Post by Murtagh on Feb 19, 2007 20:09:04 GMT -5
xName:
Murtagh
Age:
17, although he will be turning 18 very shortly
Gender:
Male
Appearance:
Murtagh has a serious face, with fierce dark eyes that hold fathoms of his past secrets. His dark brown, almost black hair reaches just below his ears, and ever since he left the rule of Galbatorix, he hasn’t bothered to comb it. On his back, is a long, knotted white scar that stretches from his right shoulder to his left hip, a tribute to a horrible agony that he experienced as a young child.
Murtagh is tall, standing at around five-foot-eleven, and is dressed richly, with dark pants and a leather vest that provides a small amount of protection against foes. A long, hand-and-a-half sword is always close at hand, and a yew bow, which is his weapon of choice, is slung across his back, along with a matching quiver of arrows. He has thick leather boots, which protect his feet from most surfaces and weather. The hilt of a dagger, with black and silver fittings protrudes from his right boot, and is usually only used for various hunting activities, or rarely, as a weapon of last resort.
RP Example:
A dark force was moving within the forest. Even the birds, which were usually chirping merrily at this time of day, were silent. The only thing that could be heard was the steady clopping of a horse’s hooves on the soft earth, but even that was muffled. A zephyr bent the long blades of grass that grew in the fields, and sent the feathery seeds of a dandelion into the air, spinning up down and around.
The grey stallion’s eyes grew wide as the scent of death reached its nostrils, and he stopped abruptly, snorting with fear. His rider, a dark haired young man, by the name of Murtagh, looked concerned and dismounted from the saddle. Still holding his horse’s reins, he bent down and examined the trail of footprints that he had been following for the past few days.
His dark eyes narrowed, and he attempted to lead his horse onward on foot. The stallion stubbornly refused, and Murtagh gave up. He backtracked along the trail and tied the horse to a tree, and continued the pursuit on foot, bow in hand.
Under normal circumstances he wouldn’t have abandoned Tornac, his grey warhorse that had been given to him when he was just a foal. But these weren’t normal circumstances, and based upon the recentness of the prints, the Ra’zac couldn’t be far off.
A sudden screech rent the air, and Murtagh stopped, listening intently for anything else. He heard nothing, but proceeded with more caution, and at a slower pace, so as not to alert his enemies of his presence too early. A small clearing in the forest entered his circle of vision, and from his position, he could see various dark shapes moving within it.
A small grin played across his lips. After days of searching for the Ra’zac, who had been his enemies ever since he first fled the Empire and Galbatorix’s dementia, he had finally found them. He advanced slowly, and reaching back to the quiver of arrows that was slung across his back, he pulled one out and silently strung his bow.
He stood with his back against a large oak tree, which hid most of his person, and listened to the conversation that was taking place in the clearing, between the one of the Ra’zac and a groggy-looking brown haired boy, who was tied with his hands behind his back, that appeared to be only a few years younger than he was himself. By straining his ears to hear the soft voice of the Ra’zac, that seemed to glide smoothly through the air, he managed to catch a few words of their conversation.
“…dragon…cooperative…threatened…kill you…” said the Ra’zac softly. The boy muttered something indecipherable, and the Ra’zac laughed. Murtagh sucked in his breath, A Rider! A sudden clanking of chains caught Murtagh’s attention, and he watched in growing horror as a huge, sapphire blue dragon was shackled, and muzzled by the second Ra’zac.
His jaw clenched, and he listened again to the Ra’zac, who was now pointing at an old man that Murtagh had only just noticed was there. “…much grief…kill him…” He tore his gaze away from the goings on in the clearing, and stared down at the ground, thinking frantically while trying to decide what he should do. As if to help him in his decision, he glanced back to the Ra’zac, one of whom was wielding a dagger before the neck of the old man. The other, however, sniffed the air and looked troubled.
Murtagh cursed under his breath and swiftly fitted an arrow to his bow. Taking aim, he let it fly and watched it zoom towards the Ra’zac with the knife before letting another arrow loose.
Rank:
Hero, son of Morzan
Country:
The Empire
Personality:
Murtagh has a complex personality, being extremely intelligent and ambitious, and yet logical and realistic. He has a thinly veiled distaste for the Varden, asserting that although the king is mad, the system of government is itself sound, and therefore feels that the radical politics of the Varden is flawed.
