoulder and out his back, tearing muscle and
sinew. Urho's vision flashed white, then steadied.
Captain Rupponen, who'd been his commanding officer in the
rangers leapt lightly down from the tree he'd been in. He said
nothing as he attempted to stare down Urho while nocking another
arrow. As he slowly lifted the bow to take aim, Urho whirled and
snatched up the screaming girl, ignoring the snapping deep within
his shoulder.
Pelting away from Rupponen, he heard two arrows, then a third,
skitter through the underbrush. They missed by yards. Urho kept
running as a haze of red limned his vision and the howling of the
child rattled inside his head.
The memory of the days that followed is hazy, but Urho covered
miles on foot, leaving the domain of Halsinn far behind before he
finally collapsed in a small village bereft of most all its
inhabitants. A midwife, one of the few who'd avoided the army
raids and bandit attacks, found him there, unconscious with the
little girl hugging him and sobbing for her mother. His shoulder
was a ruin of bone and splinters, and it was all the midwife
could do to save his life. She could not save his left arm.
Urho recovered from this setback quickly, both physically and
mentally. He'd been prepared to accept whatever the consequences
of his actions would be on what turned out to be his last day in
Halsinn. Still weak, but able to walk just two weeks after the
amputation of his arm, Urho set out on the road to the the very
heart of the human kingdoms, young girl in tow.
Urho would adopt that girl, Else, as his daughter after they
found shelter in an outcast community far from the front lines of
the current wars. She grew to adulthood and they became pillars
of a community that slowly grew into prosperity with the help of
surreptitious fey assisstance. The villagers all understood, but
kept this secret within the confines of the community. Urho
avoided outsiders.
Soon, Else married and gave her father grandchildren, including a
number of boys. Urho joyfully taught them to take up the bow that
he would never fire again, though he still crafted them with
skill and care (if a good deal more slowly than when he had two
hands). Children grew up and some moved on to better things
outside the village. Else aged gracefully, but ineveitably, and
her youngest son, Kelvin, joined the ranks of the village elders.
Else died in her sleep after 66 good years, bringing grief to
Urho's heart, but also joy in knowing she lived well all the
years she was given. Village life continued as it had.
But then war came. First the village men were conscripted,
including Kelvin. Then goods were confiscated. Then came the
raids. Strong bows helped ward them off, but numbers were
overwhelming. It took five years for the village to be slowly
ground away under the onslaught. Urho's adopted family and
community were scattered. Urho was the last to leave, packing up
what meagre belongings he had and hitting the road.
A few days on, he was overtaken by a regiment of the local Duke's
forces, a happy accident, since they were under the command of
Kelvin, newly promoted to Captain. Things were finally winding
down, and Kelvin had taken the indirect route hoping to see the
man he considered his grandfather and now looked 20 years younger
than he. Circumstances being what they were, there was a night of
conversation as the regiment camped, then a brief embrace before
the elf and his grandson went on their way.
Urho is an exile again, letting the roads take him where they
will.
--
Urho Karinnar, Exiled Wanderer
Age 312 years
Perception: B4, Will: G4, Agility: B7, Speed: B7, Power: B4,
Forte: B4
Reflexes: B6, Health: B5, Steel: B7, Mortal Wound: B10
Skills: Read B2, Alarm G2, Observation Training, Bow G4,
Bow-Craft G5, Command G3, Songs of Paths & Ways G2, Elven Script
B2, Armor Training, Knives B5, Fletcher B6, Mend B4, Foraging B2,
Throwing B3, Song of Soothing G4, Song of Healing G4, Running,
Shield Training, Sword B3, Orienteering B2, Brewing B2,
Streetwise B2, Human-wise B2, Blacksmith B2
Gear: Helmet, Mail Hauberk, boots, leather gloves, non-descript
clothing, knives - weighted for throwing (5), coil of elven rope,
bow-making tools, money belt, rain cloak, tinderbox, copper mug,
copper spoon and fork, pack-mule
Contacts: Captain Kelvin Jansson, Grandson (Important, Loyal,
Family) Captain Rupponen (Important, Antagonistic)
Traits: First Born, Born Under Silver Stars, Essence of the
Earth, Fair, Statuesque, Keen Sight, Grief [7], Humility, Lift
Heavy Things, Waiting, Missing Left Arm, Determined, Fortitude
Instincts: Assess Wood for Bow-Craft Potential, Avoid Elves, Keep
Right Side Towards Foes
Beliefs: All life has value, Kelvin is my grandson, A well
crafted bow is a thing of beauty
Lifepaths: born Citadel, Servitor, Servitor, Soldier-Protector,
Lead to Protector, Ranger, Bowyer, Lieutenant, Lead to
Wilderness, Wanderer.