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Armagan

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Tell us about your character!
« on: April 29, 2005, 10:59:00 AM »
This thread is for you to tell about your character in Mount&Blade. Physical apperance (images welcome), background story, motivation. Let the world learn about your character!
« Last Edit: March 13, 2006, 01:20:54 PM by armagan »

Skree

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« Reply #1 on: April 29, 2005, 11:05:34 AM »
Well... i am happy to be the first posting here.

First off, she is based on one of my characters i've used in P&P roleplay, in a campaign that will always have a special place in my heart, along with some other characters create by the master, then... she is half-drow, though, and since that race has litterally nothing to do with M&B, some changes were in order.

So now she is a human (of course), who has dark skin and white hair. Not for her age, but for a particular form of albinism wich affected only her hair :-P She is also asiatic in looks, but not TOO so. Some kind of cross-breed beetween a european man and an asiatic woman, or vice-versa.

A little premise: this story is on the same level of the ones i sometime use when i am roleplaying. It is gritty, dark, has mature content (no, nothing explicit, of course), and goes against every single conception of "morality" by today's standards. Bigots *WILL* feel offended, and even open-minded folks might find this story hard to accept. But this is the story of my character... giving her motivations, strenght, and a reason to exist. She is not a "good" character, nor is she "bad"... she wanders into the shades of gray wich divide good from evil. So... go on reading only if you think you can bear it.

Sorry for those needless (?) explanations, and now on to the story, imagining her sitted by a campfire during the night, staring at the stars from a hill:

