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Character introduction/biography

Hey all, I'm new to this shard but an old veteran of UO. Like many of you who are taking the time to read this I believe role-playing is by far the best aspect of the game. At the core of all great shards is a thriving RP community. So, with that in mind, I thought I would kick off the first discussion thread in the forum with a place to introduce yourself (both in-game and/or out of character.) Feel free to use the template I choose or make up your own. 

Name: Synn Wright
Race: Human
Age: 32
Occupation: Trader/Hunter/Trapper
Appearance: 6'0'' Caucasian/slight tan with short brown hair/full beard. Large dark brown, almost black  eyes, a thin nose and mouth almost completely hidden by facial hair. Medium build and unassuming.   
Skills: Handles a sword and a bow with proficiency, adept at blending in to his surroundings when needed.  
Of note: Synn is equally comfortable in the city or the deep forest. He is quiet but quick with a joke if comfortable with those around. Not entirely forthcoming about his job's wilderness expeditions but never seems to lack for any funds.
I can't tell if that's your character, or you Synn!  As a player, I played 97-02 on Great Lakes, in an RP guild called the Coven of the Secret Shadow, a small tight knit group led by a lady I'll always remember named Ariyana Sune.  After the game changed, and casting gear, trammel, other things appeared, it was time for me to move on, and after 15 years of searching for a game that would give me the same social experiences, connections and depth of player interaction, I finally found it coming back to a free shard about 9 months ago, and haven't been able to put this game down again.   

The friendships and the memories are what make a game, and with a brand new world to explore, using a tried, tested and true game, I'm hoping to make many more here at UO Outlands. 

Character Name: Avalon Alduin
Race: Human
Age: Unknown (very old)
Occupation: Scribe/Librarian/Mage
Appearance: 5'11" Caucasian/very white, long white hair, with a long orange/brown beard.  
Skills: Adept with a pen, and fluent in the language of magic.
Of note: Avalon is a historian, a scholar, someone who looks for the reason and purpose of all things. He is a patient, and easy to get along with old man, but when backed into a corner, draws from the knowledge and experience of his many years of magical studies.
Name: Nekronos

Race: Human/maybe supernatural entity

Age: Older than he acts

Occupation: Philosopher, Prophet, Community Organizer and Activist, Social Justice Warrior, Hired Hand, Gardener, Bon Vivant, Artist, Novelist, Cartoonist, Scientist, Mad Scientist, Propaganda and Public Relations Expert, Community College Adjunct Professor, Small Claims Court Adjudication Parliamentarian, Genealogist, Crime Fighter, Arsonist, Snake Oil Sales Representative, Longshoreman, Career Military and Special Operations Advisor, Certified Tax Professional, and Credit Risk. References Available Upon Request.

Appearance: is 5’10 but his paperwork says 6’1. A man of modest frame and small squishy tummy, his physique is somewhat different from ones initial expectations for a hero whose legendary deeds precede him. He has hair, but is clearly quickly losing more each day with the ever creeping promise of death taking its exacting toll on all features of his appearance from his receding hairline to his ever growing collection of wrinkles along his eyes and mouth. He remains devastatingly handsome to crowds of women having still some indescribable permanent youthful look in his blue eyes when he is excited. He is of average length with below average girth.

Skills: Nekronos has a diverse collection of skills that he has learned from his unique life experiences and quite sketchy background. He has an uncanny ability to absorb information, but usually only fragmented sometimes disparate and irreverent chunks.

