Posted for Review - Rayold Elmller

[Zahn]

[i.] -- Schematics: (subject to change)

Full Name: Rayold Elmller
Alias: Ebrithil Argetgrind (Master of the Silvergate)
Age: 326
Apparent Age: 27
Race: Elf
Height: 187.96 cm
Weight: 76.20 kg
Date of Birth: AoR 616, NBK / GD -312
Place of Birth: Ilia Fëon
Occupation: (Rider applicant)
Alignment: Neutral / Good
Faction: None

[ii.] -- Attributes:

Hair: Black
Eyes: Blue
Build: Lean, muscular
Handed: Ambidextrous

[iii.] -- Demeanor:

Personality Traits: Broody, quiet
Likes: Solitude, music
Dislikes: Cowards, violence
Flaws: Anti-social, pessimist

[iv.] -- Equipment: (subject to change)

Weapons: Rider-sword [Hand-and-a-Half] (emerald)
Armor: Plate with chain underlay

[v.] -- Biography: (subject to change)

Born in the late years of the Age of Peace, Rayold was of a noble bloodline, and prospered
in the shadow of his father - a lord and mighty warrior. Since he was young he trained in
that shadow, forced to be perfect - any mistake he made swiftly punished. He didn't think
much of the outside world, till the day he turned 28 and war came to his doorstep - his father
called up with many others to go to the relief of the King, Evandar, who was being besieged
by the Wyrdfell Galbatorix, while he remained with others to guard the city.

Soon after his father's downfall, Rayold became withdrawn - living outside Ilia Fëon much
of the time and avoiding contact with his kin, spending his time playing his harp and singing
to the forest. Travelling to the battefield outside Ilirea (Urû'baen), there he stumbled upon a
subterranean cavern. Searching his find, he came upon a small green stone. Returning to
Du Weldenvarden he made himself a home outside Ilia Fëon, with the entrace guarded by
trees sung into the shape of a silvergate, which would later earn him his nickname - Ebrithil
Argetgrind. In time the egg would hatch, selecting him as its Rider. At the age of 100, Rayold
entered into training with Osthato Chetowä - Oromis, outside Ellesméra.

He would train with Oromis for many years, living alongside the experienced Dragonrider
and learning everything he could - though he had been born when the Riders still reigned,
he hadn't taken much interest in them. After Oromis and Rayold mutually agreed he had
learned all he could, he departed back to his home outside Ilia Fëon and has resided there
since - still choosing to remain in solitude with his dragon, Glaleth.

---

General

Username: Zahn
Character Name: Rayold Elmller
Character Age: 326
Race of Character: Elf
Side: Neutral, though more likely to lean towards the Varden

Physical Description
209.85.12.234/7245/74/upload/p12188895.jpg <- Rayold
209.85.12.234/7245/74/upload/p12169960.jpg <- Glaleth

Clothing: Blue Robe (Silver Embroidered), Green Tunic / Breeches
General Description: Rayold is your standard elf: Tall and Skinny. He
has flowing back hair, and large blue eyes - though, unlike his brethren, his
gaze is tainted with an inner sorrow. He has no distinguishing scars or tattoos.
Weapons Carried: Hand-and-a-Half Sword

Skills and Weaknesses

Preferred Weapon:
- Hand-and-a-Half Sword
Combat Skills:
- Ambidexterity
- Blind-Fight
- Weapon Finesse: Longsword
- Uncanny Dodge
Other Skills:
- Darkvision
- Innuendo
- Knowledge (arcana)
- Knowledge (nature)
- Knowledge (history)
Weaknesses:
- Reluctant to fight
- Untrusting

Other

Personality: Withdrawn, he is secretive and speaks only when it is required
Other Details: Though he abhors violence, he is capable of it

[Vrael Edoc'sil]

ALright, interesting character. However, before I review this, I must ask that you use the default character creation form. Now it's been a long time, but I believe that you can find it in the rules. If not, look at some previous character's, and they'll have the correct form. Thanks so much!

[Zahn]

I've always used the format I original posted it, but I put it into your format right below.

