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A WHEEL OF TIME COMMUNITY
Quibby

Approved Band Bio- Hagnar Agitellus: CCed by the Zealots

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Handle: Arez Al’Loke

 

Character Name: Hagnar Agitellus

 

Age: 20

 

Division of Choice: Infantry

 

Primary Weapon: A swordcatcher and a Falcata sword

 

Secondary Weapon: Quick reflexes and fast feet to easier disengage from battles.

 

Description: He is 1, 85 long, weighing 80 kg. Light brown hair currently short/medium

 

length, roughly shaved beard and Gray eyes with central heterochromia. He is not so bulky;

 

instead he has strongly defined muscles. The color of his skin is originally “Beigh Dark” http:/

 

/www.mineral-makeup-reviews.com/GloMinerals-Pressed-Mineral-Foundation.html , but after

 

travelling he’s gotten quite a bit of tan. The clothes he wear are often ragged and torn. The

 

only notable possession he owns is his silver necklace.

 

Personality: He does not get stressed, and he very seldom worries for anything, often

 

joking about serious matters.

 

He has a calm mind and can analyze his situation no matter how dire.

 

He is very loyal, but can’t follow orders if he’s morally conflicted, which results in being a

 

bad team player. He also doesn’t like change; A different commander, a different scout, a

 

different merchant, a stranger walking past, it puts him on edge.

 

He has a healthy paranoia, never fully trusting anyone within 10 feet of him. Although when

 

he eventually lets someone close, he will protect and care for his friend, not hesitating a

 

second to lay his life on the line.

 

He also harbors a strong dislike for the rich.

 

 

History: Hagnar is the second and youngest son to Decimus and Lydia Agitellus.

 

Living in a house deep in the Braem Wood, life wasn’t always simple for Hagnar. His father

 

often left home for long periods of time to sell wares he had bought cheap somewhere else

 

and his mother always had strange, wealthy “friends” visiting.

 

When Hagnar was young, he used to play with his older brother, Eltar.

 

Hagnar admired his brother, how could one be so kind, caring and dashingly handsome as

 

he was? They would always play together, even though Eltar was two years older than him.

 

Eltar always stood up for him, protecting him from the strange visitors mocking grins and

 

stares.

 

His mother never interfered when the mean people poked him, kicked him in the back,

 

slapped him on the head or shouted mean things to him.

 

Hagnar once asked his brother why people were so mean to him, the answer was:

 

“Rich people get rich by bullying people around them. Without any competition, becoming

 

rich is a lot easier. You are such a charming little troll and that is probably why they pick on

 

you, but don’t worry, you know I am always here to protect you”.

 

On Hagnar’s sixteenth birthday, a night he will never forget, his father returned home with

 

three strangers. They sat in the living room, talking about where merchandise could be

 

bought cheap or sold expensive. Eltar finally interrupted them, reminding them that it was

 

Hagnar’s birthday, urging them to give the gifts they brought. Hagnar watched as his brother

 

approached, taking of a necklace he was wearing.

 

“Here you go brother, my most valued possession, a silver necklace”

 

Hagnar ogled the plain necklace as if it had been a king’s crown. This was by far the most

 

emotionally important thing he had ever owned. Before he had a chance to thank his brother

 

for the gift, one of the strangers grabbed a winecup and threw it at Hagnar whilst shouting:

 

“There is you’re mighty gift!”

 

Decimus did not take lightly to such an act, as opposed to his wife, and punched the man

 

responsible. In a flash, the other two strangers were holding his father whilst the third one

 

was dealing out a flurry of punches at his face. Eltar quickly rushed up to the man, ramming

 

his heel in the strangers back. Hagnar hurried to help as the strangers were unsheathing

 

knives, but before he could do anything, his mother grabbed him and threw him out of the

 

house and yelled:

 

“Take one of the horses and ride away from here!”

 

Before Hagnar could respond she closed the door and locked it. He tried to find another

 

way in that wasn’t locked, he was not going to abandon his family. When he finally arrived at

 

another unlocked door, he could hear his mother screaming, it sounded as if it was a ghost

 

trying to escape the dark one.

 

He heard Eltar yelling shortly after

 

“RUN LYDIA!! MAKE SU--“and then his mother screamed again.

 

Being the coward that he was, he quickly ran back to the little stable and mounted a brown,

 

sick looking horse. As he galloped away, he took one last, terrified glimpse back towards the

 

house and saw his mother come bursting out of the previously locked door. The night flared

 

up with light from the house and his mother soon fell to the ground with two of the strangers

 

lying on her back.

 

Not wanting to see what was about to happen, he turned his head away, tears soaking his

 

face. He rode the horse as hard as possible, afraid the men would come for him, but they

 

never did.

 

Now he travels from camp to camp, working for food. Chopping wood, mining ores or

 

anything else he can find. The world may at times appear dark and terrible. The only way to

 

deal with it is to combat dark with light, rage with joy, sadness with happiness. And killing the

 

three strangers was surely a thought that made him happy.

Edited by Quibby

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A few questions:  who were the "rich" friends of his mom and why were they so mean for seemingly no reason? If they were darkfriends, (as seems likely by them killing a family over one of them being punched), that needs to be CCed by Liitha, I'd think.

 

I'm concerned about the molotov cocktail thing, as I find it really unlikely. There were no petroleum products in WoT, so the only flammable liquids I can think of would be lamp oil and hard liquor, which are both expensive and rather dear. To waste either one by lighting it on fire and throwing it at someone seems a stretch.

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Yes.. I hate my mouse. Now I need to rewrite everything again.......................

 

Question 1: They're coldbolded robbers disguised as merchants, I was planing on explaining abit more about them in a solo RP.

 

Question 2: My original intent for the character was to be really bad at everything he did, really really bad. He would not have any weapons at the start, but to help him escape "sticky" situations I needed him to have some kind of defence that didn't require any skill. Hence my uncreative solution, although after some discussion I decided that not having weapons was a bad idea if I wanted to join the band xP
SOOO, I guess that maybe I could trade this mythical "flame bomb" for some kind of "natural trait" that would help me escape, perhaps Quick reflexes?

Edited by Arez Al'Loke

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