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 Rav Darkeyes, Child of the Night 
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Post Rav Darkeyes, Child of the Night
Requirements to Submit:

Name: - Rav, Darkeyes

Age:- 24

Gender: - M

Skills: At least 3 lines of elaboration for each skill type.

Theft: Rav always wondered the streets of Urû'baen stealing what he could. He would steal food, scrolls, and books from horse carts and he knows the streets of Urû'baen.


Sword: He never really trained with it, however if quickly found himself to be somewhat good. His reflexes and dexterity are excellent but he currently lacks control and style. Necessity has taught him to defend himself.


Magic: He was schooled as a child by a magical rat (probably an elf in shapeshift form) and knows some of the basics of magic. He has the ability to read the minds of animals and some people, but he is not yet proficient with the minds of people. He knows how to defend his mind from others.

Race: - Human

Hair: - Black

Eyes: - Black

Home Village: - Urû'baen

Parents: - A slavehandler and an unknown woman.

Siblings: - His four sisters were traded off by his father before he was born.

Character Personality: At least 12 lines.

Rav was a shy child who was raised in the city of Urû'baen by his neglecting father. He had no real friends there except a strange dark green rat who schooled him about magic and distant lands he had never been to. The streets of Urû'baen have taught him to fear the dark so he rarely stayed out after dark. He always wandered the streets, often to steal and usually to wonder about the meaning of life. Sometimes he would steal books, scrolls, and other writings from the nobles to feed his need for knowledge. He is more concerned with the why and how and not so much the what. He loved animals. Since he was a small child he had been able to communicate with animals and on rare occasions humans. At times it may have seemed as if he cared for the animals more than people. His father was a slavehandler under the service of Galbatorix, and as so treated him very badly. The boy has no love for authority and feels pity for the slaves his father mistreated. Although its his nature to shy away from human contact, he does desire to help others in need. His current thoughts dwell on finding acceptance and finding his role in life. He is eager to fight against the Empire; however, his distrust of authority is strong and he is not eager to join the Varden. He wishes to roam freely and answer to none.

Character History: At least 15 lines.

This is a brief summary of the story that follows.


Rav was raised by a slavehandler in the city of Urû'baen. His father was never kind to him and he lacked any real friends except the animals he could communicate with. He had learned the basic of magic from a strange dark green rat who knew of strange places far away. He had access to books because he would often steal from the supply caravans that would supply the nobility of the Empire with the luxuries of life. He did not believe stealing was good, but he had no hard feelings about stealing from those who pleasured themselves in the suffering of others. His daily routine had been to leave his father's estate after his father left for work so he could listen to the teachings of the rat and wonder the streets looking for anything interesting to steal. He did what he could to avoid his father. His father was a cruel slavehandler who sometimes enjoyed taking his son to the camps and making him punish the slaves. His father did not take no for an answer and was not afraid to turn his hatred of slaves upon his on, and Rav had the scars to prove it. One day he refused his father's command to whip a child who had injured himself. Infuriated, his father began to beat his son. The extreme hate inside for his father gave Rav the will he needed to find his ability to use magic, and he flung a stone which incapacitated his father. He took his father's sword and turned it against his father. When they attacked him, he killed the slavehandlers at the camp and then he released all of the slaves. He told the slaves to flee to Surda while he himself fled east. Thorn and Murtag were sent to find him but he disguised himself by immitating the thoughts of a nearby squirrel. He had finally stood up to his father and the Empire he hated so much, but at what cost? He knew none would trust a wonderer, murderer, or the son of the King's nobility so he decided to hide his past. Unsure as to where he should go, he simply kept walking east.


Weapons: At least a 2 line description for each weapon, if it isn't plain.

He currently only has the sword of his slain father, a standard issue one handed iron blade.

Likes: - Knowlege and magic.

Dislikes: - Suffering of others, authority.

Animal Companions: - He was schooled in magic by a rat, who he knows little about. He is adept at reading the minds of animals.

Character's Physical Description: At least 5 lines.

The rat would often describe the boy as a child of Urû'baen, as if the city itself had the ability to conceive a child. His hair and eyes were black. his skin is pale yet covered in the filth of the streets and scars from his father's whip. He was a skinny boy who rarely had to endure much physical activity. He would usually wear all black to hide himself when he crept through the streets of Urû'baen. He stole the sword from his father when he escaped the Empire, a standard one handed blade. He would never draw attention to himself and would always avoid being seen in public.


Dreams for the Future: - Possibly to fight against the empire and maybe meet dragon riders, maybe even hatch an egg himself.

Reason for Dreams: - Do dreams ever follow reason?

Alignment/side: - Rav is currently neutral, not friendly to the Empire, knows little of the Varden.

The story below goes into greater detail about the history of my charactor.

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Last edited by l2av on December 3rd, 2008, 3:21 am, edited 9 times in total.