"It has been... what? ten years since that day?" she was taken in her thoughts, remembering how all started "I was working in the tavern of my parents... i can remember the tables, the spoiled men and women who came spending their last money for a drink, only to vanish into nothingness soon after. Oh, they would be back... they were always back after a day or so... but nothingness is all they were about. Wasted lives... clinging on every day of their existence, with no hope for a better future. I hated them. They were weak... miserable... i was certain i could never endure such a life... i would kill myself before letting ME fade to a shade of what i am. Or so i thought. One day... a very unusual guest came into the tavern... he was well-dressed, and evidently very rich. He presented himself as a teacher for a nobles' son in a town in another kingdom... at the time i did not recognize the word "vaegir". We spoke a little... when i was serving at his table... at the time i was an ignorant little brat" she paused for a second, chuckling, but soon a sad look came down to her face "he told my parents i was... intelligent, and that he could give me a better future... in a powerful kingdom, where i could have become a teacher myself... make money... and make the fortune of my parents, too. At the time... we all believed him." she stopped again... as if trying to get a hold of her sensations... then forced herself to continue remembering "My parents letted me go with him... he even gave them some money... in order to hire another person to aid them in the tavern. I was... too excited to cry... my parents, also, were happy... they were sure i'd find a better future. We were all fools." again she paused... gazing at the women with her... the sword sisters... she had a particular skill at making other women follow her lead... and she cared for each of them... thanking god for each one of them she saved from a life of brutality... "...the same brutality i could not escape. As soon as we left the small village my parents were in i was beaten... i did not understand... i felt pain... confusion... but had no idea why they were beating me. It was because i had never before seen the evil a human is capable of. I was fed with the remains of the teacher's escort lunches... i soon started to prefer eating the insects i could find, instead of food they would spit in... or worse. I was... brutalized, they would have punched or kicked me for no reason at all. Something was starting to move inside me... feelings i never felt before... but i was... too innocent, too hopeful... i... i STILL believed that man would have led me to a better future... how... idiotic of me" now she had to stop again... she could not stop the tears from coming... her was a small, silent cry, before she could again put order in her thoughts "The man told the truth about him being a teacher for the son of a lord in the town of Rivacheg... but i was not intended to become a student... i was a little "gift" for the spoiled brat... he was younger than me... sixteen or so, maybe less... and he looked at me as if i were some kind of worm. This didn't stop him to... take me. I didn't even know at the time what sex was... i discovered it in the worst possible way... each night i was to be brought to that... monster... and i was not the first... i saw other women... two... who came before me... they were strange in my eyes... their belly was big... little did i know that sex has also some kind of consequence. The thing that disturbed me most, though, was the look in the face of those women... it was... empty. I tried, once or twice, talking to them... but they spoke only nonsense... they lost their reason... and for once, i could not find the strenght to hate them for their weakness. The thing i was feeling inside me during the voyage kept growing... i still didn't know what it was... but it gave me strenght. Determination. And that was all i needed to survive in that hell. I sold myself to a guard... it would not have added anything to my horrors... in exchange he letted me hear the lessons of that young noble. For three years i learned with him... the politics... how to speak, how to behave when in the presence of nobles. For three years, almost every night, i was used as a toy by him... but it didn't hurt anymore... wonderful thing is the capacity of human mind to shield herself from horrors, after a while. I also discovered that my belly wouldn't grow... that i couldn't have children of my own. I don't know why... but the thought was... sad. I would have been twice a victim if i had been able to bear life... i realized this... but still... it made me feel sad. During those three years i also understood what was the name of the things that gave me the strenght to endure those horrors. I learned their name... and i started to treat them as friends. My only friends. They were called called Rage, and Vengeance. I started to train myself in my cell. I sold again myself to guards and soldiers... in exchange for their teachings about how to fight, how to kill, how to make my body strong. It was... my first and only passion... and when i started to feel my body getting stronger... i felt joy for the first time in four years. Then... i decided to let my friend Vengeance free... and oh... how sweet was the gift of my friend to me. I started speaking with the man who abused of me in all these years... i tried to befriend him... and the fool even showed tenderness. He told me he was sorry, after some months... that he would soon marry a woman he loved, and my horrors would end as he would let me free. He even promised some money... a house... this all i accomplished only by words... but his reaction... his excuses... promises... made only my Rage grow even bigger.  In all those years of excercise i learned much... and i acted soon after the marriage of that bastard. Ten months after his marriage. I invited again a soldier into my room... but this time he would not get what i promised. I killed him with a knife i carved out of a spoon, and got his gear, killing came... naturally, as if my soul craved for it for all my existence. I never wore anything that heavy... but my body made strong by excercise allowed me to wear that armor with almost no problems. I hid his body in my bed... in the darkness no one would notice the difference, or the blood on the ground. The helmet also helped me escape, masking my face, making my voice sound deeper. It was all so easy... i knew what to say, when to say it, and how. But escape was not what i wanted. I even saw a letter on the table of my guard... it was from the noble, i was to be release the day after... given ten thousand gold pieces, a house, and some land to farm. I searched for the money and took them... the house... i would have not had a use for it." she took a moment to smile in the night, there was no more sadness in her look, only grim satisfaction "I drove my way into the house of my former captor... he was outside, hunting deers with small nobility. I found that there was no compassion left in my heart. The woman inhabiting that house never did anything to me... but she was the wife of the one who drove me down to hell. This was enough for me to proceed 'till the end. I found her sitting on the bed... she had her daughter... giving her milk in a way i would have never experienced. My rage did nothing but grow at that thought. I took the crossbow that guard had... and shot a bolt into that woman's chest. I aimed for the lungs... i wanted her to live for at least a bit, but i didn't want her to call for help. The baby fell on the ground... and started crying... there was still no compassion in my heart, but she had another use. She had to live unharmed. For now. I took her and put her in her little bed. The woman was still alive... small bubbles of blood came out of her mouth at each breath... she tried screaming, or talking... but that is difficult when you are drowning in your own blood. I talked to her. I told her all i had to endure during those years. I told her about the monster she married. She... understood. I didn't expect that... but somehow that woman managed to tell me... she was sorry, and to have pity of her daughter. Then she died. It was strange... i felt... guilty. For a second. Then i remembered all that happened to me... and tore her body open, using her entrails as a decoration for the room, abusing of her corpse in such a way even an assassin would feel ashamed. But not me... no... they took me away from my parents, they showed me hell... and for God's sake i would give the favour back. With interests. I took the heart of that woman... and put it against her daughter's body. I did this... with tenderness, to let the soul of its mother be near. In my mind the woman i just killed was the most innocent in that situation, and i hoped she would have found peace in the afterlife. When i heard about the return of the noble, horses and all, i hid myself in the room, taking his daughter with me... pointing a knife at her neck. I felt like... i don't know... a predator. I recall i almost roared in ecstasy, anticipating my revenge. He arrived in his apartment soon enough... i regret not seeing his face when he saw his wife scattered all over the place... if he cried for help at the moment i would have been dead. He rushed, instead, into the room, and found me. I took the helmet away from my head... i wanted him to know why this all happened... and told him not to move or say a word, otherwise i would slit his daughter's throat. The threat made him instantly silent... i saw love for her daughter in his face. If i had seen hatred for me i would have killed him instantly. But i saw... compassion. After all he did to me... he dared to show compassion. I thought with haste about what to do. I threw his daughter toward the wall, with violence. He ran to her... and this gave me the chance to hit him in the back of the head... he fell without a sound. I checked the daughter... she was dead, her neck broken... but to me... it was just a thing... how could a human being be born from a monster such as that noble? How could that noble still be called human? No. They were not human to my eyes... they were... just meat, inferior even to animals, the only real human was the one i killed first. I tied him on a chair... closing his mouth with a bandage. I also tied the corpse of his daughter against him... the scene went as i imagined it... he regained his senses... looked towards her... and then, realizing what happened, produced some muffled sounds that would have been screams, probably. Now i finally saw hate in his eyes... but why? how did he DARE to hate me after all he did to me? I didn't understand at the time... and i still don't understand. At that time... there was only one thing to do... i had to kill him, and get the hell out of there. I did so slowly... carving his eyes out first, and then cutting little pieces of his body, little by little, slowly, trying to keep him alive for the longest time possible. At the end, when i realized he was almost dead... i freed his mouth. He could not have had the strenght to scream anyway. He ranted some incomprensible stuff... then i demanded him to tell me he was sorry for all he did to me. I demanded him to ask for my forgiveness. The idiot had the courage of calling me a monster... of telling me he should have killed me after she had fun with my body the first day. I slit his throat immediately... but not too much as to making him losing instantly consiousness. His death had to be slow and painful. I remained in that house for a while... i went washing myself from all the blood, and took one of the dresses of the woman i killed. They were fine... they made me look like a noble. I liked the thought... Lady ***. It sounded good... i also laughed. I gave a last gaze at the carnage in the other room... then simply left. I took a horse... and fled away... the story of the massacre i made never came out of Rivacheg... perhaps the lord found it too terrible to speak about it. That was fine with me... i didn't want the attention. I also knew that the Vaegir kingdom was at war with another one. Swadia. I didn't care why they fought. I didn't care who was the good guy in that war. I simply knew that the vaegir kingdom had to pay with blood for what happened to me. In these years i found the teacher that took me from my parents... i didn't put much effort into killing him. My company of mercenaries became always more and more famous... and now, after six years since my escape, i became famous. Or i should say ill-famed. They call me the "white-haired witch", the "Scourge of God". But the name i myself letted others know me for was another one. I like it more than anything else... and now most call me simply the White Avenger"

