Post by TRISTAIN TARTH on Aug 26, 2017 8:29:46 GMT
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[attr="class","bioheader"]history. [attr="class,"bioentry"]There is nothing like the feeling of being a disappointment. For Tristain, he was his father's pride and joy, his legacy, and his supposed triumph. After many years of trying to have a baby with his bride -- they were blessed with the sickly and meek boy that could barely stand at a young age, much less take over the Tarth name. [break][break] Yet his father was hopeful for the future, spending what money he had on trips to Olds Town or mythical cures for the young boy who grew more ill each year. His hair slowly turned from a dark brown to a pitch white as the pigment left him much like his life, and eventually he was bed ridden. [break][break] That was until they were humbled by a visitor. [break][break] The happenings of that night are a memory long since forgotten, and something his father refused to tell. No matter, it was only the two of them in the end, as his mother suffered a life taking fever during his sleep inducing sickness. Such an event is enough to change a man, and his father fell far from his pedastool not long after. He grew cold and bitter, taking his hostilities out on the men loyal to him. [break][break] At the age of 17, strength had finally returned to Tristain, and he walked in on his father beating a servant with a horse switch. Blood was being flung from side to side, decorating the room with its dark crimson color. The young man of course, --yelled out. He called to his father, trying to bring him back to reality, and to relinquish his hatred from the already dead maid. [break][break] Tristain left that night, on a horse, and headed towards the riverlands. He spat on his father for dishonoring himself and refused to clean up the man's mess. In the end, his father turned on him, and injured his right eye very badly. This was enough for the young man to decide his own fate and he took it in his own hands. He abandoned his name. [break][break] Despite his age, there was little the young man could do for himself. He spent years in bed and weak, so he had no training and not concept of taking a man's life. After nearly starving to death in the woods, he was taken under the Brotherhood without Banners. [break][break] The leader was sharp witted and taught Tristain well -- who holds special talent in archery compared to normal swordplay. After noticing this, the leader actually gifted the younger man with a hand strewn bow from one of the finest fletchers in the seven kingdoms; a heirloom that used to belong to his father, and his father before that. Together, the Brotherhood has made many members in the last decade, and Tristain looks to them like the family he never had. They all worked hard to provide service to those that the Houses of Westeros abandoned, as true Power lies with the People. [attr="class","bioheader"]inventory. [attr="class,"bioentry"]Fury: Who in their right mind names a bow? Anyways... a well crafted longbow with reinforced limbs. It is generally very hard to slowly pull back, and requires strong back muscles to stay drawn. After a decade of training, Tristain still has a hard time pulling it back more than a dozen times in a row; but with the hard draw, each arrow pierces through the air at a remarkable speed, allowing it to bury tip first into the flesh of anything he sets his sight on. [break][break] Generic wood texture and color... pretty purple leather wrap however. [attr="class","uglylarge"]  | [attr="class","rightside"] [attr="class","rightsideafter"] [attr="class","bioline"]TWENTY SIX [attr="class","bioline"]MALE [attr="class","bioline"]HETEROSEXUAL [attr="class","bioline"]SIX FEET - TWO INCHES [attr="class","bioline"]ONE HUNDRED - FORTY FIVE POUNDS [attr="class","bioline"]HIGHBORN [attr="class","bioline"]FIRE EMBLEM, NILES/ZERO [attr="class","bioline"]NOVA [attr="class","rightsidebefore"] [attr="class","bioname"]TRISTAIN TARTH [attr="class","biolyrics"] Welcome to the end of eras, Ice has melted back to life, Done my time and served my sentence, Dress me up and watch me die, If it feels good, tastes good --It must be mine [attr="class","bioicon"]  |
[attr="class","uglycreds"]made by minnie of wicked wonderland
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