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Name: Oliver Aeravandal Acrobat/Bard/Fighter
Race: Human, male Age: 28 Hair: Red Eyes: Green Skin: Tan, light freckles
Oliver literally means “elf army” and his name turned out to be prophetic, in a manner of speaking. As a very young boy of only four summers, Oliver was left on a street corner in Sal Kadedin. His mother and father had had a terrible argument, which he witnessed. Oliver’s father had struck his mother, she fell against the corner of a table and never stood up again. Already feeling overburdened, the panicked man took Oliver, sat him down on a street corner and told him to wait. The man then walked away without looking back.
Oliver waited three days for his father to return before he started begging for food. Occasionally a passerby would take pity on the boy and give him a scrap of meat or cheese, perhaps a crust of bread or a piece of fruit if he was especially fortunate. This went on for another six days when he finally gave up hope. His father was not returning. What could he do? Where would he go? How would he live?
All these questions and more were answered two days later. Having no answers for them himself, Oliver had stayed on the street corner, trying to look cute. This was difficult because after nearly a fortnight of sleeping on the street, well, he just looked scruffy and pitiful. No one wanted anything to do with a filthy, scruffy, pitiful boy. No one except Inethiel Aeravandal. The elf woman had been shopping in the marketplace for her family, the traveling minstrels called the Aeravandal Players.
After a long discussion with her husband, Verion, and her children, Castien, Aranion and Araya, the family took little Oliver in and raised him as though he was one of their own. The boy had lost a good mother and a bad father, but gained two good parents, two brothers, a sister, an uncle and aunt as well as two cousins. However, because they were all already fully grown elves it was as though he was an only child with many parents. He loved it.
Verion Aeravandal had often been teased, because of his large family, that he was raising an elf army. Not only did he have his family in his minstrel circus caravan, but there were a number of others, including several humans, a couple of halflings and a few dwarves. Now, with the addition of Oliver, his traveling elf army had increased by one.
Nickname: Ollie the Oriole (no one knows this)
Reason for nickname: Oliver was a star of the trapeze, among other acrobatic feats, flying like a bird for others’ entertainment in the family circus.
Race: Human, male
Occupation/class: Bard/Jongleur/Troubadour/Acrobat
Physical Appearance:
Age: 28
How old he appears: 22
Eyes: jewel tone green, his eyes appear to be sparkling emeralds
Hair: thick, wavy, copper colored locks fall below his collar and seem to be untamable
Height and Weight: 5’9” tall, 173 pounds
Type of body: lean and athletic with dense, well defined muscles
Skin tone and type: smooth and sun bronzed
Shape of face: square, strong jaw, high cheekbones, Roman nose and prominent brow
Distinguishing marks: dimples in chin and left cheek
Predominant feature: Emerald eyes that sparkle with intelligence and humor
Clothing: Oliver wears brightly colored clothing; royal blue breeches with a red long-sleeved tunic and a green sash around his hips as well as a purple doublet, slashed through with bits of red material. His garb is somewhat loose fitting, for ease of movement, but in formal performances for which he has been commissioned he wears bright red hose, which are thick, woolen tights. Oliver also wears a hand tooled black leather harness that holds two razor sharp short swords at his back. Their hilts peek up over his shoulders when viewing him from the front. He also has a deep purple cloak to wrap up in on the cold nights on the road. His black leather boots are soft and malleable, also for ease of movement.
Favorites:
Favorite color: Red (so exciting)
Least favorite: Brown (too blah)
Music? Joyful songs of praise
Least favorite music: funeral dirges (has heard too many of them)
Food: fresh fruit
Literature: Elvish poetry
Expressions: Every day is a new adventure.
Expletives (curse): Thaur! (abominable)
Mode of transport: his horse, “Vellon” (Elvish for friend)
Spends a rainy day: reading or strumming his lute, singing
Personality:
Oliver is quite the daredevil, hence his reputation as a fearless acrobat. He appears reckless to many, but that is only in physical feats. He makes friends wherever he goes, but easily leaves them with a smile when it’s time to move on. Oliver is a man without personal boundaries, or so it seems. He is the same whether his is alone or with someone and yet even in a crowd he can seem far away. Although he is open and friendly, this man is actually rather cautious about letting anyone get too close to his heart.
