TessC
Posts : 8
Join date : 2013-12-22
Age : 63
Location : USA
 |  Subject: Dace of the Blood Moon Squad  Sun Dec 22, 2013 6:28 pm | |
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OOC Info:
Moniker: TessC
How did you find out about us?: Invited by Eloaene
Character Info:
Name:Dace
Pronunciation: Rhymes with “Ace”
Title:General Pain In The. . . no, never mind.
Age & Turn of Birth: 18, 483 AL.
Gender: Male
Place of Birth: Mountainous region between Telgar and Crom.
Current Place of Residence: Telgar Hold Territory (Mountains)
Craft: Guardsman/Bowyer
Rank/Occupation/Role Desired: Master Bowyer, but it’s more likely he’ll be a member of the Guard.
Character Aspirations:
✣ To find his and Kevarre’s half-sister and bring her to live with them at Telgar River Hold.
✣ To see his recurve bows become the benchmark for archers all over Pern.
✣ To earn his brother’s trust, and his respect, as one capable, honorable man to another.
✣ To be acknowledged as a competent, trustworthy Guardsman.
OOC Character Development Goals: ((Undecided at this early point))
Family:
✣Father: Unknown
✣Mother: Alcaia –Wandering pillowcrafter- missing, presumed deceased.
✣Siblings: Half-Brother, Kevarre (20), Half-Sister (16)
✣Children: None
✣Other Significant: His guard-mates, though Dace doesn’t trust much of anyone and tends to look out for himself first.
Appearance:
✣Face: Lucas Till
✣Hair: Medium blond
✣Eyes: Grey-blue
✣Height: 5’ 11
✣Build: Lean, and still boyish. Dace does have a well-developed back, chest and set of arms from pulling heavy bows daily.
✣Other Notable Physical Traits: A cleft in his chin. Dace exhibits slightly asymmetrical posture and muscular development, again, from a lifetime of intensive archery. Dace is also a leftie, though he can shoot with either hand dominant.
✣Style of Dress: As little as the climate and society allows, and usually covered with horn dust and glue smears. Dace’s clothes get a life-time contract with him, and no garment is discarded till the only purpose it can still serve is to be boiled down for pulp or shredded for stuffing.
✣Possessions usually found on persona:
A bow and quiver.An archer’s thumb ring. An all-purpose knife at his belt, and a fighting dirk tucked into his boot.Extra bowstrings. A handful of jerky or nuts or dried fruit tucked into a bit of hide in the bottom of a pocket. Dace is pretty much a bottomless pit of Feed Me at this point in his life.
History: Dace tells Kevarre, and himself, that he doesn’t remember much about their early life. Kevarre may believe him, but Dace knows he’s lying. His brother has enough guilt and regret on his shoulders over their kidnapped sister already, though, and Dace sees no need to add more.
He remembers almost all of it, from a misty memory of his mother’s face the morning she left them forever to the day he walked so far with Kev and their sister that when they stopped, he dropped to the ground and couldn’t get back up for a long time.
He remembers being hungry, and cold, and lonely and scared. He remembers how hot and pale his little sister felt, how sunken her eyes looked and the blue tinge of her lips, when he squatted at her side, watching over her while Kevarre searched the unfamiliar Hold for help.
One thing he remembers very clearly is the woman who took their sister away to the Hold infirmary-- the woman who stole their little sister. Someday, he’ll see her again-- and when he does, he’ll find out what she did with Sorcha-- regardless of what he has to do to extract the information.
Dace doesn’t expect some Harper’s tale happy ending, even if he can bring their sister back home. Too many Turns have passed for them all, and that emaciated, fevered little girl would be a woman now that neither of them could likely even recognize.
No, it’s not his long-lost sister he longs for. It’s a burning desire to bring closure and relief to Kevarre that drives him. He knows Kevarre will never have any true peace or happiness until he can somehow know he didn’t fail his duty to Sorcha.
Not all his past was a harrowing wasteland stalked by fear and loss and hunger. Dace treasures the memory of occasional kindnesses, and most of all, of the temporary home they found with the old huntsman who took pity on them out of mutual loneliness. It was there that Dace, along with Kevarre, learned to create and use a bow.
Both boys grew skilled in archery, but it was Dace who found a special sort of solace and meaning in the slow, careful, methodical process of turning horn and wood and sinew and hide into a graceful, delicate instrument. A tool that brought life to them even as it brought death to the creatures they stalked.
Old, gruff, half-crazed Herlan was the nearest person to a father that Dace ever knew, and as far as he’s concerned, Herlan was the only father he ever needed. Kevarre didn’t seem too shaken when the old man went to sleep one night and never awoke, so Dace hid his own grief and kept his shoulders back and his jaws locked tight against even words as they took what they needed, then burned the old hunter’s hut down around his body, as his rightful funeral pyre.
They were walking again. Dace following his brother’s lead again, without question, though he did wonder if Kevarre had any idea where to go. He didn’t ask questions, and Kevarre didn’t offer many answers. After a while, he began to recognize where they were headed-- back to Telgar Hold.
“She prob’ly ain’t in there no more,” he dared to protest as they drew near the gates.
“I know,” Kevarre answered with a shrug, and walked on so fast that Dace had to almost run to keep up for a few strides.
