Post by sqens on May 22, 2008 18:24:24 GMT -5
History:
Ratel Joté was born to a wealthy merchant family in the small port city of Yggar. He spent his first few years being taught the life of a trader and playing with children of similar background, not watched too carefully. This changed somewhat at the age of seven he began to display strange magical aptitudes. This was initially viewed with great pride, and a mentor was brought in to help him learn to control his abilities. And learn he did, quickly becoming a capable sorcerer. It helped, certainly, but it also caused harm. Ratel found great joy in using his newfound ability to play tricks on his peers and elders. He was sometimes disciplined, but most of his pranks were ignored, until, by accident, a child was thrown off the mansion's roof.
Realizing that it was no longer safe to raise him there and fearing for the political implications of his actions, Ratel was disowned and, with the help of the guard, banished from the city. Not wanting to give it up altogether, he shortened his surname to Jo and set off a vagabond. In the years that followed he honed his tricks and lived, sometimes by working and sometimes by stealing, until one day an artisan recognized him from his days in Yggar. He introduced himself as Hekkaer, and, recognizing Ratel's needs, offered to play a game of cards. Should Ratel win, he would be granted any one request. Should he lose, he would tell Hekkaer his story and become his apprentice. He greedily accepted. The game drew out, with Ratel sneaking in a spell at every opportunity, but Hekkaer seemed to always have the right card. After three hours, Ratel tuned his final card flat and raised his eyes to meet those of Hekkaer: “And now I will hear your story.”
Hekkaer was a master of many arts, but he would end up teaching Ratel only one. The boy desperately needed structure, and the slow, repetitive process of weaving was a perfect fit. He forbade the use of magic, insisting that perfect art can only come from one's hands, and kept an eye on Ratel at all times, lest he steal again or run away. Instead, to his surprise, Ratel embraced his new life, partially due to his respect for the first person to truly outwit him, and partially because he found comfort in his creations. So he stayed with Hekkaer, selling their wares and traveling the country for the full term of his apprenticeship.
During those years, Ratel saw what would eventually define his life. As he was walking a mountain pass between towns, he witnessed two armies clash in a valley below. One appeared to have the upper hand, but only slightly, when a great armored dragon appeared from behind the losing side and in one breath slew half of the other. He watched for as long as he could, nearly blinded by the sun's reflection in the dragon's armor, then continued on, vowing to one day serve that awesome leader. And when he finally said good-bye to his master, he went in search of the dragon, and eventually found him, but was turned away for not having brought a satisfactory sample of his craftsmanship. Undeterred, he found a place he could work, and spent the next two years creating an undeniable masterpiece. Using strips of various woods cut from the full length of their trees, he fashioned a globe thirty feet in diameter, based on the hundreds of maps he had collected in his travels. When it was finished he found a druid to enchant it so it would never break or burn, then shrunk it to fit in a bag of holding and went, once again, in search of Atarvalkkan. When he found him, he was taken in and sent to train with the other aspiring mages.
This lasted two days. First Weaver Mirali, a member of Atarvalkkan's inner circle, saw his globe and requested that he instead be sent to train under her. She taught him to weave magic as he had once woven straw and wood. He trained daily for five years, quickly developing a close relationship with Mirali, before being sent off on his first mission. The mission, overall, was a failure, but Ratel's portion was successful, gaining Atarvalkkan a key mining settlement. He was given more missions, and soon full commands, and within a year was made exarch.
Ratel and Mirali settles together, though they never started a family. The next few years appeared to be a calm moment in the Great Game: they were rarely called upon during this period. Eventually, though, the calm came to an end, and they were summoned to lead battalions in an important invasion. The battle was a victory, but Mirali was killed by a naga. In a fit to avenge her, Ratel attacked, but he too was bitten and almost killed before a stray arrow slew his opponent. As he grieved at the end of the battle, Atarvalkkan appeared and ordered him to take Mirali's sash – the symbol of the First Weaver.
Appearance:
A man of average height and light build, Ratel's piercing eyes and unkempt black hair look out of place in his dress of warm, distant-looking colors. His simple tan robe is adorned with a similarly colored vest with red sequins. From behind his shoulders falls a faded red cape. His right hand is covered with a tight black glove; his left hand is clean and bare. The most distinguishing piece, however, is his belt. It appears to be made of coarsely woven golden straw, but it flows like silk. It has a red glint that, on close examination, comes from dozens of tiny rubies dispersed throughout.
While he normally speaks slowly and intentionally, those who travel with him know him to display lapses of happiness and recklessness. It is at these points that he usually pulls out his larger items* and methodically re-shrinks them.
*Changed when I realized that I have absolutely no use for a collection of siege weapons. Specifics when inspiration strikes. Or when I decide to get a different third level spell.