Of note: Nekronos hates notes and so he rarely takes them, and reads them even less. He is a known trickster, imbiber of all manner of pharmacological products he can get his hands on, and thrives on terror, chaos, confusion, and war. He is also a lover of friends, family, animals, culture and art, a friend to nature and all Orcs. Some legends say that he is not man at all but rather some trickster demon or Demi-god sent to confound and delight.
Name: Brandon A. R. Van Raily

Gender: Male

Age: Early thirties

Height/Weight: 5'10"/15 stones

Features: Human. Shaved head, the tiny bristles on his scalp silvery at his temples. Crow's feet, thick eyebrows and weary bags crown worn, dark brown eyes. An old scar cuts diagonally across his left cheek and another across the bridge of his nose. A half chelsea smile hooks up his right cheek from the corner of his mouth, forcing a permanent smirk as his lip curls up at the source. His body is latticed with scars of every kind: claw marks, lacerations, puncture wounds; his body cracks and aches with every step. A Papuan tribal tattoo wraps around his right arm with a dire wolf silhouette on his bicep while a half-sleeve of Avatarian liturgies wraps his left, several lines scarred through with a knife. Marriage has forced his miserable scowl into pirate smiles from time to time.

Appearance: A brace of naval flintlocks suspend beneath his arms, rocking at either side of his ribs, while a double-barreled dragoon is holstered at his right thigh. On his left hip hangs a bastard sword, whose blade has been cut down further to accommodate the cramped conditions of ship fighting, while a severely curved shamshir hangs low from a drop scabbard at his right, the brass cap often skipping on uneven ground. Around his neck hangs a tattered shemagh from Nujel'm, patterned in browns and whites, while an old calico red bandanna covers his scalp. A faded waist sash surrounds a thick kidney belt, from which hang a spyglass case, a basilard, and a whip, along with a variety of small pouches and tools. Upon his shoulders drapes a weather-beaten leather boat cloak, frayed at the edges from years of service.

Profession: Mercenary, privateer, freebooter, filibuster.

Origin: Born in Paws, orphaned in Minoc at 12.

Special Characteristics: None.

Additional Info:
Orphaned in Minoc as a child, he was put to work in the mines of Mount Kendall to work for a local company, supplying ingots for cheap. This led to his first violent run in with thieves and murderers, where he swore to visit Trinsic one day and become a paladin in order to protect the weak. He was, instead, taken to Vesper by a fellow miner, whereupon the boy was to help him rob graves from the cemetery. Left alone when the denizens therein butchered his friend, Van Raily turned to vagrancy, surviving in the streets of Vesper, wandering the highway past Cove and then struggling in the alleys of West Britain.

In the midst of adolescence, he found and lost love in Minoc, was subsequently blamed for her loss by a powerful clan and cast out of the town. In Vesper, Van Raily sought work in the Order Guard. Knowing little of warfare and fighting, the boy signed up for something he felt he could be proud of: a career as a soldier defending the realm of Britannia. He would learn the life of a common grunt was neither glamorous nor glorious; the ranks were full of criminals, thieves and traitors, and the child soldier discovered a worldview that he would never shake.

However, he learned well enough and quickly enough, and at fourteen, Brandon Van Raily took his first bounty. Murder came easy for the child thereafter. His friends disappeared, having died in the harsh wilds of the northeast or turned to hunting him; life as a paladin, defending the weak, and marrying his sweetheart were far off dreams never to come true. Instead, he left for the newly established settlement of Delucia to make his own way on the Frontier.

Gang warfare and common thuggery carried him until he turned fifteen. Opportunities to fight in the contested woods of Yew piqued his interest, and he assembled a group to seek fortune among the vying powers under the guise of contracted soldiers from the capital. This led to some success and introduced him to the politics of the northwest, but his gang soon disbanded to seek their fortunes elsewhere. It was then that he made his reputation as a private contractor that would last ever after.

Assassination, infiltration, sabotage, subterfuge, intimidation - the lifestyle was one he took to with ease, despite his youth. His skills were sold to the highest bidder, tens of thousands of gold passing his palms for a life, a guild, a message. When clients were less than interested in his employment, Brandon found extortion to be a complimentary asset to keep his potential employers in line. There seemed to be no end in sight to the devastation and bloodshed, the murder toll climbing, and all around him adversaries came and went, often at his hands. The youth saw no way out, and from atop the shattered thousands at his feet, he felt rooted in this life of endless slaughter. After he turned seventeen, however, a woman came into his life, one who made him think about his actions, but more importantly, his future.

