I hope the style I've used is okay. I understand that we will be roleplaying in third person past tense and I am capable of doing so. Shem's roots just popped into my head in the first person and after that it was easier to write the entire profile like he was talking to me instead of as though I was talking about him. I'm rather surprised that I wanted to write his profile this way; usually I prefer writing in third person. I am very fond of dialogue though and this is all written in Shem's voice so may that's part of it.
Name: Shem Adare of Ivria
Sex: Male
Age: 19
Occupation: Hmmm, I'm not sure what you mean by that. I can't say I'm occupied with much of anything at the moment. I can fix your boots if you like and you've got the tools and extra leather on you, but I'm not making a living out of it. Right now it's mostly day to day things like helping haul bricks or fiddling with sums or whatever else will earn me a few coins. You might call me a wanderer. I'm not ready to be tied down just yet.
Status & Rank: I'm merely a lowly commoner. Oh fine, maybe not lowly but Da was never rich and Ma was a dancer who ran off when I was three which doesn't get me many kind looks from the parent's of the girls I try to court. I suppose it could be worse though; Ma could have taken me with her and then I'd never get on those nervous mothers' good sides.
Roots & Origin: Well it's a bit of a story, but I'll tell it to you if you want and you've got a bit of time heavy on your hands. See, my ma was named Celka and she was a dancer traveling with a troupe of players. Blue skirts, Da would tell me, blue skirts and gold bells around her ankles. He also told me she was tall, like me, and that her hair was dark brown like mine instead of reddish like his but it's the blue skirts and gold bells that he remembers most because when he remembers her she's dancing.
She grew up with the troupe, I guess; her da, Rurik, was the sort of headman of them all. He decided where they all went and how long they stayed and things like that. They say he was tremendously strong too, and that he could bend the blacksmith's iron fire poker like it was greenwood.
He nearly bent my da too, when he found out my da was courting his daughter. He'd been hoping his girl'd turn the head of some rich merchant and da was just a cobbler poor enough that he couldn't even afford the leather to fix his own boots. At eighteen he was a year younger than ma too and Rurik was certain that he'd never amount to anything. My girl'll marry a man with a full purse and a full pantry, he told my poor da, grabbing him by the back of the collar and holding him up like a kitten by the scruff of it's neck. And you've got neither! Then he tossed my poor da out on his ears like he weighed nothing at all.
Da picked himself right back up though. Celka had him head over heels in love with him and even a man who could bend iron bars wasn't going to stop him from doing everything he could to get her to fall just as much in love with him as he was with her. She was already half there too; there'd been men who'd tried to woo her before but none who'd ever stood up to her da. She was flattered by his devotion and did everything she could to encourage him. He'd go to watch her dance and she'd look at him the whole time she twirled her blue skirts and shook her bare feet to make the bells ring.
She made the troupe a lot of money with her dancing. People would throw silver into the hats when she was finished instead of the copper pennies all the fiddlers and singers collected. The pay in my da's town was especially good where people there were starved for pretty things and entertainment. They'd even throw silver for the flutists and great grandma who read palms. Rurik couldn't resist the lure of a silver piece, even if he didn't want his daughter near that penniless cobbler. The troupe came through Da's village about once a month and he was there waiting for Ma every time.
Da kept busy when Ma wasn't there too. Rurik had stung him when he'd thrown him out for being poor. He set himself to earn enough money to keep Ma happy and fed for as long as she lived. The hours he worked nearly killed him. Every morning he'd wake up at dawn and go to the center of town where he'd deliver repaired shoes and call out for more customers until suppertime. Then he'd carry all the shoes he'd collected back to his little house and work until nearly midnight to fix them all. The next day he'd start all over again.
Even if his own shoes weren't mended, his fingers were clever enough and the new soles he gave the shoes stayed on tight and didn't stretch. People began to talk to their neighbors about the good cobbler they'd found and soon people from other villages began to trickle in. Da took their boots like everyone else's and returned them just as quickly. The money poured in.
