Difference between revisions of "FornClakes/Artois Swifteye"

Revision as of 00:35, 6 April 2010

Concept

Circuit rider of the Marukan Alliance, always suffered from wanderlust and a love of a good joke.

History

“Now, when my hand is coming, move out the bloody way, you can do that at least, can’t you?”

I just shrugged, and even that sent shock waves up my spine and through me muscles, tenderised well from this morning’s beatings. Sorry, this morning’s training. I generally get the pair mixed up, the line between learning and ceremoniously kicking me arse, blurred. That ain’t going to be the only thing blurred, next will be me vision. Keep watching, this ain’t going to be pretty.

SMACK! Yep, told you so, that there broke me nose. It never did set properly, if you’re interested. That’s me; red hair reaching me ears, enchanting hazel eyes, slightly unfocused at this point I’ll admit, but none the less enchanting and a powerful stature. Well, broad shouldered, and a bit of a gut I’ll admit, but I like a drink now and again. Well-trimmed red goatee, slightly redder, due to the flowing blood, huddled on me arse as, after breaking me nose, he swept me legs. That really jarred me spine, it took me a week before I could walk properly.

Sorry, where are me manners, must of bled out of me when old Sifu Fucknuts smashed me normally pretty face in. Artois’ the name, Artois Swifteye, but I don’t really expect you to remember that, now do I? Don’t worry ‘bout it, not many folks generally do. In fact this whole story will soon get a lot friggin’ weirder by the end and details may become slightly foggy, but as long as you don’t interrupt, we’ll be fine.

Now, we’ll start from where we just left, shall we? Hell, it just got interesting, so fuck it, why not? Sifu Fucknuts, as I call him, is one hard bastard. I mean this guy hunts friggin’ Demons for a living and has killed plenty of Solars in his early days, although he don’t like talking ‘bout that, so best don’t mention it. He’s also a protector of Creation, master of several secret-fighting styles and all round badass! Well, to be more precise, Orin Redjac, one of the Sidereal Exalted, Chosen of Mars, the Maiden of Battles, teacher to meself, Artois Swifteye, Swifty to me friends, Sidereal Exalted, Chosen of the very lovely Mercury, may she always shine down upon me pretty little noggin. She’s the Maiden of Journeys, by the way.

Don’t nod in that way, I know you ain’t ever heard of us, I can tell. If you had, well, let us surmise that we wouldn’t be having this conversation. Anyway, Sifu Redjac has been granted the honour of instructing me in the ways of Fate, Heaven, the whole caboodle. It’s friggin’ hard, I’m tellin’ you now. He’s one mean bastard, as previously mentioned, but a friggin’ good teacher. Currently, where you entered, he was trying to teach me Martial Arts 101, but I ain’t got a friggin’ idea. My style generally involves dirty tricks, usually with a multitude of foreign objects and something to throw. Don’t get me wrong, I love a good punch up, but I ain’t stupid.

Anyways, at this juncture, I had been training for nearly a year and, I have to admit it, appalling when it came to the Arts, as they’re known. I could survive in the wild, ride a horse while standing on it’s back and, as you’ve witnessed, take one hell of a beating. But stylised fighting? I just can’t grasp it.

“Maidens help me,” Redjac proclaimed, “what’s wrong with you boy?” I slowly stood, holding me nose, crimson dyeing me robes. “Sorry, master, but you were friggin’ fast.” I know, bad excuse, but he was. This fucker was faster than lightning, his palm coming from nowhere. Its destiny? MY FRIGGIN’ NOSE! “I’m fast? What type of an excuse is that? I know I’m fast, but I’m trying to make you fast. I know you’ve got it in you, so don’t try hiding it. I’ve seen you in action Swifty. Unique style by the way, very articulate.” “I’m glad you think so highly of me, master.” Ok, that’s slightly wrong. What actually came out was something mumbled because, although Chosen by Mercury, I hadn’t quite mastered the art of Breathing Through Broken Nose Technique. Give me time though, and I’ll master it, I’m sure.

