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Ciphar Priest Vice Captain
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 Posted: Sun Jul 25, 2010 11:26 pm
 Click for UncertThis Sacrifice has 3 points!
This journal belongs to Ezhno Paiute and Whirlwing. Please do obey the rules set forth by the Sacrifice of Ciphar Guild and the user themselves.
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Posted: Mon Jul 26, 2010 3:34 am
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx O1. Opening Post
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx O2. Table of Contents
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx O3. Ezhno Paiute
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx O4. Personality
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx O5. Historyxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx O6. Future Plans
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx O7. Relationships
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx O8. Roleplay Logxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx O9. Growth
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx 1O. Gallery
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx 11. Reserved
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx 12. Reserved
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx 13. Reserved
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx 14. Reserved
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx 15. Credits
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Posted: Mon Jul 26, 2010 3:51 am
  xxxxxName: Ezhno, meaning 'solitary.' He has a true name and a clan, but he hasn't trusted those to anyone for so long that the words might as well have rotted in his mouth.
xxxxxAge: 17
xxxxxHometown: Nateev Outlands
xxxxxClass: Mage, Earth
xxxxxSecond Class: Alchemist, Being
xxxxxWeapon: An amulet of petrified wood. Hung on a brown leather cord, it is never removed from Ezhno's person. The location of the clasp makes it appear like a figure eight, but it is actually the symbol for infinity turned on its side. Since the one who gifted him with it is dead, the irony of eternity isn't lost on Ezhno, yet if it warms against his neck, he never suspects that it is anything more than a bit of lingering soul.
xxxxxHeight and Build: A meagre 5'6, Ezhno is built narrow all the way down, with dangerous elbows and arms and legs that seem too long for grace. Thin, so that his fingers show off the shape of his bones and his jawline is oddly pronounced, he's lean and hungry in the way of some predator, perhaps the coyote that was his clan's totem.
xxxxxAppearance: Ezhno has the sorrel skin, black hair and angular features typical of his race, but his eyes are green-ochre, the colour of dying grass. Fine, pale scars streak his left temple area, dividing one of his brows sharply in half. His hair is worn long around the face, the rest braided at his back in two thick ropes and bound with strips of cloth. Three eagle feathers are woven into them.
xxxxxExpression: Varies greatly. Flat as well water, still and unreadable in a way that sets you on edge. Austere in repose, his face transforms with mirth or anger (both as likely as the other, given his unstable temperament), displaying his crooked teeth.
xxxxxClothing: Ezhno favours a loose, draped garment with wide sleeves that conceal most of his frame and leave his arms unhindered below the elbow. Cinched in at the waist, he's ripped several inches from the traditional length hemline to allow for maximum movement and has hacked off most of the free-falling tassels for the same reason. This outfit is usually paired with high-top, buckskin moccasins, which he treats as an additional pocket, but as there aren’t many surfaces that bother him unduly with his calloused feet, he’s content to go barefoot.
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Posted: Mon Jul 26, 2010 3:55 am
 
xxxxxPersonality: For verily, I say unto you, whoever says to this mountain, 'Be removed and be cast into the sea,' and does not doubt in his heart, but believes that those things he says will be done, he will have whatsoever he says. Brazen. Quick to anger. Untameable. From the beginning, Ezhno was a force of nature; that he would eventually learn to shift earth through his will alone was news that could surprise no one. The scars on his face are a testament to his iron-clad will; in a tight-knit community where gossip travelled faster than a hawk, it was rumoured that no normal ritualised punishment could discourage Ezhno from a task he'd set his mind to - someday the elders would have to take an arrow to his eye.
Ezhno's strength is of a kind that doesn't trust others. He doesn't speak much anymore, but when he does, he can be direct to the point of callousness, which has the secondary purpose of keeping people away - he never learned to express himself properly; his mother and Nodin could interpret well enough on their own. The urge to protect and slaughter runs hot in his blood; Nodin's death fleeced much of his already lacking control, leaving an unpredictable creature of instinct and rage that doesn't answer to anyone. Moreover, he has no faith in people not to misuse any power they have over him, and so chafes at the idea that such power exists in the first place.
