| Orc of the Black Hand Join Date: Apr 2007
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|  Taric Calahan
Name - Taric Calahan
Age - 22
Class - Fighter/Rogue (Around the same level, weapon master later levels)
Race - Human
Alignment - True Neutral
Deity - None
Biography:
Taric was born a healthy baby by loving parents. Only inside a small two roomed house within Port Hempstead. His mother, Kate, a common housewife who could not find work, his father, Bill, was part of the local guard for Port Hempstead.
At the age of five he began his education at home, by his mother and father. He was taught how to cook, clean, read, write and also bits of whatever History Kate and Bill could remember (Even if it was made up!). Sometimes Taric would do the work, and sometimes not, it dependended on the mood he was in. When he had free time Taric would go outside to find other children to play with. He sometimes made friends, then drifted out of friendships, he didn't help other people when they came across problems within their games. He only sometimes worked well in groups, if he felt the group was balanced he was happy and contributed ideas of what game to play next. When he felt the group was not fair or unbalanced, he would usually stay back and let the others argue among themselves, then sometimes followed the crowd.
Taric wanted to start searching for a small job, but his father told him he must learn "life skills". A few weeks later, his father took him camping in the nearby woods, this was the first time Taric had really been out of the city. The pair set up camp, Taric was taught how to make a fire and cooked some freshly caught meat by his father. That night however, a pair of humanoids saw a distant light and approached the camp light. Bill suddenly looked up and began to scout the trees, looking around he told his son to stay where he was, and grabbed his dagger from his belt. Taric froze. Bill got up, and cautiously started walking at a tree, where suddenly a goblin jumped out, screaming with a short sword equipped in one of his hands!
Bill turned his body and avoided the attack, Taric's mind was spinning, another goblin appeared from another tree on the opposite side of the camp, coming straight for Taric. He picked a nearby rock and threw it with all his might. The rock whistled in the air and smacked the goblin on the temple, collapsing him to the floor with a slight groan. Another cry cames from behind Taric, his father had managed to stab the goblin in the side and across the throat, before the goblin fell to the floor, knees first then *Thud*. Bill whirled around and lunged for the other goblin, who was slowly getting up rubbing his head. Bill slashed the goblin across the face, kicked him and finished him off by stabbing in the chest. A faint gasp of air escaped the goblin's lips and then began to slowly go pale. Taric was in a state of shock, taking a few deep breaths he looked amazed at his father. He father grunted for him to collect his things, light was coming and they had to head back home.
Lugging the bag Taric began to slowly walk back to the city with Bill, he was inspired by the way his father battled and wanted to learn more. He questioned his father on this topic.
His father turned, smiled, then nodded, agreeing that he was old enough to equip a blade to defend himself. Taric smiled, and felt something deep inside of himself stir, and it felt good.
As they bustled back into the home, Kate welcomed them with open arms, which suddenly became filled with an assortment of bandages as she wrapped the two in bandages, shocked at the amount of bruises on their bodies. But the bruises didn't mind Taric, he was glad he had bruises, it felt like a new path was opening for him.
So after a few days, bruises healing, cuts closing, Taric and his father set out for the woods once again, carrying a wooden stick with a bucket placed on top with an assortment of string randomly glued that was suppose to represent a target. Taric didn't care, it was his first day of training and he was excited. Taric's father suddenly stopped near a grove of trees and impaled the dummy into the ground. He gave Taric a simple bronze dagger, smiled at him and encouraged to attack the target. Taric stood dumbfounded, he loosely held the blade and felt unsure what to do. He just ran up to the target, let out a loud scream and slashed sideways at the bucket, only to find he managed to disarm himself in the process. His father laughing, went to pick up the dagger and showed him a few basic dagger moves, forward thrust, upper cut, left slash, right cut. Within a few weeks Taric felt he had mastered the basics of this, he was a quick learner.
With a fresh new target dummy in place, Bill decided it was time to head to the next level. Acrobatics. Taric wasn't exactly flexible, but he wasn't stiff at the same time. His father showed him a few basic stretches and was told to do them every morning, but Taric being Taric only did them some mornings, only promising sometimes that he will do it. His father showed how to do a forward roll with ease, a side roll, how to jump high and finally a back flip with the help of a tree. His father pushed him to take him out everyday, but only 4-6 days of the week would Taric actually go. He would sometimes lie to his father, like he felt ill or hurt his foot, other times he told his father the blunt truth. His first few attempts at a back flip didnt go well, Taric would usually just run into the tree instead of attempting to run up it. With a bloody nose he ran for the tree, ran up it and almost did a back flip. Taric was determined to do this. After a few weeks of training of those, he had to learn to use them within combat, this was the part Taric was looking forward to, and began to train more often. His father taught him how to duck, side step and jump out of the way of attacks, with the use of a wooden stick in which his father would try to thrust attacks at Taric. This took a few months to complete, and now he could, most of the time, evade the attacks his father gave.
Taric found himself more lighter on his feet as his training went on, and naturally began to sometimes walk quietier and accidently scare people when he approached them from behind.
Taric now felt complete in his training, but not he did not feel it was whole of it. He was now 22 and felt he needed to put these skills to good use. He wanted to see the world, explore, learn and make discoveries. He felt a burning flame within him that wanted to learn about the ways of the combat and wanted to truly master it. He decided it was time for him to leave and look for adventure, and also some friendship along the way. He said goodbye to his father, who had a tear on his cheek and kissed his mother farewell on the cheek, whos eyes seemed to be glazed with tears. Turning as he ruffled his backpack about, with the essentials of food, water, a journal , he waved and promised to write home frequently about all his adventures, and promised to return one day. He cleared a few tears away from his red eyes and his feet carried him off into the busy streets.
Looks:
Tall with long brown hair that almost covers one eye. Stubble, brown eyes. Slightly muscular but more of a dexterous body.
Edit: Done some changes, highlighted in red
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I shall use this space wisely. Other minds may not even exist...But if my mind only exists, then how did I write this? My own mind alone could not have done this. Is this still a space now?
Last edited by XBlade : 05-03-07 at 11:05 AM.
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