I’ll remember that day, for it was friggin’ warm in our training grounds of the Marukani plains, and the Sun beat down upon us, unrelenting. For several hours that day, Sifu and I had gone over many things, and I was reaching the end of my training. We carried on for a while until Luna was high in the night sky, and began making our way back to Mishaka, where we were staying. It was about 2 miles from where we trained, an open glade, covered by thick trees, as well as certain incantations to shield from passing eyes.

I love the open plains and rolling hills of the Marukani plains. I was born there, you know, born on a ranch and raised among horses. I still remember the very first time I rode, 3 years young I was. He was a powerful friggin’ beast, but well disciplined. Surprisingly, I took to it quite quickly. As I grew and had many adventures (I’ll tell you ‘bout ‘em one day), I enjoyed the escapism of riding over the hills and plains, relished the wind in me hair. I enjoyed it so much, and was such an accomplished rider (again, another story), that I was granted the position of Circuit Rider. Me Ma and Pa were very proud, they held a massive gathering in the town for me and the following day, I left for Celeren, the capital, to receive me training and orders. They both stood at the gates of our home, waving as I rode off, both beaming, smiles splitting their faces. That would be the last time I saw ‘em both.

The training I had was pretty simple and basic, the Circuit Riders given quite a bit of leeway, which was great. I never really abused me position, but I would have a habit of stopping for a drink and a tale. Nevertheless, I always got the job done; I delivered the mail, upheld the law and done me duty proud, sending letters back to me folks. I never got the time to visit them, as I was based in the southern plains, away from me folks ranch in the north. Yeah, that’s right. I had to operate too friggin’ close to the Shadowland. It scared the life out of me, draining me dry whenever I passed nearby.

Anyway, one day I was riding free across the plains, delivering a fairly important package from a ranch town, the name of which eludes me now, to Puyo, a larger town on the southeast borders of the Alliance. Heaven knows what was in the package; it was an emergency delivery from a wealthy rancher to another wealthy rancher in Puyo. Looking back, I find it quite ironic actually, for Heaven did know what was in the package, in fact, they set it up since it was tied in to my Exaltation.

I rode with great haste across the open grass, avoiding any taverns, for I had a feeling, an inkling, that this was very important, so it became a priority. In all honesty, I had a bad, friggin’ feeling about the parcel, something tuggin’ at me spine saying, “This is going to get you killed, or worse.”

Ever had those feelings? I suffered from them a lot as a kid and always listened to them, instincts honed from years of dedicated training of knowing when to get out of the way. Except, of course, when its Sifu Fucknut’s fist; I’m still working on that.

So, there I was, riding with haste across the grassland, open view all around, a nice breeze blowing through me hair, when over the next hill, trouble was happening. Yeah, this is it, me Exaltation. As I rode over the hill, I happen to cross a bit of a scuffle ensuing. There are friggin’ loads of armoured individuals, well 6 to be exact, but their all wielding big, friggin’ weapons, riding horse back and they’ve surrounded a single, young woman. Quite a looker, as it goes, on a mighty black stallion, God-blooded if a hazard a guess, the horse, not the woman. No, she was something else entirely. Deeply tanned, dark brown eyes, her hair long, straight and black, which she kept in a long, thin braid down her back. She was wearing canvas riding clothes and a buff jacket, a bit like mine. In fact, as I studied her more, I began to recognise her. Rhianna, another Circuit Rider, something special, if you listened to the rumours. She was facing her attackers, sword drawn.

As I watched, something strange came over me, as I began to see thin, yellow lines connecting between me, her and the Dragon-Bloods (the Jade weapons gave it away, as did their look). As I watched, I visualised what was going to happen next, as the lines showed me, before anyone moved. As I watched, I began to pull on various lines, and found meself ever so gently, changing the outcome of events. It was great, especially when one horse bolted, taking another for a ride. In the end, Rhianna managed to escape, the Dragon-Bloods all out of action, but not dead, I’m glad to say. Unnecessary deaths aren’t needed, in me point of view.

“Well done boy, you’ve just been chosen.” Yeah, you guessed it, Redjac. He apparently watched the whole thing, and was fairly impressed with the subtlety of me actions. He then took me away, explaining as he did of Heaven, Exalted, First Age and, oh yeah, a healthy respect for pain.