And that was all that was said of Sorcha and their past for a very, very long time to come. They had hardly gotten into the Hold proper before they were rounded up by the Guard. Dace stuck to his brother so close, it probably looked like they were lashed together at the hip. He was certain they’d be thrashed and branded as thieves, maybe even sent to the mines. He eyed the other ragged boys rounded up with them, his eyes wide and his heart pounding fast between his back teeth.
But what the Guard said next made his eyes go even wider: "Boys, you've had a hard life. You are not here for anything you may have done. We are offering you an opportunity to come and learn a special set of skills that will be useful to Telgar's Guard in the future. You would be fed, clothed and educated however it requires a lot of hard work and dedication. If you have the heart to do this, then say so, if not, you may leave."
Kevarre leaned in and whispered in his ear, "We should go."
Dace nodded and reached for Kevarre’s hand.
His brother spoke for them both, as he almost always did back then. "We will come."
And so their new lives began, reborn at the hardened ages of ten and eight. Kev kept him almost in his vest pocket all the time, which felt secure and safe for a little while, but then started to rub Dace the wrong way. The other boys teased his brother, calling Kevarre a mother hen and worse, but Kev sucked it up and went on. When the teasers realized they weren’t getting a reaction from either brother, they knocked it off.
Some of them later found rotten snake eggs in their clean underwear, their toothbrushes in the urinal and crawlies drowning in their bowls of stew. Wonder how that happened? Dace played the wide-eyed, blond haired, undersized innocence bit to the hilt when questioned, and even managed to turn a tinge green and gag when brought to the stinky scene of the crime.
Forthright, strictly by-the-rules Kevarre was above suspicion and had a sealed tight alibi, of course, which was just as Dace had planned it.
Boyish hazing aside, he and Kevarre soon settled in and the camp became a home, a more stable, secure, and even comfortable home than they’d ever known before. Caught up in the intensive training, and the loathed and dreaded lessons in literacy, mathematics, history and etiquette, Dace didn’t much think about the world past their isolated encampment.
At the age of 15, however, the isolation eased, as he was allowed to join the other older boys on small missions and make supply runs to the nearby minor holds. Dace thrived on that newfound freedom, and the chance to ride for candlemarks, and even to hunt again.
Now the time for Examination has come and gone. Dace literally sweated through his shirt during the written section, and turned in his test booklet almost dead last-- but in the end, he found his name posted just below Yeoun’s and Kevarre’s. That’s pretty much the rank they’d held amongst them for their entire lives, so Dace counted it as a mutual victory.
By his brother’s side, as always, he stood tall and straight in his new uniform, at strict parade attention, and received their assignment from the First Squad Division Captain.
Personality: Dace has an outgoing, bold, even somewhat abrasive personality that covers up a big squirming mess of vulnerabilities inside. He feels as though he has to prove himself worthy of attention, respect and-- until recently-- even his food: to his brother, primarily, but also to his Commander and the Guardsmen.
This lack of self-worth manifests in a rather rowdy, boastful, swaggering demeanor, and a resentful attitude towards any perceived patronizing from his older brother.
The only ability he has solid, complete confidence in is his ability to craft a fine, beautiful bow, and his marksmanship with the weapon. With everything else, he feels like he’s always struggling to keep from coming up second-best, or worse.
Shortcomings:
A tease and an instigator- allow Dace to get under your skin at your own risk. If he finds your hot button, he’ll push it just for the fun of watching you explode and splutter. He does, however, usually recognize when his teasing is crossing the line into bullying, at which point he’ll apologize and knock it the shards off-- if his target doesn’t knock it the shards off for him first!A budding tomcat- Dace’s normal teenage male libido is ramped up by Dace’s abandonment issues with women. So, he’s going to make ALL the women fawn on him, and he’ll use ‘em and leave ‘em first, by Faranth! Dace can come across, and is, rather cold and heartless about his lecherous intentions. He’s not as venomously bitter towards women as his older brother, but it works out just about the same in the end.
Mannerisms or Habits: When he’s thinking hard about something, in a world of his own, or nervous and forced into sedentary waiting, Dace will click his archer’s ring against his front teeth.
Skills/Likes:
✣ Bow-crafting is his major (he thinks only) skill. He’s very good at it, and is never happier than when he’s lost in shaping a laminated blank of horn, wood and sinew into a precise, beautiful weapon.
✣Dace is a good hunter, mounted or on foot, and enjoys that almost as much as he enjoys chasing skirts.
Dislikes/Unskillful at:
✣ Anything to do with the written word. Due to his homeless childhood, Dace barely grasped the ability to read and write even his own name. It’s taken a lot of sweat and struggle to correct that, and even now reading is a dreaded chore and his writing is a major chore for whoever is unlucky enough to have to decipher the scrawl.
✣ Being in any type of formal situation where he’s required to smile, engage in polite conversation and make nice to everyone. It’s not that he’s disrespectful out of arrogance so much as his crippling fear of displaying ‘hoof-in-mouth disease. ’ He’s uncomfortable because of his perceived awkwardness that he resents those who he sees as the social superiors forcing him into the formalities.
Fighting Style/Weapon of Choice: A bow. Dace is of the sniper mindset when it comes to inflicting bodily harm.
Crafter Information:
Craft: Guardsman
Turns in Craft: 11
Rank: Junior Journeyman
Location of Journeymanship: Telgar Rivers Hold
Specialization: Bows, knives, slings.
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