Post by //Ah-Dol on Nov 21, 2007 19:16:41 GMT -5
Name:
Ah-Dol
(pronounced: Ahh-Doll)
Gender:
Male
Age:
Twenty-three
Species:
Weasel
Occupation:
Healer
Physical Appearance:
Click for Picture
At first glance, this weasel has normal features overall. He is slender, body flexible and has a smooth pelt like all his species. Yet one thing makes him stand out; his striking white fur.
Weasels only have this pelt color if they live in winter climates all year long. Ah-Dol, though a traveler, only encounters snow in the season winter. His white fur baffles all, even him, but he seems to stop caring about it, only going so far to make a joke regarding the winter pelt.
Alas, he is not entirely white. A dusky brown crown pearches on his head. Though this brown does not reach his round ears, which remain their dominate color, it circles 'round his eyes on both sides, stopping above his muzzle. Streaks of this same brown run down his back a fair distance, but the weasel is spared forever having be marked entirely down his back.
A dark pink nose, large black eyes, dull claws (rumored to have been dulled by Ah-Dol himself), and a tail of medium length, with the tip being dusky brown, complete his overall features.
Now for the clothing. He is a simple creature, traveling extremely light and holds no value over many objects. Ah-Dol only wears a brown vest, open at the front.
Possessions
Ah-Dol carries nothing on him that could cause harm to another being. He holds his vow of peace in high value. No weapons; not a sword, dagger, rapier or bow. It could be dangerous...but he is obviously a Healer. To harm one would be a terrible crime.
But what he does carry on him are large qualities of herbs that he crushes into healing poultices and wrappings for wounds. A large bag on his back and pockets hanging from a belt 'round his waist are where he stores everything.
Personality:
Woe the day to any beast that he do harm to another. Ah-Dol is sincerely gentle to all beings, wiether good or bad. The weasel takes the position of Healer seriously, offering aid to any that need him. Kindness, compassion and sympathy. Common traits in a healer. But the poor weasel can sink into deep episodes of depression. His job isn't quite as good as it gets. Perhaps it could be good to say he's rather bipolar. Up in down in moodswings, but they are triggered by events in his life rather than random outbursts.
Death is a key factor in these triggers. If he fails to save a life, he takes on a mood that can last for quite a few weeks. And it varies. For instance; if the dead creature is very young, his sympathy for the untimely death, anger at himself, and rage for the hand of the reaper combine all in one. It doesn't matter too much for an older being. He takes it soothingly that he can help pass them over without more pain aiding them further. ...But he still feels that he could have done more to help, and that he somewhat lacks in ability. Yes, he also suffers from low self-esteem.
Another thing. He can and cannot tolerate racism toward species. If it be toward him; it would be nothing. He has nothing to prove to any beast, nothing to stand up for if it be himself. But if it be toward another being; Ah-Dol, though he looses in the 'heated arguement' part (alas, poor beast doesn't like to raise his voice), he puts up fair points quietly to his opponent. Oh yes. A healer has to have an intelligent mind.
Strengths:
...A Crisp Breeze In the Meadow
Well, being a Healer, Ah-Dol is blessed with knowing various herbs and healing properties. It is his greatest aid in most situations.
Also, being a weasel has it's merits. Because his body is of greater length than most, he is able to run swifter. But that a blessing for all his species. Nothing special there.
Weaknesses:
Where the Wind Blows...
Lacking in self-confidence, being prone to 'depressed episodes', and since he does not carry any weapons...it could be hard going for the weasel. He is one that has to rely on other creatures, as Healers and travelers usually do for protection, but he also lacks social requirements.
History:
"What makes a good beast turn bad?"
What should have been said for Ah-Dol's case is "What makes a bad beast turn good?"
Later a Healer, Before an Outlaw. The weasel was raised in a group of bandits, nomads that wandered 'round Mossflower for no select reason. They captured and sold slaves, stole valuables for profit, etc. Ah-Dol, having no known family, grew up in the company of the bandits. The weasel, having grown in such an environment, was one of those dimwitted, violent vermin. And so it was for fifteen long years.
T'was then that the bandits moved deeper into Mossflower wood, robbing every traveler of their goods. However, one day brought an elderly mouse to the group. The mouse had been wandering on a path when the vermin surrounded him.