We were walking back, the chilly breeze perfect after the sweltering heat of the day, when we were ambushed. I say ambushed, we actually smelt them half a mile away, but Sifu believed the extra training would be good, so we carried on regardless. As we walked, I picked up a long, broken branch, as I like being prepared. Redjac just glanced at me, slightly shaking his head, which I ignored. We approached their hiding place, a copse of thin trees when, in all their amateur glory, they jumped us, all 10 of ‘em.

The leader, and I say that their was one, since he was the mouth, looked us up and down. “Your goods, gentlemen, or we’ll run you through!” You know, I was impressed, and told him so. “Hang on their son, no need for trouble. You know, I like you, you’ve got potential. You can look straight for one thing and can speak all those long words. How’s ‘bout you join me gang? It pays well, and you get all the pain you want, for free” I could feel Redjac roll his eyes, but didn’t care. This is my way of fighting, and I wished to enlighten others with me, perfectly placed, points of view.

Looking confused actually suited him, which is the entire opening I needed. Swinging the branch up, straight and true, it connected with his groin, doubling him over, before me knee collided with his chin, sending him backwards, dislodging a couple of teeth in a spray of blood. Another bandit, standing aghast at the sudden turn of events, fell to the floor, choking, as with precise accuracy, I threw the branch straight and true, the end impacting with his throat. “Got some’in’ stuck in you throat, son?” I said, chuckling as I moved on to a pair, drawing their knives as I approached. “Come on friends, can’t we talk ‘bout this?” Glancing at each other, I could only smile at their gullibility, a well-placed boot in the kneecap of one made him stagger back, limping slightly, a quick series of blows ranged at the other’s groin, throat and chin sent him crashing to the floor. The first staggered back towards me, wildly swinging his arms, his knife dropped. Dodging the blows, I saw me opening, an explosive head butt, propelled from the earth itself, collided with his nose, blood flowing, his body hitting the dirt, unconscious.

As I turned for the others, they were already down, Redjac no doubt. But when I saw the old bastard, he was being held from behind, a knife at his throat, the last bandit shaking, his eyes wild, looking at me. “Don’t come any closer, or your Pa’s a dead man!” As he said this, his knife slipped, nicking Redjac’s throat, a tiny bit of blood running down his neck.

I looked at Redjac, composed despite the situation, and I knew this was a test, the old bastard purposely getting caught to read me reaction. Right, I thought, here goes. “Thank the Dragons for that,” I said, “Do you have any idea how long I’ve been wanting to get rid of this old bastard? Every day he beats on me, calling it training. TRAINING, for fuck’s sake!”

The bandit was totally confused, glancing from me to his captive, Redjac still tranquil. I had to get his attention again, and I knew how to do it. “I tell you what friend, I’ll turn me back, like so,” turning me back slightly, looking over me shoulder, I continued, “and you slit his throat. I’ll pay you well for it, what d’ya say?” In that small phase, the little second between me turning and him thinking of the deal, his hand dropped ever so slightly, the pressure on Redjac loosening. All the opening I required. As fast as lightning, for a big man anyway, I carried my momentum round, into a full spin, me right arm carrying outwards. In me hand I held me sling, sparkling slightly under the moonlight, subtle yet effective, like me. Releasing me grip slightly, the sling loosing the stone inside, already prepared in the feint of turning me back, speeding onwards, knowing its path.

The bandit’s head snapped back, a small hole penetrating his skull, as he slumped to the floor, dead. Redjac never took his eyes off me throughout the little exchange. “Well done,” he said, “but were all the theatrics really necessary?” “You know me, Master. Its in me nature, I suppose.” “And what made you think he wouldn’t just slit my neck?” “Because I’m that damn good, Master.” I said, smiling, giving him a sly wink. “Anyway, I wouldn’t let anything happen to you, Master, who could possibly kick me about with such eloquence?” He simply smirked, and we carried on through to Mishaka, leaving the unconscious to their wounds. “As I’ve already said, unique style, by the way.”

