Post by Amarud on Sept 3, 2022 9:21:19 GMT -5
Amarud
"A man weighted by possessions cannot ride his horse, but a man with nothing will fail to find a stable." ~Amarud of King's Valley
Gender:Male
Age:26 Race:Human
Nationality: King's Valley/Thunderhoof Village
Appearance: Hooves trample the open plains, an amber sea of waist high grain parts for horses recklessly galloping across fertile farmland. Upon the broad backs of these majestic beasts of war, rests a man of ill repute, his face hardened over years of violent excursions, with scars that have not yet healed. Armored steeds carry the intimidating bulk of the warband’s forces through sectioned fields, breaking fence posts left in jagged splinters across the mud. A single rider pulls his leg from a leather stirrup, stepping down, his frame of about six feet nearly matching that of his horse. The man’s eyes are dark, with signs of intelligence lost in pitch. A stern gaze rolls over houses made of wood and straw. Pleased with all he sees, a smile finally cracks the stoic face obscured by matted black hair. He raises his massive arms overhead in a single sweeping motion, and with biceps the size of tree trunks he wordlessly approaches the village with the ever so patient horde. Silence soon gives way to this dreadful cacophony of continuous violence bathing all in waves of flesh and clashing swords. Dressed in loose rags and little else, Amarud finds often himself past the battle lines, lost in the undertow of imminent carnage.
Personality: I can feel the ground tremble every single time my detachment charges like wild men into lines overburdened with shields and spears. Their archers set the rain upon us during these tense moments I so love. Adrenaline slams against the walls of my heart, splashing through my open veins like molten metal. I am driven by this terrible nature of mine, often taken by reckless impulses giving rise to sudden outbursts of foolish bravery. I must be indistinguishable from the beasts I ride upon, to strike fear into those who stand before me.
Ideals: A lost man is born again across the steppes, at the mercy of elements unknown to him. He is a vessel, a body rightfully unbothered by the malicious musings of idle spirits. I am free upon the open plains, riding into the endless green yonder, smitten by nature’s beauty and her waiting splendor, for her bounty belongs in my hands. I am meant to wander with the force of a violent storm. The hooves of my horse are accompanied by the sounds of rolling thunder along meadows kissed with sunlight and touched by rain. Death and stillness must mean the same to us, and so we take to the open world with the fury of a hurricane, seizing all that men keep hidden. There is no joy in empty hands and a sedentary life. If you hear my horse approaching, it means you are far too still.
Faith: Revere that which remains free to roam with violent strength and unbound stride, to expend powers freely and trample that which stands idle. I dare not rest where horses cannot travel, and I shall avoid land overtaken by a thicket made impassible. I must keep moving from places where grass refuses to grow, until I am far from barren wastes made inhospitable. To flee a place untouched by sunlight, or a dense mire too treacherous, I must keep few possessions, for the spirit would prefer to travel light, free from burden and worry. Ginma created these lands for the hooves of my horses, and for this we give thanks by riding across his natural creation in reverence of his works. We will take Ginma's generous bounty, and offer it to the Centaur, his form given flesh and bone.
History: That fateful day came dressed in an ominous shroud of white and gray that obscured her beautiful morning sun, her light shone upon my face, like a gentle kiss from a lover once embraced. I could remember stillness in the air, followed by an unpleasant quiet. The tribe’s prized horses and pack animals were hard to control; we lost a few mules and oxen, as some managed to break from their posts. I had no time to go after them, my responsibilities were far from the land I was bound to. I simply began to tear down my tent, a mundane task made difficult due to sudden gusts of wind. I did not heed nature’s warnings, in fact, I did not intend to stay for very long, I was needed elsewhere.
The hooves of our Calvary cracked the ground with the force of thunder as lightning split the sky above us with bright flashes. The storm worsened as we rode, the bloated clouds could not wait to spew such a torrent upon us. I followed my brothers through rain and fog until we met with those taken by an ongoing battle in swamp lands to the west. Eager and Restless, we charged to the sound of horns, our voices heard from afar, a signal to allies already locked in combat. Unbeknownst to those of us lost in the rear of our chaotic formation, the terrain became too slick, and we suddenly found ourselves upon an uneven slope. The reins of our horses were held tight in a desperate effort to pull back. Fear struck hard enough, a lethal blow that caused many to tumble down a steep hillside. The tide of battle failed to turn as we were promised, and I was caught in waves of carnage. Pushed through battle lines already in disarray, I would lose my balance, my leg caught in putrid swamp waters.
protect him at all cost. (can’t use discord anymore so making use of this here)
