Post by audric yates on May 24, 2016 15:38:35 GMT -5
| AUDRIC YATES | SPIRIT WIELDER |
PERSONALITY I'm terribly sorry for this inconvenience, officer. I am Audric's brother-in-law, Cyrille. I understand you wish to know what happened, and why he did what he did but, I think you should know about him first and foremost. Audric is by no means a violent man. He takes things with as many thoughts as he can hold, and sorts them out at his own leisure. He's more a thinker than a fighter, but he can throw a mean punch if he's angry. I've seen him break our dinner tables a few times. He rarely ever gets mad, you know. He may get irritated if something doesn't make sense, and try to work it out, but his patience - though grand - can wear out at some point. My son oft witnessed his uncle sit down at his workshop and stare at a blueprint for a complicated item. A week later, he started to prepare and finished a day overdue. And no, I can gurantee he would never use something he crafted as an actual weapon. He trusts his customers and if they misuse his products, he will give them their money back and destroy what they asked for. They might remain on his customer list as a reminder, but he'd never stomach seeing... My wife says he was witness to some violent acts as a young man, and was affected terribly. He was always curious about the family job; always asking questions and sticking his nose into manuals and books. He wasn't chipper nor upbeat, but the genuine interest was always present. It was somewhere around his twentieth birthday that the accident happened. I'll explain that on the way to the station - Audric, Audric! Hey, hey, hey! Don't cry. You're going to be fine. "Cyrille, look at all this blood. Look at what SHE did to me!" Shhh. She's gone now. There's nobody here but us and this kind officer. She is a lady, but she isn't her, I swear. There's another man by that car there, brother. Why don't you go talk to him while the nurses clean you up? Before you speak, he is not mentally ill. We've taken him to doctors with his permission and they have found nothing wrong with him whatsoever. That woman he mentioned? We've seen her, but... Would you believe my brother is haunted by a ghost?
APPEARANCE Underneath the helmet and armor is a titan with a dangerous, albeit wrinkled, physique. With muscles that would make a bodybuilder buy him a tankard, he'd rather lift a barrel just to show off. The only hair he has left is that of his snow white beard and mustache, which he let grow for years. He'll trim it once a birthday, but he enjoys how it turned it out. His eyes, which are only seen indoors, are a shade of deep emerald green. He does not like this color, and tends to avoid mirrors because of it. He claims seeing his own eyes makes him nauseous. Apart from the armor, Audric avoids clothing on the upper body, settling for a pair of sweatpants and cotton socks for days at home. Should his family invite him for dinner, he'll break out his old trunk and slap on a custom-made dress suit with a red snowflake pin on the left breast. The undershirt would be plain white and the rest of the attire a deep brown. A major thing one may notice are the amount of scars on Audric's body. There's at least one of every type of laceration and a few bullet holes that were lucky enough to strike his arms and legs, but... The one Audric can't stand is on the back of his left palm. INVENTORY ○ ANASTASIA ARMOR - Named after Audric's only child, The Anastasia Armor is a unique spin on traditional viking combat attire. A two pronged helmet sits atop Audric's head, with the two ivory appendages curving down and sticking outward as opposed to in and skyward. The forehead is covered by a removable cross-shaped guard that shields the nose and eyebrows. It, along with the horn's bases and lower portions, are decorated with a series of Celtic symbols. There are shoulder pieces that resemble spiked shields, connected by leather straps that merge into the body of the armor, which is simply a loose leather shirt with large amounts of fur around the neck, backside, and shoulders. The rest of the armor is made up of cloth arm wraps, leather slacks and steel-toed shoes with kneecaps. This armor has no real benefits in battle, and is purely decorative. Audric wears it regardless. ○ GRISHA WARHORN - A family heirloom. The Grisha Warhorn is named after the first man to give birth to the Yates Family. While not the original warhorn, the Yates Family have practiced crafting with wood and handing down the incarnation to the successor of the family. The horn was originally made with Elephant Tusk, Buffalo Hair, and Crocodile Leather. Current versions are more friendly in that the tusk is replaced with Willow Tree, the hair from horses, and the leather from cow. Audric's version is unique in that a strange Celtic Bear symbol has been etched into it - the traditional etching was that of two Keys crossing each other inside a circle. This was the Yates family crest for a long while. ○ PORTABLE COOKING SUPPLIES - A nomadic