Camper

Desh Arrowstorm's page

6 posts. Alias of Rolukk Earbiter.


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Submitted your for approval, Desh Arrowstorm lvl 9 Human Fighter.
No background done yet, and I know the formatting is terrible. I'll fix it when I have a little more time!


Stavros looks up from the parchment he's been scribbling on.
"All this talk of stealing, redemption, and lost families. Makes me feel right at home..."
His eyes are unfocused as he stares into the fire.
With that statement, he rolls up the parchment and puts stows his quill in his belt pouch.
Removing a small knife from the pouch, he sets to work on whittling the end of a thin shaft of wood, similar to the arrows currently in his quiver.
An observant watcher will note each arrow has one red fletching, and two black.
Though the road for the past few days has been rough, his clothes and gear are immaculately clean. His hands are smooth and free of calluses beyond two on the ends of his forefinger and middle finger of his right hand, presumably from archery practice.
He wears a fine sword at his side, but thus far only removed it from its sheath to oil it, then replace it in the sheath. However, this act is done with care bordering on reverence.
He pays much more attention to the unstrung shortbow he uses as a walking staff, and his ever-growing quiver of handmade arrows.
If left to his own devices he works on his arrows, humming softly as he carves.


Its not an official in-character thread...
I think just just how some us write and think things out I guess. :)


Stavros will happily make conversation with just about anyone, but is not likely to divulge his "exiled" status...just that he's recently arrived from Silverhall and would eventually like to make the acquaintance of the local Lord.

However, he does need to make a few coins to purchase decent clothing first. His stint with the caravan made him enough for basic provisions, but his clothes are in rough shape at the moment.

As for what type of performance you'll see, Stavros specializes in singing and storytelling. He is handy enough with most instruments (on good days), but those are his specialties. If asked to play something, he reaches behind his back and pulls forth the requested instrument seemingly from nowhere.

Switching out a 0-level spell for Summon Instrument for flavor.


Arrival in Restov:

Stavros walked through the gates of Restov beside the dusty caravan, taking in the sights of civilization.
The distance he'd traveled was really not THAT far, but to him it seemed like an eternity. He was used to sleeping in feather beds and having servants prepare his meals.
This whole idea of sleeping in the dirt and eating whatever the caravan "cook" called "food" was entirely foreign to him, and not something he wanted to get used to anytime soon.
But thank Desna the caravan had come along when it had, or he may still be eating nuts and berries and trudging down that dusty road.
And wonder of wonders, the caravan driver had taken him on as an extra guard. Out of pity or an actual need, it mattered not to Stavros.
At least hiring on with the caravan had paid, enough for him to pick up a few essentials along the road.
His father's sword hanging in its scabbard at his hip, Stavros leaned heavily on the unstrung shortbow he'd finished working on the night before, using it as a walking staff.
He collected his things from the back of the wagon and looked about, wondering what his next move would be.
For propriety's sake, he should announce himself to the Lord of the city. But there was no way he could even think about such a thing when he looked like a dirty vagabond.
He'd need to find an inn or tavern and ply his trade a bit. Perhaps there was an establishment in need of an entertainer for a few days until he could afford decent attire.
Stavros set out down the main road through the city, looking for just such a spot...


Reporting for duty sir! Just minor changes needed yet to background.