Oliver has a habit of humming or whistling, the tune matching his mood, especially when he is deep in thought or concentrating on a task. He also tends to stick his tongue out when concentrating, and licks his lips when anticipating something he knows, or thinks, he will enjoy. Oliver is not one given to strong drink, but he does enjoy a good tankard of mead at a big, sit down meal. Usually he is eating on the run, which is one of the reasons he loves fresh fruit. He can eat it one handed.
Oliver’s strength lies in his good humor, which has helped him recover from all the tremendous tragedy he has known in his life. Still, he bears pain in a way he doesn’t realize for he never lets anyone close. He can charm and entertain hundreds, but cannot seem to allow one person to get too close. In his heart is deep pain, which he hides behind a ready smile. His strength, therefore, is also his weakness. Oliver uses his wit to keep anyone who might seem to be getting under his skin at arm’s length.
Background:
Hometown: None, always traveling
Oliver started out in a home that was seen as prosperous and happy by society, but it was truly a terribly home environment, when his father was there. His mother was doting and loving, but his father was often drunk and abusive. She was tragically killed when Oliver’s father struck her in one of his drunken rages. He was left on a street corner and eventually adopted by a family of elves who ran a circus and minstrel group, The Aeravandal Players.
At age fifteen, Oliver endured yet another horrible tragedy. The circus had arrived outside a sizable town in Eyrel, which, unbeknownst to the Aeravandal family, had a large faction of elf haters. During the circus a human girl of the town was horribly and viciously attacked. In her shocked and traumatized state she said it had been elves who had done the foul deed when in fact it had been a group of callow youths who had been harassing her for weeks. She feared further abuse if she spoke the wealthy boys’ names so she lied.
Catastrophically, the truth did not come out until after a mob, led by five elf haters, including the three boys who had actually attacked the girl, came to the circus and began setting fire to the wagons and equipment. When the family and their friends and loved ones emerged from their wagons to defend themselves and their livelihood they were set upon by the mob. No one with Elvish blood was allowed to live, every member of Oliver’s family was either beaten to death or hanged. Many members of his extended family were also horribly beaten, some to their deaths, and in the aftermath Oliver was found unconscious, beaten unrecognizable and nearly dead. He had fought off five men who were attacking his mother, but more came to their aid and set upon young Oliver in overwhelming force.
When the sun had risen the next day the truth was known, but because of the influence of the boys‘ families nothing was done to bring justice to those . Oliver felt his life was over. The circus disbanded and, having no one, he sought training to become a warrior so he could exact revenge on those who had destroyed his life. His heart was stone, cold and hard. For the next ten years he traded his skills, which are many, to learn the way of the warrior. From various fighters, whether they were landed barons who needed a scribe or adventuring parties who needed a bard, or even an assassin’s guild that needed someone who could teach them how to scale walls, Oliver learned many ways to kill from whoever would teach him.
His own fighting style emerged as one that utilizes his acrobatics and athleticism in a hard charging and dynamically fluid attack that often leaves opponents dizzy. Oliver prefers two short swords as they are light and easily wielded, having little bulk. Through his travels Oliver hunted and killed three of the men who had been responsible for leading the attack on his family. Then, when engaged in a mission with an adventuring party, Oliver met a warrior from whom he knew he could learn much, but surprisingly the mysterious woman showed him ways of peace. The Way of the Master she called it. When Oliver asked about who this Master was she told him of a Man who had defeated all evil with one act of ultimate sacrifice. As Oliver learned more and more about this Jesus who was God made Man, he found his bitterness and rage melting away as well as his need for revenge. He forgave all who had ever harmed him, including his father, and stopped traveling for a time to try and figure out what he was going to do with his life.
That had been three years ago and after a couple months of deep introspection Oliver took to the road again, traveling as a bard who entertained, but who also sought to bring the love of God to all he met. Still Oliver is haunted by what happened so many years ago, not wishing to expose himself to the pain of loss ever again. Now in Phelatia, having survived a horrible earthquake, Oliver is seeking to help those in crisis, and there are plenty of them.
Education: extensive, both in books and in life
Religion: strong faith in God sustains him, enjoys personal relationship with Christ
Finances: hand to mouth, no real assets save his lute, his talent and his smile
Family:
Mother: (adopted) Inethiel Aerevandal (deceased)
Relationship with her: was very close, very loving, this is true of whole family
Father: Verion Aerevandal (deceased)
Relationship with him: (deceased)
Siblings: Castien, brother (deceased)
Aranion, brother (deceased)
Araya, sister (deceased)
Children of siblings: none
Other extended family: Many humans, halflings, dwarves; all members of Aeravandal Players (Oliver has lost touch with all who survived the attack.)
