Shantak/HeptaVneefFerwai
V'neef Ferwai
Name: V'neef Ferwai
Aspect: Wood
Nature: Explorer
House: V'neef
Age: 16
Personality: Ferwai is a dedicated and focused young boy, whose curiosity sometimes gets the best of him.
Description: Ferwai is a strong, lithe teen who is a little bit taller than average. His hair is a shaggy ruffle of deep maroon, and his skin has a bronzed tone to it from spending time in the outdoors. Large, misty green eyes illuminate Ferwai's face and bear witness to both intelligence and curiosity. The augur is a focused and dedicated boy, believing strongly in doing things thoroughly and properly. This does not mean he's up tight though. Ferwai likes a good laugh from time to time, just like everyone else.
ATTRIBUTES
Strength 2, Dexterity 4, Stamina 2
Charisma 2, Manipulation 2, Appearance 2
Perception 4, Intelligence 2, Wits 2
VIRTUES
Compassion 3
Conviction 2
Temperance 2
Valor 3
ABILITIES
Aspect Abilities
Archery: 3
Medicine: 1
Performance: 2
Ride: 1
Survival: 3
Favored Abilities
Awareness: 3
Dodge: 3
Occult: 3 (Augury +1)
Other Abilities
Athletics 3
Linguistics: 2 (Old Realm, Forest-tongue)
Lore:2
Martial arts: 1
Melee: 3
Presence: 1
Socialize: 2
Stealth: 3 (Camouflage +1)
BACKGROUNDS
Backing (House V'neef): 3
Artifact: 2
Breeding: 1
Familiar: 2
Family: 2
CHARMS
Terrestrial Circle Sorcery
Elemental Concentration Trance
Spring Follows Winter
Flickering Candle Meditation
SPELLS
Emerald Countermagic
Sprouting Shackles of Doom
Flock of Separation
Commanding the Beasts
Willpower: 6
Essence: 3
Personal Essence: 10 Peripheral Essence: 28
COMBAT SUMMARY
Base Initiative: 6
Attack:
Punch (Speed 6, Accuracy 5, Damage 2B, Defense 5)
Hawthorn Song (Speed 6, Accuracy 9, Damage 4L [broadhead arrows], Rate 3, Range 250)
Raven's Longing (Speed 6, Accuracy 8, Damage 5L, Defense 8) [straight sword?]
Dodge Pool: 7 Soak: 1L/2B
Health Levels: -0/-1/-1/-2/-2/-4/Incapacitated
EXPERIENCE (since OOC post 2834)
General: 22
Specific: 1 (Performance), 1 (hunting-related), 2 (social), 2(combat)
SPENT XP
-
BACKGROUNDS IN DETAIL
Artifact:
The Hawthorn Song: This strange bow has been handed down to Ferwai from his Grandfather Kyopeto who in his turn was handed the Hawthorn Song in a dream. Her curved shape is sleek, and elegant, stylized leafs detail the grip. The bowstring seems to shift, it's color turning and twisting, irridecent and luminary. The Hawthorn Song is strung with the voice of the Raksha known only as as Lush by a rival at the Court of Jet. It was this rival who then gave the bow to V'neef Kyopeto in one of his dreams. Arrows shot by the Hawthorn Song are not affected by weather, be it rain, wind, sleet or snow. Her aim is always true as long as the archer is skilled enough to hit his target.
(Exceptional Long Bow: Accuracy +2, Max Strength 4, Rate 3, Range 250. No environmental penalties)
Familiar:
Lockrose is a strange little creature. He is a small and tigerlike, about the size of a tiny cat. Lockrose fur is a languid green, comfortable and soothing for the eye. A set of wings sprout from his shoulders. They are at least in relation to his own meassures, quite impressive. He also sports a mane of vivid, coppery feathers. Shiny intelligent eyes of amber keep the surroundings under careful surveillance. Lockrose can't speak, but he does comunicate through various purring and yawning sounds.
The V'neef House mansion Farwai grew up at is located in the far distant east, close to the Wyld. When the young augur had progressed far enough in his studies of bird divination, Farwai's Grandfather Kyopetp took him on a brief excursion in to the periphery of the Wyld to educate him in the dangers of this unstable part of Creation. It was there that Lockrose came swooping down from the grand trees and settled upon Farwai's shoulder. The weird creature took an instant liking to the boy. Grandfather Kyopeto said Lockrose probably was a minor forest spirit of some sort, but he was uncertain. Farwai didn't care much of the origins of his newfound pet. They have stayed loyal to eachother ever since.
Family:
Ferwai's Grandfather is none other than V'neef Kyopeto, an elderly Wood Aspect reknown for his wisdom and benevolence. He has been the boy's mentor from brith and up, since Ferwai's parents aren't Dragon blooded. They thought it best to leave him in the proper care, with someone who could show him the ropes properly. And show him the ropes he did...
