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 Peter O'Neill

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ACP5ONeill

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Posts : 37
Join date : 2012-12-03
Age : 22
Location : Nebraska

Character sheet
Character Name: Peter O'Neill
Town: Galandor

PostSubject: Peter O'Neill   Wed Jan 02, 2013 4:20 pm

I was born and raised in the slums of the Human city Hillgate. I was instantly unwelcome, being the bastard child of my Elvish mother and Human father. My mother was a part of the elvish council. If it were discovered that she had a child of the likings of me, she would be removed from office and labeled an outcast. So, in order to make her life easy, she dumped me on my father and labeled him as a thief and murderer. That way he could never come back to any elfish city and claim that I was hers. Forced to run, my father took me to the lowest and most dangerous part of the Capital. There he worked as an inventor, and a carpenter trying to get enough Parons to feed me. Mainly, I would be kept in doors while my Father was at work. But every Sunday he would take me to the market to buy our supper. I remember walking through the masses of people. Everyone always cared a smile around me. One that was easily seen through, as it was their eyes that gave it away. The look of disgust and hatred poured from the eye sockets and down their pesky little fake smiles. At the time I didn't mind, but this was something that would grow and become less kind towards me. As time went by, life became more of a hardship. My father made me come to work with him for an extra hand. Being part elf, I was tall in stature and very strong for my age. This helped me with the vigorous tasks I was assigned to complete. I quickly became strong, and my fathers workers somewhat took a liking to me. However, they still only watched anytime the guards gave me a lick or two. My father tried pleading to them to stop but his words only seemed to make them enjoy what they were doing. Pretty soon they even took the whip on him for some good laughs.

By 18 we left this place. We moved into a farmhouse near the outer walls. There, my father still took to his inventions, and still he traveled back into the city to build people their homes. But life seemed to have let up a little. Two years went past, the happiest there could be. However, I remember one night. We were eating supper after I harvested the fields. I heard a rustle in the bushes, but thought nothing of it. I finished my meal and was about to put the dishes away when men and orcs sprinted towards us throwing torches everywhere. They yelled bastard child and other such volger things as they came and beat me and my father. My father somewhat held his own, but the orcs were too strong and pinned him down. They forced him to watch the other humans beat me to an inch of my life. I just remember the look on his face before i woke up a day later in a sleeping bag. I could barely move. I had to fight through the pain just to move my neck and see my house in smoking ashes. I heard someone walking up beside me, the way my head could not turn. Thoughts flashed through my head that it was over. This was the end. Then drops fell on my face. More and more drops of what seemed like water. I thought it was raining but I wasn't wet anywhere else. I forced my head to turn to see my father, with blood all over his body, crying over my head. I have never seen my father cry before. When he saw me staring back into his eyes, a sort of smile came to his eyes. But one that was replaced with a frown of grief. That night I learned that the blood he was covered in was not his own. I was passed out for three days. Two of which he spent tracking down those men and slicing their throats. He was never seemed happy after that day.

Later, he decided to teach me to fight, and how to wield a bow. He told me to feel my elvish blood flow through me and to use my instinct before i release. I pulled the string back, took aim, then released. The arrow went and hit a tree 8 feet to the left of the target. I looked at my father for helpful tips, but all I saw was him laughing. After a few minutes of humiliation. He told me to relax and let go of my feelings. I didn't understand at first. And my shot did improve, but I still shot far off from the target. With a hand on my shoulder he told me with practice I comes protection. The next day, he showed up with two bulls as i was repairing what remained of our once humble home. He looked at me and threw me my bow. He said I must learn to practice in the eye of danger. I simply answered with "Okay..?" To that he just laughed and threw me in the bulls pin. It turned its head and didn't seem to bother. Thank god! My father yelled at me "Shoot the bull before it runs you over!" Then he threw a bucket of boiling hot water on the bull causing it to squeal and take charge. I wasn't ready at all, I grabbed my arrow as fast as i could, but my butterfingers made it fall on the ground. Before I had time to pick it back up, the bull was 2 feet in front of me. I jumped to the left to avoid being killed then summersaulted to the arrow, knocked it, aimed, then released it. To my surprise, it went straight into the bulls chest. It fell but still slid. I jumped to the side to avoid being stabbed by the horns. After a second of freaking out that I was about killed. My father yelled out "Good job son!" After that, target practice was the easiest thing ever. Later He taught me how to sword fight. I guess there is more human blood in me because that came quickly.

Four years went by. I was now 24, well beyond the years in which I had to have my own place to call home and a wife. Pa told me to get the hell out and start my own god damn family. That of corse was in his words. I packed up all I owned, which was simply; a blanket, my bow, sword, and some food that was left over from the harvest. Not knowing what to do exactly, i followed a river to a fishing town. There I worked until I had enough Parons to buy my own fishing boat. I sailed out in the sea as far as I could go before it became night. I told myself one last line. I through it in waited about 10 minutes because dark was upon me, then reeled in. Two feet from the boat a marlin hit! I couldn't believe it! She hit hard, and actually about pulled me overboard. I released more line and locked myself into place. When I was ready, I started to real in. But instead of me pulling it in, it was dragging the boat. It drove me out to sea farther then I have ever been before. After 8 hours of exhausting back and forth play, I had gotten close enough for a shot with my bow. I tied the string to the boat, pulled out my bow, aimed, and before I took the shot, something caught my eye. Land. It was pulling me back into shore. Then quickly I saw these massive walls that were parsley torn down. I looked in such aw that I had almost forgot about the marlin. I looked back, aimed, then before I relieved the line snapped and it was gone.

I was so angry I fell down and started to beat the deck of the boat. Just then I remembered the walls. I set course toward the mysterious fort. As I drew near, I realized it was much too large to be a simple fort. There was a gap in one of the walls, made for a shipping dock. Thoughts flooded my mind about how I should NOT go in, and how there could be robbers or worse.. The rebel army. Curiosity drove me forward still. I got through the wall's sea gate and what I saw was insane. This place was old, really old. most of the houses were falling apart, and some were even burnt down. It looked as though it were raided some time ago, and just left to erode away. Not a sound was made. It was a complete ghost town. I set anchor and made my way around the town. There were only a few buildings that still lay untouched. The library, the butcher shop, and what appeared to be a place where people go to become a member. I was about to go back to my ship when I realized, where would I go? Back to the fishing town to be made fun of? No. This was my best bet to having a happy life. My father taught me how to build houses and furniture, and how to farm. I could just live here and rebuild. So that's where I live at age 28, in an abandoned town called Galandor, trying to rebuild, and find out what has happened. Only the future can tell what mysteries are set out for me.
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Posts : 97
Join date : 2012-12-02

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Character Name: Rhageth Stellhorn
Town:

PostSubject: Approved   Fri Feb 01, 2013 12:55 am

Interesting story, for a half-breed, haha good job ACP.
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Confessor_Tom

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Posts : 131
Join date : 2013-01-08
Location : England, UK

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Character Name: People call him "Varg"
Town: He walks until he feels tired

PostSubject: Re: Peter O'Neill   Fri Feb 01, 2013 7:55 am

I must agree with damn mate,
its nice to see a half-breed character but even more surprising is the elven side of your family is nasty and you hate them. very good tyo see a totally different method of ancestry there, I hope to see this character and his some what amazing DIY skills humm? lol
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