Post by rogan on Dec 29, 2013 5:38:35 GMT -5
* Name- Rogan “Never-yield” Dondarrion
* Age- 31
* Gender- Male
* Species- Human
* Affiliation- Independent
* Home-world- Tatooine
* Appearance-
Rogan’s physique is performance orientated, geared towards endurance rather than strength or the aesthetic. His muscles are not overly large and are instead chiseled into definition. He has a lean figure that holds some well sculpted muscle, is slim for his height but has a taut strength which belies his gaunt frame. He doesn’t appear overtly powerful at first glance more just tall and limber, but his athletic muscles have been strengthened by experience and many hard learned lessons. Rogan has a strong jaw line and an un-creased brow with piercingly blue eyes. There is wisdom and a sadness there beyond his years. His jet black hair is habitually tousled and unkempt and is long enough to fall over his eyes. A life in the desert, moving from one place to another constantly has given him a disheveled appearance which has become engrained within his nature over the years. He has an open and honest, good natured countenance and these earnest looks have been useful in the past for gaining peoples trust. Rough strong hands are complemented with dextrous skilful fingers. Broad enough shoulders are flanked by long firm arm muscles and his toned chest leads to a faint line of washboard abs. He has the body of a man born and raised in the desert, hard, worn and tough as old leather.
Wearing a light armor weave made from wolf pelts and treated bone he appears at first glance to be a feral barbaric thing. In fact in sharp contrast to how he appears Rogan is quite civil and mild mannered. Life in the desert is a hard and simple existence. The endless dunes are never forgiving and as such supplies and materials are scant. Much of Rogan’s attire is nothing more than leather, fur and bone. He wields a vibro-halberd strapped to his back. A weapon he wields with a veteran’s deftness. A long horn made from bone is always about his person, a tool his people use to communicate with in the desert.
* Weapons- Rogan wields a vibro-halberd.
* Bio (short version)-
Rogan belonged to a simple people called the Nadir. Living in the deserts of the Tatooine they were a roaming folk that moved seasonally through the sandstorms. Stopping to trade at various points along the way, they were a drifting settlement of nomads essentially. Carving out a rough life for themselves amidst the hard wasteland, they survived by being peerless hunters. They dealt once a year with the Republic soldiers stationed at hub of Tatooine and with trade caravans traversing the Hutt owned tundra for supplies. Other than those sparse interactions they were a reclusive people, only ever half glimpsed moving through the thick fog of the desert. The Nadir were strong in magic and the physical arts, a powerfully gifted tribe. Their community acted like a pack, prestige and honour going to those strongest. The alpha male was always the one who could channel the most power. The pack leader chosen to light their people’s way using his or her strength.
Rogan had always been an exception, the only Nadir to be without the gift of magic. Instead he had an unparalleled fortitude, an unnatural resilience that had at first vexed his people. It was wrong, it was deviant, his kind were powerful elementalists who were strong in evocation. Rogan hadn’t a trace of either power in his blood. And so for the majority of his upbringing he had been shunned by all but his elder brother 'Sigmar'. Always last in the pecking order, last to receive food rights, last to receive supply choices. Rogan had forever been at the bottom of his communities regard. Some pitied his weakness in magic but all feared his abnormal toughness. Once he had been spotted stopping the charge of a great Krayt Dragon with his bare hands, a beast almost twice as large as a man. Though the runt of his people, nothing could fell him, he was the odd one; he was the “Never-yield”. It was only through his brother’s interventions that he wasn’t outcast. His people were an isolationist community, and very superstitious.
* Sample RP-
Of character, there had been a feral quality to my tribe. A roughness, an untamed barbarity that wouldn’t allow any notions of civility. The dunes of Tatooine are treacherous, they are hot and unforgiving, and they were our home. We were survivor’s first, hunters second and climbers last. Tough, dangerous and viscous when need be. But it had been offset with a surprising amount of reserve and restrained self awareness. It created a controlled and detached people struck through with moments of intense violence and animalistic brutality. Violent lives, ending violently. Noble Savages, one and all.