BACKGROUND
He stands in the midst of them. Tall naked trees which had shed their leaves for winter. It is cold. Ferwai stands positioned in the Weighted Whisper stance, sword in hand. The young boy is extremely focused. He is like a honed razor, ready to cut. The first snow is about to fall. If he would have raised his eyes to the skies he would have seen the heavy leaden clouds. And then the snow begins to fall.
Ferwai lashes out with his blade of petrified wood. His brother had shaped and sharpened it for him. The young V'neef moves quickly, falling in and out of various forms from the Weighted Whisper stance.
Some time passes. A few minutes perhaps. Ferwai doesn't notice. He is completely dedicated to his demonstration of the Weighted Whisper. Then suddenly someone calls out. "That is enough!" The voice is an authority, strong but warm. Grandfather Kyopeto, who had been overseeing the trial, strides forth to Ferwai. A thin blanket of snow has spread itself over the surrounds. Everywhere, but within the circle Ferwai stands. "Good, my grandson. No snow managed to fall to the ground." The old sage looks Ferwai's blade. It is covered by snowflakes in various stages of melting. "You were quick enough to catch them all. And that, my grandson, implies that you have perfected the meassured and percise stance of the Weighted Whisper. Well done." The revered Wood aspect reaches out and lays a hand upon his progeny. "Now we can move on in our education. Do you see how everything builds up? How we add layer upon layer?" Ferwai nods enthusiastic but silent. "Good. This, my Ferwai, is called a bow."
* * *
V'neef Ferwai is running through the greenery. His face is painted with mud. A concealing and camouflaged hooded cloak beats out behind him, like the wings of some kind of ancient beast. In his hand he carries a bow. Legs bronzed by the sun kick up high into the air as he passes over fallen trunks and toppled rocks. Ferwai comes to a stop. He listens, eyes glaring in between the trees before takes off again. Without pause, Ferwai pitches himself at a great millenium oak and begins to climb. He crawls out on a thick branch, clutching to the brittle moss that grows there. If he were to fall he would tumble to his death. Ferwai stands up. He raises a hand, and with it a flock of sparrows raise from the surrounding trees. The augur-in-training lowers his arm and directs them towards a dense part of the forest before him. Beating their diminuative wings relentlessly, they charge forth through the air and into the tight-grown woods. Shortly afterwards, a deer crashes through from the same spot. Ferwai shuts his eyes and draws the bowstring. The grassbed is bloodstained and the animal collapses upon it, an arrow neatly piercing its throat.
Ferwai scans the vicinity untill he sees Kyopeto. Lockrose is sitting on his mentor's shoulder. They both nod at him in unison.
* * *
They both knew. Ferwai had noticed something in Kyopeto's mannerisms early on. It was something slightly sad but at the same time immensely proud. He couldn't figure him out, but shortly he began seeing it himself, as he managed his chores around the home. Ferwai would come across a murder of crows as they take flight into the skies as he was picking herbs across the river. Their bodies would form intricate configrations. He saw mockingbirds fly in elaborate patterns while practicing at the archery range. From his window, before he went to bed one night, he even saw an owl. They all spoke to him.
So Ferwai wasn't surprised when Grandfather Kyopeto came to him and told him that they must speak. "What is it, Grandfather?" he asked him. "Kyopeto merely shook his head back and forth, laid a hand on his shoulder and led him inside the meeting hall.
They were all there. His parents and siblings. The various scribes and advisors of his Father. The guards. The servants. Kyopeto told him what he already knew before them.
The old man had seen it in a vision. He had taught Ferwai as much as he could, for the moment being. Ferwai would be sent away, to another place of learning. They were sending him to the Heptagram.
Grandfather Kyopeto had sent some letters to a few aquantancies of his, and certain recomendations had been mentioned about V'neef Ferwai. The young teenager looked to his family. He saw how pleased and proud they were. He looked back to Kyopeto. The elderly sage produced a dagger, gently taking Ferwai's long maroon pony-tail in his hand, he cut his hair. "There, my grandson. I have taught you all I can, for now. And I have taught you well. Before you leave, I want you to have this." Kyopeto presents his gift; a slender and delicate bow of expert craftsmanship. The string is almost invisible, and seems to be tinged with every single color but the one you think it actually is. Ferwai recognized it. It was Grandfather Kyopeto's most treasured item, the Hawthorn Song. He was so humbled by the gift he didn't know what to say. His Grandfather spoke again. "Leave with our blessing." Ferwai falls to his knees. "I thank you Grandfather, for the Hawthorn Song and all that you have taught me. I will not dissapoint you." The young teenager rises, and with one last look to his family, he leaves the meeting hall.
He packs his bags without hesitation, saddles his horse, and sets off for the Heptagram with Lockrose trailing slightly behind him.