"Gim us yar loot and begone with ye!" shouted a rat, poking the elder with a dagger. The mouse blinked calmly down at the weapon, then spread his paws wide from under his long robe. Boldly, he faced the robbers. Ah-Dol came out of the bushes were another wave of vermin hid, incase things ever got ugly at one point or another. The weasel watched curiously; no beast ever did something like this before.
"I have no belongings, nothing of value on me, friends" the mouse explained slowly, turning in a semi-circle. "I am going to Redwall Abbey empty-handed, going to preform a small healing for a sick beast. Would you grant me access?"
"Yarr! Stand still, ye old bat!" a fellow weasel snarled, smacking the mouse. He doubled over, coughing. Ah-Dol hissed to the weasel, cuffing him over the head.
"Not how we handle beasts, mate! Especially not ones that gots no loot on 'em. Let the worthless scum go, I say." he snapped, white fur bristling as he rounded to the rat. It was true. If the goodbeasts had nothing on them, they let them go. But the rat had no intention of letting the elderly mouse go. It was like he had a vendetta against him...or wanted to play around, trying murder for a change.
"Nah. Let's have a bit o fun. Scum like this deserve treatment. Imagine, mates! We poor beasts gotta starve tonight 'cause this mouse got no loot on 'im!"
"I am truly sorry I couldn't be of help to you and your friends" the mouse muttered, bowing. "I would give you what I have, if I had it. Perhaps when I leave Redwall, I could bring you food from the Abbey. They give travelers foo--Urrk!" again, he was struck, this time falling to the ground. Various plants fled from a small pocket in his robe. The bandits drew back at the foul stench.
"Urgh! What be that awful smell?!"
"Dunno, but stinks like no tomorrow!"
Ah-Dol hurried to the mouse's side, bending down as he covered his own nose with a piece of cloth. Healing...going to Redwall. This beast was a Healer! An old, deceased friend in the gang told him that Healers were to be treated with much respect. They were kind to all beasts. This was not kindness repaid.
"'Orry 'bout me mates, Healer. Let's get ya outta 'ere!" the weasel exclaimed, dragging the mouse up tenderly. The others were so concerned about the smell of the plants, some had run off and others were not paying attention to the Healer anymore. Which was good.
"W-wait! My herbs! I need them!" the mouse cried, gazing at the precious stinking plants. Ah-Dol sighed, tugging the robe harder.
"No time for that! We'll get more...err...later! 'Scape or be killed!" he hissed impatiently, litterly dragging the mouse off into the woods. He couldn't understand the importance of a few bloody plants.
---
"Fhew! Thank you, friend" the mouse sighed, leaning against a tree. Ah-Dol had learned in the swift run the elder's name was Weldon the Kind. Every healer liked to put a 'the...' at the end. It made them feel important.
But Ah-Dol was feeling fear. He had betrayed his friends, who took him in and raised him...he wouldn't get away with his life. That was for sure. He'd be gutted upon returning. No chose but to go with this Weldon.
"Where you headin', mate? Redwall Rock or somethin'?"
The healer laughed softly. "No, friend. Redwall Abbey. It isn't far from here...but I do not think I'm up for the journey. The wacks your friends gave me hurt my old joints...and the run didn't do good either."
"They ain't me friends no more, Weldon, don't worry 'bout that" Ah-Dol muttered, gazing at the ground.
The mouse looked closely at his companion, then nodded briefly. "All right. I can't go, but you can. You be a strong, young beast, Ah-Dol. All you need are instructions. Here's what you need to do..."
---
"Can't 'lieve he suckered me inta goin'..." the weasel muttered, gazing up at the huge doors of the Abbey. Grasping a few basic herbs in one hand, and a note clarifying him as 'Weldon the Kind's apprentice', he was soon let into the place.
Immediately he was rushed in by the old beast running the place. The Abo or somethin'. It was urgent. One of the Dibbuns or Abbeybabes had contracted a sickness. Something to do with eating something...or something.
Not at all feeling as confident as he looked, Ah-Dol looked down at the sickly vole babe. They had a fever and had been sleeping for a very long time. Oye. The weasel almost cursed the old Healer for this.
