Post by Seran on May 20, 2005 5:13:45 GMT -5
I've purposefully not posted much of the information I have, however this character has an extensive history and personality already developed if the moderators are looking for more than what I've written.
Name: Seran Tylriin
Psuedonym: Al Khii'al, Khii'al
Profession: Assassin
Disposition: Agressive disinterest in the comings and goings of others, cold, calculating. Murderous but not cruel, simply brutishly unfeeling abut the subject. In a word: Indifferent. Willful and independent.
Sample Post:
Gavan was not what one could even dane to be human; He did not have that kind of dignity to uphold. The assassin grit his teeth and fought his instinctual reaction to this room. It felt like needles in his veins to even have to entertain this charade over and over again. His master only smiled, sweet as honey, obviously revelling in the Akkadian's blood-borne reaction towards his enslavement. The assassin did not look up. His entire body gagged in silent rebellion against his subjugation and was fueled by a milennia of racial hatred of outside domination.
"I have a job for you." Gavan said, leering at the Akkadian, trying to probe a reaction from him. The assassin's sensitive nerves screamed at the intrusion. Another day, another fight, another gladiator dead and another gold coin in Gavan's pocket. There was no answer. Had he tried, he might have choked on the thought of breathing the same air as the slaver.
The 'requests' were always the same. Gavan liked to use his prized Akkadian to tip the match in his favor by killing or crippling the opponent the night or two before hand. Ever since they had lost Abuh on a bet Gavan had set about using him to fix the gladitorial matches and other just as trival pursuits. And in his submissive position, there was nothing the assassin could do about it. It took the sheer force of his will to raise his head, mismatched eyes glaring with disgust at his master. Gavan smiled sickly, and the light caught briefly a few gold teeth.
"Good. I knew you'd be up for it."
The only reaction visible was the slight bulge on the assassin's jawline as the muscle tightened. Gavan would be his master for precious little longer. It would end tonight.
---
Gavan had seen some horrors in his day but nothing like this. Anyone could be depraved and cruel to a victim, if they clung to their precious hatred and suffering as most did. It worked especially well if the victim was alreay an offender in the first place. Savagery in the form of gleeful slaughter was easy. There was something far more frightening about this kind of brutal nonchalance he saw before him. Coupled with great speed and efficiency the death given here shook Gavan to the bone as he surveyed the dead bodies of the guards littering the floor of the slave quarters. Never had he seen such obvious indifference to it. He could already feel the bile rising in his throat in a mix of fear and anger. The assassin was on the run. Turning to the men behind him his face tightened and grew red which matched the strain in his voice.
"Find him."
Name: Seran Tylriin
Psuedonym: Al Khii'al, Khii'al
Profession: Assassin
Disposition: Agressive disinterest in the comings and goings of others, cold, calculating. Murderous but not cruel, simply brutishly unfeeling abut the subject. In a word: Indifferent. Willful and independent.
Sample Post:
Gavan was not what one could even dane to be human; He did not have that kind of dignity to uphold. The assassin grit his teeth and fought his instinctual reaction to this room. It felt like needles in his veins to even have to entertain this charade over and over again. His master only smiled, sweet as honey, obviously revelling in the Akkadian's blood-borne reaction towards his enslavement. The assassin did not look up. His entire body gagged in silent rebellion against his subjugation and was fueled by a milennia of racial hatred of outside domination.
"I have a job for you." Gavan said, leering at the Akkadian, trying to probe a reaction from him. The assassin's sensitive nerves screamed at the intrusion. Another day, another fight, another gladiator dead and another gold coin in Gavan's pocket. There was no answer. Had he tried, he might have choked on the thought of breathing the same air as the slaver.
The 'requests' were always the same. Gavan liked to use his prized Akkadian to tip the match in his favor by killing or crippling the opponent the night or two before hand. Ever since they had lost Abuh on a bet Gavan had set about using him to fix the gladitorial matches and other just as trival pursuits. And in his submissive position, there was nothing the assassin could do about it. It took the sheer force of his will to raise his head, mismatched eyes glaring with disgust at his master. Gavan smiled sickly, and the light caught briefly a few gold teeth.
"Good. I knew you'd be up for it."
The only reaction visible was the slight bulge on the assassin's jawline as the muscle tightened. Gavan would be his master for precious little longer. It would end tonight.
---
Gavan had seen some horrors in his day but nothing like this. Anyone could be depraved and cruel to a victim, if they clung to their precious hatred and suffering as most did. It worked especially well if the victim was alreay an offender in the first place. Savagery in the form of gleeful slaughter was easy. There was something far more frightening about this kind of brutal nonchalance he saw before him. Coupled with great speed and efficiency the death given here shook Gavan to the bone as he surveyed the dead bodies of the guards littering the floor of the slave quarters. Never had he seen such obvious indifference to it. He could already feel the bile rising in his throat in a mix of fear and anger. The assassin was on the run. Turning to the men behind him his face tightened and grew red which matched the strain in his voice.
"Find him."