Accustomed to being in danger from the day he was born, Murtagh is constantly on edge, wary of strangers and even friends and reluctant to trust anyone. He doesn’t take any chances and says, “You must be willing to protect yourself and what you cherish, no matter what the cost”.
Murtagh is cool and ruthless, with a very high level of emotional maturity, with Murtagh staying calm and controlled even in the most trying circumstances, although he can lose his temper when people act childish. He is intensely private and strong willed and keeps his mind fiercely protected at all times.
However, he is also a loyal comrade and, despite his hardness, a very compassionate person. He also has an amazing inner strength, that enables him to survive the countless hardships he faces in his life.
History:
Murtagh’s parents met in a small town while Morzan was on business for Galbatorix. Morzan showed Selena (his mother) some small kindness to gain her trust, and when he left the town, she followed him. They traveled together for a time, and Selena fell in love with Morzan, who gleefully used it to his own advantage. He used her as his own personal messenger between himself and the other Riders, in addition to Galbatorix. Time passed in that manner, until Selena became pregnant.
Morzan managed to keep it a secret from everyone but Galbatorix, who knew all of the Riders’ thoughts and secrets. But for some reason, he never revealed it. In due time, Murtagh was born and given to a wet nurse so that Selena could return to Morzan’s side, although she had no choice in the matter. She and her son were kept apart, except for once every few months, when Morzan allowed them to see each other.
Morzan was eventually called away by Galbatorix to hunt for Saphira’s egg, which had been stolen by Brom the Rider. Not long after, Selena disappeared. Where to, nobody knows, for although the king sent soldiers to look for her, her trail couldn’t be found, and eventually, Galbatorix gave up.
Morzan was killed when he faced Brom in Gil’ead in a fight for the dragon egg, but before word reached the king of his faithful servant’s death, Selena returned. She was sick, and very weak, and died within a fortnight.
Murtagh was transferred to Urû'baen by the king, who arranged to have him brought up, but other than that, he was left alone. When he turned thirteen, a teacher by the name of Tornac, came to him, and taught him swordplay. Throughout years of training, Murtagh eventually became a talented swordsman, and is now still good friends with the man. Tornac recently gave Murtagh a young grey colt, whose name has not yet been chosen for him.
[At this point in his life, Tornac hasn't died yet]
Codeword:
Zar'roc
Murtagh
Age:
17, although he will be turning 18 very shortly
Gender:
Male
Appearance:
Murtagh has a serious face, with fierce dark eyes that hold fathoms of his past secrets. His dark brown, almost black hair reaches just below his ears, and ever since he left the rule of Galbatorix, he hasn’t bothered to comb it. On his back, is a long, knotted white scar that stretches from his right shoulder to his left hip, a tribute to a horrible agony that he experienced as a young child.
Murtagh is tall, standing at around five-foot-eleven, and is dressed richly, with dark pants and a leather vest that provides a small amount of protection against foes. A long, hand-and-a-half sword is always close at hand, and a yew bow, which is his weapon of choice, is slung across his back, along with a matching quiver of arrows. He has thick leather boots, which protect his feet from most surfaces and weather. The hilt of a dagger, with black and silver fittings protrudes from his right boot, and is usually only used for various hunting activities, or rarely, as a weapon of last resort.
RP Example:
A dark force was moving within the forest. Even the birds, which were usually chirping merrily at this time of day, were silent. The only thing that could be heard was the steady clopping of a horse’s hooves on the soft earth, but even that was muffled. A zephyr bent the long blades of grass that grew in the fields, and sent the feathery seeds of a dandelion into the air, spinning up down and around.
The grey stallion’s eyes grew wide as the scent of death reached its nostrils, and he stopped abruptly, snorting with fear. His rider, a dark haired young man, by the name of Murtagh, looked concerned and dismounted from the saddle. Still holding his horse’s reins, he bent down and examined the trail of footprints that he had been following for the past few days.
His dark eyes narrowed, and he attempted to lead his horse onward on foot. The stallion stubbornly refused, and Murtagh gave up. He backtracked along the trail and tied the horse to a tree, and continued the pursuit on foot, bow in hand.
Under normal circumstances he wouldn’t have abandoned Tornac, his grey warhorse that had been given to him when he was just a foal. But these weren’t normal circumstances, and based upon the recentness of the prints, the Ra’zac couldn’t be far off.
A sudden screech rent the air, and Murtagh stopped, listening intently for anything else. He heard nothing, but proceeded with more caution, and at a slower pace, so as not to alert his enemies of his presence too early. A small clearing in the forest entered his circle of vision, and from his position, he could see various dark shapes moving within it.