Attitude:
Oliver enjoys helping others and sharing the love of God, but he is most at ease when he is entertaining somehow, be it one on one or to a crowd. He is at home wherever he is when playing his lute or is performing some acrobatic feat, he particularly enjoys walking on his hands. He is confident and outgoing, easily making friends wherever he goes, but as has been mentioned, he becomes ill at ease whenever anyone seems to be trying to get too close. He answers most questions about himself, but those about his thoughts or feelings are the ones that make him skittish.
Oliver tends to see the glass as half full, finding the silver lining around any cloud that might block the sun from his life. Finding the Lord and giving up his quest for vengeance has helped with that immensely. Still, his temper can flare when he sees a woman being ill treated. Oliver, although he will not admit this, takes it upon himself to come to the aid of any lady who seems in distress, whether she be two or a hundred and two. This has led to some fairly embarrassing moments for the bard, even a couple of legal entanglements from which he found it hard to extricate himself. Consequently, Oliver is a bit less impulsive about leaping into a fray, but no less staunch in his defense of ladies from all walks of life.
Oliver would describe himself as an acrobat and entertainer extraordinaire, but ask him anything personal and he closes up like a miser’s purse strings. He says it’s his smile that draws the crowds, but it is his skill and talent that keeps them and opens their wallets. This is mostly true, but what he doesn’t seem to realize is that it’s his handsome face and well formed physique that draws the ladies to his impromptu performances and the ladies draw their men. The ladies purses open to encourage Oliver to stay a while, their men’s to encourage him to leave. The acrobat is mistakenly seen as a flirt, but he simply takes genuine interest in people. Again, Oliver is unaware of this belief he evokes, but even if he was he would not care. He cares a great deal for others, he just cares little about their opinions.
http://bp3.blogger.com/_BcAhLr85Pvs/RwQe3VGsFFI/AAAAAAAAO8k/eKttg9PolHY/s1600-h/neff1.jpg
Race: Human, male Age: 28 Hair: Red Eyes: Green Skin: Tan, light freckles
Oliver literally means “elf army” and his name turned out to be prophetic, in a manner of speaking. As a very young boy of only four summers, Oliver was left on a street corner in Sal Kadedin. His mother and father had had a terrible argument, which he witnessed. Oliver’s father had struck his mother, she fell against the corner of a table and never stood up again. Already feeling overburdened, the panicked man took Oliver, sat him down on a street corner and told him to wait. The man then walked away without looking back.
Oliver waited three days for his father to return before he started begging for food. Occasionally a passerby would take pity on the boy and give him a scrap of meat or cheese, perhaps a crust of bread or a piece of fruit if he was especially fortunate. This went on for another six days when he finally gave up hope. His father was not returning. What could he do? Where would he go? How would he live?
All these questions and more were answered two days later. Having no answers for them himself, Oliver had stayed on the street corner, trying to look cute. This was difficult because after nearly a fortnight of sleeping on the street, well, he just looked scruffy and pitiful. No one wanted anything to do with a filthy, scruffy, pitiful boy. No one except Inethiel Aeravandal. The elf woman had been shopping in the marketplace for her family, the traveling minstrels called the Aeravandal Players.
After a long discussion with her husband, Verion, and her children, Castien, Aranion and Araya, the family took little Oliver in and raised him as though he was one of their own. The boy had lost a good mother and a bad father, but gained two good parents, two brothers, a sister, an uncle and aunt as well as two cousins. However, because they were all already fully grown elves it was as though he was an only child with many parents. He loved it.
Verion Aeravandal had often been teased, because of his large family, that he was raising an elf army. Not only did he have his family in his minstrel circus caravan, but there were a number of others, including several humans, a couple of halflings and a few dwarves. Now, with the addition of Oliver, his traveling elf army had increased by one.
Nickname: Ollie the Oriole (no one knows this)
Reason for nickname: Oliver was a star of the trapeze, among other acrobatic feats, flying like a bird for others’ entertainment in the family circus.