Description & Role Playing

Swifty, as he is also known, is a jester, always sharing a private joke with those he knows, seeing the funny side to every situation. His superiors, especially those who don’t know him as well, look down on him, seeing him as a bit of a good-for-nothing, keeping him at arm’s length, just in case he screws up. This is something he prefers, and although the bravado, Swifty has a fast wit and calculating mind, remembering intricate details, his memory for detail frightening. Those who know him well, his Sifu and close companions, know this and, although the act, when given assignments, Swifty is very articulate and precise in his actions, recalling every detail perfectly before acting. Always clear-headed, Artois never rushes into a situation, instead sizing it up with witty banter, a way to calm his nerves.

Artois Swifteye stands 5’11, and is broad shouldered, strong in the arm, but with a bit of a gut, not that much, just snug around the mid-rift of his buff jacket. He has red hair, reaching his ears (think Obi-Wan Kanobi from Episodes 1&2), as well as a matching goatee, neatly trimmed, a likable smile and hazel eyes, tiny flecks of yellow permeating through them, like a star-filled night. He likes to wink at the end of every joke, as a gesture of good faith and light-heartedness.

Swifty can generally be found wearing browns and greens of dark hues, a long buff jacket, well used but sturdy, covers his clothes and is usually undone, allowing it to flow in the breeze, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his meaty arms covered in red hair. Hidden on him are a couple of wooden batons, weighted for throwing and good in a fist fight, as well as his Starmetal Sling of Deadly Prowess, Deadpan, with a pocket full of stones.

Artois talks in a country sought of way, cutting short words and changing them to suit his tone. For an example, my>me; ‘Sorry, where are me manners, must of bled out of me when old Sifu Fucknuts smashed me normally pretty face in.’

Statistics

Name: Artois Swifteye; Swifty

Concept: Wandering joker

Nature: Jester

Caste: Sidereal Chosen of Journeys, Mercury

Anima: Brilliant yellow glow

Attributes: Strength 3, Dexterity 3, Stamina 3, Charisma 3, Manipulation 2, Appearance 2, Perception 4, Intelligence 3, Wits 4

Virtues: Compassion 3, Conviction 2, Temperance 3, Valor 2

Abilities: Athletics 2, Awareness 4, Brawl 3, Bureaucracy 2, Craft (Fate) 1,Dodge 2, Endurance 4, Linguistics (Native; Riverspeak; Old Realm, Skytongue, Forest-tongue) 3, Lore 3, Martial Arts 2, Occult 2, Performance 3, Presence 3, Ride 4, Socialize 2, Stealth 1, Survival 2, Thrown 4

Backgrounds: Acquaintances 2, Allies 3, Artifact 1, Backing (Gold Faction) 2, Familiar 2, Salary 2, Sifu 4

Charms

• Endurance: Ox-Body Technique, Unswerving Juggernaut Principle

• Ride: Ordained Bridle of Mercury

• Thrown: Willful Weapon Method, Life Gets Worse Approach

• Survival: Becoming the Wilderness

• Dodge: Absence

• Linguistics: Favourable Inflection Procedure

• Performance: Compassionate Essence Replenishment

• Awareness: Wise Choice, Prior Warning

• Presence: Presence in Absence Technique

Combat Statistics

Base Initiative: 7

Dodge Pool: 8

Soak: 4L/7B (Exceptional Buff Jacket, 3L/4B, 1 Fatigue)

Willpower: 6

Health Levels: -0/-0/-1/-1/-2/-2/-4/Incap

Essence: 2

Personal Essence: 10

Peripheral Essence: 28(25)

Committed: 3

Attacks

Fist (using Brawl Ability): Speed 7, Accuracy 7, Damage 3B, Parry 8, Rate 5

Kick (using Brawl Ability): Speed 4, Accuracy 7, Damage 6B, Parry 3, Rate 3

Starmetal Sling (Deadpan): Accuracy 9, Damage 9L, Rate 2, Range 150

Baton, Thrown: Accuracy 7, Damage 6B, Rate 2, Range 10

Baton, Melee (using Thrown Ability): Speed 11, Accuracy 8, Damage 9B, Parry 7, Rate 2

Other Notes

Anima Banner: A light, yellow halo adorning Swifty’s head, until it expands down his body, a brilliant, nondescript yellow aura, with him in the middle, smiling.

