RE: The Grand OC! [CONTEST EIGHT: BOREAL! SUBMISSIONS WELCOME!]
02-27-2014, 06:54 AM
Username: That one asshat
Name: Caille Caprice
Race: Tetraul
Gender: Male
Text Color: Taiga taiga, burning bright
Items/Abilities: Caille, like most Tetraul, is an excellent climber, has keen senses of smell and hearing, but poor eyesight. He's a travelling mage (druid, I suppose, if you want to be pedantic) who specialises in forests, but operates well enough in meadows, scrublands, and swamps. He prefers cooler climates, but thanks to Tiveden copes fine even in tropical or desert regions.
Caille's key power is to extract the spirit of a forest, drawing it into a form with which he can communicate. They'll manifest as mounds of earth in the shape of the forest's largest animal, bedecked with vegetation. These spirits will happily aid Caille, guiding him through it, commanding the beasts of the forest, and finding shelter and food. Their capabilties are tied, however, directly to the health of the forest. A spirit whose forest is being destroyed by clear-cutting or overhunting, or a spirit of a swamp with poisons being dumped into it, will be frail and sickly in turn.
Caille has the ingredients on hand to act as short-term painkillers for said spirits, but ultimately he'll seek to fix whatever's making the forests sick (which usually entails explaining the problem to whichever town hired him). Sometimes, whoever hired him doesn't want to change their destructive habits, and Caille's fine with that. He'll just take the spirit (in a form less golem-y and more spirit-y) and leave, effectively ripping the vital force from the woods and leaving it to die.
He's carried a few spirits around in this fashion, eventually finding a nice spot and putting them down somewhere climactically appropriate so they can regenerate. As of his abduction into a battle, Caille's only on-hand spirit is Tiveden (Tivvs for short), the spirit of the boreal forest he grew up in. Tiveden is not very useful in combat, never leaving Caille's clothes, but can maintain the temperature within said clothes to something that keeps the Tetraul comfortable.
Description: Tetraul are native to North (no relation to magnetic poles), a cold region characterised by a giant aurora-spewing planthydra that's right in its centre. Tetraul are roughly the shape and size of dwarves, but with bearlike faces and short, sharp horns. They have thick, coarse fur, fine and short on the body but dense and shaggy on the backs of their hands, their faces, and their feet (all the exposed bits). The fur on the snout is cream-coloured, and Caille's brow is marked with a thick, caked-on red paint in the shape of a V (the mark of a Tetraul magician).
Their build is rendered even lumpier by the many layers they wear, and Caille dresses heavier than most Tetraul. He wears a floppy-brimmed hat pinned on his horns, and a scarf which goes around him about twelve times. He keeps warm in assorted sweaters and bandoliers and bags on his belt and tops it off with a coat several sizes too big where the back is constantly dragging. The entire outfit is more pocket than outfit, and is at least 70% dirt and vegetation by weight. It smells heavily of loam, much like Caille himself.
Inside the most easily-accessible pockets are pinecones, other seeds from Caille's forest home, and little stoppered bottles and powders tied in envelopes made from leaves. These are medicines to be administered to forest spirits. In the less-accessible pockets and folds of the fabric, there's a whole bunch of moss, fungi, lichens, hardy grasses, and even a dozen-odd seedlings (spruce and pine, mostly). All the plant life is alive and healthy despite growing on a mobile surface.
Caille is friendly and open-minded, except when you stick him somewhere with no trees. It is beyond his mortal comprehension why anyone would voluntarily live in a city. On the few occasions he's been stuck in one, Tiveden tries to make him feel better by leaving plants growing in his wake. If nothing else, this usually earns him a quick ticket out of the city.
Biography: Caille is a travelling mage, which is an uncommon if respected profession in the lands around North. He enjoys discounted or free accommodation wherever he goes; he's renowned for destroying livelihoods of those who piss him off. It's not like he makes a habit of either, though - he's happy sleeping under the stars, and it takes a special kind of village to make him consider revoking their natural resources privileges.
He'd just finished a month-long stay in a nice, if struggling village in the sad and soggy middle of Sjaunja Marsh, negotiating with its spirit to accommodate a one Kolmarden Wood for the townsfolk (who deserved it more than Kolmarden's old neighbours). Caille and the villagers had just released Kolmarden into the replantings when the Tetraul was whisked away.
Name: Caille Caprice
Race: Tetraul
Gender: Male
Text Color: Taiga taiga, burning bright
Items/Abilities: Caille, like most Tetraul, is an excellent climber, has keen senses of smell and hearing, but poor eyesight. He's a travelling mage (druid, I suppose, if you want to be pedantic) who specialises in forests, but operates well enough in meadows, scrublands, and swamps. He prefers cooler climates, but thanks to Tiveden copes fine even in tropical or desert regions.