I tried to create a harsh contrast beetween the first half of the story, where she is but a victim, and the second half, where she becomes the "monster". At the end, she just return into a "gray" area... she takes care of the women she encounters... she tries whenever she can to save others from the destiny she had to endure... in the end, she could be seen as a "good" person... who did a monstruosity, yes, but a justified one.

I... like the shades of gray. If someone felt offended by reading this, i am sorry. For those who liked it, instead... i thank you for reading.

About some images... here is a close up(character generation screen, really :P):

[nofollow]

And here, looking from a hill the battle beneath her:

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And finally here, protecting some poor paesants (they were not her army... she just found them being attacked by brigands, and intervened. She *is* good and warm-hearted after all. A part of her is, anyway).

[nofollow]

All screen made in version 0.601
Usstan orn ja'hai naubol jhal ULTRINNAN

dadarkman

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« Reply #2 on: April 29, 2005, 01:12:38 PM »
woow...nc 1 :D

Chalooby

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« Reply #3 on: April 29, 2005, 03:57:46 PM »
Apologies in advance for any typos and the poor quality of my story

My character

He Man.





Background

Despite being the most powerful man in the universe* He Man is a victim of serial muggers the Dark Hunters and Black Khergit Raiders who continually beat him up and steal his Hunter horses that he's trying to deliver.

Incidentally, he looks nothing like He Man really and yes I should have given him a two handed sword.


