The Unofficial Cavalry recruiting thread

[Guest Estel]

sounds good to me

 

I'll drop in Carnhain at some point once you two have a chance to RP together on your own for a bit

[The Don]

and Jaem is just getting to the Citadel himself. So Estel... what are my doodies anyways? I could figure out my own, but coming back to a system thats totally changed, I don't really want to step on anyones lil toesies. As some of the older folks and new staffers know, I can be a tad overbearing at times. But this time I'll just try to do as I'm told and not make trouble :P

[Guest Estel]

OOC duties, not much except helping me welcome the new cav people

 

ic basically training the new cavies

 

... that's about it I believe

[The Don]

sounds good... easy enough :D

[Jocelyn]

I'll jump into your thread sometime this week! :)

[Lih-Lyh]

Oh hahah. :lol: I was loosely affiliated w/ the band as I wrote a bio for it that Silhouette cc-ed on the dmspw board so here it is for convenience sake. If there's a new thread Faron might pop in.

 

Name: Faron Valeron

Email: Freemantle04@gmail.com

Division: Archer

Rank: - No Preference

Physical Description:

Full pouting lips, intense grey eyes, brown cap of curls, bells in

hair always tinkling, chin smooth

and shaven, high cutting cheekbones, broad shoulders, at a height of

barely five feet, slender quick fingers, sharp nose, light-footed,

excellent with horses, impatient, narrow-minded, unmerciful to

disrespect or dishonesty to the law, knows nothing about women and is

uninterested in anything other than fighting for the people.

Land/Birth: Arafel, common

Age: 18

Preferred Talent: -

Weapon: Bow and Arrows

Secondary Weapon: Sword

Character background:

Faron Valeron had been a rather skilled apprentice of the head

Blacksmith, whose fame presided in the surrounding villages as much as

Valeron's village. Throughout the earlier years, he learned to fan the

flames, to bask in the heat, the sounds of pounding the anvil, the

shaping of the malleable, glowing with pleasure at the horses, and

other beasts for which he attached the sturdy iron to their worn

hoofs. When his dear Da could no longer afford the price of Valeron's

apprenticeship, for the Valeron family had fallen on hard times, his

Master was sorry to hear and in his sympathy raised the boy to

Journeyman and refused to relinquish the lad, nor demanding any else

fees for upkeep, besides that the boy's time remained his. At

sixteen, Valeron was allowed to create a project and had forged a

sword. He dipped it in salt and water, to make the metal's hardness

strong and instead of brittle, and was proud of his craftsmanship,

though his Master did not say outright, he saw the happiness, a sense

of possession, and could it have been… tears? All those lit the old

man's dark usually unfathomable eyes, such a short taste of the Light

before the brigands made off with the Master's belongings and his

life. The bandits judged by Valeron's short stature for him not to be

to be a threat, so they left the beaten, mocked and insignificant boy

to curl up and perhaps die.

That boy passed away and it was then, not at the making of the sword

they had stolen but at the brutal death of his dear Master at the cost

of a sack of gold, that Valeron truly became a man. The man was filled

with rage. Shaking like a leaf in blustery winds, the bruised Valeron

planned as he picked up the bow and arrows he whittled as a boy for

snaring and shooting rabbits, slung the heavy-headed hammer over his

belt and took Brenda, Master's filly now that Master would not mind if

he could receive the proper retribution, he followed the trail,

tracking with his considerable knowledge of woodcraft though the

thieves were clearly in a hurry to get away, ignoring his wounds and

pausing only for the Goodwife to bandage the worse of gashes before

moving on, fleeting from remote paths to obsolete trails. They

ambushed him and flayed him to the inch of death, jeering at the

weakened man, who swayed with blood loss and the bleeding wounds

before crashing onto the floor of the forest. The two leaders, masked

but spoke nasally, "thanks young popinjay" when they grabbed Brenda's

reins and pulled him down with hooked staffs, then pronouncing in a

thick foreign accent, "prepare to meet your maker!" Valeron realised

that he awaited the last blow, the strike of mercy some would call it

and was resigned and shamed to that he failed.

It was at the very moment, like a tale out of the gleeman's Legends at

the common rooms, men donning a scarlet blur of insignia in shape of a

hand on their jackets burst out and collided. Both parties looked

suitably shocked but soon the band of brigands were dispatched of and

distributed justice by the newcomers, who told Valeron a few

interesting truths that swayed him even as he patched their torn

leathers and links of chain-mail. Valeron had planned to return to the

Forge when the vengeance is fulfilled, yet as he stared at the loathed

villains, his sworn enemies a hour ago, hanging from the tops of the

trees he knew he would never assimilate the vulnerable life of the

villagers again. Slowly, a grim smile crept onto his face. Adjusting

the straps of the spirited mare, Valeron saw that he and Brenda had a

great deal of riding to do in the near future. Foran Valeron knew

exactly what Band he wanted to be a part of, to join, so that no

villagers will

ever confront the fists and knives of evil again.

[Guest Estel]

GRANDE SOEUR!!!!

 

[tackles]

 

YAY!!!

[Liitha]

if you come by the stables give me a poke over PM (best way to get my attention), as i work in the stables *s*

[Jocelyn]

Oooh come and play! :D

[Lih-Lyh]

If anybody wants to RP with Faron. Or Mentor/meet him or whatnot, I'd be happy to kick off the character. :D

[Guest Estel]

I'll let others take first crack, but you know I'm always up for an RP with ya :D

[Moseley]

YAY! Liliy's joined the Band! I get another opportunity to RP with her!