Cruward Basii
Posted: Sat Oct 16, 2010 5:48 am
Name: Cruward Basii (Bah-See-Eye)
Age: 33
Race: Human
Physical Description: Cruward is a man of remarkable build, a body carved into shape by the vicissitudes of travel, combat, and slaying. He is slightly over six feet and he considers his height to be usual among his human brethren. Cruward has a number of distinctive characteristics, such as his vibrant gray eyes, a few small scars around the left eye and a heavy scar from the lower right jaw line protruding to just under the ear.That heavier scar gives Cruward a distinctive and recognizable profile. His countenance has not received the best treatment over the years. He has facial hair, a closely shaven rough stubble.
Cruward’s body is home to many more scars, some a great deal more pronounced than others but they are not usually seen and would not be considered significant features. His hair is dark brown, very thick, and shoulder-lengthed. His skin is a darker pale, with a slight olive tint.
Possessions: His weapons include a cruciform zweihände, and a dagger he uses as a last means of defense should he become disarmed. The great sword’s length totals at five feet, with the blade comprising the majority of the length while the pommel, hilt, and leather grip constitute a foot in total. The dagger has saved his skin a few times, but is used infrequently. A dagger unique to the early tribes of the Iranic plateau it has sentimental value to Cruward, belonging to his deceased father. His other possessions include hoary horse he names Fha, his clothes and hauberk armor, a dark gray cloak, and a bag that holds what few possessions he has, such as his money, a journal, and whatever objects he claims during his travels.
Strengths:
Trained Combatant and Swordsman: Not only was he trained in the rudimentary means of combat and self-defense by his father, but having travelled extensively through out Eyropa and Tian Xia has conditioned Cruward into a fine warrior, but he is not necessarily unequalled. He has still a lot to learn in the manners of armed combat, and he does take advantage of whatever opening when engaged, even if it is considered “dirty”. It is also worth noting that while this may sometimes place Cruward in a leadership position, he is not a notable tactician or leader. His arrogance may get the best of him.
Fitness: Cruward is healthy, fast of foot, and has an exceptional pain threshold.
Well Spoken and Persuasive: Cruward’s greatest strength is his ability to negotiate, equivocate, and communicate with his allies and sometimes even his enemies in order to get what he wants through deceit, lies, half-truths, and occasionally honesty and perspective. He is generally fine at the art of manipulation. To have become excellent in bartering and persuasion, his father insisted him on being well read and also familiar with the world of Pal Tehrenor. Cruward’s inquisitive personality naturally led to him becoming a cunning negotiator.
Combat Abilities:
Mighty & Vicious: When cornered, Cruward will enter a vicious and rabid state of combat where he swings his great sword furiously, destroying all in his path. In this state he will almost go insane with ferocity, most likely taking tremendous damage while dealing it equally so. He cannot do this in an advantageous fight, and this will usually lead to his near or perhaps ultimate demise.
Throwing: When bored he’ll practice throwing his dagger. Doing this over the many years has made him quite competent at it, and he can disable or rarely kill an opponent. The more heavily armed an opponent is the less effective this skill is.
Pommel Bash: This could be considered a cheap shot. He’ll rush forward and smash the enemy’s face in with a vicious pommel strike, which usually leads them dazed or seriously injured, often with severe nasal fractures.
Anything Goes: Cruward fights dirty, real dirty. Anything goes after all.
Weaknesses and Flaws:
Arrogance: It is worth noting that while Cruward’s fine oratory skills and charisma may occasionally place Cruward in a leadership position, he is not a prominent tactician or leader. His arrogance may get the best of him, and may lead himself or his group into sudden danger.
Fear of dogs: Ever since his childhood, he has feared dogs, and has recurring nightmares being chased by decaying hounds, seeking his blood.
Heavy Drinking: Stress or hopelessness may sometimes yield Cruward to taking up drinking to drown himself. This could be perhaps Cruward’s most notable weakness. When in a situation where he feels the need to drink and there is no alcohol readily available, his demeanor becomes venomous.
Ranged Enemies: Targets that are armed with a bow or ranged sorcery may indeed get the best of Cruward. Surely he is aware of how to take cover and avoid getting hurt, but it may be beyond him to get close enough to inflict damage on a proficient ranged-based combatant.
History:
Cruward had come a long way since he lived in the lands of Persia*, east of the Tian Xia Empire and southeast of the southern trade route. His clan and kin were Eyropans who were considered blasphemers for their dislike of the Changer cult of Teodinus. They had been living on a clandestine self-sufficient commune for generations, until they had been murdered by coldblooded assassins on a sinister and fateful day for reasons that still elude Cruward. He remembers to this day witnessing the killing of his family, and swearing a blood oath to exact revenge on the villain who exacted this crime on the Basii Clan.