After a few months of working from dawn till far after dark my da was sure he'd be able to keep my mother and whatever children they might have happy for a long while. The orders for repairs didn't stop coming either, he just took a little more time and caught himself a little more sleep. The day before he went to see Rurik again he bought himself a new pair of tall, butter-soft boots fine enough for any man to envy.
You think that pretty shoes and a handful of coins is enough for my daughter? Rurik roared at him when he went to ask for Celka's hand in marriage, You're still nothing but a cobbler. She's finer than you'll ever be! And with that he lifted the entire table up and nearly tipped it over right on my da. Get out! Never come back!
My poor da, what was he to do now? He knew Rurik would never let him marry Celka. The only thing left to do was try and convince her to run away with him. That night he waited on the fringe of the crowd gathered to watch the troupe perform. When he blue skirts finished swirling he stole up to her and whispered his plan in her ear, his eyes darting around looking for Rurik the whole time. She took his hand and nodded and together they made their way off into the night.
Da knew it wouldn't be long before Rurik guessed what had happened and came looking to get his daughter back. He took the money he'd earned and the few things he had and bought a small shop in a town called Ivria well away from his old one. He smoothed out the wooden floor and hung up a new sign for his business and she used her blue skirts to make curtains for the windows. They were happy, for a time, and when I was born a little over a year after they'd run away my da was as proud as a man could be.
Life wasn't easy for my ma though. She'd never planted a garden in her life, or cooked a meal, or changed a diaper. The village women looked askance at the way she wore her hair and the way she liked to walk down the street swinging her hips and moving as though she were about to start dancing. Da never scolded her though, even when the dinner was burnt and the dishes were less than clean and the buttons on his shirt weren't mended. He'd just shrug and wipe away her frustrated tears and tell her the neighbors were busybodies and that he liked his onions on the dark side anyways and that she was enough for him just the way she was.
He wasn't enough for her though. When I was three another troupe rolled colorfully into town. That's my first memory, actually. I remember her pushing our blue curtains aside and peering out the window at them while she shifted from bare foot to bare foot. Then she turned back and looked at me and looked out the window again. The next morning she was gone along with the troupe.
Da was never angry at her for leaving. He'd always been a practical person and had counted himself among the lucky that she'd ever come with him in the first place. When she left he wept but picked me up into his lap and told me we'd get on just fine by ourselves and she'd be happier just like we'd be. He bounced me on his knee and I giggled and tugged at his beard, too young to really understand. We did it though, just me and Da for another fifteen years.
Appearance: Well everyone always said Ma was beautiful and Da wasn't bad himself when he was younger so I guess the gods decided I should get a bit from each of them too. I'm good looking enough to make the girls like me even if their mothers don’t but I'm nothing special either. My hair is dark brown and a little curly like Ma's. Da always cut it short when I was little so he wouldn't have to brush it and once I got old enough to do it myself I let it grow out a little but I still like to keep it so I don't have to bother with it much. I got Celka's eyes too, dark blue with big irises and long lashes, but they're in my da's face that's squarish and a bit boyish. The girls call it cute.
I'm a little on the tall side too, like my ma was. The year I was fifteen I grew so fast my bones hurt and I stretched till I was twig thin. Da would watch me bolt my entire supper in the time it took him to chew a bite of his and then mutter that horses ate less. After a year like that I finally stopped growing and my food started going into muscle instead of height. I'm still a little slim and my shoulders aren't the broadest around but I'm strong enough to do a good day's work and that's what matters to me.
I'm not too picky about what I wear. When you don't have much coin its hard to be picky. As long as I have a shirt, a pair of breeches, and maybe a tunic I'm happy. When I get the chance or the choice I'll wear green but most of the time its whatever color costs the least. I'm a northern boy, so you'd think I wouldn't mind the cold but I hate it. If there's even a chill in the air my cloak comes out and over my shirt and tunic, which I like loose, and if I'm lucky I'll have a pair of gloves with me too.
Strengths:
-I'm fairly sharp if I do say so myself. I learn things fairly quickly and usually I don't need to have things explain more than once.
-I'm good with my hands. I whittle, I know most of the knots the sailors in Maloren do, and I like making things.