Van Raily took to the seas, to the island of Nujel'm, where he sought stability in creating his own community. It was his first foray into governing, a blind attempt at turning his wrongs around and making a place he could call home. A place he could defend, with his life if necessary, and live out his days secluded far away from the bitter realities of the mainland. It would not last; despite its successes, the peace turned to complacency, the townsfolk turned to criminality, the woman betrayed him, and before long the young man found himself working with contacts in the Den, both old and new, and abandoned the city. No matter how far he ran, the long, brutal arm of the world's most heinous truths always found their sharp fingertips around his throat. With reluctant acceptance, he returned to his life as a brigand and mercenary on the island town of Skara Brae, where he was once again in his prime.

Years went by, wars fought, campaigns waged, while malice and rage brewed in his heart toward a world unjust and unforgiving. Into early adulthood, Van Raily sought to create another community, one with guidance and wisdom he felt he had learned in his trials since Nujel'm. However, his own lost childhood, put into perspective by witnessing friends and family being victimized by the harsh realities of Britannia, came under self-aware scrutiny by a maturing mind under wicked circumstances. In desperation to make sense of this darkness he sought the Virtues, perverting them through his own skewed perspective, seeking to punish and destroy others in a delusional attempt at righting the world through unbridled violence. Brutally efficient and inexplicably vicious, even by his own standards, Van Raily would disappear from the public eye after years of prejudicial genocide, public executions and mass murder, but not before revealing two things about himself he learned as an inquisitor:

He had a penchant for torture, and he was exceptionally good at it.

In the Marsh Hall of Vesper, he appeared once more, now a 25-year-old captain of a privateer, the Black Wind. In the years that followed his disappearance, his beleaguered soul came to terms with the truth of a world that plagued him so: there was no one coming to save them, no unified peoples who would collectively stomp out injustice or systematically right the wrongs of the universe, by word or steel. There was only survival at all costs, utilizing whatever tools might be at hand. For Brandon Van Raily, his tools were still sharp as ever: smuggling runs into Cove, gang fights around the canals of Vesper, settling Port Windemere as a base of operations and widespread piracy made his crew strong and wealthy. It was at this time he had met a terrible gambler and petty rogue, Fay Tayler, who would become his purser and future wife. Traveling the world and leading his crew into multiple adventures, the captain began garnering a reputation as a terrible adversary on the oceans of the world when the fortified city of Trinsic became his next objective.

There he founded the Trinsic Trading Company, a front for naval operations that would lead to multiple wars and campaigns both on land and at sea. The rest would become muddled if not censored history: taking the seas by force and extorting the world to sail them; establishing a free, independent state of Trinsic; annexing the Den as a penal colony; closing off Khaldun to non-sanctioned adventurers; and leading the charges of the once mighty Trinsic Guard, both at home and abroad, destroying every adversary in its path. Years as a soldier of fortune honed his combat prowess to a razor edge. Multiple attempts at founding settlements and towns wisened him to leading civilians and governing, both with open magnanimity and ruthless terror. When his crew grew wealthy and the land no longer inspired action, he took a few of the remaining crew of the Black Wind and left, seeming never to return, dead, retired or both.

Years later, now in his thirties, Brandon Van Raily assembled a new organization and launched a campaign against former allies and new adversaries alike, a piratical thelassocratic company under the Vesper Commerce Commission. Where his fleet sailed the unlicensed fled in fear, or as was often the case, taken a prize, its crew killed and its booty stolen. Time and time again he has proven his worth on the brine, comfortable on the deck of an enemy frigate at the head of marines or upon the quarter deck of the brig-sloop, the Wily Otter, directing a fleet action. It makes no difference to him, for the coin flows freely as his voice demands adherence, or his guns command compliance.