Caille's key power is to extract the spirit of a forest, drawing it into a form with which he can communicate. They'll manifest as mounds of earth in the shape of the forest's largest animal, bedecked with vegetation. These spirits will happily aid Caille, guiding him through it, commanding the beasts of the forest, and finding shelter and food. Their capabilties are tied, however, directly to the health of the forest. A spirit whose forest is being destroyed by clear-cutting or overhunting, or a spirit of a swamp with poisons being dumped into it, will be frail and sickly in turn.
Caille has the ingredients on hand to act as short-term painkillers for said spirits, but ultimately he'll seek to fix whatever's making the forests sick (which usually entails explaining the problem to whichever town hired him). Sometimes, whoever hired him doesn't want to change their destructive habits, and Caille's fine with that. He'll just take the spirit (in a form less golem-y and more spirit-y) and leave, effectively ripping the vital force from the woods and leaving it to die.
He's carried a few spirits around in this fashion, eventually finding a nice spot and putting them down somewhere climactically appropriate so they can regenerate. As of his abduction into a battle, Caille's only on-hand spirit is Tiveden (Tivvs for short), the spirit of the boreal forest he grew up in. Tiveden is not very useful in combat, never leaving Caille's clothes, but can maintain the temperature within said clothes to something that keeps the Tetraul comfortable.
Description: Tetraul are native to North (no relation to magnetic poles), a cold region characterised by a giant aurora-spewing planthydra that's right in its centre. Tetraul are roughly the shape and size of dwarves, but with bearlike faces and short, sharp horns. They have thick, coarse fur, fine and short on the body but dense and shaggy on the backs of their hands, their faces, and their feet (all the exposed bits). The fur on the snout is cream-coloured, and Caille's brow is marked with a thick, caked-on red paint in the shape of a V (the mark of a Tetraul magician).
Their build is rendered even lumpier by the many layers they wear, and Caille dresses heavier than most Tetraul. He wears a floppy-brimmed hat pinned on his horns, and a scarf which goes around him about twelve times. He keeps warm in assorted sweaters and bandoliers and bags on his belt and tops it off with a coat several sizes too big where the back is constantly dragging. The entire outfit is more pocket than outfit, and is at least 70% dirt and vegetation by weight. It smells heavily of loam, much like Caille himself.
Inside the most easily-accessible pockets are pinecones, other seeds from Caille's forest home, and little stoppered bottles and powders tied in envelopes made from leaves. These are medicines to be administered to forest spirits. In the less-accessible pockets and folds of the fabric, there's a whole bunch of moss, fungi, lichens, hardy grasses, and even a dozen-odd seedlings (spruce and pine, mostly). All the plant life is alive and healthy despite growing on a mobile surface.
Caille is friendly and open-minded, except when you stick him somewhere with no trees. It is beyond his mortal comprehension why anyone would voluntarily live in a city. On the few occasions he's been stuck in one, Tiveden tries to make him feel better by leaving plants growing in his wake. If nothing else, this usually earns him a quick ticket out of the city.
Biography: Caille is a travelling mage, which is an uncommon if respected profession in the lands around North. He enjoys discounted or free accommodation wherever he goes; he's renowned for destroying livelihoods of those who piss him off. It's not like he makes a habit of either, though - he's happy sleeping under the stars, and it takes a special kind of village to make him consider revoking their natural resources privileges.
He'd just finished a month-long stay in a nice, if struggling village in the sad and soggy middle of Sjaunja Marsh, negotiating with its spirit to accommodate a one Kolmarden Wood for the townsfolk (who deserved it more than Kolmarden's old neighbours). Caille and the villagers had just released Kolmarden into the replantings when the Tetraul was whisked away.
peace to the unsung peace to the martyrs | i'm johnny rotten appleseed
clouds is shaky love | broke as hell but i got a bunch of ringtones
eyes blood red bruise aubergine | Sue took something now Sue doesn't sleep | saint average, day in the life of
woke up in the noon smelling doom and death | out the house, great outdoors
staying warm in arctic blizzard | that's my battle 'til I get inanimate | still up in the same clothes living like a gameshow
clouds is shaky love | broke as hell but i got a bunch of ringtones
eyes blood red bruise aubergine | Sue took something now Sue doesn't sleep | saint average, day in the life of
woke up in the noon smelling doom and death | out the house, great outdoors
staying warm in arctic blizzard | that's my battle 'til I get inanimate | still up in the same clothes living like a gameshow