[Vrael Edoc'sil]

Unfortunately, I don't mean to sound rude but I can't think of another way to put this. Is really doesn't matter. What the goal of our own character forms is to get you to improve your writing sckills. I can see that you have some, as result of your history, which you wrote wonderfully. We are trying to get you to write good lengthed character bios, in paragraph form. Not listing. I know listing can be so much eaier, but this is trying to get you to really dive into your character description. Maybe instead of Eyes: blue you could have somethin along the lines of "His eyes were deep shades of sapphires, which glistened in moonlight. Most people thought that his eyes were one of his best attributes because they were concidered to be of such a brilliant color that people looked into them and were destined to only speak only the truth."

Just let your imagination run. I'm sure you're fully capable of doing this. If you seriously have a problem with this, you can bring it up with me, but this is standard for all members. Though it may take you a bit to find my own bio... I may need to update it... But anyways, if you could do this, it would be much appreciated.

[Zahn]

Here's a half-hearted attempt. I think it's rather unnecessary, but it's your board...

---

Clothing: Rayold mostly wears simple blue robes, embroidered most often in silver runes, over green tunics with matching breeches. He prefers to go barefoot, to feel his connection with the earth beneath him. Though he does not often in engage in conflict, he does keep his armor handy and is never without his sword. When he does plan on going into battle, or when he trains, he adorns himself in a hauberk of fine Elven chainmail, over a regular black tunic, black bracers with inlaid silver, similar black pants, and a pair of thick boots. Rayold doesn't often leave his home, so he keeps no ceremonial robes or travelling clothes. He does not own jewerly of any sort, and has very little interest in his appearance.

General Description: Physically, Rayold is your standard elf: Tall and Skinny. Standing at 187.96cm (74in, or 6' 2") and weighing in at 76.20kg (168lbs), he has flowing back hair that reaches past his shoulders, and large, piercing blue eyes - though, unlike his brethren, his gaze is tainted with an inner sorrow. He has no distinguishing scars or tattoos, and is rather pale. He is fit, even for an Elf, as he trains regularly with, and sometimes without, his dragon, Glaleth. Though he may strike an imposing figure, he is rather timid - and would rather spend time with his nose among the scrolls in his library than debating with another creature (outside Glaleth). The time spent reading, and training with Oromis, has leant him quite a knowledge on a myriad of subjects; from animals to nations, politics to histories, and several others.

Personality: Rayold is a hermit, rarely leaving his home outside Ilia Fëon. He does not allow many others to get to know him, heavily guarding his emotions and never acting upon impulse. He does not speak often, and then only what must be said - no more, no less. He is honest, and once he has given his word - he always keeps it. He holds no prejudices, though he has found through his own experience most Urgal to be foul, untrustworthy creatures and holds a hatred for them. His attitude towards Humans and Dwarves is passive - he neither likes nor dislikes the their races, but may hold a grudge against one or two individuals for personal reasons.

Skills: Rayold is ambidexterous, allowing him to change weapon hands almost carelessely in most situations. He spends a large portion of his time training, and has developed the ability to fight without using his eyesight - instead relying upon his heritage's superior hearing to map the battlefield in his mind. Though Rayold is perfectly capable of using most bows, he prefers to use his sword for mêlée and will often delve into his magical abilities to launch ranged attacks. Other than training, Rayold spends the majority of his remaining time in his library, giving him a wide knowledge of lands near or far.

Strengths and Weaknesses: Ever since Rayold's father went to war and didn't return, Rayold has been reluctant to enter into combat. He often feels it resolves nothing that talks could not, though does recognize it is sometimes the only choice left. He has felt the pain of loss, and never wishes to experience it again - therefore he does not allow himself to ever get close to anyone else, less he may feel the pain once again. When he does enter into battle, his training has lent him a certain prowess even some of his brethren do not possess - and his natural abilities allow him to perform feats others might find impossible. Other than physical strength he is a quick learner, and very observant - if he makes a mistake, he isn't likely to repeat it. Though, he does seem to always hesitate when it comes to delivering the finishing blow, a weakness he is unable to overcome yet.

