Post by Swing on Apr 1, 2009 16:25:39 GMT -5
Name: Swingshard Keinny McVoolren
Nicknames/Aliases: He prefers to go by Swing, but some of the jokers who know him occasionally call him Cheesewheel, due to his fondness for a good wheel of yellow cheese (yes, an entire wheel. Can you guess his spiecies yet?)
Gender: Male--or, as he'd put it, "A braw fightin' boy beastie."
Age: About 18.
Species: Hare (mountain, of course, but his speech is a mix of Slamandasron hare dialect and Mountain hare dialect.)
Occupation: Salamandastron-fighting-hare-to-be; 'to-be' because for the moment he is on probabtion and will have to start his training over again when he finally returns to the mountain. Basically, he's a wanderingtwit warrior-for-hire-to-good-minded-beasties, and he's more then happy to be paid in food.
Physical Appearance:
-A old blue beret with parsely sprig and old hawk feather.
-Shoulder pads with family crests.
-Belt with the offical crest of his family on the buckle.
-Three sheaths for three different swords.
-An epee, a rapier, and a saber.
-A small blue traveling sack.
-A small cape of a deep, happy red color that was made for winter traveling but that he enjoys to wear as much as he can.
-Standard traveling materials in the sack (flint, small lantern, a good book that has been well-read, a rapidly dwindling amount of traveling food ["I say, wot, this tuck is pretty flippin' sparse for a braw ol' warrior, eh? Ow! Watch it with that ladle, ye'll bruise me blinking skull!"], a skin of water, and a somewhat illegible map).
A decent boxer, he prefers matches where kicking is allowed, as he excels in kick-boxing more so then plain old fist-fights.
Skilled in the art of fencing, his favored weapon of choice, the epee, is like a piece of lightning in his hands. A rapier works, as does a saber, although neither can skills can be deemed "excellent". The epee is and will always be his favorite weapon. In battle, a miraculous thing happens--Swing actually starts to look like he knows what he's doing.
Nicknames/Aliases: He prefers to go by Swing, but some of the jokers who know him occasionally call him Cheesewheel, due to his fondness for a good wheel of yellow cheese (yes, an entire wheel. Can you guess his spiecies yet?)
Gender: Male--or, as he'd put it, "A braw fightin' boy beastie."
Age: About 18.
Species: Hare (mountain, of course, but his speech is a mix of Slamandasron hare dialect and Mountain hare dialect.)
Occupation: Salamandastron-fighting-hare-to-be; 'to-be' because for the moment he is on probabtion and will have to start his training over again when he finally returns to the mountain. Basically, he's a wandering
Physical Appearance:
General--His eyes, a strange amber-gold mix (looking like very thinly spread caramel held up to sunlight [wow, I'm getting poetic -.-"])with a splotch of moutain-hare blue in the very bottom of his right iris. His fur is light, creamy pale color, a kind of soft white that might remind one of fluffy clouds, or perhaps a cotton blanket. Although the fur does wonders in making Swing look [slightly] dignified, it also lends him the somewhat unwanted air of being softhearted (which he kind of is, but a "braw fightin' boy beastie" shouldn't look like a "melty minded medical chap, eh, wot?"). His nose, once pink, is a sunburnt brown, as are his paw pads. It is highly possible he spent excessive time in the sun on purpose, just to make sure that his nose did not make him look any kinder then a warrior absolutely has to look.Possessions: -Very light highland style armor of the type archers prefer (he wears it because it doesn't limit his speed, not because he uses bows or arrows).
Following the generic hare standard, Swing has powerful legs, although most of the muscle is higher up on his thighs, and his calves are thin and wiry-looking. As can be imagined, this irritates him greatly when it comes to appearing tough. His entire frame is, in general, thin and wiry, with the exception being that his shoulder, back, and thigh muscles make up for his somewhat unimpressive biceps.
One ear is constantly either pointing to the side or flopped over, making his somewhat eccentric and already un-warrior-like appearance even more accentuated.
Attire: Fond of highland wear and Salamandastron-style wear in equality, he wears a floppy blue beret with a sprig of dark green parsely and a frayed red hawk feather tucked into it. Along with this hat comes a form fitting grey-blue tunic and billowy brown trousers. Two leather bound shoulder pads are always present, each printed with a family crest--the left printed with his mother's family crest, the right his father's family crest. On the buckle of the belt carrying the sheath of his epee, rapier, and saber (epee and rapier on the left side, saber on the right) is the depiction of a wheel of cheese that has been carved into with a rapier sticking out of it and the words "A Warrior Earns his Living" in ambigrammatic lettering. This is the official crest of the marriage of his parents. Perhaps growing up with that over his head was what started his cheese addiction in the first place...