Right then. Err...what did the old bat tell me? What do I know first of all? Ahh...I never had a ma of me own. I wouldn't know! he thought in agony, ignoring the Redwallers crowded around. He closed his eyes, focusing. err...fever! Gotta get that down, right? Cold water, the beasts collected that for the babe. ...I got a plant for it, don't I?
Ah-Dol summoned a mousemaid to help him pry open the jaws of the mole babe. Stuffing a few grinded herbs into the mouth, he rubbed the short neck of the mole so the babe would swallow. Another set of herbs; to soothe his stomach. Then all they could do was wait, add water to the young one's brow, and wait...
Such tiring work. The fake apprentice had to send out some shrews to collect more herbs. But it was rewarding, he had to admit, to see the babe's eyes open weakly on the second day, and grasp a tiny paw to the weasel's own. Ah-Dol broke out in a smile, not a smirk or sneer, for the first time in years.
---
"Oye! Weldon the whatever! I did it! Did yar job, you lazy--"
He broke off as he returned to the site where he left the mouse to rest two days ago. Ah-Dol hadn't really...expected him to hang around for that long, but it was shocking to see the empty spot. He wanted to say goodbye at least. And the poor weasel even searched the area a couple of times before admitting defeat.
With a frown, he wandered off.
---
Tis been awhile since those days. Ah-Dol has grown into a fine healer, not posing as a fake apprentice for an elderly mouse. He had traveled to a lone island far from Mossflower to learn his skills, returning five years later, at the age of twenty. That left three years of wandering through Mossflower, hoping for a glimse of the mouse that got him started into his new skill. Or perhaps a purpose.
Relationships:
Having been abandoned at birth, a member of his previous bandit group finding him and raising him in their camp, he does not know his family. No knowledge of wiether they live to this day is known to him. Ah-Dol doesn't seem to care too much of it, or perhaps he is suppressing his desire to find his family. What ever the case is, the fact is his family is unknown.
The weasel also has no mate or offspring. Having travel alot, skipping to Healing job to Healing job, he cannot stablize alot of friendships.
Other
This be Rush's Goodbeast account. -nods-
Ah-Dol
(pronounced: Ahh-Doll)
Gender:
Male
Age:
Twenty-three
Species:
Weasel
Occupation:
Healer
Physical Appearance:
Click for Picture
At first glance, this weasel has normal features overall. He is slender, body flexible and has a smooth pelt like all his species. Yet one thing makes him stand out; his striking white fur.
Weasels only have this pelt color if they live in winter climates all year long. Ah-Dol, though a traveler, only encounters snow in the season winter. His white fur baffles all, even him, but he seems to stop caring about it, only going so far to make a joke regarding the winter pelt.
Alas, he is not entirely white. A dusky brown crown pearches on his head. Though this brown does not reach his round ears, which remain their dominate color, it circles 'round his eyes on both sides, stopping above his muzzle. Streaks of this same brown run down his back a fair distance, but the weasel is spared forever having be marked entirely down his back.
A dark pink nose, large black eyes, dull claws (rumored to have been dulled by Ah-Dol himself), and a tail of medium length, with the tip being dusky brown, complete his overall features.
Now for the clothing. He is a simple creature, traveling extremely light and holds no value over many objects. Ah-Dol only wears a brown vest, open at the front.
Possessions
Ah-Dol carries nothing on him that could cause harm to another being. He holds his vow of peace in high value. No weapons; not a sword, dagger, rapier or bow. It could be dangerous...but he is obviously a Healer. To harm one would be a terrible crime.
But what he does carry on him are large qualities of herbs that he crushes into healing poultices and wrappings for wounds. A large bag on his back and pockets hanging from a belt 'round his waist are where he stores everything.
Personality:
Woe the day to any beast that he do harm to another. Ah-Dol is sincerely gentle to all beings, wiether good or bad. The weasel takes the position of Healer seriously, offering aid to any that need him. Kindness, compassion and sympathy. Common traits in a healer. But the poor weasel can sink into deep episodes of depression. His job isn't quite as good as it gets. Perhaps it could be good to say he's rather bipolar. Up in down in moodswings, but they are triggered by events in his life rather than random outbursts.
