Post by Laughing Man on Jan 9, 2011 8:24:39 GMT -5
<< A quick note just to point out: This is the original bio for my Mandalorian on a Star Wars site. I took everything and made it into a fantasy setting, or at least tried to. If there is some kind of conflict, or I missed anything anywhere, let me know and I will be quick to make a change. >>
Name: Doran Grildas (Alias and Adopted Name: Vhe’tra Kata)
Race: Human
Age: 24
Height: 5’11”
Weight:195
Birth place: Feraldas, Ulrian Ridge
Appearance: Brown short hair. Muscular lean build. Scar over right eye from brow ridge to middle cheek. hazel/brown mixed eyes.
His armor is patterned in black, Green, and Orange. He chose these colors because to him, black represents the justice. Green represents duty to his family and friends, and Orange Shereshoy, a lust for life.
Personality: Long memory, Short fuse. Extremely loyal to friends and ‘family’. Protective of those he holds dear. He is just as likely to kill you for honor as for the protection of his family. He adheres to strict code of honor and justice. Having been a Gryphon-Rider for a good while now, he adheres to the resol’nare above all else. He’s not afraid to brawl you, stab you, shoot you in the head, or anything in between. Long as you don’t give him reason to, he’ll leave you be. Prideful of what and who he is, he will not let you down talk Mandalorians and forget the repercussions of such an action.
Skills: Armor and Weapon Blacksmith, Skirmish fighter, Gryphon-Mounted Combat.
Attributes: Quick Temper, Prideful, Stubborn, Determined.
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral. (+2)
History:
Doran Grildas grew up in the town of Feraldas, a small farming community at the base of the Ulrian Ridge. Not many people know about the agriculture of the area, or at least nobody speaks of it because the Ulrian Ridge is known for its massive Mountains and inhospitable landscapes. His father was a farmer, and taught him the trade, but was often abusive. Getting drunk in town and staggering home to beat his two children, Gregory Grildas was a man of quick temper, but would always remember a deed someone did for him, or a misdeed. These traits were inherited by his son, Doran.
At 14, Doran’s Father came home one night and was extremely drunk after an un-productive harvest. He beat Doran’s sister, Emily, to death with his bare hands, and almost killed Doran as well. Doran’s mother didn’t even try to stop it. She never did. She just stood and watched, then got manhandled into the bedroom by Gregory. It was then Doran decided things had to change. At the ripe, young, maturing age of fourteen, Doran went into his father’s tool shed. He grabbed the pitchfork used for moving hay around and went into the house. His father was sitting in his chair and demanded to know what he was doing. Doran often practiced playing with the Pitchfork like it was a weapon, being a boy with an over-active mind, and nothing to do with it. When he took the stance in front of his father, who was a veteran of the Crusades, the old belligerent drunk stood and roared at him. He threw his bottle of booze at Doran, smacking him in the eye and breaking into it. This caused him to lose his sight in his right eye, and gave him a huge gouge he would never be rid of. Doran charged, and speared his father, killing him when one of the three prongs entered the old man’s heart.
Doran ran away that night, left and never looked back. He survived a while as a gutter rat before joining the military at 18.
During his military career, which only lasted two years, Doran saw much fighting as the
’s forces, quelled a few remaining Mercenary and Rebel forces, and fought many, many battles against the Dark Wizards of Blaze Mountain.
At 20, Doran’s unit, the Everlasting Righteous was stationed in the Ado Spine for smuggling interdiction. There they were ambushed by a cartel wishing to use the passage that bridged Tamasha and the Desert. The cartel Thugs ambushed their outpost, and a fight raged for hours within the valley of that doomed land. During the fighting, Doran’s commanding officer was killed, and handed Doran, only a Sergeant, his custom Broadsword and told him, “Boy… Lead them well.”
Doran led his small group that was defending a bridge out to the only escape, fighting through swathes of cartel thugs, utilizing their knowledge of the valley, and guerrilla tactics to defeat their foes. Only that small handful survived.
After the incident with the Everlasting Righteous, Doran bummed around the Dermun Desert. Taking on odd jobs as smuggling crew, and pirating every now and then. He landed in Cathika, a small desert village, and made a little home for himself there, etching out a meager existence for years before moving on. He came to know this as his second home.
At 21, Doran left Cathika and landed Ithigan after a smuggling run gone bad. He split from his crew, and joined a Rebellion faction there, who were combating their oppressive cartel owners. They called themselves the Red Warriors. In the Red Warriors, Doran quickly distinguished himself as a member of leadership roles rather than a grunt to be thrown at the enemy. The rebellion faction
A year went by, and at 23, the Red Warriors suffered greatly. Their charismatic leader, Rasho Neox, went on a mission of relief to a nearby town and never returned. He was recorded as MIA, but the one thing that held the Red Warriors together had disappeared, and so the group fell to infighting and lack of cohesion. Doran took what he had and split. He dismissed his charges, and fell back into Ithigan. Falling to heavy drinking, Doran wandered the streets of that town picking random fights, brandishing his old Captain’s custom Broadsword and losing fights, ending up more or less in the gutters on a good day, worse on a bad day. After this carried on, an old friend of his stepped in.
