Durnan willow
Nov 13, 2015 1:08:35 GMT
Post by Myrdroko on Nov 13, 2015 1:08:35 GMT
Name: Durnan Willow
Race: Human.
Age: Late Fifties.
Height: 5'8"
Weight: Seems to be fit even at his age. (Hard to tell 180)
Physically:
Rusted metal attached quite haphazardly onto his well kept leather encompasses his body. Underneath the hood and armor he wears to block out the is a sorrowful and weary aged man. Scars and creases mark his beaten and weary leathery skin. But there is a shimmer of pride and survival that shines from his eyes. His body won't give up unless it was forced...
Mentally:
Even as a child Durnan was raised and trained in the ways of the smith, forming beautiful armor to even weapons he was taught there was always a way to bend metal to their will no matter the challenge. Word of Durnans abilities spread to a commander of the Sirandan knights and he was enlisted to help arm his knights against that which would attack them.
Biography:
A orphaned child by choice, due to his families money problems and his fathers alcoholism. Durnan roamed the streets of kalaram stealing and sneaking his way through life. He wasn't talented and many things and never attempted to find out, For that time he was happy and content. That was till his luck ran out and the stall he attempted to steal from happened to belong to a mage. He barely survived that day being blasted about by magicks tossed around like a rag doll in the streets.
Years past since that day his will and spirit broken from the beating he took he dared not steal and his body was close to giving in from sheer hunger and the ache from old wounds. It was close to the end for him till he came across a blacksmith, Shouting at one of his apprentices and started to throwing tools at the kid, Before long the kid ran away the man screaming out if he ever came back he'd kill him. Seeing his chance he went up to the man a beaten child and threw himself at the smiths mercy pleading with him to allow him to train under him, the rest was history.
Twenty years forward His name was known in that town as a wonderful person and one of the best blacksmiths around his work garnering him some attention for the local militia to the soldiers of siranda itself. One day after completing a order by one of the many militia men a large man in platemail stepping into his smithy asking for his name and profession, after giving it and putting his fists on his hip the armored knight placed a piece of parchment on the table telling Durnan that he was enlisted and will be brought over to craft armor and weapons for Commander Elijahs knights. Not wanting to say no and not entirely given the ability to Durnan solemnly nodded and shut down that forge for the last time taking his place in the ranks.
Race: Human.
Age: Late Fifties.
Height: 5'8"
Weight: Seems to be fit even at his age. (Hard to tell 180)
Physically:
Rusted metal attached quite haphazardly onto his well kept leather encompasses his body. Underneath the hood and armor he wears to block out the is a sorrowful and weary aged man. Scars and creases mark his beaten and weary leathery skin. But there is a shimmer of pride and survival that shines from his eyes. His body won't give up unless it was forced...
Mentally:
Even as a child Durnan was raised and trained in the ways of the smith, forming beautiful armor to even weapons he was taught there was always a way to bend metal to their will no matter the challenge. Word of Durnans abilities spread to a commander of the Sirandan knights and he was enlisted to help arm his knights against that which would attack them.
Biography:
A orphaned child by choice, due to his families money problems and his fathers alcoholism. Durnan roamed the streets of kalaram stealing and sneaking his way through life. He wasn't talented and many things and never attempted to find out, For that time he was happy and content. That was till his luck ran out and the stall he attempted to steal from happened to belong to a mage. He barely survived that day being blasted about by magicks tossed around like a rag doll in the streets.
Years past since that day his will and spirit broken from the beating he took he dared not steal and his body was close to giving in from sheer hunger and the ache from old wounds. It was close to the end for him till he came across a blacksmith, Shouting at one of his apprentices and started to throwing tools at the kid, Before long the kid ran away the man screaming out if he ever came back he'd kill him. Seeing his chance he went up to the man a beaten child and threw himself at the smiths mercy pleading with him to allow him to train under him, the rest was history.
Twenty years forward His name was known in that town as a wonderful person and one of the best blacksmiths around his work garnering him some attention for the local militia to the soldiers of siranda itself. One day after completing a order by one of the many militia men a large man in platemail stepping into his smithy asking for his name and profession, after giving it and putting his fists on his hip the armored knight placed a piece of parchment on the table telling Durnan that he was enlisted and will be brought over to craft armor and weapons for Commander Elijahs knights. Not wanting to say no and not entirely given the ability to Durnan solemnly nodded and shut down that forge for the last time taking his place in the ranks.
