Rolo din Faeryk
New member
Rolo din Faeryk
| Age Twenties |
| Gender Male |
| Origin Human, Naya Vapna born |
| Occupation Karmic Legionnaire |
"Let roar the horns
Let stir the heart
Dawn is as dawn will be
Death everlasting
The mother carry us home
So sound the pigs, the feeders, the leeches
Carry on the tune of carrion, of prey
Watch without whimsy
Weary and wet
Watch without longing
Without pain
War
Everlasting"
Legion war chant, origin unknown
As a runny-nosed boy padding the streets and markets of Naya Vapna, Rolo's eyes fixed on a goal of joining the Karmic Legions. The crimson and purple heraldry, the wicked accoutrements of battle, the awed and fevered whispers that followed their storied marches—a gestalten whole drew him to the ranks, promises of renown and glory filled a boyish gaze that longed for future horizons. He knew beyond the ken of doubt what path he wished to follow.
Pity him not. In the end, it was his choice to make.
Born to a reasonably affluent family, the middle of four siblings, Rolo never strayed from his youthful ambition. He wished to become a legionnaire. And he did at the first opportunity.
His soft mettle has yet to be tested by the Crucible's tempering. Perhaps that might dissuade him of his dreams.
Let stir the heart
Dawn is as dawn will be
Death everlasting
The mother carry us home
So sound the pigs, the feeders, the leeches
Carry on the tune of carrion, of prey
Watch without whimsy
Weary and wet
Watch without longing
Without pain
War
Everlasting"
Legion war chant, origin unknown
As a runny-nosed boy padding the streets and markets of Naya Vapna, Rolo's eyes fixed on a goal of joining the Karmic Legions. The crimson and purple heraldry, the wicked accoutrements of battle, the awed and fevered whispers that followed their storied marches—a gestalten whole drew him to the ranks, promises of renown and glory filled a boyish gaze that longed for future horizons. He knew beyond the ken of doubt what path he wished to follow.
Pity him not. In the end, it was his choice to make.
Born to a reasonably affluent family, the middle of four siblings, Rolo never strayed from his youthful ambition. He wished to become a legionnaire. And he did at the first opportunity.
His soft mettle has yet to be tested by the Crucible's tempering. Perhaps that might dissuade him of his dreams.
Appearance
| Height 5'9 |
| Build Sprightly |
| Hair Dark |
| Eyes Dark |
Of average height and frame with a face splotched from lovers' spats with the sun, Rolo would boast an otherwise unremarkable appearance beneath a helmet if not for the size of his head. Possessed of, in his brother's words, "a melon too unseemly for any hat," Rolo indeed struggled in initial enlistment to find gear tailored to his particular dimensions. It took some measure of skill and swollen thumbs to suit his comfort, and it is often noted among peers to be one of his easier insecurities. Pleated hair obscures it uncovered, with the scraggly starts of a beard itching at his chin.
Personality
Bright eyed and outspoken, with a ready quip for friends and an eager affirmation to his command, the boy has never seen struggle. Knowing but of the plenty of Naya Vapna, enraptured by legends of war and enamored by his own dreams, he is naive in many ways. Few of them are excused by youthful indiscretion.
Skills
Practiced with the blade and close quarters combat. He can hold a shield, knows which end of the spear to stick into skin, and can march reasonably well in formation. However, he has never seen live combat, never killed or wounded another beyond the bruises of the practice yard.