Ratel Joté was born to a wealthy merchant family in the small port city of Yggar. He spent his first few years being taught the life of a trader and playing with children of similar background, not watched too carefully. This changed somewhat at the age of seven he began to display strange magical aptitudes. This was initially viewed with great pride, and a mentor was brought in to help him learn to control his abilities. And learn he did, quickly becoming a capable sorcerer. It helped, certainly, but it also caused harm. Ratel found great joy in using his newfound ability to play tricks on his peers and elders. He was sometimes disciplined, but most of his pranks were ignored, until, by accident, a child was thrown off the mansion's roof.
Realizing that it was no longer safe to raise him there and fearing for the political implications of his actions, Ratel was disowned and, with the help of the guard, banished from the city. Not wanting to give it up altogether, he shortened his surname to Jo and set off a vagabond. In the years that followed he honed his tricks and lived, sometimes by working and sometimes by stealing, until one day an artisan recognized him from his days in Yggar. He introduced himself as Hekkaer, and, recognizing Ratel's needs, offered to play a game of cards. Should Ratel win, he would be granted any one request. Should he lose, he would tell Hekkaer his story and become his apprentice. He greedily accepted. The game drew out, with Ratel sneaking in a spell at every opportunity, but Hekkaer seemed to always have the right card. After three hours, Ratel tuned his final card flat and raised his eyes to meet those of Hekkaer: “And now I will hear your story.”
Hekkaer was a master of many arts, but he would end up teaching Ratel only one. The boy desperately needed structure, and the slow, repetitive process of weaving was a perfect fit. He forbade the use of magic, insisting that perfect art can only come from one's hands, and kept an eye on Ratel at all times, lest he steal again or run away. Instead, to his surprise, Ratel embraced his new life, partially due to his respect for the first person to truly outwit him, and partially because he found comfort in his creations. So he stayed with Hekkaer, selling their wares and traveling the country for the full term of his apprenticeship.
During those years, Ratel saw what would eventually define his life. As he was walking a mountain pass between towns, he witnessed two armies clash in a valley below. One appeared to have the upper hand, but only slightly, when a great armored dragon appeared from behind the losing side and in one breath slew half of the other. He watched for as long as he could, nearly blinded by the sun's reflection in the dragon's armor, then continued on, vowing to one day serve that awesome leader. And when he finally said good-bye to his master, he went in search of the dragon, and eventually found him, but was turned away for not having brought a satisfactory sample of his craftsmanship. Undeterred, he found a place he could work, and spent the next two years creating an undeniable masterpiece. Using strips of various woods cut from the full length of their trees, he fashioned a globe thirty feet in diameter, based on the hundreds of maps he had collected in his travels. When it was finished he found a druid to enchant it so it would never break or burn, then shrunk it to fit in a bag of holding and went, once again, in search of Atarvalkkan. When he found him, he was taken in and sent to train with the other aspiring mages.
This lasted two days. First Weaver Mirali, a member of Atarvalkkan's inner circle, saw his globe and requested that he instead be sent to train under her. She taught him to weave magic as he had once woven straw and wood. He trained daily for five years, quickly developing a close relationship with Mirali, before being sent off on his first mission. The mission, overall, was a failure, but Ratel's portion was successful, gaining Atarvalkkan a key mining settlement. He was given more missions, and soon full commands, and within a year was made exarch.
Ratel and Mirali settles together, though they never started a family. The next few years appeared to be a calm moment in the Great Game: they were rarely called upon during this period. Eventually, though, the calm came to an end, and they were summoned to lead battalions in an important invasion. The battle was a victory, but Mirali was killed by a naga. In a fit to avenge her, Ratel attacked, but he too was bitten and almost killed before a stray arrow slew his opponent. As he grieved at the end of the battle, Atarvalkkan appeared and ordered him to take Mirali's sash – the symbol of the First Weaver.
Appearance:
A man of average height and light build, Ratel's piercing eyes and unkempt black hair look out of place in his dress of warm, distant-looking colors. His simple tan robe is adorned with a similarly colored vest with red sequins. From behind his shoulders falls a faded red cape. His right hand is covered with a tight black glove; his left hand is clean and bare. The most distinguishing piece, however, is his belt. It appears to be made of coarsely woven golden straw, but it flows like silk. It has a red glint that, on close examination, comes from dozens of tiny rubies dispersed throughout.
While he normally speaks slowly and intentionally, those who travel with him know him to display lapses of happiness and recklessness. It is at these points that he usually pulls out his larger items* and methodically re-shrinks them.
*Changed when I realized that I have absolutely no use for a collection of siege weapons. Specifics when inspiration strikes. Or when I decide to get a different third level spell.