Weapons: Rayold carries only one weapon, an emerald hand-and-a-half sword, which he gave the name, Garjzladelois ("Flower of Light"). He is quite adept at handling it, through his inherited traits and strict, rigorous training. It was forged by the Elves, and as such never loses its edge and possess perfect balance. Where non-Elves might find the blade heavy and cumbersome, Rayold wields it as an extension of himself. Along the blade, in inlaid silver, is his name. The hilt is plain, with nothing more than strips of material wrapped around to give him more grip.

[Vrael Edoc'sil]

Thank you. If that's your half-hearted attempt, I can't to see how well you truly write. You did an excellent job with this. Even if you think it was unnecessary, you still did what I asked, and I greatly appreciate that. Your character is accepted. Currently the whole Rider applications thing is being reconstructed, as I don't like the way that we're now accepting them. You'll just need to do a sample roleplay for us the the Rider Application boards. When you think you're ready, I'll send you the link. Thanks again. You're accepted.

[Zahn]

Alright, I don't know how much I'll be on till the holidays are done with - but if you send me the link, I'll get work on it when I get some free time.

[Zahn]

The curse, and the blessing, of insomnia...

---

Startled, he awoke, scrambling from beneath the few layers of the blankets. Men cried out in the distance, the Elves' usual musical voices screaming a shrill warning of death to the city and its inhabitants, and of . . . fire? Smoke filled his lungs, burning with every breath. The peace of sleep quickly turning into the chaos of reality. Gathering his wits, he heard the yelling of orders, "Tell them to gather what they can, round up the calvary!" and "You, put out those fires, and find out who started them!" Stumbling, he threw on his armor as fast as he could.

Bursting into the night, he looked to a hopeful sunrise only to catch a faint splash of violet and purple against the black backdrop of sky and star. Light, in hues of red and yellow, flashed from the south, waves of heat washing over the entire city. "Urgals! They're all over!" He heard the yells in the night, as he began searching out the others. Already the warriors were organizing themselves, they wouldn't fight with their pants down. A faint smile swept through his ragged visage. Pointing, he shouted, "Archers, to the walls! Everyone else to the gates!"

Mounting a horse, he and a group of three rode to the great gates, weaving their way through the tumultuous crowds. A mental picture of the city came to mind, remembering the general battle plan they had layed out not five hours ago. Sat upon the plains, it wasn't the most defensible position - but it was their city to defend. Less than three minutes had passed before the company arrived at the gates. Coming to a halt, he breathed a little easier, seeing the men already reinforcing the finely crafted threshold. Shifting to face the others, he flicked his hand once, "Make haste to the others, and find the King!"

He witnessed the others leave, sighing as he turned about. Then came cries from the parpaet above, "Here they come!", "Archers, aim!" "FIRE!" The twang of bows echoed up and down the tall walls. And suddenly he wasn't there, but he was above the city - looking down, watching. The morning light slowly crept over the land, ever so slowly revealing the dark hordes of Urgal - moving like ants from every direction towards the city. "Ilirea..." He wasn't talking, but he couldn't remove the name from his lips.

A great crash brought him back to the scene below, walls crumbled as great machines of war were brought against them. Fights broke out amongst the streets, as the foul wings of fouler dragons joined the hordes of beasts to bring the cold embrace of death to all. "Father!" He woke up in bed, a cold sweat running from every pore in his body. Quickly jumping up, he nearly doubled over as a pain wrent his gut. "No...." Falling to his knees, he grasped his head and slipped back into the darkness.

---

I don't really like this one, I guess it could be because I see three screens right now... anyway, I probably won't put as much time into my regular posts as I did this one (unless I get into a groove and the plot is really interesting at the time).

[Vrael Edoc'sil]

It's good. Normally you'd have a roleplay that would be themed and you'd have to go along with that theme. But since you've already done this, I'll accept it. If you want to add onto it go ahead. It looks good. Maybe today or tommorow I'll accept you as a Rider.