Ruck

Laiken · (This post was last modified: 08-03-2019, 05:35 AM by Laiken.)

Discord Id - Laiken#9567

Character Name - Ruck formerly known as Remington Leonardo Ingram

Character Race & Sub-Race- Muiri, púca

Alternate Graphic - Crow (718 maybe - will need to be sure that's right from Hal's list)

Character Description - Ruck is a thin man with a long torso and little in the way of visible muscles. He has almost pure white hair that reaches below his shoulders and pale alabaster skin with a handsomely chiseled face almost like that of some statue. His eyes are a honeyed gold, almost like amber. One strange physical abnormality that might be noted is that his fingers and nails appear almost like talons even in his (nearly) human form. When he takes his animal form, it is that of a crow.

[Image: Hot-Concept-Art-by-Ashram-11.jpg]

Character Kingdom - Kraestret

Special Role-play Ability- Uncanny luck - More often than not wins at cards, dice, and other games of chance. Has been known to step in manure only to find a gold trinket stuck to his shoe.

Previous World - None specific, loosely based on Celtic folklore

Backstory

Supposedly being the long lost son of a minor noble allowed him the finer things in life - wines, delicacies, women, and doors that were easily opened to admit the third and last son of an earl. This was how Ruck managed to survive. Many names, faces, and even lives had been granted to him as he adapted to each new situation, taking advantage of those who wanted to believe in all of the pretty lies. None of his societal positionings before had been quite this accommodating and he truly hoped to cling to this iteration as long as inhumanly possible.

That was not to be. After a night of raking in the allowances of his peers in hand after hand of cards followed by plowing the fertile fields of the Duke of Thornwall's bastard daughter, Ruck found himself set upon not by brigands but by his older "brothers". The future heir of the Earl had suffered quite enough of his long lost brother's antics and planned to kill him, this time for good. Ruck's response to the attack was a shrug and flippant, "He should have hired a professional." Not only had Ruck called upon forces unbelievable to his eldest brother but said forces had been powerful enough to obliterate him and the heir was no more.

Cut short in his shenanigans, Ruck decided to take flight - quite literally. Taking the form of a crow, the creature some thought to be a changeling or a púca, Ruck flew the coop. When shot down some hours later, he fell and fell and fell some more. Bruises would mark the landing that damaged both pride and feathers. He was bleeding sliding where a wing had been clipped.

"This way," a disembodied voice called to him as the human form took shape, blood trickling down his upper arm in a slow and fascinating flow. He followed the voice but to where he did not know. "Where are we going?" Ruck finally asked not entirely used to not having some semblance of control over his direction in life. "Perhaps it is not a where, but a when or a what. Could even be a who or is that a whom?" Ruck followed the voice that led him here, a voice that hasn't yet led him astray.