When a fight breaks out, it's more than likely that Ezhno will be in the thick of it. He holds the notion that if he can face the worst danger voluntarily, and triumph, he will forever have power over it. He has little tolerance for cowards, but is nevertheless moved to shield people who can't be trusted to save themselves, and has an unlikely reverence for flowers and plants.
Those unfamiliar with Ezhno will view him as a loose cannon. This isn't entirely true - there are simply many things that will set him off. Questions about his clan, for one. His past. His amulet. His hair. He's also particularly touchy about his eyes. Which, as you can imagine, makes the most basic of conversations riddled with traps. As a child, he did not play well with others, and did not like to share; two traits he never grew out of.
xxxxxLikes: Sleeping, sunbathing, large bodies of water, hunts, straight-forwardness, fighting for the sake of it, meat, desert apples.
xxxxxDisikes: Thunder, being restricted, not getting what he wants, feeling guilty (a very unusual occurrence), losing.
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Posted: Mon Jul 26, 2010 4:02 am
  xxxxxHistory: With Azhe to the West and Persa to the East, foreigners have come to see Nateev as the friendly middleland of the South, where the roads are open and home to vibrant, painted merchants. They forget that parts of Nateev are an underdeveloped wasteland, that it was once also a place of war. Ezhno was not born on the spice plantation, but in the surrounding desert, what the elders call the Badlands. It is said the god Halan stepped on a mountain there in fury, flattening the area where hardly anything has grown thereafter.
Ezhno's clan lived estranged from the affairs of the capital, making a home for themselves behind outcrops of arid bedrock. A band which produced warriors and hunters since a time before memory saw little point in peace; such a thing never lasted. It was a scant existence that served to make its people durable and assiduous. They did not pray for easy lives; they prayed for stronger men.
Ezhno's mother had been a pious woman, tough as cactus spines, and known throughout the tribe as Kuruk's beautiful demon wife, Atsila. When Kuruk died under suspicious circumstances, she pledged her unborn child to Maar, god of pain and violent death, so that none would dare lift a finger against them. Such a god was not to be invoked lightly, and perhaps nothing would have come of it if the clan were not so superstitious, or if Ezhno had not been born with ghoulwitch eyes, but it was a Sign that some deity had a hand over this boy's head. As time passed and Ezhno became wilder, it was easy to believe that he was Maar's son, and even the elders crossed their fingers behind their backs.
Abnormally skilled with the bow and dagger from a young age, bets on Ezhno were a popular pasttime - how long would it take for him to skin a snake, or how many minutes until first blood - and his clan soon discovered that there was nothing so troublesome as a disobedient genius, who sometimes disappeared for a week at a time, and came home dragging a dead pronghorn. Only Nodin, the chief's son, had any hope of quelling him. Where Nodin was, Ezhno could be found, and whether that was the point or the problem was anyone's guess.
When Ezhno's mother fell to water sickness, it could be seen in the paleness of the people's faces. They feared what Ezhno would do as much as they feared the wrath of Maar. For two ten-days, Ezhno did not hunt. If he spoke, it wasn't in their presence. He did not seem to cry. But he did not kill anyone either, and he had more than one opportunity against those who'd speak ill of the dead. Nodin's hand on his arm was reassuring. For a while, the clansmen thought him declawed.
The night before Atsila was due to be purified, a sandstorm struck the camp. There had been no omens; hardly any time was given to tighten water drums and knot down the tents before the brunt of it hit, and each man retreated to their own dwelling, whispering curses or assurances of devotion while the gods hurled down fistfuls of sand.
In the morning, when the brave crept outside, Ezhno was crouched over Nodin's body with blood down his front, laughing. Three other boys lay around them with their bellies slit, and Ezhno had three eagle feathers clenched in his palm.