*may not be true

AnTz0r

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« Reply #4 on: April 29, 2005, 05:13:46 PM »
i got a nicely looking woman. well with all that armor i cant even see shes a woman anymore  :D

i got reinforced black helmet, thick black armor and black boots (are there thick black boots armagan? ive been looking for them for weeks!).

i mainly use a two handed sword in combat. ive found its great swing range better than one handed swords, it's cool to mow down 5 people down in 8 seconds :D i really dont like the pole arms, cant do **** with them. And except for in the arena, the bows are quite useless too.

BetterNights

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« Reply #5 on: April 29, 2005, 05:32:03 PM »
Except that a single horse archer can easily own an army of just about any size...

Mechstra

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« Reply #6 on: April 29, 2005, 06:33:07 PM »
I have two characters that I use.

The first, Andrew Dunn, is a successful cavalryman (skilled with spear and bow) who leads a mixed force of Swadian, Vaegir, and mercenary troops. Unaffiliated to any faction, he goes where there's business to be had, and lays down the righteous law on any bandits he finds. His fortune grows and grows, and he rides a spirited courser to give him the impetus he needs in charges and the speed to escape when using his bow. Casualties in each battle tend to be light to nonexistent, while enemies are entirely wiped out or captured. He has been plying his violent trade in Calradia for 40 days and is doing very well out of it.

The second, Will Hanston, is a far newer arrival in these lands, having been working for a fortnight only. However, Will sees the value of having big friends, and has signed up to work for the Swadians. He uses a crossbow most of the time, with a sword and shield for close-in melees, and leads an elite troop of Swadian ranged forces. Casualties in each battle tend to be higher than for Andrew Dunn, because Will doesn't ride out in front to draw the enemy away - he stands in line with his men and fires his crossbow. The pay-off for this dangerous method is that the enemy can be mown down from a distance and nearly every bolt counts, and Will is making a small fortune harassing the Vaegir-Swadian border.

Orange

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« Reply #7 on: April 29, 2005, 08:22:48 PM »
http://img178.echo.cx/my.php?image=nun16bc.gif [inactive]

http://img178.echo.cx/img178/7042/nun24pd.gif [inactive]


Sister Mary Nichole is a Nun, who enjoys knitting, raising afghan hounds, and smiting those who do not accept the light of god into their hearts.
I live in jello.

DoomedOne

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« Reply #8 on: April 29, 2005, 10:58:00 PM »
Iago grindley is an adapted character, and my basic fantasy persona, though I've been writing comics about him (the real him, not his many adaptions, lived around thr 15th)

this adaption has a slightly grittier, yet much more sociable look.  They share a unique quality: wrath.  That's something that runs deeps with Iago, he has very powerful emotions, and though he attempts to think rationally, it's not a far walk for him to escape sanity for a time.  He joined the Swadians only so he could recruit a force large enough to make a name for himself, he didn't really care which side he was on, and in fact has many vaegirs in his army (rescued).

He tries toa ct distant, and does very well on an outside persona, but inside, he is extremely compassionate and attached to his companions, with a deep hatred for all who oppose him or his sense of justice.  When his hired blades were slaughtered by black knights, he left the battle, went to town, hired about 30 men, marched back to battle, and slaughtered them all.

Background: Iago Grindley was born across the Sea as the son of a couple refugees that escaped via a small boat to a small town across the sea, untouched by war.  He left back for the main-land at seventeen in hopes of becoming a great warrior.  He was rash and stupid, and threw away all he had for a pipe dream.  Life was not easy at the mainland, at the war-torn country.  He dealt with it despite that, having no way to return, and it made him strong.  He worked his way up, got himself a good horse, a scimitar named, "The Shepherd" and some good armor, and started his life envoking justice around his area, slaying river pirates, leaving very few alive.  He was not merciful, and know for bring swift justice, his philosophy was, "You get one chance in this world not to cross me, once you fail at that chance, you fail at life."

His thinking in regards to his soldiers are, "Stay at of my way, and stay alive, and you'll get your pay," of course, he can't help but get a little attached every so often to those that have been with him since the beginning.

Armagan

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« Reply #9 on: April 29, 2005, 11:31:23 PM »
That's very interesting. Is there any chance we can see your comics about Iago grindley? I already liked him.

Orange

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« Reply #10 on: April 30, 2005, 01:56:10 AM »
Let's take a trip into Arm's head...