-A old blue beret with parsely sprig and old hawk feather.
-Shoulder pads with family crests.
-Belt with the offical crest of his family on the buckle.
-Three sheaths for three different swords.
-An epee, a rapier, and a saber.
-A small blue traveling sack.
-A small cape of a deep, happy red color that was made for winter traveling but that he enjoys to wear as much as he can.
-Standard traveling materials in the sack (flint, small lantern, a good book that has been well-read, a rapidly dwindling amount of traveling food ["I say, wot, this tuck is pretty flippin' sparse for a braw ol' warrior, eh? Ow! Watch it with that ladle, ye'll bruise me blinking skull!"], a skin of water, and a somewhat illegible map).
Personality:
Always ready to laugh, Swing is always degrading himself, as doing so is an effiecent tactic for him to improve. He has a fierce dislike of bullies and a rather naive sense of justice. He enjoys good food and loves good cheese. When fighting, his go-lucky exterior melts and gives way to a hard-faced, sardonic attitude that gives people a reason to respect his skills. He has a secret of sorts, being that aside from anger and happiness, he doesn't exactly feel emotions the way other people do--rather, he feels a brief stab of what he knows should be his reaction to something and he implements it. If he ever thought of it, he ould be a very good actor. When he cares for something, though, he cares for it obsessively and takes offense at anyone who insults it. His dream is to be recognized as the strongest fighting hare and die a warrior. He likes life and is firm in his belief that humor is a nessecary trait to have. He loves to smile.Strengths: His speed and nimbleness is something to be reckoned with.
A decent boxer, he prefers matches where kicking is allowed, as he excels in kick-boxing more so then plain old fist-fights.
Skilled in the art of fencing, his favored weapon of choice, the epee, is like a piece of lightning in his hands. A rapier works, as does a saber, although neither can skills can be deemed "excellent". The epee is and will always be his favorite weapon. In battle, a miraculous thing happens--Swing actually starts to look like he knows what he's doing.
Weaknesses:
Food of any sort--expecially cheese, yellow cheese in particular.History/Background:
Keeping his mouth shut and behaving around officers of any military, be they hares or not.
Keeping an eye on Dibbuns (or focusing on anything aiside from food or a course of action longer then it would take to drain a canteen of cider [and mind, he's a HARE]).
Ect.
Born 'n raised by father and mum on the side of a mountain, he had nothing to complain about in his childhood aside from the fact that his father occasionally left for long periods of time and returned with fresh scars from battle. It bothered him that he wasn't old enough or skilled enough to go with his father, so upon reaching the age of 16, he kissed his mum g'bye and set off to find a teacher. After eating most of his travelling rations the first night and falling into a food-induced sleep, he awoke to find three rats unconscious on the ground around him and an aged hedgehog sparring with and aged hare. The pair introduced themselves as having saved his hide from sneaky rats, and he introduced himself as hungry and wanting to learn how to fence. They tok him up on a whim and, after several months of drilling the basic arts of the saber, epee and rapier into his thick skull, the two told him they would be moving on. As a small way of repaying them for their teachings, he directed them to his village and gave them a ring to take back to his mother. The ring, while proving that the two really had met Swing and that he trusted them with something important, gave Swing a reason to return home someday--the ring belonged to his Grandpa, whom he had always begged to hear more stories of. He promised he would come back for it eventually.Relationships:
Upon making his way to Salamandastron after another half year of bouncing around the country side (and practicing as much as he could on any vermin he ran into), he was proud to learn his uncle had been a well-praised Brigade officer. The army let him join, and after three weeks he was put on probation. Thus, he is now wandering through Mossflower looking for a good fight, a good meal, and a way to kill time.
- A brief encounter with two fierce (and slightly burnt-looking) mice sisters inspired him to make a marching ditty, therefore it counts as a relationship (apparently).
- A handful of highly exasperated Slamandastron hares, including his uncle (deceased, but Unkie Jasker Wisk loved 'im anyway).
- A trio of very sorry theiving rats.
If there was ever such thing as a cheese addict, you have now met him.