They did not know what to do with him. If he was guilty, he didn't show it. He showed nothing. But there was something in the way he carried himself now that said volumes, that dared anyone to come near and be gutted like a dumb animal. With Halan's blessing, the priest from Ciphar came not long after, and for reasons that remained his own, Ezhno did not say no.
The villagers were relieved. Perhaps Maar would not hound them so if His son was returned to His side.
(( The gods named above come from my imagination and are meant to represent those worshipped by Ezhno's particular clan. They are probably not 'real' in the sense of having power over Naeol, if there is an actual set of Gods particular to Ciphar and central to meta.
For reference, Halan is a creation spirit. Maar is the god of agony, destruction and unrestful death. Kuruk, Nodin and Atsila are real names meaning 'bear,' 'wind' and 'fire' respectively. ))
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Posted: Mon Jul 26, 2010 4:03 am
xxxxxDisposition: To say he's bitter about being deceived and parceled off to a strange land is an understatement. He sees it as Maar going back on his word, and though his faith remains firm, the notion that his favoured god could be an oathbreaker leaves a foul taste in his mouth.
The Ezhno that first arrives in Ciphar will be hard to handle, raw and prone to lashing out, something colourful and furious, or else deadened, unapproachable. Having cheated death twice, he can't be certain the gods aren't blind. Without Nodin, he doesn't know how to be himself - is not wholly himself, anymore.
He plays at it, mad and random and savage, but most of the time he'll just do odd, ruthless things because he's trying them, seeing if they fit. He doesn't want to be alone, finds himself wanting somebody there - to hold or to strangle, he isn't sure, but Halan save anyone who thinks of him as a dog that can be brought to heel.
xxxxxSkillset: Ezhno begins as an earth elemental mage who isn't entirely convinced that these priests aren't messing with something that should stay untouched. Naturally suspicious, he finds everything from uniforms to buildings bizarre (though the latter he scales and explores with raptor-like interest) and spends his time shadowing the archers' and swordsmen's classes instead of attending his own. He does come around to the idea eventually. Earth, after all, can be found everywhere and he likes the thought of being perpetually armed to the teeth.
As a Being Alchemist, he gains the ability to partially morph his body by dispersing from fingertips to shoulder into smoke. It allows his arms to pass through physical matter, for instance, a wall or an enemy's chest, and solidify again once inside. It can also save his limbs from injury, if he's fast enough. For Ezhno, the less complex the better, since the boy would gladly throw himself at a battle with only a dagger and a prayer, trusting in the divine and the training instilled in him since birth.
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Posted: Mon Jul 26, 2010 4:30 am
(( If looking to play with Ezhno, feel free to PM, AIM like confucius, find me in-thread or check here for current plans. ))
Thibault Desmarais |
Shayan Javed |
Soraida Keopichenda |
Signy Ostergaard |
Io Petrakis |
Hasani Rahal |
Enyeto Sioux |
Evangeline Theron |
Castiel Zehaira |
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Posted: Mon Jul 26, 2010 4:31 am
[ORP] - Open | [PRP] - Private | [MRP] - Meta | [NRP] - NPC
Active
[PRP] Ezhno & Enyeto | Dangerous Depths
Complete
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Posted: Mon Jul 26, 2010 4:32 am
Sacrifice
Disciple
Blessed
Apostle
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Posted: Mon Jul 26, 2010 4:35 am
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Posted: Mon Jul 26, 2010 4:36 am
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Posted: Mon Jul 26, 2010 4:37 am
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Posted: Mon Jul 26, 2010 4:39 am
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Posted: Mon Jul 26, 2010 4:40 am
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Posted: Mon Jul 26, 2010 4:46 am
Sacrifices of Ciphar © Kanove & bpyan
Official Art © bpyan
Journal Graphics © Whirlwing
Ezhno Paiute © Whirlwing
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