There is no heaven, no rewarding afterlife awaiting him and his; his peace will come at the end of a flintlock, a land sown in blood-soaked fields with allies standing at his side, and his enemies carrion beneath his heels. Now, as a new land peaks on the horizon, the captain and his hungry gaze eagerly seek new prizes and fortunes, ready to take what is rightfully his, to create a sanctuary for his crew and his family - no matter how many lives must perish to do so.
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Names: Ciarda & Cydaea Fentress

Age: 25 Years

Heights: Ciarda - 5'10" / Cydaea - 5'8"

Place of Origin: Unknown (the story seems to always change)

Occupation: Cutthroats/Mercenaries/Pirates

Ciarda - Slightly taller than her sister with thick dark brown hair which always looks wet from her time at sea. Her blue eyes reflect even the faintest of light and remind those who gaze upon them of the sea. Carries a pair of flintlock pistols with a third one tucked away in her belt in the front. Dragon tattoos cover her body.
Cydaea - Most make note that she looks more feminine than her sister with a small, slightly upturned nose, fuller lips, and bright blue/green eyes. Her hair is fiery copper that looks full and well maintained even beneath her enormous tricorne hat. Like her sister, she has flintlock pistols but usually only has need for one while the other safetly is tucked away in her belt. She wears various belts upon her person including a large one that drapes from her shoulder down to her opposite hip which see uses to keep items for ready access. Her right forearm is covered in a gray-leather bracer and her right hand a gray-leather glove which helps her steady her flintlock easier. Her body is covered in tribal tattoos mixed with a few spider-related ones.

Affiliation: They have no affiliation other than to each other nor do they have loyalty to any person other than one another. If the price is right they will do what needs to be done.

Additional Info: The twins are fraternal which often confuses people who come across them as they often just introduce themselves as the Fentress Twins and don't always give their own first names. Their origin is clouded in mystery as many have heard stories that their parents were ruthless cutthroats who murdered and pillaged throughout Outlands while others have heard they were born from wealth and murdered their parents at a young age as well as a slew of other origin stories. What is clear is that they seem to enjoy murder and almost find it an art form.

Calling themselves dread pirates they have, in recent years, procured a small frigate which they have refurbished and named The Devourer. Although only pirating for a short time they have made an impact on anyone they come across, whether win, lose, or draw.

Among the stories that circulate about them one that is been said by witnesses is the twins have often took part in cannibalism which some say is just another sick thrill they get while others believe it has a more ritualistic origin and that they believe by consuming the flesh of fallen foes they absorb some of their energy. No one knows for sure.

Other rumors have been said that both sometimes engage in incest. While no one is able to confirm this it has become simply another myth surrounding them.

Strong-willed with an appetite for fortune and death the Fentress Twins sail into the unknown and welcome whatever awaits them.
ArnÞórr (Andor) Oddrsson is a sturdy man, roughly six feet tall, with more than thirty winters on his back. He has wavy light hair, usually in a ponytail, greyish eyes and a thick beard covering his jaw and chin.
He lives in the Outpost, woodcutting and hunting, sometimes sailing with merchants in need of laborers or someone to keep them safe.
Not a very talkative man, ArnÞórr is known as someone willing to get his hands dirty among his fellow citizens, and it seems he served in some mercenary band int he past.
Name: Fay "Tayler" Van Raily
Age: Late twenties, early thrities
Height/Weight: 5'3" 10stone (140lbs)
Origin: Britain
Profession: Trader, Privateer
Identifying features: Small scar through left eyebrow. Tattoo on the back of her right shoulder of two pair of aces and eights.

Apperance: Despite her small stature, her chin remains level with the ground, only tilting casually to absorb her surroundings with playful blue eyes. Once tamed curls now bounce freely, flirting with her ribs. A petite nose hooks to the left while vulgarities flow freely from full rouge lips, tinged with British street accents. Doeskin leggings squeeze supple thighs while black frogs grip a swept-hilt rapier and main gauche. Her chemise is kept from blossoming out of a corset by a bandolier of flintlocks.

Born in Britain, Fay was orphaned as a baby. At thirteen, she was asked to leave permanently due to 'disruptive behavior' and 'non-compliance', often in the forms of missing supplies from both the home and her fellow orphans, as well as fencing dubiously familiar goods back to their original owners.