Cayce Urriah of Kata Aliit.
Cayce was a comrade of Doran’s. A Clanswoman who had fought alongside him in his efforts against cartels once before. After finding her once-honorable and well-respected friend drunk and belligerent, she manhandled him and kicked his backside around. Taking his weapons away, and telling another of her members, and a man who would come to be great friends with Doran, William Hemata, to hide them. Doran would get his weapons back when he could prove he was capable of standing upright and returning to his old self. After a week or so, Doran re-assessed himself and made a turn-around in his life.
Informing Cayce of his decisions, she patted him on the back and told Will to retrieve the weapons. Will ran into trouble, and Cayce had to get them herself. Will had taken a few hits from the Kobold den, and they had to carry him out. The wounds weren’t too bad, but Cayce made the trip, with Doran, to the Kata Outpost. Upon arrival, and after a bit of talking and deliberation, Doran was given an opportunity: To join the Mandalorian Clan Kata.
Doran accepted and took the culture fully into himself.
For the next two years, Doran would take on the name, “Vhe’tra Kata” After proving himself a worthy fighter, and a worthy pilot. Having spent time in the outpost learning how to work Armor and Weapons, Vhe’tra forged himself his armor, a custom armor that focused on forward-facing plates of armor with an under-layer that was made of tough leather hide from local animals, as well as a bes’beviin(Iron Lance used for mounted combat) and a bes’kad(Curved, Iron saber).
Doran rose in the ranks of Kata Aliit(Clan), though he didn’t care much for them, the ranks that is. Mandalorians didn’t give too much thought to rank: Honor, respect, and reputation were more effective ways of earning command. Along his years in Kata, Will would become one of his closer comrades along with a lizardman named Zara, and together they’d spend time beating down thugs, and taking mercenary jobs where they wished.
A few years in, one of Doran’s close friends from the Red Warriors was murdered in the Selkia Forest, leaving an orphaned child behind. Doran immediately took her into his care, and under the Mandalorian laws, adopted her as Atin’la Kata.
RP Sample:
The Mandalorian’s helmet was stained with spatters of blood that trickled down it slowly. He released his fist from around the thug’s neck, watching the lifeless body fall away. His other hand was holding the bes’kad that was in the thug’s stomach, and let it slide out of his gut, spraying blood onto his leg and waist. The rest of the miscreants were stunned for a moment, giving the Mandalorian all the time he needed to whip out his Crossbow and end another man’s life. That spurred action from the remaining two, who drew their blades and charged him as one. Vhe’tra took a step back to avoid a downward stroke, and then brought his bes’kad up to block the second attack. His fist flashed out across the chin of the second attacker, rocking him back. Before he could finish the kill, the first criminal made a lunge at his gut.
The blade connected, but the veteran Mandalorian twisted his body to turn what would have been a plunged stab into a grazing blow that slid off of his beskar’gam(Custom Armor) neatly. Grabbing the blade of the attacker’s sword with his gauntlet, he turned the finely-crafted blade into a piece of scrap metal with the aid of a bit of magic before twisting his lower body further, and slashed across the man’s throat. Crimson arterial spray spattered the two remaining warriors as the thug’s body fell to the ground, hands clutching at a wound that was already his doom.
Vhe’tra faced the last man who stood adamant with his sword. At this point a massive, black shadow enveloped the pair. Vhe’tra Kata never took his eyes off the man, but the miscreant looked up in time to see Ani’ray – Vhe’tra’s massive, black winged Gryphon descend upon him and tear him in half with razor claws. The blood stained the black Gryphon’s feather and it chirped delightfully,
“Ori’jate ner vod!” Vhe’tra called out ‘Great job, my brother!’ in Mando’a, the language of the Mandalorians, “How goes the skies?”
Ani’ray chirped delightfully back before Vhe’tra hopped on her back and sheathed his saber. Around them, the ambush was going well. The ground had a trench dug around the Cartel fortress-castle in the center, where the Mandalorian lines were launching artillery to break down their defenses. In the air, Vhe’tra drew his bes’beviin – an iron spear – and the duo roared into the sky,
“Oya Manda, ori’vod! Let’s show these aruetiise how to play!” responded Vhe’tra, quickly barking out orders,
“Squad Ehn, form on me! Gryphon cavalry! Charge! Kote darasuum!” he shouted as the cavalry from Squad Ehn fell into formation and they roared toward the Cartel Castle…
Name: Doran Grildas (Alias and Adopted Name: Vhe’tra Kata)
Race: Human
Age: 24
Height: 5’11”
Weight:195
Birth place: Feraldas, Ulrian Ridge
Appearance: Brown short hair. Muscular lean build. Scar over right eye from brow ridge to middle cheek. hazel/brown mixed eyes.