"Oh crap oh crap oh crap I need original content for the manual and site and wifey is gonna KILL me... Oh, a guy who draws comics. SALVATION!"
I live in jello.

DoomedOne

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« Reply #11 on: April 30, 2005, 03:43:53 AM »
I'm afraid I'd like to publish some-day and I have a family of superstitious artists who refuse to reveal their work before it's been published, or it's bad luck.

Armagan

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« Reply #12 on: April 30, 2005, 08:53:09 AM »
Haha. I know that feeling (sort of) . Best luck with publishing it. Be sure to let us know when you get it out. I am sure a lot of M&B people would kill for a good medieval comic (including myself).

Whitmire

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« Reply #13 on: May 01, 2005, 08:30:27 AM »
Duncan the Bastard was my .600 character. My new character is suffering somewhat from my very busy schedule. :(

http://img79.echo.cx/img79/416/duncancharger7cl.jpg [inactive]

Duncan the Bastard is an unacknowledged bastard son of a powerful knight. Knowing that his father has rejected from him the rights to land and power just to protect his own image, and that with one word his father could lift him from the low ranks of peasanthood, has made Duncan vengeful and power-hungry to the point of megalomania. He wants to claim what he thinks should be his by accident of birth and perhaps destroy his father in the process. Thus, he is constantly striving to establish a position among the nobility by doing great deeds to get his father to acknowledge him, getting a battlefield promotion, or by buying his knighthood by selling his military services to one of the warmongers of Calradia.

Duncan the Bastard is a ruthless sell-sword, who is ready to fight for anybody as long as it helps him in his quest for power. He will let no-one stand in his way, and because of his past, he will never learn to trust another man. This is why he often works alone, even though at times he has hired warriors, other mercenaries like him, to aid in his efforts.

timmo

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« Reply #14 on: May 01, 2005, 06:06:42 PM »
Hey everyone i'm a professional writer, i hope you guys will take the time to read this story, and please, i have little confidence in my work, so if you really like my story, please tell me and i'll post the next chapter as it becomes quite intriguing


My name is Valin, i was born into a poor family so i took one of the only paths available to somebody of my birth, i became apprentice to a travelling monk, he was a wise teacher, and taught me many things about people, healing, and the world.

We were studying at our monastry just north of Zendar when they attacked, they killed everyone, i stood defending my master with my staff, but he threw me into a closet and locked the door, i watched through the crack in the doors as they slaughtered my teacher, the greatest man i had ever known, he died defiant, standing looking the men in the eye, they hesitated, as if scared purely of this old man's will alone, then killed him and moved on.

The men rummaged around the monastry as i hid. One came into the room i was hiding in and began rummaging through my master's clothes. I had to do something, i looked around the closet but saw nothing but robes. I quickly wrapped them around my fist and began to hit at the doors. I bashed once, the wood splintered, the armored man looked up at the closet, put his hand on his sword and rising from my master. I bashed again, the hinges gave way this time, the doors lock snapped off and the doors swung open, just as the man drew his sword and charged directly at me.

I threw the robes at him as my only defense, they tangled over his arms and head, i kicked forward, straight into his chest, knocking him backwards over my master, he fell onto his back with a grunt, the wind knocked out of him. I ran forward crouching, grabbed my staff as the man leaned up. I held the staff close to me like a lance, and continued my charge, it caught him in the chin, his head swung back with a snapping sound, he fell back, his head on an unnatural angle, his neck broken, dead.

I heard more men coming, i looked around and saw nowhere to hide, they were in the hall now, about to come into the room, so i pulled some robes over my head and lay like a corpse against a bench. The men came in, looked once at the old dead monk, and the mangled corpse of one of their men. They stripped his armor, took  his weapons and left. I realised that these were not men of much honor.

I sat and stared at my masters lifeless body for hours, unsure of what my life would become now, i looked at the dead man i had killed, his armor was gone but his clothes underneath bore a crest. I took the crest and my belongings, swung them in a sack over my shoulder and left the house i lived in with my master. I knew what the crest was, i knew it as the mark of the vaegir army, i scrunched it in my hand with a grimace and put it in my pocket. I took the money hidden under the floor of the monastry and left the only place i had ever called home. I made my way into the town of Zendar knowing what my life would become now, it would become revenge.