After years of pick pocketing to survive the streets, Fay was finally able to afford a small room near The Cat's Lair tavern. With things looking up, the woman who came from nothing lacked the judgement to better herself, and the money she had she gambled away, always one bad hand from the streets again. Despite the addiction, her years in the gutters and back alleys of West Britain made her resourceful, so when her debts finally caught up with her, she was able to easily disappear into the wilds of Britannia.
The dangerous highways were a common home, her dainty lady-like facade at odds with the wilderness in which she lived. Survival came from her brief but tumultuous visits to the urban centers of Britannia: running distraction for orphans in Minoc, fencing goods from stolen hearts in Yew, and cheating dice players in Cove. It was in the Barony that a chance encounter with the captain of the Black Wind, Brandon Van Raily, changed her luck - and her life - forever.

Fay spent years among the crew, participating in gang wars on the canals of Vesper, running a private port outside of Minoc, and eventually establishing a trading company in Trinsic. While literacy was something she improvised more often than not, legitimate work as the crew's purser educated her into a proper business woman, and in time her contracting led to the company becoming the backbone of the Free City of Trinsic - along with the heavy-handed extortion enforced by the privateer brig, the Black Wind.

In her late twenties, Fay was the longest standing crew member other than the captain, which lead the two marred souls growing close. Eventually eloping quietly outside of the public eye, they used their combined riches to put themselves into and pull themselves out of trouble, ever on the lam.

Years later Fay and her partner have accrued endless adventures together alongside long-standing mates Quilen Filch, Cheeto "Fingers" Mainsail and others. In Vesper they took the seas by force under the Vesper Commerce Commission, and crushed what feeble opposition stood in their way, the least of which included their previous home, Trinsic. After they established the Riverside Trading Company outside of Hyboria, fending off barbarians and bandits in the wastelands, and violently bringing their own sense of order to an otherwise lawless land. Now, the crew sets sail for a new horizon, a fresh land to again make their mark - Avadon
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Name: Arthur Dayne
Age: Mid-20's
Height/Weight: 6'2, 190lbs
Origin: Cambria
Profession: Cambrian Nobleman, Knight
Appearance: Dark brown hair, violet eyes that sparkle in the light (a family trait). A handsome lad, but war and duty have exerted themselves on his features. He's tall and of sturdy build.
House Words: "We are the Dawn that Breaks the Long Night"

Background: Arthur descends from an ancient Cambrian bloodline, with it's roots in Old Trinsic. He and his House are stalwart defenders of the city of Cambria. Securing peace, prosperity, and order in the city guides most of his actions. Arthur was second in line to the Lordship, however, his older brother was killed during the defense of Cambria in the heat of a Prevalian assault when Arthur was 13. Due to this loss, Arthur harbors great disdain for the Prevalian Imperialists, and often wears his hostility openly despite Cambria and Prevalia being mostly at peace for now...

Upon his 22nd birthday, Arthur was declared Sword of the Morning. This is an honorary title bestowed upon only the most worthy knight within House Dayne, and with it the ancestral blade Dawn. Dawn is forged from the core of a fallen star and has been in the family since long before the Cataclysm. The seat of House Dayne, Starfall, was erected on the spot where the founder of the House ( Vorian Dayne) discovered the meteorite. The responsibility of being the Lord of Starfall and the Sword of the Morning weighs heavily on Arthur.

Arthur is a devotee to the Virtue of Compassion and there are rumors that he is involved with a cult centering around the Virtue. There is also courtly speculation and gossip regarding the reason he has yet to take a wife, despite the pressure from his bannermen to secure the succession with an heir. There is much anxiety among the banners that Arthur will fall in battle like his brother, creating a succession crisis.

(will be updated and adjusted as more shard Lore is released)
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Name: Jack Harrow

Age: A man in his 70s, though he has an unnatural resistance to aging. He would appear to be in his mid-late 30s.

Appearance: Jack has an average height and slender build. His skin is white and waxy, stretched across the skeleton of a meager physique. His body lacks any hair, as if it were arid and couldn't grow. Two black pock marks for eyes catch most people's attention first. He carries few things with him, but at the very least a book of magic and lore.