lifestyle is free. Where one lays down is home for the night. Where one swims is where they bathe. A kitchen is often the hardest to find, and these supplies make it easier. Pots, pans, spatulas, a table, and nearly the entire culinary arsenal can be found in this pack. There are even jars in case there are leftovers. ○ CAMPING GEAR - It's quite obvious what this pack consists of. A tent, tools for a firepit, some pillows and even toilet paper are a given. Audric has included a large folding chair in case logs don't feel right. BIOGRAPHY My brother is mistaken. Though my family thinks I'm haunted, it is far from the truth. My name is Audric Gregory Yates. You may not understand that I am speaking in Russian, but I trust whatever translator you are to use will help you understand. I am writing this letter from deep within the frozen north of a land thought to be untouched by human hands. I write this from the heart of the Alpine Steppe, in the Digital World. I have fled from my home some years ago, and cannot go back. The incident my brother spoke of to that officer is what started it all. I was only twenty-eight at the time, but I think I should take you further back, further to my first days as a greenhorn smith. My life prior to taking up the hammer and anvil was one of wonder and amazement. Obviously, I was too young to assist my father and his workers but, every day after school, my sister Oriane and I fled to the workshop up the street and just stood by and watched with wide eyes. My friends oft followed me, sometimes curious and sometimes there just to see what I was up to. Even my bullies followed us around and asked us questions. I've seen dirks be crafted, shields be polished and great axes be sharpened. Armor of all sizes and colors graced the walls and displays of the cobblestone building - on my tenth birthday, I helped work behind the counter and made a pretty ruble. The customer even handed the small wad to me in a small onyx-colored cigar tin. I still carry that with me. The time in-between was so memorable, I dream a different day nearly every night. I studied well, I took up a cooking class and had a few girlfriends. I think one of them was... Well, transitioning from being male and, while I lost a romantic interest in her, I supported her and even made some money to help pay for her surgery. I'd be lying if I said I missed her. Last I heard, she got herself a husband and adopted a few children. I'm happy for her, truly. She goes by Esfir. If I saw her today, I'd give her a hug and try not to cry. We did become that close. Now, where was I...? Right, our senior years in school. Like I said, schooldays were totally normal. Things now were vastly different. I stopped dating around the first year after learning a few of the kids in my Science class went around spreading rumors. They said I only dated to manipulate and that's far from true. It went so far that I wound up being suspended for a month after breaking one of the kids' noses. That's when women stopped looking at me entirely. There were a few that feigned interest in me, but only used me to stab their current boyfriend or girlfriend in the back. That's how I got these scars. I think I should tell you about the bullet hole on my left palm. This happened around the end of my eleventh year, but I think you should know the events leading up to it. My brother was mistaken again. He said the incident occurred around my twentieth birthday, but he's refering to one I will mention later. At the time of writing this, I am currently fifty-nine. My first year of education began when I was only six years old. I was accepted into middle school around twelve, and became a senior at sixteen. I graduated close to my eighteenth birthday. In my school, there were twins, a brother and sister. They hated their real names, so they went by Oleg and Olga. We all knew their names, including the staff, and so we never addressed them as such out of respect. Our school was heavily built on respect. If someone asked you kindly of a request, you'd do it without question. We even helped each other with our homework if there was extra time. I digress, and I apologize. Oleg and Olga had enrolled mid-semester of our second year. That sounds weird of me to say that; our Principal at the time was an American and he somehow managed to persuade the Board of Education... I think I'm using American terms now... The Ministry! He got them to use an American version of labeling our education levels. That only lasted for a few years. Again, I'm trailing off, but I apologize. The Ol Twins, as we called them, became fast friends with quite a few people. My bullies hated them, and often sent them crying to the Nurse's Office at the start of every day. We took turns delivering their schoolwork to them, and even had lunch in the Office. This kept on for a good two months, and things only grew sour as they say. Myself and a few others had offered to walk them home and help them study for any surprise quizzes - our teachers were predictable with