His armor is patterned in black, Green, and Orange. He chose these colors because to him, black represents the justice. Green represents duty to his family and friends, and Orange Shereshoy, a lust for life.
Personality: Long memory, Short fuse. Extremely loyal to friends and ‘family’. Protective of those he holds dear. He is just as likely to kill you for honor as for the protection of his family. He adheres to strict code of honor and justice. Having been a Gryphon-Rider for a good while now, he adheres to the resol’nare above all else. He’s not afraid to brawl you, stab you, shoot you in the head, or anything in between. Long as you don’t give him reason to, he’ll leave you be. Prideful of what and who he is, he will not let you down talk Mandalorians and forget the repercussions of such an action.
Skills: Armor and Weapon Blacksmith, Skirmish fighter, Gryphon-Mounted Combat.
Attributes: Quick Temper, Prideful, Stubborn, Determined.
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral. (+2)
History:
Doran Grildas grew up in the town of Feraldas, a small farming community at the base of the Ulrian Ridge. Not many people know about the agriculture of the area, or at least nobody speaks of it because the Ulrian Ridge is known for its massive Mountains and inhospitable landscapes. His father was a farmer, and taught him the trade, but was often abusive. Getting drunk in town and staggering home to beat his two children, Gregory Grildas was a man of quick temper, but would always remember a deed someone did for him, or a misdeed. These traits were inherited by his son, Doran.
At 14, Doran’s Father came home one night and was extremely drunk after an un-productive harvest. He beat Doran’s sister, Emily, to death with his bare hands, and almost killed Doran as well. Doran’s mother didn’t even try to stop it. She never did. She just stood and watched, then got manhandled into the bedroom by Gregory. It was then Doran decided things had to change. At the ripe, young, maturing age of fourteen, Doran went into his father’s tool shed. He grabbed the pitchfork used for moving hay around and went into the house. His father was sitting in his chair and demanded to know what he was doing. Doran often practiced playing with the Pitchfork like it was a weapon, being a boy with an over-active mind, and nothing to do with it. When he took the stance in front of his father, who was a veteran of the Crusades, the old belligerent drunk stood and roared at him. He threw his bottle of booze at Doran, smacking him in the eye and breaking into it. This caused him to lose his sight in his right eye, and gave him a huge gouge he would never be rid of. Doran charged, and speared his father, killing him when one of the three prongs entered the old man’s heart.
Doran ran away that night, left and never looked back. He survived a while as a gutter rat before joining the military at 18.
During his military career, which only lasted two years, Doran saw much fighting as the
’s forces, quelled a few remaining Mercenary and Rebel forces, and fought many, many battles against the Dark Wizards of Blaze Mountain. At 20, Doran’s unit, the Everlasting Righteous was stationed in the Ado Spine for smuggling interdiction. There they were ambushed by a cartel wishing to use the passage that bridged Tamasha and the Desert. The cartel Thugs ambushed their outpost, and a fight raged for hours within the valley of that doomed land. During the fighting, Doran’s commanding officer was killed, and handed Doran, only a Sergeant, his custom Broadsword and told him, “Boy… Lead them well.”
Doran led his small group that was defending a bridge out to the only escape, fighting through swathes of cartel thugs, utilizing their knowledge of the valley, and guerrilla tactics to defeat their foes. Only that small handful survived.
After the incident with the Everlasting Righteous, Doran bummed around the Dermun Desert. Taking on odd jobs as smuggling crew, and pirating every now and then. He landed in Cathika, a small desert village, and made a little home for himself there, etching out a meager existence for years before moving on. He came to know this as his second home.
At 21, Doran left Cathika and landed Ithigan after a smuggling run gone bad. He split from his crew, and joined a Rebellion faction there, who were combating their oppressive cartel owners. They called themselves the Red Warriors. In the Red Warriors, Doran quickly distinguished himself as a member of leadership roles rather than a grunt to be thrown at the enemy. The rebellion faction
A year went by, and at 23, the Red Warriors suffered greatly. Their charismatic leader, Rasho Neox, went on a mission of relief to a nearby town and never returned. He was recorded as MIA, but the one thing that held the Red Warriors together had disappeared, and so the group fell to infighting and lack of cohesion. Doran took what he had and split. He dismissed his charges, and fell back into Ithigan. Falling to heavy drinking, Doran wandered the streets of that town picking random fights, brandishing his old Captain’s custom Broadsword and losing fights, ending up more or less in the gutters on a good day, worse on a bad day. After this carried on, an old friend of his stepped in.