-I get along with people well (except children) and I'm good at getting other people to like me. It's useful if I'm trying to talk my way out of a fight.
-I'm a fairly good runner, especially over long distances.
Weaknesses:
-I'm no good in a brawl, or any sort of fight. I never learned to fight and I don't want to either.
-I can't win the verbal fights either. I get mad or upset and my tongue gets tied.
-I'm no good at all with children. I've never had anything against them but they just don't like me. I've never been able to tell why.
-I can't cook at all. Everything I've ever tried to make ends up black and smoking or just refuses to get hot at all.
-I pick up bad habits like some people pick apples. Luckily, I usually drop one as soon as I find another but I'm always nursing one. Right now it's biting my nails. A few months ago I couldn't stop whistling and for a long time it was cleaning under my nails with my knife. I don't mean to start doing them; they just sort of happen.
-I trust people a bit too easily. It's gotten me in trouble more than once in Maloren and a few times before that too. Part of me knows when I shouldn't be trusting someone, but the other part always gives them the benefit of the doubt.
Magic: No magic for me.
Personality: I'm a good fellow. I'll get along with almost anyone fairly well and I can count the real enemies I've made on one hand. I keep a cool head most of the time and I don't lose my temper easily. I like to laugh and I try and look for the good things in the bad like Da taught me. I've only ever had a few friends who I was very close too, but I've made many who I trust well enough and talk with well enough.
It’s a good thing I make friends easily too because I'm not a fighter. I don't fight well and I don't like to fight either. The day I got my first black eye, I think I was seven, my Da took me home, showed me how to throw a good punch, and told me if I ever did he'd deal me worse than a black eye. I haven't really found a need to fight since. I don't have any of the battle scars that make the ladies swoon but then again I can string words together enough to make 'em laugh a bit which is more than a lot of those rugged types can do.
Speaking of ladies, I get along with them pretty well too. I play it honest though. I've seen what happens to the smooth tongued lads who talk a girl into their bed while the girl's da isn't looking; either they end up with a knife to their back until they say I do or they end up with a knife in their back. I'm aiming for a good long life where neither of those things happens to me.
History: After Ma left it was just me and Da for a long time. I grew up in his workshop while he mended shoes and when I got older he had me do little things to help him out. He saved enough up to send me to school, which I liked well enough. I learned my letters and my numbers and enough reading, writing and sums to get me hired by the occasional clerk who needs a hand. Life was pretty good. We didn't have everything but I always had shoes on my feet, clothes that were warm enough, and enough to eat.
Da and I always got along well. He'd never been around children before and was never sure how he should act around them so he settled for treating me like an adult. That suited both of us. Instead of scoldings I got explanations and if I really did something wrong he'd ignore me for a while, which terrified me more than the threat of being whipped.
When I was seventeen he sat me down for a long talk, which he'd been doing for years whenever he had something to say, but this one he was more serious than all the others. He asked me if I wanted to be a cobbler. I told him no, that I wanted to see things before I settled down. He nodded, not seeming disappointed at all. I think he always knew I was too much like my ma to just settle down right off.
He said I didn't have much chance in the village either. Folk had never really stopped talking about Ma and like I said before, the mothers in the village didn't take kindly to "that woman's" son courting their daughters and the fathers didn't trust me enough to hire me either. He said I'd be hard pressed to find work or a wife in the village that had been home all my life.
So I left with my da's blessing and a good share of his money as well. I've been drifting south for the last two years, hopping from town to town and job to job. I figure some day I'll find a village that seems like the one from me and a girl who likes me too and then I'll settle down. For now I'm in Maloren, where I can't imagine finding someone to marry but where there are jobs aplenty for someone with a strong back. I've got a fair amount saved up now, though I'm not sure where I'll go next. The gods'll see that I go where I need to, right?
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Phew! Hope that's all right but tell me if anything isn't okay and I'll see what I can do.
That was awesome. I'm so impressed! :D :D :D
I probably wouldn't have made you re-write it in third person because I didn't specify... And besides that was so completely... Gah! I loved it.
That easily has my approval.
Woah, first person style... total awesomeness. I think I might steal it, I hope you don't mind :D