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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.
[font=Roboto, sans-serif]Name[/font][font=Roboto, sans-serif]: Brandon A. R. Van Raily[/font]

[font=Roboto, sans-serif]Gender[/font][font=Roboto, sans-serif]: Male[/font]

[font=Roboto, sans-serif]Age[/font][font=Roboto, sans-serif]: Early thirties[/font]

[font=Roboto, sans-serif]Height/Weight[/font][font=Roboto, sans-serif]: 5'10"/14 stones[/font]

[font=Roboto, sans-serif]Features[/font][font=Roboto, sans-serif]: 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 right cheek and another across the bridge of his nose. A half chelsea smile hooks up his left 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. Marriage has forced his miserable scowl into pirate smiles from time to time.[/font]

[font=Roboto, sans-serif]Appearance: A brace of naval flintlocks suspend beneath his arms, rocking at either side of his ribs, while a double-barreled dragoon is holstered on 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, along with a variety of small pouches. Upon his shoulders drapes a weather-beaten leather boat cloak, frayed at the edges from years of service.[/font]

[font=Roboto, sans-serif]Profession[/font][font=Roboto, sans-serif]: Mercenary, privateer.[/font]

[font=Roboto, sans-serif]Origin[/font][font=Roboto, sans-serif]: Born in Paws, orphaned in Minoc at 12.[/font]

[font=Roboto, sans-serif]Special Characteristics[/font][font=Roboto, sans-serif]: None.[/font]

[font=Roboto, sans-serif]Additional Info[/font][font=Roboto, sans-serif]:[/font]

[font=Roboto, sans-serif]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 run in with thieves and murderers, where he swore to visit Trinsic and become a paladin 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, he turned to vagrancy, surviving in the streets of Vesper, wandering the highway past Cove and then struggling in the alleys of West Britain.[/font]

[font=Roboto, sans-serif]In the midst of adolescence, he found and lost love in Minoc, subsequently blamed for her loss by a powerful clan and cast out of the town, and sought work in the Order Guard of Vesper. 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.[/font]

[font=Roboto, sans-serif]However, he learned well enough and quickly enough, and at fourteen 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 Delucia to make his own way on the Frontier.[/font]

[font=Roboto, sans-serif]Gang warfare and common thuggery carried him until he turned fifteen. Opportunities to fight in the contested woods of Yew peaked 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.[/font]

[font=Roboto, sans-serif]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, and when clients were less than interested in his employment, he found extortion to be a complimentary talent. After he turned seventeen he sought stability in Nujel'm, to create a place he could call his own, and built a community upon the island. It would not last; despite its successes, the peace turned to complacency, and he found himself working with contacts in the Den, both old and new, and abandoned the city. Returning to his life as a brigand and mercenary on the island town of Skara Brae, the young man was once again in his prime.[/font]

[font=Roboto, sans-serif]Years went by, wars fought, campaigns waged, while malice and rage brewed in his heart at a world unjust and unforgiving. His lost childhood, put into perspective by friends and family who were victimized by the brutal environments, 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 unwavering force. Brutally efficient and inexplicably violent, even by his own standards, he would disappear from the public eye after years of prejudicial genocide and mass murder, but not before revealing two things as an inquisitor:[/font]

[font=Roboto, sans-serif]He had a penchant for torture, and he was exceptionally good at it.[/font]

[font=Roboto, sans-serif]In the Marsh Hall of Vesper, he appeared once more, now a 25-year-old captain of a privateer, the [/font][font=Roboto, sans-serif]Black Wind[/font][font=Roboto, sans-serif]. Smuggling runs into Cove, gang fights around the canals of Vesper 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 found Trinsic to be ripe for opportunity, and so he established the Trinsic Trading Company.[/font]

[font=Roboto, sans-serif]The rest would become muddled if not forgotten 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. When his crew grew wealthy and the land no longer inspired action, he took a few of the remaining crew of the [/font][font=Roboto, sans-serif]Black Wind[/font][font=Roboto, sans-serif] and left, seeming never to return, dead, retired or both.[/font]

[font=Roboto, sans-serif]Years later, now in his thirties, he 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 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, directing a fleet action. It made no difference, the coin would flow freely; his voice would demand adherence, or his guns would command compliance.[/font]

[font=Roboto, sans-serif]Now, as a new land peaks on the horizon, the captain and his hungry gaze eagerly seek new prizes and fortunes.[/font]
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.