Death is a key factor in these triggers. If he fails to save a life, he takes on a mood that can last for quite a few weeks. And it varies. For instance; if the dead creature is very young, his sympathy for the untimely death, anger at himself, and rage for the hand of the reaper combine all in one. It doesn't matter too much for an older being. He takes it soothingly that he can help pass them over without more pain aiding them further. ...But he still feels that he could have done more to help, and that he somewhat lacks in ability. Yes, he also suffers from low self-esteem.
Another thing. He can and cannot tolerate racism toward species. If it be toward him; it would be nothing. He has nothing to prove to any beast, nothing to stand up for if it be himself. But if it be toward another being; Ah-Dol, though he looses in the 'heated arguement' part (alas, poor beast doesn't like to raise his voice), he puts up fair points quietly to his opponent. Oh yes. A healer has to have an intelligent mind.
Strengths:
...A Crisp Breeze In the Meadow
Well, being a Healer, Ah-Dol is blessed with knowing various herbs and healing properties. It is his greatest aid in most situations.
Also, being a weasel has it's merits. Because his body is of greater length than most, he is able to run swifter. But that a blessing for all his species. Nothing special there.
Weaknesses:
Where the Wind Blows...
Lacking in self-confidence, being prone to 'depressed episodes', and since he does not carry any weapons...it could be hard going for the weasel. He is one that has to rely on other creatures, as Healers and travelers usually do for protection, but he also lacks social requirements.
History:
"What makes a good beast turn bad?"
What should have been said for Ah-Dol's case is "What makes a bad beast turn good?"
Later a Healer, Before an Outlaw. The weasel was raised in a group of bandits, nomads that wandered 'round Mossflower for no select reason. They captured and sold slaves, stole valuables for profit, etc. Ah-Dol, having no known family, grew up in the company of the bandits. The weasel, having grown in such an environment, was one of those dimwitted, violent vermin. And so it was for fifteen long years.
T'was then that the bandits moved deeper into Mossflower wood, robbing every traveler of their goods. However, one day brought an elderly mouse to the group. The mouse had been wandering on a path when the vermin surrounded him.
"Gim us yar loot and begone with ye!" shouted a rat, poking the elder with a dagger. The mouse blinked calmly down at the weapon, then spread his paws wide from under his long robe. Boldly, he faced the robbers. Ah-Dol came out of the bushes were another wave of vermin hid, incase things ever got ugly at one point or another. The weasel watched curiously; no beast ever did something like this before.
"I have no belongings, nothing of value on me, friends" the mouse explained slowly, turning in a semi-circle. "I am going to Redwall Abbey empty-handed, going to preform a small healing for a sick beast. Would you grant me access?"
"Yarr! Stand still, ye old bat!" a fellow weasel snarled, smacking the mouse. He doubled over, coughing. Ah-Dol hissed to the weasel, cuffing him over the head.
"Not how we handle beasts, mate! Especially not ones that gots no loot on 'em. Let the worthless scum go, I say." he snapped, white fur bristling as he rounded to the rat. It was true. If the goodbeasts had nothing on them, they let them go. But the rat had no intention of letting the elderly mouse go. It was like he had a vendetta against him...or wanted to play around, trying murder for a change.
"Nah. Let's have a bit o fun. Scum like this deserve treatment. Imagine, mates! We poor beasts gotta starve tonight 'cause this mouse got no loot on 'im!"
"I am truly sorry I couldn't be of help to you and your friends" the mouse muttered, bowing. "I would give you what I have, if I had it. Perhaps when I leave Redwall, I could bring you food from the Abbey. They give travelers foo--Urrk!" again, he was struck, this time falling to the ground. Various plants fled from a small pocket in his robe. The bandits drew back at the foul stench.
"Urgh! What be that awful smell?!"
"Dunno, but stinks like no tomorrow!"
Ah-Dol hurried to the mouse's side, bending down as he covered his own nose with a piece of cloth. Healing...going to Redwall. This beast was a Healer! An old, deceased friend in the gang told him that Healers were to be treated with much respect. They were kind to all beasts. This was not kindness repaid.