Race: Human, male
Occupation/class: Bard/Jongleur/Troubadour/Acrobat
Physical Appearance:
Age: 28
How old he appears: 22
Eyes: jewel tone green, his eyes appear to be sparkling emeralds
Hair: thick, wavy, copper colored locks fall below his collar and seem to be untamable
Height and Weight: 5’9” tall, 173 pounds
Type of body: lean and athletic with dense, well defined muscles
Skin tone and type: smooth and sun bronzed
Shape of face: square, strong jaw, high cheekbones, Roman nose and prominent brow
Distinguishing marks: dimples in chin and left cheek
Predominant feature: Emerald eyes that sparkle with intelligence and humor
Clothing: Oliver wears brightly colored clothing; royal blue breeches with a red long-sleeved tunic and a green sash around his hips as well as a purple doublet, slashed through with bits of red material. His garb is somewhat loose fitting, for ease of movement, but in formal performances for which he has been commissioned he wears bright red hose, which are thick, woolen tights. Oliver also wears a hand tooled black leather harness that holds two razor sharp short swords at his back. Their hilts peek up over his shoulders when viewing him from the front. He also has a deep purple cloak to wrap up in on the cold nights on the road. His black leather boots are soft and malleable, also for ease of movement.
Favorites:
Favorite color: Red (so exciting)
Least favorite: Brown (too blah)
Music? Joyful songs of praise
Least favorite music: funeral dirges (has heard too many of them)
Food: fresh fruit
Literature: Elvish poetry
Expressions: Every day is a new adventure.
Expletives (curse): Thaur! (abominable)
Mode of transport: his horse, “Vellon” (Elvish for friend)
Spends a rainy day: reading or strumming his lute, singing
Personality:
Oliver is quite the daredevil, hence his reputation as a fearless acrobat. He appears reckless to many, but that is only in physical feats. He makes friends wherever he goes, but easily leaves them with a smile when it’s time to move on. Oliver is a man without personal boundaries, or so it seems. He is the same whether his is alone or with someone and yet even in a crowd he can seem far away. Although he is open and friendly, this man is actually rather cautious about letting anyone get too close to his heart.
Oliver has a habit of humming or whistling, the tune matching his mood, especially when he is deep in thought or concentrating on a task. He also tends to stick his tongue out when concentrating, and licks his lips when anticipating something he knows, or thinks, he will enjoy. Oliver is not one given to strong drink, but he does enjoy a good tankard of mead at a big, sit down meal. Usually he is eating on the run, which is one of the reasons he loves fresh fruit. He can eat it one handed.
Oliver’s strength lies in his good humor, which has helped him recover from all the tremendous tragedy he has known in his life. Still, he bears pain in a way he doesn’t realize for he never lets anyone close. He can charm and entertain hundreds, but cannot seem to allow one person to get too close. In his heart is deep pain, which he hides behind a ready smile. His strength, therefore, is also his weakness. Oliver uses his wit to keep anyone who might seem to be getting under his skin at arm’s length.
Background:
Hometown: None, always traveling
Oliver started out in a home that was seen as prosperous and happy by society, but it was truly a terribly home environment, when his father was there. His mother was doting and loving, but his father was often drunk and abusive. She was tragically killed when Oliver’s father struck her in one of his drunken rages. He was left on a street corner and eventually adopted by a family of elves who ran a circus and minstrel group, The Aeravandal Players.
At age fifteen, Oliver endured yet another horrible tragedy. The circus had arrived outside a sizable town in Eyrel, which, unbeknownst to the Aeravandal family, had a large faction of elf haters. During the circus a human girl of the town was horribly and viciously attacked. In her shocked and traumatized state she said it had been elves who had done the foul deed when in fact it had been a group of callow youths who had been harassing her for weeks. She feared further abuse if she spoke the wealthy boys’ names so she lied.
Catastrophically, the truth did not come out until after a mob, led by five elf haters, including the three boys who had actually attacked the girl, came to the circus and began setting fire to the wagons and equipment. When the family and their friends and loved ones emerged from their wagons to defend themselves and their livelihood they were set upon by the mob. No one with Elvish blood was allowed to live, every member of Oliver’s family was either beaten to death or hanged. Many members of his extended family were also horribly beaten, some to their deaths, and in the aftermath Oliver was found unconscious, beaten unrecognizable and nearly dead. He had fought off five men who were attacking his mother, but more came to their aid and set upon young Oliver in overwhelming force.