Virtue Flaw: The Great Curse doesn’t effect Sidereals as individuals, but as a whole, as they suffer from wicked pride, unable to admit their mistakes and unwilling to concede that there maybe something they have overlooked. With Swifty, this takes the form in his witty banter, as he contradicts others by jesting with them. (Author’s Note: Even though the Sidereals are unique in their Curse, I wanted to still make Swifty individual in how he suffers from it. Please, I would love to hear your comments below).

Quote: (One among many) “Yeah, I’ll admit that was a fine jest there, son, but you obviously ain’t yet heard the one about the Dragon-Blood monk and the Maiden of Endings. How’s this sound, you fill me mug, and I’ll tell you ‘bout it?” *Wink*

Backgrounds

Acquaintances (**): Mainly around the various ranch towns and taverns through the Marukan Alliance (“Gotta make sure the barkeep knows me order, don’t I?”)

Allies (***): Swifty, through his travelling, has made several friends. Hiparkes, the Horse-lord of the Marukan Alliance (“That is one arse-whupping donkey!”), is his closest, gifting to him his Familiar after helping with a request.

Artifact (*): A Starmetal Sling of Deadly Prowess (Night Caste Book, pg 79) that he has named ‘Deadpan’, at the ire of his Sifu. His Sifu gifted it to him when his training was almost finished, saying as he passed it, “Swifty, you’re going to need all the help you can get now, boy.” It costs 3 motes to attune and has the following statistics (from Exalted: Player’s Guide): Accuracy +2, Damage +4L, Rate 2, Range 150 (Note: This is the basic stats. Add +2 to Damage for a correctly attuned character.)

Backing (**): Swifty is part of the Gold Faction, like his Sifu, but in truth this is so he “ain’t stuck in the Realm.” He acts as a messenger between various groups, and is very good at his role.

Familiar (***): Skylark, a God-Blood offspring of Hiparkes. Swifty is very protective of Skylark (“Go on son, be upsetting me horse again with your offensive presence, and I’ll be upsetting your face with me offensive fist.”), seeing him as a kindred spirit and soul mate, the pair unbreakable.

Salary (**): A basic salary for a member of the Gold Faction, from the “higher powers, may they forever bless me pockets.”

Sifu (****): Orin Redjac, a Chosen of Mars, the Maiden of Battles. Although Redjac is constantly berating Artois, he respects his abilities and his methods, but “wishes he’d pay more attention with his Martial studies.”

Colleges: The Gull (***), The Messenger (**), The Crow (**)

Craft: Swifty, like most Sidereals, has a basic understanding of the workings of Fate, but hasn’t tried improving it that much.

Linguistics: Swifty’s native language is Riverspeak. Since becoming a Sidereal, and journeyed around, he has picked up Skytongue and Forest-tongue. He was taught Old Realm from his Sifu.

Artois was made as a starting Sidereal character and uses Power Combat rules from Exalted: Player’s Guide. As a Sidereal, he had 18 Bonus Points, spent by the following: Thrown 1>4 (3pts), Brawl 1>3 (2pts), Ride 3>4 (1pt), Performance 2>3 (1pt), Awareness 2>4 (2pts), Socialize 1>2 (1pt), Sifu 3>4 (2pts), Familiar 2>3 (1pt), Compassion 2>3 (3pts).

Extra Experience

Artois was created as a starting character, but those who think that he is too basic, here is my own interpretation on where extra experience would be spent:

Essence: 2>3 (16xp)

Abilities: Presence 3>4 (5xp), Brawl 3>4 (5xp), Thrown 4>5 (7xp)

Charms: Essence Thorn Practice (Thrown, 9xp), Spirit-Shape Companion (Ride, 9xp), Yellow Path (Ride, 9xp), Forward-Thinking Technique (Endurance, 9xp), Impose Nature (Presence, 9xp), Expected Pain (Awareness, 9xp), Unobstructed Blow (Brawl, 9xp), Tolerant Strife (Brawl, 9xp)

Total experience cost is 100 xp.

Comments

Thanks for reading through another long character, I thoroughly enjoyed making him and I hope you enjoyed reading him. ~ FornClakes

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