Cayce Urriah of Kata Aliit.
Cayce was a comrade of Doran’s. A Clanswoman who had fought alongside him in his efforts against cartels once before. After finding her once-honorable and well-respected friend drunk and belligerent, she manhandled him and kicked his backside around. Taking his weapons away, and telling another of her members, and a man who would come to be great friends with Doran, William Hemata, to hide them. Doran would get his weapons back when he could prove he was capable of standing upright and returning to his old self. After a week or so, Doran re-assessed himself and made a turn-around in his life.
Informing Cayce of his decisions, she patted him on the back and told Will to retrieve the weapons. Will ran into trouble, and Cayce had to get them herself. Will had taken a few hits from the Kobold den, and they had to carry him out. The wounds weren’t too bad, but Cayce made the trip, with Doran, to the Kata Outpost. Upon arrival, and after a bit of talking and deliberation, Doran was given an opportunity: To join the Mandalorian Clan Kata.
Doran accepted and took the culture fully into himself.
For the next two years, Doran would take on the name, “Vhe’tra Kata” After proving himself a worthy fighter, and a worthy pilot. Having spent time in the outpost learning how to work Armor and Weapons, Vhe’tra forged himself his armor, a custom armor that focused on forward-facing plates of armor with an under-layer that was made of tough leather hide from local animals, as well as a bes’beviin(Iron Lance used for mounted combat) and a bes’kad(Curved, Iron saber).
Doran rose in the ranks of Kata Aliit(Clan), though he didn’t care much for them, the ranks that is. Mandalorians didn’t give too much thought to rank: Honor, respect, and reputation were more effective ways of earning command. Along his years in Kata, Will would become one of his closer comrades along with a lizardman named Zara, and together they’d spend time beating down thugs, and taking mercenary jobs where they wished.
A few years in, one of Doran’s close friends from the Red Warriors was murdered in the Selkia Forest, leaving an orphaned child behind. Doran immediately took her into his care, and under the Mandalorian laws, adopted her as Atin’la Kata.
RP Sample:
The Mandalorian’s helmet was stained with spatters of blood that trickled down it slowly. He released his fist from around the thug’s neck, watching the lifeless body fall away. His other hand was holding the bes’kad that was in the thug’s stomach, and let it slide out of his gut, spraying blood onto his leg and waist. The rest of the miscreants were stunned for a moment, giving the Mandalorian all the time he needed to whip out his Crossbow and end another man’s life. That spurred action from the remaining two, who drew their blades and charged him as one. Vhe’tra took a step back to avoid a downward stroke, and then brought his bes’kad up to block the second attack. His fist flashed out across the chin of the second attacker, rocking him back. Before he could finish the kill, the first criminal made a lunge at his gut.
The blade connected, but the veteran Mandalorian twisted his body to turn what would have been a plunged stab into a grazing blow that slid off of his beskar’gam(Custom Armor) neatly. Grabbing the blade of the attacker’s sword with his gauntlet, he turned the finely-crafted blade into a piece of scrap metal with the aid of a bit of magic before twisting his lower body further, and slashed across the man’s throat. Crimson arterial spray spattered the two remaining warriors as the thug’s body fell to the ground, hands clutching at a wound that was already his doom.
Vhe’tra faced the last man who stood adamant with his sword. At this point a massive, black shadow enveloped the pair. Vhe’tra Kata never took his eyes off the man, but the miscreant looked up in time to see Ani’ray – Vhe’tra’s massive, black winged Gryphon descend upon him and tear him in half with razor claws. The blood stained the black Gryphon’s feather and it chirped delightfully,
“Ori’jate ner vod!” Vhe’tra called out ‘Great job, my brother!’ in Mando’a, the language of the Mandalorians, “How goes the skies?”
Ani’ray chirped delightfully back before Vhe’tra hopped on her back and sheathed his saber. Around them, the ambush was going well. The ground had a trench dug around the Cartel fortress-castle in the center, where the Mandalorian lines were launching artillery to break down their defenses. In the air, Vhe’tra drew his bes’beviin – an iron spear – and the duo roared into the sky,
“Oya Manda, ori’vod! Let’s show these aruetiise how to play!” responded Vhe’tra, quickly barking out orders,
“Squad Ehn, form on me! Gryphon cavalry! Charge! Kote darasuum!” he shouted as the cavalry from Squad Ehn fell into formation and they roared toward the Cartel Castle…
' Bloody heck, two jobs and a BUNCH of kerfuffle later, and I'm back AGAIN.