Katya PolMasiar
| Katya | |||||||
| Female Human | |||||||
| Player: Lady_mord | |||||||
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| General Information | ||||||||||
| Full Name: | Katya Peace-Breaker | |||||||||
| Nicknames: | Kat, Melrakki | |||||||||
| Age: | 28 | |||||||||
| Deity: | Karesha | |||||||||
| Alignment: |
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| Occupation: | Trade Commission Emissary | |||||||||
| Faction/Rank: | Doomguard, Lesser Doomlord | |||||||||
| Place of Birth: | Rjurik Highlands | |||||||||
| Physical Attributes | ||||||||||
| Height: | 5'11" | |||||||||
| Weight: | 185 lbs | |||||||||
| Eyes: | Blue | |||||||||
| Hair: | Platinum Blonde | |||||||||
| Complexion: | Fair | |||||||||
| Physical Build: | Endomorph | |||||||||
| Physical Features: | ||||||||||
| Skills | ||||||||||
| Negotiations,Trade | ||||||||||
| Equipment and Items | ||||||||||
Physical Appearance
Personaly Traits
No one can doubt by looking at my regal bearing, that I am a cut above the unwashed masses. I don't want to get my hands dirty, and I wont be caught dead in unsuitable accommodations.
Ideal
If I can attain more power, no one will tell me what to do.
Bond
I owe my life to my uncle, who took me in when my parents died.
Flaws
- In fact the world DOES revolve around me.
Background Information
(This information is strictly OOC and is not common knowledge)
I was standing on the bluffs that overlook my sleepy little village watching the boats as they approach the port city of Skapa Hjarring. As I am watching the ocean I notice the tides slipping away from the shore. The tiny boats that our fishermen use become completely beached as the tide moves farther away. The villagers near the beach stop to watch this anomaly with the same curiosity that I have. I suddenly feel a pang of dread as I watch the tide start rushing in pushing farther inland than it ever had before, almost as if it was giving the villagers below warning to move, out on the horizon I see a large wave spanning for as far as the eye can see. As it gets closer I can see that this is a massive wall of water barreling toward the shore. I watch with horror as the wall topples the ships heading toward the port, and crushes the tiny fishing vessels that are out to sea.
When the wave crashes on the shore, it obliterates the remaining fishing vessels that were beached. The villagers running in terror tripping and stumbling over each other and becoming one with the water. Their struggle to survive a meaningless dance in futility. The water continues on pushing through the homes washing them away. The water had washed away everything I had known in my short ten years of life. Then just as quickly as the water came it left taking away what it had taken my people decades to create. It appeared as if my village had never existed. Alone I started to walk to Skapa Hjarring when I met the port city guards rushing to provide any aid. I inform them that there is no one nor anything left except for me and they take me back to the capital in order for me to send a letter to my uncle Scyld Unferthssen in Mandal. Uncle Scyld was gracious enough to take me back to Mandal and raise me as his own.
Mandal is a bustling city but I have a hard time adjusting to life away from my quiet village. I begin visiting the temple more and more fascinated by its beauty looking for answers as to why Karesha would allow me to survive such devastation. I decide what better way to get such answers than to serve the church. The priestess sees that I have talent with the sword and feels that I could be great with a little polish. During my training I learn that the sword is a powerful singer of destruction’s beautiful song, it has the ability to destroy a persons dreams in an instant. Unfortunately due to my commitments to the church I see less and less of Uncle. When I do see Uncle he looks exhausted like he hasn’t rest in weeks. His gaze constantly darts about as if something he is watching for something, I asked him to confide in me and he insists that he is fine and that I should focus on my studies instead of him.
I have decide to prove to Uncle that I am strong enough for him to confide in me. I excel in my studies and training soon the church decides to start sending me on missions. I always bring Uncle a little trinket back and it puts a small smile on his face. Much to my chagrin Uncle seems to be getting worse, he has begun having deep conversations with himself about a scroll. Surely the stress of running a trading company has driven him mad. Once upon returning from a mission I walked in on Uncle speaking to himself while holding a scroll tube, when he heard me he threw the scroll into a drawer and shut it. That evening I told the priestess that my uncle was ill and needed my assistance, she allowed it because my uncle had always been kind to the church. That evening I went back to his office and walked into a scene that would change my life forever.
Uncle’s door was wide open, odd considering he had become a recluse in recent months. When I walked in I found Uncle in a pool of blood on the floor. Uncle’s meticulous office had been turned upside down. Drawers and bookcases toppled about and crates busted open. Someone was looking for something in particular and had destroyed the place looking for it. As is looked about the room for clues as to who could have ruined this place I saw a glimpse of something out of the corner of my eye. Upon closer inspection it was the scroll tube that uncle was holding when I surprised him. I don’t know if this was what they were looking for but Uncle had apparently thought it was important enough to hide.
On my way to report the murder to the high priestess I ran into Danica who told me that the guards had been to the barracks looking for me in connection my uncles murder. The church believed that I had murdered Uncle! A voice entered my mind that told me that they were going to blame me for his death and that I had to run. I decided that I would stow away in one of Uncle’s shipping crates in order to escape. Once I broke down the door to the warehouse I suddenly found myself in the strange city surrounded by people. The people didn’t seem very concerned with me as I made my way around I quickly realized that I was not in Mandal anymore.
Languages Known: Dwarven
Hometown/Region: Cerilia, Rjurik Highlands
Rjurik Highlands
(Information not available yet.)
