Screen Name:
Andy C.
Character you have created (include known alias or nicknames here as well):
William of Nottingham (Liam for short)
Race/Culture:
Human, Briton
Racial Traits:
Nothing special; he's just a regular human.
Character Class:
Paladin
Patron Deity:
Brigid, Celtic goddess of all things "elevated" both physically (highlands, hill-forts, etc) and mentally (poetry, wisdom, craftsmanship, healing, etc), as well as keeper of sacred flames and holy wells
Magic:
Protection
Speech Color and/or Font:
Palatino Linotype, Size 3
Character Alignment (Good/Evil/Neutral):
Good
Character Personality:
Liam has rarely ventured beyond Nottingham and the surrounding Sherwood Forest, and therefore knows little of the outside world. Raised as a peasant, he is still very uncultured and uneducated, but is a very fast learner. He is very trusting, to the point of being naive. Still, he shows a temper when he believes innocents are threatened, and refuses to let himself be intimidated. More than anything, however, he almost radiates compassion, and will always put others before himself.
Origin Info/Details (don't be blunt, be as thorough as possible):
Raised in a small village outside of Nottingham, Liam was brought up by his mother, his father having left before he was born. In the absence of a father figure, he instead looked up to the amazing stories of Robin Hood and his Merry Men, and his heart longed for that sort of adventure. As he grew, however, he learned that such things were beyond his reach, and following his mother's death, he settled into the life of a village blacksmith.
One day, shortly after his twentieth birthday, a messenger arrived in the village, looking for him. On that day, Liam received news that would forever change his life.
His father Godfrey, it seemed, had joined up into the armies of Camelot, wishing to help hold the kingdom together throughout the dark times. Sadly, despite his valor granting him knighthood, Godfrey was killed in Arthur's final battle with the wicked Mordred. With no King, Camelot has since fallen to ruin.
With his dying breath, Godfrey requested that his son be found, brought to Camelot and trained in the ways of a Knight, so that he may carry on the quest to unite England.
With no reason to stay in the village, Liam took up the offer, was given his father's sword and armor, and began the long trek towards Camelot, in the hopes that some shred of its former glory still remains.
Attributes:
Strength Level:
Peak Human (The guy spent most of his life working iron and steel, after all)
Speed/Reaction Timing Level:
Normal Human
Endurance at MAXIMUM Effort/Durability:
Peak Human
Agility:
Peak Human
Intelligence:
Above-Average (Liam has no official education, but he's a fast learner)
Fighting Skill:
Untrained (though he's still fairly capable in a brawl, Liam has only begun learning the art of the sword)
Resources:
Minimal (knight's son or not, he's a peasant)
Notable Equipment:
Liam carries his father's broadsword and shield, and wears his father's chain-mail armor (with a few plate pieces he has made for himself). Even though he has left his shop behind, Liam still carries some of his tools with him, in the hopes that he can put them to use when he reaches Camelot)
Weaknesses:
Aside from the relative frailty of being a human, Liam's primary weakness is his lack of knowledge to most of the world around him. He is still very naive, and very uncertain about himself.
Supporting Characters:
Sir Godfrey (deceased)- Liam's estranged father, a knight of Camelot, killed while fighting the armies of Mordred.
Mary (deceased)- Liam's mother, a peasant woman, died of cold in the winter
"Acorn" Sally- a tomboy-ish rogue who encounters Liam while journeying through Sherwood Forest
Describe using proper English grammar what you think you can bring to the RPG:
I'm experienced in several forum-based RPGs, both here and on other websites. I've got a decent sense of dramatic structure and storytelling, and this is a character I've been playing for a long time in D&D. Besides, even if my character's back-story is a little hackneyed, you've gotta have the "Luke Skywalker" kinda character in there somewhere to stand out from all the brooding anti-hero types.
How many times do you intend on posting a DAY IN the RPG:
At least once a day.
Do you know how to post pictures on the hype boards:
Sample Post (Minimum Four decent-sized paragraphs containing dialogue):
Sherwood. I've lived on its outskirts my entire life, yet I haven't ventured far into it since I was a child. My friends and I, we would go into the thickets and meadows, looking for arrows and things, any trace of where Robin Hood and his Merry Men may have stayed during their adventures. As I got older, it became just a forest, just some trees, just a place that led to other places where I wasn't going to go. But by Brigid's name, it was so magical in those days.
As I ride along the trail now, it's easy to see why these woods used to hold so much wonder for me. The beams of light seeping down through the brush, the wind rushing through the trees, the birds filling the air with their song. I can see why the great Robin of Locksley would choose this place to live. It is a perfect place to convene with nature, a perfect place to find some sort of peace...
"...and the perfect place to stage an ambush."
I didn't even notice the bandits until their arrows were already loosed.
Their aim is sloppy, and most of their arrows miss...except for two. One digs into my shoulder, the armor stopping it before it would have wounded me seriously. The other grazes my horse along its side; the wound is barely a scratch, but it startles the horse enough that it throws me off.
I hit the ground hard and start gasping for air, the wind knocked right out of me. As I struggle to my feet, I see the horse galloping away in terror, and the bandits closing in, daggers and swords drawn. They're filthy-looking men, no doubt inspired by the tactics of the Merry Men...just not the morals. I pull my father's sword from its sheath, and ready myself.
Just then, something whizzes past my head, from behind. One of the bandits suddenly lurches forward, an arrow in his chest.
"Who...?"
I turn and find a green-cloaked figure emerging from the brush, already nocking another arrow into the bow.
"Now the fight's a little more fair."
The voice...a woman? She pulls back her hood and confirms it, giving me a wily grin.
"Shall we?"
I has my own thing going on the Isle.
Ireland was least effected by the world till England invaded in the teen centuries and I'm doing pre-AD
