For the Love of the Blade - Arthor Slowstone

[Teo]

//The bio:


Character: Arthor Slowstone
Age: 20
Gender: Male
Classes: Fighter/Duelist
Race: Human
Alignment: Neutral Good
Deity: None


Biography:

Arthor Slowstone is entirely misnamed. He has a quick sword, quick feet, and an equally quick tongue. There is nothing slow or stony about him.

Born on a small farm, Arthor studied the art of swordplay from a very young age, he remembers starting at age six or seven. Back then he had a weighted rope tied to a tree, that he practiced parrying and attacking on with a wooden sword, as his parents worried about there boy swinging a real sword. He was obsessed with his wooden sword, though.

Starting at a young age has lead Arthor to avoiding large, heavy weapons. When he was young, he couldn't lift a heavy sword, and as he grew, he continued what he was good at. His parents slowly grew to understand their son's love of the sword, though.

One day, one of Arthor's friends found a sword, hidden in the bushes In his farm. It was a basic rapier, made of copper. His friend had no interest in swords, and he gave it to Arthor. Arthor had no idea of were the sword came from, but he decided to make the best of it and he started practicing with it. He quickly demolished his rope dummy, and had to fashion a wooden man to practice on. He picked up on the strikes and the blocks in his spare time, quickly advancing in skill.

Arthor had a desire to leave his wooden dummies behind, though. He began to design odd dummies with swinging arms that used the force he applied, to increase his mobility. Once or twice he was whacked a good one, but his love of the blade was greater than his pain. He learned from his mistakes, and decided that he just wouldn't get hit if it was going to hurt.

At age twelve, Arthor's blade was flying faster than ever. His sword was his favorite thing in the world. Arthor, even if it was a three-minuet break, would pick up the sword and practice. The weapon was natural to him, he felt as if it was a extension of his arm. His parents were proud, but at the same time they worried he would leave. He was young, still, but growing. His parent's knew the time would come, but they could wait.

Age fourteen was only allowing more swordplay skill. Arthor quickly began wandering from home, out into the wilderness. He wouldn't go far, but his parents worried about Arthor. Arthor was coming home battered, though. He had been having swordplay practice with a few of the other local teen-agers who found the swords interesting. They dueled with wooden swords, as to not hurt each other so much as to draw blood. They went easy at first, gradually working up until it was almost dangerous. Although Arthor fought with a style not everyone was familiar with, they shared styles until they came up with a sword-dueling style they called 'Wilderness Dueling', as they had taught each other in the wild. It consisted of mainly basic thrusts, but with a rare slash or leap.

At age nineteen, a friend of Arthor said he had heard of a reason to go (he had told him of his desire to leave). Someone had told his friend of a rat issue in Hempstead, and, his friend thought, if he could prove to his parents that he could be doing good in the world, they may let him go!

Arthor immediately told his parents that he planned to go investigate the issue in the sewers of Hempstead (their farm has in the Hempstead feilds). His parents were reluctant, and didn't want him to go, but he insisted. Finally, his parents agreed to let him go into the sewers. They said that, If he succeeded, they would let him go. If he failed, he wouldn't be alowed to try again. He took a month of hard training, and he waited, to let his arms build up strength.

When the time finally came, Arthor was ready. He was off, him and his sword at the ready.

Physical Description: Arthor is lean, wearing tight clothes to keep his sword arm free. He almost always has his sword in hand, unless he is told to put it away, but he is still quite reluctant. He has messy dark-brown hair. He's taller, around six foot seven. A comforting smile often spreads across his face.

Personality: Arthor is good-natured, and enjoys a good laugh. He treats his blade as if it were alive, which, as far as he's concerned, it is.

[Teo]

*Arthor sits down against a tree and pulls out a small brown book, which, thankfully, hasn't gotten stuck together by the zombie slime*

Met some new people today, did some jobs, and practiced with my blade a lot. I met A few halflings, one names Lindara and one named Alice. Alice seemed to shun blades and just hit the goblins with her fists, and Lindara seemed to prefer the bow. I saw a man named Chaynce as well, he was just complaining that I needed armor, a shield, and a bigger sword. But I'll stick with my blade, thank you very much. The zombie slime sticks to it to much, though. Got slime everywhere. Gonna need new clothes soon, too. But I'm improving with my sword!

*closes his book and tucks his book into the one remaining un-slimed pocket of his outfit*

[Teo]

*sits down facing a lake*

I finally had to put my old blade down. It was time for a break, and the slime that was sticking to it was awful. I got a new iron blade, hopefully it won't dull. But my  old blade is a thing I'm going to keep around. Always. As sad as I am letting my former blade go, I must. I need to. I don't want to, but I must. My old sword served me well, and I will always remember it, though. Parting with it will be something I may never like, but it is an old blade that needs a break. I must give it the break it needs.

[Teo]

*leans against a tree and pulls out his little brown book*

I met an odd young lady today. She was a priestess of Vorax, which I'm fine with. But we went to an old abandon castle full of undead, and she was freaking out. I mean, she was shivering and every once in a while going, "Arthor, did you hear that?" or, "Your sure you didn't hear anything?" and so on. She was beginning to freak me out. It was like she was hearing some indivisible thing whispering in her ear. I didn't like it. But the zombie slime doesn't stick to me new sword as bad, thank goodness.

*sits down and closes his book*

[Teo]

I purchased a new set of clothing, which has iron woven into it. It feels the same as standard clothes, but it seems to give better protection then the standard clothing. I mean to get some platinum reinforced clothing soon. That may let me rely on it a little more so I can go for the attack. The iron blade works quite nicely. I still have m old blade, though. I'll never let it go truly. I still use it every once in a while though, to keep it satisfied and ready, in case it needs to fulfill a thing that my current blade cannot. You can never tell when an old blade thirsts for a little exercise.  

[Teo]

Mistone is not what I thought when I left the farm. I always had believed that the world was a simple place, with one rout from here to there, and there was no problems unless you looked for them. I have proved myself wrong. There are secret passages everywhere. I found one recently that leads from a place called Windjammers Bay, to Fort Wayfare. Trouble is around every corner, and more often then not, the trouble finds me. I have to retreat to the cities to find any sort of peace an quiet, and on the roads beasts are always watching. The only reassurance  find is from my blade. Chaynce enchanted it today, and now it casts light out. It may make those dark corners of Mistone easier to find and adjust to. I mean to get another type of enchantment for it soon. My blade is so much more then a blade, no matter what anybody says. It gives me peace of mind and protection. It gives me my new way of living.