He was alone now, far away from his home that is now a ruin, haunted by apparitions who demand blood and vengeance. It was a cold night and Cruward was only a few day away from reaching Thar Shaddin. He looked in his bag and saw his journal, a book he has written in since a young age. He flipped to the first page and began to write:
“I can still smell the smoke and the cooking of flesh, I can hear the roaring of the murderers and the howling of the hounds. When will I not see behind everything the viciousness and cruelty of those murderers, when I will be blind to them? I will press my blade to their throats and watch the blood soak my hands; I will grin evilly when I see the warmth escape their soul as they breathe their last breaths. In my life on this plane, I have envisioned how I will destroy those responsible. I refuse to consider that they have all died deaths that were not of my own design. I see the face of my father as he fought valiantly to defend his home, and I still hear the screams of my mother behind me, as she was being violated before her own death. Hopeless I was then, but no more…”
He with such intensity and anger that he was beginning to puncture the page and almost torn it as he quickly scribbled characters. He looked around him for a moment, escaping for the time being the world he returned to in his youth, and that horrible happening that had guided his actions his young life.
“… no more.
These long years, I have had no home. I have slept with the animals in their domain, and I still feed as if I am subject to their hospitality. It feels as if all of Pal Tehnenor is my home, for my feet has tread upon so much of Her, she rewards me by giving justice to me, presenting it in portions though, as justice likes to hide itself in this world. That is the meaning of my life, and that is the simplicity of my existence: to pursue justice, to exact it on those who have evaded it. I have heard that the justice I seek is in Thar Shaddin, and the assassin’s emblem I have on this ring I took in my escape has been seen in that city. This information did not come cheap, but the Shadows in Keltaris have a reputation for Knowing. I know now as they knew, and I know where it is I must be, where it is I’ll find the question, for which my blade is the answer.
You will die.”
He put his pen down and looked to the stars. Before escaping to the land of dreams he echoed his thoughts to the heavens, “Please, give me my revenge.”
* I am unsure if this is the name you would like, but I am not referring to any people or civilizations in place here, but rather just the land for geographical specification.
Age: 33
Race: Human
Physical Description: Cruward is a man of remarkable build, a body carved into shape by the vicissitudes of travel, combat, and slaying. He is slightly over six feet and he considers his height to be usual among his human brethren. Cruward has a number of distinctive characteristics, such as his vibrant gray eyes, a few small scars around the left eye and a heavy scar from the lower right jaw line protruding to just under the ear.That heavier scar gives Cruward a distinctive and recognizable profile. His countenance has not received the best treatment over the years. He has facial hair, a closely shaven rough stubble.
Cruward’s body is home to many more scars, some a great deal more pronounced than others but they are not usually seen and would not be considered significant features. His hair is dark brown, very thick, and shoulder-lengthed. His skin is a darker pale, with a slight olive tint.
Possessions: His weapons include a cruciform zweihände, and a dagger he uses as a last means of defense should he become disarmed. The great sword’s length totals at five feet, with the blade comprising the majority of the length while the pommel, hilt, and leather grip constitute a foot in total. The dagger has saved his skin a few times, but is used infrequently. A dagger unique to the early tribes of the Iranic plateau it has sentimental value to Cruward, belonging to his deceased father. His other possessions include hoary horse he names Fha, his clothes and hauberk armor, a dark gray cloak, and a bag that holds what few possessions he has, such as his money, a journal, and whatever objects he claims during his travels.
Strengths:
Trained Combatant and Swordsman: Not only was he trained in the rudimentary means of combat and self-defense by his father, but having travelled extensively through out Eyropa and Tian Xia has conditioned Cruward into a fine warrior, but he is not necessarily unequalled. He has still a lot to learn in the manners of armed combat, and he does take advantage of whatever opening when engaged, even if it is considered “dirty”. It is also worth noting that while this may sometimes place Cruward in a leadership position, he is not a notable tactician or leader. His arrogance may get the best of him.
Fitness: Cruward is healthy, fast of foot, and has an exceptional pain threshold.
Well Spoken and Persuasive: Cruward’s greatest strength is his ability to negotiate, equivocate, and communicate with his allies and sometimes even his enemies in order to get what he wants through deceit, lies, half-truths, and occasionally honesty and perspective. He is generally fine at the art of manipulation. To have become excellent in bartering and persuasion, his father insisted him on being well read and also familiar with the world of Pal Tehrenor. Cruward’s inquisitive personality naturally led to him becoming a cunning negotiator.
