MiaoMing wrote:
I think he means that the planet's axis isn't tilted at all; it's perpendicular to the planet's orbit. So there isn't any change in seasons or anything. I guess.
Ahh, that makes sense. Thanks for translating, MiaoMing, especially since Sorgoth seems to have pulled the same disappearing act as that n00b who started the Road Trip. (But then again, it's early yet, he may return.)
BTW, I had a quick question about Cassryn: how old is she, exactly? (Or at least, how old does she look?) From your earlier posts I got the feeling that she was fairly young, mid-teens or so, but when darksetyuna referred to her as a lady in her last post I went back to check if I'd misinterpreted anything and realized you never really defined her age. Just wondering so as to be able to have Yevaud react accordingly. (E.g., his whole "smiling reassuringly" bit was aimed at a fairly young individual who might need the reassurance. If she's actually in her 20s or older, it might have seemed belittling or patronizing, which was not the intent.)
On, and Kit, for some reason your character description made me think of
Vaz's ES fanart. Looking at it now there's not all that much similarity, but for some reason while reading your description of Sinistra I had myself convinced that there were precious stones on the backs of Sarine's gauntlets too. I suppose the left- and right-hand stuff must have made me think of
Sarine's two swords, and how they're each designed differently (one pokey, one slashy, as far as I can tell). I guess the real resemblance is that both characters are cool, and I can't wait to see what they both do in the future. :D
Anyway, here at last is that character description I've been holding back and mulling over for so long. It feels somehow appropriate that it be my 301st post, since it's the first post detailing my first roleplaying character and the 300 previous posts feel like a nice level of experience to have going into this. Enjoy! 8)
EDIT: Get comfy, ladies and gents, because this turned into something of a long ride. I had fun writing it, though, and hopefully you’ll have almost as much fun reading it.
Appearance:
The wanderer who refers to himself as Yevaud looks like a middle-aged human with a pale but weathered complexion. His frame is sturdy but obviously touched by age. His straight brown hair is shot through with strands of grey, and he wears it a little long and ruffled but above neck- level. His eyes are a bluish slate-grey, the color of the sea under a stormy sky.
If someone had been following him and watching him progress through the countryside, they would have noticed that his clothing has been gradually shifting to match the styles and trends worn in these parts. The changes have been so gradual and piecemeal - a print or pattern changed here, a stylish fold or flourish added there - that no one in any of the towns he's stopped at has noticed anything amiss. The stranger simply arrives, takes a room at an inn, and leaves the next day wearing a different pair of pants or missing a strange bit of foreign jewelry he had been wearing when he arrived. But by now his clothing bears very little resemblance to what he was seen in during his first days in the land. This somewhat reduces the sense of foreignness which hangs about him, but it cannot be entirely banished because his speech is inflected with a unique accent the like of which no one in these parts has ever heard before.
The only possession of his which has not changed in some form or fashion is the yew staff he carries. It never leaves his hand, though he has been seen without it when carrying such an implement would be improper.
History (in his own words):
"I am not truly human, though that is the form which I most often find convenient to wear. What I truly am has no common name, but my creators referred to me as a 'Complete Elemental.' I prefer the term 'True Elemental,' but then I have been told that pride is one of my shortcomings."
"The first of my kind was crafted during an age already considered legendary when my creators' civilization was young some twelve hundred years ago. I myself am between two and three hundred years old. (I lost count somewhere around one hundred, and having traveled through worlds where the length of days and years varies has not made it any easier to keep track.) My creators gave me life because they believed that I might be a force for good, and were sorely disappointed when I proved to have no love or patience for them or their fellow mortals. I was an Elemental, and I could only see them as insects crawling upon the face of the world, toying with my kin for their own benefit. After dealing with my belligerence for many years and trying to reform me, they at last came to believe that I was a hopeless cause, and with sorrow they cast me out into the void of the multiverse."
"I spun through chaos, tossed and pulled between one reality and another for an eon that was timeless. Eventually I found myself caught by a particularly strong force, and I spiraled down through darkness until at last I found myself adrift in a great sea. It was as good a place as any to me, and I drifted silently for many days, happy to be back in a world but free of the plague of humanity. An island soon came into view, however, and from that island there rose little columns of smoke which could mean only one thing. Angry, I rose from the sea and winged toward the isle."
"At last I had my chance! Here were people, mortal, disgusting, taking from their world as they wished without so much as a by-your-leave. And this time, my creators were not here to stay my hand, or claws, or teeth."
"Great was the destruction I wreaked that day, I fear, and it would have been greater still had I not been stopped by a man I consider to be at least as much my creator as any of those who actually gave me life. In the midst of my rampage he appeared, staff in hand, and spoke words which bound me to stillness and sleep. When I awoke it was in his home, and it was there that my life as I know it now truly began."
"He was a wizard, but of a kind quite different from those I had known. He spent many seasons learning of my past and my ways of thinking, discerning what manner of being I was. And then he spent many more seasons teaching me of humans' past and their ways of thinking, showing me what manner of being I could be. But where my old masters had tried to teach me using words and logic, vile implements of the humanity I so reviled, this man used patience and experience as gradual as the turning of the world to show me that humans were not the demons I believed them to be."
"In time I came to accept the people of his island, and they somehow found it in their hearts to forgive me for the pain which I had caused them. I spent many, many years there, and watched children being born, growing to maturity, and bearing their own children. I worked alongside men who herded sheep and women who wove blankets, and learned that the interplay between human and human could be just as beautiful as the autumn dance of fiery leaves through the air. It was during this time that I began to wear the face and form which I do now, and gave new meaning to the old saying that imitation is the highest form of flattery. The wizard who had saved me was amused, and in time the people of the island realized they could tell us apart by the staff my master carried, since out of respect for him and his powers I never duplicated it while he was alive."