A small grin played across his lips. After days of searching for the Ra’zac, who had been his enemies ever since he first fled the Empire and Galbatorix’s dementia, he had finally found them. He advanced slowly, and reaching back to the quiver of arrows that was slung across his back, he pulled one out and silently strung his bow.
He stood with his back against a large oak tree, which hid most of his person, and listened to the conversation that was taking place in the clearing, between the one of the Ra’zac and a groggy-looking brown haired boy, who was tied with his hands behind his back, that appeared to be only a few years younger than he was himself. By straining his ears to hear the soft voice of the Ra’zac, that seemed to glide smoothly through the air, he managed to catch a few words of their conversation.
“…dragon…cooperative…threatened…kill you…” said the Ra’zac softly. The boy muttered something indecipherable, and the Ra’zac laughed. Murtagh sucked in his breath, A Rider! A sudden clanking of chains caught Murtagh’s attention, and he watched in growing horror as a huge, sapphire blue dragon was shackled, and muzzled by the second Ra’zac.
His jaw clenched, and he listened again to the Ra’zac, who was now pointing at an old man that Murtagh had only just noticed was there. “…much grief…kill him…” He tore his gaze away from the goings on in the clearing, and stared down at the ground, thinking frantically while trying to decide what he should do. As if to help him in his decision, he glanced back to the Ra’zac, one of whom was wielding a dagger before the neck of the old man. The other, however, sniffed the air and looked troubled.
Murtagh cursed under his breath and swiftly fitted an arrow to his bow. Taking aim, he let it fly and watched it zoom towards the Ra’zac with the knife before letting another arrow loose.
Rank:
Hero, son of Morzan
Country:
The Empire
Personality:
Murtagh has a complex personality, being extremely intelligent and ambitious, and yet logical and realistic. He has a thinly veiled distaste for the Varden, asserting that although the king is mad, the system of government is itself sound, and therefore feels that the radical politics of the Varden is flawed.
Accustomed to being in danger from the day he was born, Murtagh is constantly on edge, wary of strangers and even friends and reluctant to trust anyone. He doesn’t take any chances and says, “You must be willing to protect yourself and what you cherish, no matter what the cost”.
Murtagh is cool and ruthless, with a very high level of emotional maturity, with Murtagh staying calm and controlled even in the most trying circumstances, although he can lose his temper when people act childish. He is intensely private and strong willed and keeps his mind fiercely protected at all times.
However, he is also a loyal comrade and, despite his hardness, a very compassionate person. He also has an amazing inner strength, that enables him to survive the countless hardships he faces in his life.
History:
Murtagh’s parents met in a small town while Morzan was on business for Galbatorix. Morzan showed Selena (his mother) some small kindness to gain her trust, and when he left the town, she followed him. They traveled together for a time, and Selena fell in love with Morzan, who gleefully used it to his own advantage. He used her as his own personal messenger between himself and the other Riders, in addition to Galbatorix. Time passed in that manner, until Selena became pregnant.
Morzan managed to keep it a secret from everyone but Galbatorix, who knew all of the Riders’ thoughts and secrets. But for some reason, he never revealed it. In due time, Murtagh was born and given to a wet nurse so that Selena could return to Morzan’s side, although she had no choice in the matter. She and her son were kept apart, except for once every few months, when Morzan allowed them to see each other.
Morzan was eventually called away by Galbatorix to hunt for Saphira’s egg, which had been stolen by Brom the Rider. Not long after, Selena disappeared. Where to, nobody knows, for although the king sent soldiers to look for her, her trail couldn’t be found, and eventually, Galbatorix gave up.
Morzan was killed when he faced Brom in Gil’ead in a fight for the dragon egg, but before word reached the king of his faithful servant’s death, Selena returned. She was sick, and very weak, and died within a fortnight.
Murtagh was transferred to Urû'baen by the king, who arranged to have him brought up, but other than that, he was left alone. When he turned thirteen, a teacher by the name of Tornac, came to him, and taught him swordplay. Throughout years of training, Murtagh eventually became a talented swordsman, and is now still good friends with the man. Tornac recently gave Murtagh a young grey colt, whose name has not yet been chosen for him.
[At this point in his life, Tornac hasn't died yet]
Codeword:
Zar'roc
Not sure what C.P. would say. ;D