those. Not even a quarter into the twenty-minute walk, everyone's favorite bully, and summoner of my scars, came up to us with a gun. The young woman was known as Freida and had serious temper issues. She started talking about how she hated the twins were friends with everyone and started accusing them of trying to manipulate the staff. She called them terrorists and racists and words I don't want to say without raising a few flags. Before anyone could talk, she cocked the gun back and aimed at Olga. Oriane pushed her out of the way, but she changed targets and shot Oleg in the shoulder. There was a long pause. Freida had no idea what she just did and dropped the gun before running away into the nearby woods. We carried the twins home and explained to their father about what happened. We never saw Frieda until Knowledge Day. For those of you who don't know, Knowledge Day is the first day of September, and involves first graders attending school for the first time, They participate in an assembly but, everyone loves when the bell rings. A first year female is chosen to sit on the shoulders of an 11th year pupil and parade around and ring the first year bell. It was a good day to teach the new students about what school was about and what lessons we took. There were smiles all throughout the day until it was time to head home. It was just myself and the twins again - our group had plans for the day and I had nothing to do but head to the shop. I started working there just after middle school and was learning how to make prop swords and daggers. I even began to work on a custom suit of armor. Yes, I had walked them to their house and said goodbye. Everything was perfectly fine until Frieda appeared from around the corner with the same gun in her hand. She said no words. I tried to calm her down, but she shot me in the hand. The twins had noticed from out of the window and immediately dialed for the police. I was sent to the hospital and... this is where my story goes crazy. I'll shorten these next few years as much as I can. I had recovered after a few months and went on with life as normal. I slowly noticed that I stopped talking as much and my friends started to worry. I told them I was fine. I finished my suit of armor a little after Graduation Day and started to work full time in the shop. I named the armor after the first child of Esfir; Anastasia. As for my sister, she actually got married during her eleventh year and had a son - Cyrille Jr. Her husband was actually a close friend of mine and I was more than proud to have him as a brother. This is where Cyrille's mention of the incident occurred. On my twentieth birthday, I received a family heirloom and instructions to recreate it using my father's shop. The item in question is a warhorn named Grisha. Using the materials given to me, and after putting it all together, I presented it to my father. I was told that, should I ever have a child, I shall wait until they are twenty and have them create this horn again. I decided to polish up my armor and work on another prop. I fell asleep in the shop until Oriane came and woke me up. I can't remember what time it was but, upon leaving, I noticed something about the horn. In my sleep, I apparently carved a bear into it. Nobody seemed to complain, as it fit the design of the original horn itself. However, my sister and her husband had noticed that, whenever I was invited to spend the night with them, I kept talking in my sleep to this strange woman- the ghost Cyrille mentioned. Nothing extreme happened until eight years later. We were celebrating Cyrille Jr's indoor birthday in the afternoon. There was music and great food and a wonderful time in the heart of the winter. I had left a little around 3 PM and, towards the ninth hour of night, I had finished up a small order and made the call to the company of whom asked for it. I was still wide awake and full of energy, so I stupidly decided to blow the horn. I don't remember what happened, but I was in the streets, covered in blood and wielding a crude wooden club. On the ground before me was an out-of-breath Frieda. Cyrille was there, as were a few officers. I listened to him and made way to the car. Attached to the back of the driver's seat was a strange device. I plucked it. I vanished from the backseat and wound up in some strange wooded snowland. I've been living here since that day, and I have too many memories I wish to forget about. I say I cannot go home, but that is untrue. I've become adept at going to and from this world and the real. I've re-assembled my home and took things I needed and wanted. And now I send this letter to nobody in particular. Seek me if you wish! I have stories to tell! | NICKNAME the polar knight, frostspark, mr. glacier AGE fifty-nine GENDER male HEIGHT est 6'11" WEIGHT est 293 lbs BIRTHPLACE lensk, sakha republic, russia DIGIVICE d-tector. CREST reliability PLAYED BY faceless |
[i]SHOVEL KNIGHT, polar knight[/i] as [i]audric yates[/i]
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