When the sun had risen the next day the truth was known, but because of the influence of the boys‘ families nothing was done to bring justice to those . Oliver felt his life was over. The circus disbanded and, having no one, he sought training to become a warrior so he could exact revenge on those who had destroyed his life. His heart was stone, cold and hard. For the next ten years he traded his skills, which are many, to learn the way of the warrior. From various fighters, whether they were landed barons who needed a scribe or adventuring parties who needed a bard, or even an assassin’s guild that needed someone who could teach them how to scale walls, Oliver learned many ways to kill from whoever would teach him.
His own fighting style emerged as one that utilizes his acrobatics and athleticism in a hard charging and dynamically fluid attack that often leaves opponents dizzy. Oliver prefers two short swords as they are light and easily wielded, having little bulk. Through his travels Oliver hunted and killed three of the men who had been responsible for leading the attack on his family. Then, when engaged in a mission with an adventuring party, Oliver met a warrior from whom he knew he could learn much, but surprisingly the mysterious woman showed him ways of peace. The Way of the Master she called it. When Oliver asked about who this Master was she told him of a Man who had defeated all evil with one act of ultimate sacrifice. As Oliver learned more and more about this Jesus who was God made Man, he found his bitterness and rage melting away as well as his need for revenge. He forgave all who had ever harmed him, including his father, and stopped traveling for a time to try and figure out what he was going to do with his life.
That had been three years ago and after a couple months of deep introspection Oliver took to the road again, traveling as a bard who entertained, but who also sought to bring the love of God to all he met. Still Oliver is haunted by what happened so many years ago, not wishing to expose himself to the pain of loss ever again. Now in Phelatia, having survived a horrible earthquake, Oliver is seeking to help those in crisis, and there are plenty of them.
Education: extensive, both in books and in life
Religion: strong faith in God sustains him, enjoys personal relationship with Christ
Finances: hand to mouth, no real assets save his lute, his talent and his smile
Family:
Mother: (adopted) Inethiel Aerevandal (deceased)
Relationship with her: was very close, very loving, this is true of whole family
Father: Verion Aerevandal (deceased)
Relationship with him: (deceased)
Siblings: Castien, brother (deceased)
Aranion, brother (deceased)
Araya, sister (deceased)
Children of siblings: none
Other extended family: Many humans, halflings, dwarves; all members of Aeravandal Players (Oliver has lost touch with all who survived the attack.)
Attitude:
Oliver enjoys helping others and sharing the love of God, but he is most at ease when he is entertaining somehow, be it one on one or to a crowd. He is at home wherever he is when playing his lute or is performing some acrobatic feat, he particularly enjoys walking on his hands. He is confident and outgoing, easily making friends wherever he goes, but as has been mentioned, he becomes ill at ease whenever anyone seems to be trying to get too close. He answers most questions about himself, but those about his thoughts or feelings are the ones that make him skittish.
Oliver tends to see the glass as half full, finding the silver lining around any cloud that might block the sun from his life. Finding the Lord and giving up his quest for vengeance has helped with that immensely. Still, his temper can flare when he sees a woman being ill treated. Oliver, although he will not admit this, takes it upon himself to come to the aid of any lady who seems in distress, whether she be two or a hundred and two. This has led to some fairly embarrassing moments for the bard, even a couple of legal entanglements from which he found it hard to extricate himself. Consequently, Oliver is a bit less impulsive about leaping into a fray, but no less staunch in his defense of ladies from all walks of life.
Oliver would describe himself as an acrobat and entertainer extraordinaire, but ask him anything personal and he closes up like a miser’s purse strings. He says it’s his smile that draws the crowds, but it is his skill and talent that keeps them and opens their wallets. This is mostly true, but what he doesn’t seem to realize is that it’s his handsome face and well formed physique that draws the ladies to his impromptu performances and the ladies draw their men. The ladies purses open to encourage Oliver to stay a while, their men’s to encourage him to leave. The acrobat is mistakenly seen as a flirt, but he simply takes genuine interest in people. Again, Oliver is unaware of this belief he evokes, but even if he was he would not care. He cares a great deal for others, he just cares little about their opinions.
http://bp3.blogger.com/_BcAhLr85Pvs/RwQe3VGsFFI/AAAAAAAAO8k/eKttg9PolHY/s1600-h/neff1.jpg
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