"'Orry 'bout me mates, Healer. Let's get ya outta 'ere!" the weasel exclaimed, dragging the mouse up tenderly. The others were so concerned about the smell of the plants, some had run off and others were not paying attention to the Healer anymore. Which was good.
"W-wait! My herbs! I need them!" the mouse cried, gazing at the precious stinking plants. Ah-Dol sighed, tugging the robe harder.
"No time for that! We'll get more...err...later! 'Scape or be killed!" he hissed impatiently, litterly dragging the mouse off into the woods. He couldn't understand the importance of a few bloody plants.
---
"Fhew! Thank you, friend" the mouse sighed, leaning against a tree. Ah-Dol had learned in the swift run the elder's name was Weldon the Kind. Every healer liked to put a 'the...' at the end. It made them feel important.
But Ah-Dol was feeling fear. He had betrayed his friends, who took him in and raised him...he wouldn't get away with his life. That was for sure. He'd be gutted upon returning. No chose but to go with this Weldon.
"Where you headin', mate? Redwall Rock or somethin'?"
The healer laughed softly. "No, friend. Redwall Abbey. It isn't far from here...but I do not think I'm up for the journey. The wacks your friends gave me hurt my old joints...and the run didn't do good either."
"They ain't me friends no more, Weldon, don't worry 'bout that" Ah-Dol muttered, gazing at the ground.
The mouse looked closely at his companion, then nodded briefly. "All right. I can't go, but you can. You be a strong, young beast, Ah-Dol. All you need are instructions. Here's what you need to do..."
---
"Can't 'lieve he suckered me inta goin'..." the weasel muttered, gazing up at the huge doors of the Abbey. Grasping a few basic herbs in one hand, and a note clarifying him as 'Weldon the Kind's apprentice', he was soon let into the place.
Immediately he was rushed in by the old beast running the place. The Abo or somethin'. It was urgent. One of the Dibbuns or Abbeybabes had contracted a sickness. Something to do with eating something...or something.
Not at all feeling as confident as he looked, Ah-Dol looked down at the sickly vole babe. They had a fever and had been sleeping for a very long time. Oye. The weasel almost cursed the old Healer for this.
Right then. Err...what did the old bat tell me? What do I know first of all? Ahh...I never had a ma of me own. I wouldn't know! he thought in agony, ignoring the Redwallers crowded around. He closed his eyes, focusing. err...fever! Gotta get that down, right? Cold water, the beasts collected that for the babe. ...I got a plant for it, don't I?
Ah-Dol summoned a mousemaid to help him pry open the jaws of the mole babe. Stuffing a few grinded herbs into the mouth, he rubbed the short neck of the mole so the babe would swallow. Another set of herbs; to soothe his stomach. Then all they could do was wait, add water to the young one's brow, and wait...
Such tiring work. The fake apprentice had to send out some shrews to collect more herbs. But it was rewarding, he had to admit, to see the babe's eyes open weakly on the second day, and grasp a tiny paw to the weasel's own. Ah-Dol broke out in a smile, not a smirk or sneer, for the first time in years.
---
"Oye! Weldon the whatever! I did it! Did yar job, you lazy--"
He broke off as he returned to the site where he left the mouse to rest two days ago. Ah-Dol hadn't really...expected him to hang around for that long, but it was shocking to see the empty spot. He wanted to say goodbye at least. And the poor weasel even searched the area a couple of times before admitting defeat.
With a frown, he wandered off.
---
Tis been awhile since those days. Ah-Dol has grown into a fine healer, not posing as a fake apprentice for an elderly mouse. He had traveled to a lone island far from Mossflower to learn his skills, returning five years later, at the age of twenty. That left three years of wandering through Mossflower, hoping for a glimse of the mouse that got him started into his new skill. Or perhaps a purpose.
Relationships:
Having been abandoned at birth, a member of his previous bandit group finding him and raising him in their camp, he does not know his family. No knowledge of wiether they live to this day is known to him. Ah-Dol doesn't seem to care too much of it, or perhaps he is suppressing his desire to find his family. What ever the case is, the fact is his family is unknown.
The weasel also has no mate or offspring. Having travel alot, skipping to Healing job to Healing job, he cannot stablize alot of friendships.
Other
This be Rush's Goodbeast account. -nods-