"But he was a mortal being, and as time passed he too grew older, until the villagers no longer confused us, staff or no. I learned one last lesson from him the day he died, as I tasted firsthand the sorrow which lingers when a dearly held human life is lost. Before that day came, though, he gave me the most precious gift he could: he told me my True Name, that name which gives mastery over a being."
"With this gift I found my control over my abilities grew even greater, but it could not make up for that which I had lost. Though I stayed on the island for another season, it was not the same without the old man, and in time I bid my friends - my first human friends - farewell, and set out across the ocean once again. But when crossing the seas and islands from Spevy to Narveduen did not take me far enough from my grief, I decided that I would try to leave the world of Ea entirely. It took another dozen years of searching and bargaining with everything from wizards to Dragons, but in the end I succeeded."
"I began to drift across the new plane I found myself in, now bereft of any real cause or goal. During my aimless wanderings I began to think back upon my life, and in a decidedly human fashion I began to search for some meaning for myself. I found myself thinking back upon the legends which humans have of their creation in the image of perfection, and of falling from grace only to realize their folly and begin to strive to recapture the glory and love of their creator. Something in these stories spoke to me, and I realized how fortunate I was to have actually known and walked in the presence of those who gave me life. Just as in the stories, they had created me to do good, and I had spurned them and their values. In sorrow they then cast me out from their presence, and I fell only to learn too late the lessons they had tried to teach me. So now I was doomed to wander forever, bereft of grace and beyond their gaze."
"Or was I?"
"The 'moral' of the humans' stories often consisted of the idea that salvation could be found, that despite what had come in the past one could change and repent, and recapture the purpose originally intended by one's creators. This is all terribly tenuous for those religions based on a distant god in a heaven unreachable until death, but how much more it applied to me in my situation! If I were to do good with the powers my creators had given me, and live in the way they had originally intended, then perhaps I could restore myself in their eyes. For I could now see the merit of the road they had laid out for me, which at first seemed full of folly. So I decided to wander the planes and search out those that made me, and along the way to seek those in need and do all I could in their service. And if I was ever fortunate enough to find myself in the hallowed halls of my creators again, perhaps I would be able to stand tall in their presence and show them that their creation had grown into all they had hoped it would be."
Abilities:
Yevaud is a shapeshifter. As a Complete Elemental, he consists of equal parts of the six basic elements of existence: Earth, Air, Water, Fire, Plane, and Soul. The four commonly known elements are those which make up the material objects of the physical world as we know it. The element of Plane is the substrate or canvas within which those four elements can exist; without it, they would be unable to take root in the formless void of the multiverse. And the element of Soul is that which when present in any living thing differentiates it from a similar arrangement of matter which is dead. In higher animals such as humans and other sentient beings, there is sufficient Soul-stuff for it to become organized into patterns and forms which can give rise to consciousness.
His natural form, which he must return to for about 8 hours a day in order to keep functioning coherently (much as humans require sleep), looks like an amalgamation of the four physical elements. Usually this means he looks like a chunk or pile of burning stones and dirt sitting in a puddle of water stirred by its own wind. Needless to say, this form is seldom reassuring to others, so he tries to retire to some private place before relaxing into it. He is also only dimly aware of his surroundings while in his natural form; most stimuli do not register unless they would awaken a sleeping human. He is somewhat more sensitive to vibrations (both airborne sounds and vibrations carried through the ground) but less sensitive to light, and while he has no sense of taste or smell his sense of touch is undulled. His consciousness is not suppressed during his periods of rest, and he often ponders problems throughout the night.
If sufficiently rested, Yevaud is capable of manipulating the pattern and orientation of his elements, which allows him to assume any physical form, animate or inanimate. His innate mass is anywhere between 120 and 180 pounds, made up of equal parts of each element. He was designed this way to allow him to easily mimic a grown human, since most animals are composed of roughly equal parts of each element. Any form which involves an imbalance of the distribution of elements (for instance, pure water or solid rock) is more taxing and harder to maintain. (It’s easier for him to become smoke than air, and easier for him to become a torch than a disembodied flame.) This includes any form which requires much manipulation of the Plane part of him (for instance, by changing volume or mass or shunting other elements out of his current plane if they are not part of a desired shape). He is most convincing when assuming a form which he has practiced, but can improvise completely novel shapes when necessary.
Because he is an elemental, he does not need and is not motivated by many human concerns, including money, sex, food, and shelter. He is also perfectly content to be alone, though he has now learned to enjoy the company of others as well. And while he is not foolhardy or suicidal, he often takes risks due to the fact that he is almost indestructible... physically speaking at least. However, as he has been reminded time and time again in his encounters with wizards, those who can control the material elements can also exert some control over his body, and those who can control the soul have been known to influence his mind.
Motives/Role In This Story:
While he was in a neighboring land, Yevaud heard that some infernal thing was terrorizing this countryside. He decided to come and try to help destroy the demon. He is blithely unaware of the existence of the Book, both because he's not human and so hasn't felt its effects and because he didn't grow up on this plane and so missed out on all the legends and stories concerning it.
He is traveling in human form, even though it is slow and inefficient, for two reasons: one, in order to interact with and learn from the people who may have seen the demon, and two, in hopes of attracting its attention to himself, since it only seems to be hunting humans.
Oh, and in case anyone was wondering, Yevaud obviously isn't his True Name, just the one he's used ever since leaving Ea and starting to wander the planes.
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This happens to my real-life friends on a regular basis, actually. ("So, what do you wanna do?" "I dunno. What do you wanna do?" "Uhhh... we could do this. Or this. Or something else." "Yeah, whatever you want." Gah! :P )