Origin: Andaria

Profession: Conjurer, Channeler, and Purveyor of magical trinkets, scrolls, potions, etc.

Background: Jack was a scholar and highly proficient student of magic in his youth. He was a usual young man, with sandy brown hair, bright eyes, and an excitement for exploring the world. His curiosity into deeper magics involving spirits began his transformation into who he is today. The contact with the spirit world had the potential for great power, but also risks that he wasn't initially aware of. It was when he began summoning this power from the spirit world that he transformed parlour tricks to raw magical strength. However, each conjured spell left a piece of himself in the spirit world. A price must be paid.

Today, Jack is sort of a haunted figure, with his image slightly blurred. He stands one foot in the mortal world, and one foot in the spirit. You would naturally think that a person would want to step away from a path that slowly drains your existence. But you haven't felt the hunger and temptation of a world bending to your fingertips. This does not make Jack an evil sorcerer. He prefers to use his talents to serve the realm, but take that as you will.

Affiliations: Jack works with numerous factions in the realm.
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Pfschoo! Much many wordz an scribblz! Znurruk nub like! Diz nub shtorri tym! Lez wordy bitz an more clobberin! Waaaagh!

Hello all, I am Snurk. Pleased to meet you all.
Hail and well met! Now that launch is within sight, I thought I'd introduce myself to the RP community.

I am a long time UO player, having first played in 1998 and more recently, on another free shard since 2014. I am an avid fan of the fantasy genre and enjoying bringing my favourite LotR, Dungeons & Dragons, Dragonlance Chronicles, Warhammer 40k and Magician (Raymond E Feist) characters to life.

For Outlands, my aim is to be a wanderer, fighting monsters and exploring the entire continent on foot. I have yet to decide on either a wandering swordsman/minstrel or the archetypal ranger/archer. I plan on playing one character only and spend almost all of my time out in the wilds.

Name: Ecthelion
Race: Undecided - Elven or Half-elven or Human
Age: Uknown, although he has the appearance of a man in his 30s
Occupation: Wandering swordsman/ranger
Appearance: To borrow a passage from one of my favourite books:
He had the look common to the hunters and rangers that lived in the forests: large-shoulders, tall and solidly built. He had the raw, weather-beaten appearance of one who spends most of his time outdoors.
Skills and Background:
He is a retired knight and master swordsman. Previously, he was a Knight-Captain and Blademaster to his king, but having seen enough of war, he asked be released from service and now roams the land in search of a good inn, a good woman and some hearty adventure. Easy going and quick to laughter, he is gifted with both sword and lute, and can be heard laughing in the midst of battle as he wields his sword and shield with ease and deadly elegance.

He is a ranger of the north. One of the gruff and mysterious men who spend their time in the forests, protecting fair folk from the unseen dangers of the wilds. Although he is reserved and a man of few words, he has an elven sense of humour: a wry grin and a chuckle, in appreciation for the humour in the simple things in life. He is known by his compatriots as Cuthalion, meaning "strong bow" for his peerless skill and mastery of the bow. He keeps largely to himself, preferring the company of nature but occasionally visits the city to restock provisions and trade goods. His primary mission is to hunt down monsters to maintain the balance of nature and to eliminate their threat to the townships of Outlands.

ranger paperdoll.png
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The name Ecthelion stems from an elven character in JRR Tolkien's The Silmarillion. I understand the game only allows Human as your race, but for role-play purposes, I'm of a mind that you can choose to be whichever race, so long as your appearance matches your backstory.

I'm actually pretty tempted to make a Dwarf considering all the fantastic beard graphics in Outlands!
The name Ecthelion stems from an elven character in JRR Tolkien's The Silmarillion. I understand the game only allows Human as your race, but for role-play purposes, I'm of a mind that you can choose to be whichever race, so long as your appearance matches your backstory.

I'm actually pretty tempted to make a Dwarf considering all the fantastic beard graphics in Outlands!
UO role-play sky's the limit. You want to be an elf be an elf! You do you!