Yourself
Name- Tim
Age- 23
Years of (RP) experience- 7
* Age- 31
* Gender- Male
* Species- Human
* Affiliation- Independent
* Home-world- Tatooine
* Appearance-
Rogan’s physique is performance orientated, geared towards endurance rather than strength or the aesthetic. His muscles are not overly large and are instead chiseled into definition. He has a lean figure that holds some well sculpted muscle, is slim for his height but has a taut strength which belies his gaunt frame. He doesn’t appear overtly powerful at first glance more just tall and limber, but his athletic muscles have been strengthened by experience and many hard learned lessons. Rogan has a strong jaw line and an un-creased brow with piercingly blue eyes. There is wisdom and a sadness there beyond his years. His jet black hair is habitually tousled and unkempt and is long enough to fall over his eyes. A life in the desert, moving from one place to another constantly has given him a disheveled appearance which has become engrained within his nature over the years. He has an open and honest, good natured countenance and these earnest looks have been useful in the past for gaining peoples trust. Rough strong hands are complemented with dextrous skilful fingers. Broad enough shoulders are flanked by long firm arm muscles and his toned chest leads to a faint line of washboard abs. He has the body of a man born and raised in the desert, hard, worn and tough as old leather.
Wearing a light armor weave made from wolf pelts and treated bone he appears at first glance to be a feral barbaric thing. In fact in sharp contrast to how he appears Rogan is quite civil and mild mannered. Life in the desert is a hard and simple existence. The endless dunes are never forgiving and as such supplies and materials are scant. Much of Rogan’s attire is nothing more than leather, fur and bone. He wields a vibro-halberd strapped to his back. A weapon he wields with a veteran’s deftness. A long horn made from bone is always about his person, a tool his people use to communicate with in the desert.
* Weapons- Rogan wields a vibro-halberd.
* Bio (short version)-
Rogan belonged to a simple people called the Nadir. Living in the deserts of the Tatooine they were a roaming folk that moved seasonally through the sandstorms. Stopping to trade at various points along the way, they were a drifting settlement of nomads essentially. Carving out a rough life for themselves amidst the hard wasteland, they survived by being peerless hunters. They dealt once a year with the Republic soldiers stationed at hub of Tatooine and with trade caravans traversing the Hutt owned tundra for supplies. Other than those sparse interactions they were a reclusive people, only ever half glimpsed moving through the thick fog of the desert. The Nadir were strong in magic and the physical arts, a powerfully gifted tribe. Their community acted like a pack, prestige and honour going to those strongest. The alpha male was always the one who could channel the most power. The pack leader chosen to light their people’s way using his or her strength.
Rogan had always been an exception, the only Nadir to be without the gift of magic. Instead he had an unparalleled fortitude, an unnatural resilience that had at first vexed his people. It was wrong, it was deviant, his kind were powerful elementalists who were strong in evocation. Rogan hadn’t a trace of either power in his blood. And so for the majority of his upbringing he had been shunned by all but his elder brother 'Sigmar'. Always last in the pecking order, last to receive food rights, last to receive supply choices. Rogan had forever been at the bottom of his communities regard. Some pitied his weakness in magic but all feared his abnormal toughness. Once he had been spotted stopping the charge of a great Krayt Dragon with his bare hands, a beast almost twice as large as a man. Though the runt of his people, nothing could fell him, he was the odd one; he was the “Never-yield”. It was only through his brother’s interventions that he wasn’t outcast. His people were an isolationist community, and very superstitious.
* Sample RP-
Of character, there had been a feral quality to my tribe. A roughness, an untamed barbarity that wouldn’t allow any notions of civility. The dunes of Tatooine are treacherous, they are hot and unforgiving, and they were our home. We were survivor’s first, hunters second and climbers last. Tough, dangerous and viscous when need be. But it had been offset with a surprising amount of reserve and restrained self awareness. It created a controlled and detached people struck through with moments of intense violence and animalistic brutality. Violent lives, ending violently. Noble Savages, one and all.
Yourself
Name- Tim
Age- 23
Years of (RP) experience- 7
