10-11-2019, 12:09 AM
Discord Id
Annika (Aquarius#1524)
Previous Characters
Currently: Rhys Morgan, Tatiana Vasiliu, Rayyan, Kythaera Argente
Character Name
Lachlan Adair
Character Race & Sub-Race
Muiri; Each-Uisge
Alternate Graphic
Tan Horse (228); Hue 2902 (Black/White Paint)
Character Description
Lachlan is a solidly built man of northern blood, with fair skin that burns easily under too much sun - and hair of the deepest black that almost startlingly contrasts in appearance. His eyes are a vivid blue, intelligent and wary beneath expressive if thick brows. Scars befitting a man that has seen much fighting littler chest and arms and belly. He stands about six feet in height or so, with broad shoulders and the lean muscle of a swordsman. He speaks with a rich Gaelic cant, his tone of voice somewhere in the rougher, deeper ends of a tenor. It is a fine singing voice, that said.
When unglamoured, Lachlan's true form is that of a thickly built stallion with something of a baroque build in his solid legs and thick neck, his muzzle square and ears lightly curved at the tips. His mane and tail are rich and full, and his coat is curious in that it is more of a tobiano pattern of white and black rather than a solid color. Seaweed has a curious penchant for tangling in his mane, and he smells frequently of sea salt and earthly things.
Shard Plot Line (Strengths & Weaknesses)
Being of obvious Muiri make and a creature of legend himself, Lachlan will fit in well with any of the Houses that align to the Courts - especially those with more of a Winter Court/Unseelie tilt to them. He is a warrior, through and through, and could serve well as a guard or the like once he's properly bridled, so to speak.
Special Role-play Ability
TBD at a later time
Previous World
11th Century Scotland
Backstory
For as long as any of those that called the lands surrounding Loch an Dherue could remember, there had been a legend - one that always began with travelers spotting the most beautiful of horses, wild and roaming the hillocks that surrounded the body of water. Always he seemed to come with a fog about him, an early morning mist that did not dissipate under the heat of day. Strangers to the land were often mystified - the locals knew better. They would warn the travelers of the Each-Uisge, the water horse; they would beg travelers take heed and never approach the beast, unless they had a fresh and still bleeding kill to offer him. So was the life he lived for as long as he could recall, watching the rise and fall of mortal men around his loch - ever untouched as it was by industry and civilization. He fed on the villagers when hunger would no longer be sated by pig and sheep and fowl. They turned a blind eye when strangers went amiss, only their livers left to float - the livers always tasted bitter on his tongue, so laden with iron as they were.
It was in his loch that he was finally captured. He had taken of the village - a young and stupid maiden, daughter of the local blacksmith, had trailed too close to his waters. She was delectable, but her father and brother were wrathful for her loss. She was to marry an important figure after all, to ensure the family their fame and fortune whilst she lived a life of giving a man twice her age babies. They sought revenge upon the Each-Uisge, taunted him with a fresh kill and waited. The last memory he has of his world, his place, is being speared twice through with heated barbs of iron through shoulder and haunch. He should be, by all right, dead. He is not, having surfaced in the still waters of Summer Isle looking all the role of a man half-drowned. He does not know who brought him here - or why. But time will tell.
Annika (Aquarius#1524)
Previous Characters
Currently: Rhys Morgan, Tatiana Vasiliu, Rayyan, Kythaera Argente
Character Name
Lachlan Adair
Character Race & Sub-Race
Muiri; Each-Uisge
Alternate Graphic
Tan Horse (228); Hue 2902 (Black/White Paint)
Character Description
Lachlan is a solidly built man of northern blood, with fair skin that burns easily under too much sun - and hair of the deepest black that almost startlingly contrasts in appearance. His eyes are a vivid blue, intelligent and wary beneath expressive if thick brows. Scars befitting a man that has seen much fighting littler chest and arms and belly. He stands about six feet in height or so, with broad shoulders and the lean muscle of a swordsman. He speaks with a rich Gaelic cant, his tone of voice somewhere in the rougher, deeper ends of a tenor. It is a fine singing voice, that said.
When unglamoured, Lachlan's true form is that of a thickly built stallion with something of a baroque build in his solid legs and thick neck, his muzzle square and ears lightly curved at the tips. His mane and tail are rich and full, and his coat is curious in that it is more of a tobiano pattern of white and black rather than a solid color. Seaweed has a curious penchant for tangling in his mane, and he smells frequently of sea salt and earthly things.
Shard Plot Line (Strengths & Weaknesses)
Being of obvious Muiri make and a creature of legend himself, Lachlan will fit in well with any of the Houses that align to the Courts - especially those with more of a Winter Court/Unseelie tilt to them. He is a warrior, through and through, and could serve well as a guard or the like once he's properly bridled, so to speak.
Special Role-play Ability
TBD at a later time
Previous World
11th Century Scotland
Backstory
For as long as any of those that called the lands surrounding Loch an Dherue could remember, there had been a legend - one that always began with travelers spotting the most beautiful of horses, wild and roaming the hillocks that surrounded the body of water. Always he seemed to come with a fog about him, an early morning mist that did not dissipate under the heat of day. Strangers to the land were often mystified - the locals knew better. They would warn the travelers of the Each-Uisge, the water horse; they would beg travelers take heed and never approach the beast, unless they had a fresh and still bleeding kill to offer him. So was the life he lived for as long as he could recall, watching the rise and fall of mortal men around his loch - ever untouched as it was by industry and civilization. He fed on the villagers when hunger would no longer be sated by pig and sheep and fowl. They turned a blind eye when strangers went amiss, only their livers left to float - the livers always tasted bitter on his tongue, so laden with iron as they were.
It was in his loch that he was finally captured. He had taken of the village - a young and stupid maiden, daughter of the local blacksmith, had trailed too close to his waters. She was delectable, but her father and brother were wrathful for her loss. She was to marry an important figure after all, to ensure the family their fame and fortune whilst she lived a life of giving a man twice her age babies. They sought revenge upon the Each-Uisge, taunted him with a fresh kill and waited. The last memory he has of his world, his place, is being speared twice through with heated barbs of iron through shoulder and haunch. He should be, by all right, dead. He is not, having surfaced in the still waters of Summer Isle looking all the role of a man half-drowned. He does not know who brought him here - or why. But time will tell.