Combat Abilities:
Mighty & Vicious: When cornered, Cruward will enter a vicious and rabid state of combat where he swings his great sword furiously, destroying all in his path. In this state he will almost go insane with ferocity, most likely taking tremendous damage while dealing it equally so. He cannot do this in an advantageous fight, and this will usually lead to his near or perhaps ultimate demise.
Throwing: When bored he’ll practice throwing his dagger. Doing this over the many years has made him quite competent at it, and he can disable or rarely kill an opponent. The more heavily armed an opponent is the less effective this skill is.
Pommel Bash: This could be considered a cheap shot. He’ll rush forward and smash the enemy’s face in with a vicious pommel strike, which usually leads them dazed or seriously injured, often with severe nasal fractures.
Anything Goes: Cruward fights dirty, real dirty. Anything goes after all.
Weaknesses and Flaws:
Arrogance: It is worth noting that while Cruward’s fine oratory skills and charisma may occasionally place Cruward in a leadership position, he is not a prominent tactician or leader. His arrogance may get the best of him, and may lead himself or his group into sudden danger.
Fear of dogs: Ever since his childhood, he has feared dogs, and has recurring nightmares being chased by decaying hounds, seeking his blood.
Heavy Drinking: Stress or hopelessness may sometimes yield Cruward to taking up drinking to drown himself. This could be perhaps Cruward’s most notable weakness. When in a situation where he feels the need to drink and there is no alcohol readily available, his demeanor becomes venomous.
Ranged Enemies: Targets that are armed with a bow or ranged sorcery may indeed get the best of Cruward. Surely he is aware of how to take cover and avoid getting hurt, but it may be beyond him to get close enough to inflict damage on a proficient ranged-based combatant.
History:
Cruward had come a long way since he lived in the lands of Persia*, east of the Tian Xia Empire and southeast of the southern trade route. His clan and kin were Eyropans who were considered blasphemers for their dislike of the Changer cult of Teodinus. They had been living on a clandestine self-sufficient commune for generations, until they had been murdered by coldblooded assassins on a sinister and fateful day for reasons that still elude Cruward. He remembers to this day witnessing the killing of his family, and swearing a blood oath to exact revenge on the villain who exacted this crime on the Basii Clan.
He was alone now, far away from his home that is now a ruin, haunted by apparitions who demand blood and vengeance. It was a cold night and Cruward was only a few day away from reaching Thar Shaddin. He looked in his bag and saw his journal, a book he has written in since a young age. He flipped to the first page and began to write:
“I can still smell the smoke and the cooking of flesh, I can hear the roaring of the murderers and the howling of the hounds. When will I not see behind everything the viciousness and cruelty of those murderers, when I will be blind to them? I will press my blade to their throats and watch the blood soak my hands; I will grin evilly when I see the warmth escape their soul as they breathe their last breaths. In my life on this plane, I have envisioned how I will destroy those responsible. I refuse to consider that they have all died deaths that were not of my own design. I see the face of my father as he fought valiantly to defend his home, and I still hear the screams of my mother behind me, as she was being violated before her own death. Hopeless I was then, but no more…”
He with such intensity and anger that he was beginning to puncture the page and almost torn it as he quickly scribbled characters. He looked around him for a moment, escaping for the time being the world he returned to in his youth, and that horrible happening that had guided his actions his young life.
“… no more.
These long years, I have had no home. I have slept with the animals in their domain, and I still feed as if I am subject to their hospitality. It feels as if all of Pal Tehnenor is my home, for my feet has tread upon so much of Her, she rewards me by giving justice to me, presenting it in portions though, as justice likes to hide itself in this world. That is the meaning of my life, and that is the simplicity of my existence: to pursue justice, to exact it on those who have evaded it. I have heard that the justice I seek is in Thar Shaddin, and the assassin’s emblem I have on this ring I took in my escape has been seen in that city. This information did not come cheap, but the Shadows in Keltaris have a reputation for Knowing. I know now as they knew, and I know where it is I must be, where it is I’ll find the question, for which my blade is the answer.
You will die.”
He put his pen down and looked to the stars. Before escaping to the land of dreams he echoed his thoughts to the heavens, “Please, give me my revenge.”
* I am unsure if this is the name you would like, but I am not referring to any people or civilizations in place here, but rather just the land for geographical specification.