December 2nd, 2008, 1:14 am Profile
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Post Re: Rav Darkeyes, Child of the Night
Today seemed rather cold, dark, and lonely. Although years of living in Urû'baen have caused him to to accept the darkness and loneliness, the cold was beginning to annoy him. The boy decided to not wear a jacket and instead went out in his black tunic. Having black hair and black eyes, the young man appeared to be a child of the dark city, as if the wretched place produced offspring of its own. His skin was pale, but filth and a myriad of scars covered his body. Night was approaching, as dark as the city may be during the day, the suffocating blackness of darkness being subdued by darkness is too much even for him to risk. Evil people dwell in this city, some with the magic and sovereign power to enact any evil they wish upon anyone without fear of judgment. The boy knew that if he was to make it home safely, he was going to have to get there faster. He set out to search for food. He hurried along several of the back alleys until he found an unguarded horse cart. Perhaps it was destined for the court of the King himself. He cared not for hunger is blind.

He began to probe the cart looking for bread and other items he could store. Sometimes he would find food, wine, and even books. A rat approached, dark green fur with rather large protruding fangs and, despite the filth of the city, a clean coat of fur. And what do you think you are doing? Is Rav getting into more trouble? Darkeyes, you child of the night? The boy turned around and eyeballed the rat. "I do not expect to be schooled in morality from a rat." The rat gave a brief smile. How about a friend, or even a mentor? Rav has never had too many friends. Most of the city lay empty and deserted, since the King had almost everyone sent off to fight the Varden. The boy had always been able to hear the thoughts of animals, and if they cared to listen, he could make them hear his thoughts. He always grew bored with most animals. All of the animals he knew were usually in such a frantic state of mind, they all knew they were in the city to be someone's meal. Creatures who allow themselves to be overcome with the fear of death do not take the time to be a good conversation partner. He would often listen to stories about their life on the farm, being captured, and hauled in a filthy wagon to wait to be butchered. Rav had lost his taste for meats, nevertheless. It was his ability to hear and influence the thoughts of animals that allowed him to meet the rat. The rat was his only true friend and the only person he could share his thoughts with. Unlike the other animals, the rat had a mind far more complex than any human he knew. A mind that knew of magic and lands far away. The rat would always leave for extended periods of time, during witch Rav would grow lonely and sad, but returned with stories of distant streets in distant cities. He would often wonder how such a small creature could travel so far. The rat would attempt to school the boy briefly in magic, but to no avail. I have something to tell you Rav, but you will have to wait until tomorrow, for I am weary from travel. The thought of learning about new places and practicing magic once again enticed the boy, but he had to wait until tomorrow. "I have to get home soon anyways.", said Rav. The rat mocked him, Still afraid of the dark are we? The boy said nothing and departed. On his way, he had thoughts about the Varden and the King Galbatorix. He never believed in war, to him it seemed as if the power hungry hands of the empire was scooping up innocent people from the land in multitudes only to feed them to the life consuming maw of the Varden. The rat always told him good things about the Varden, how one day they would stop the King and return peace to Allegasia. Peace was a concept he had trouble understanding- he had yet to have peace in his life. All he has ever known was suffering. Suffering from battle, suffering from oppression. Suffering from being alone with none to talk to but a strange magical rat.

He finally made it home. "I have left the darkness of the streets to the familiar darkness of my father's estate." he said to himself. Knowing his father was to return home soon, he hurried to make sure everything was in order. His father was a rich patron to the king. He was no Earl or commander, his father was a slave handler. Rav swore that such an occupation turns a man evil, and consumes his soul. He had no love for his father, nor did he receive any in return. The hatred and violence his father unleashed on his slaves did not stay outside the home. Wicked was he, for he had no concern about the wellbeing of his slaves. He would often work them to death. The old man was as muscular as we was uncaring. He had served in the army for some time and well before the boy was born had aquired favor among the nobility and was awarded a higher post. The boy did not resemble his father. His father's eyes and hair were brown and his skin was tan. He often wondered at times if that was even his real father but never had the nerve to voice his questions out loud for he feared his father's wrath. A particulate man, his father would not let Rav rest until the estate was spotless. Even though he was a man of wealth, he refused to have servants, he insisted on instilling discipline and loyalty into his son. Protocol, loyalty, and attention to detail were more important to his father than love, happiness, or even life itself. He was the son of his father's fifth wife, the only woman to give him an heir. He had the other wives sent off to slave camps for only providing him with daughters. The wicked man had no time to raise girls, he gave them all to other members of Galbatorix's court as gifts of respect and fealty. Shortly after giving birth, his mother fled the wicked man. In an agitated roar, his father scolded him over some dirt at the entrance to the estate- dirt that no doubt the man tracked in himself. The boy knew not to give resistance, the scars on his pale hide are remnants of lessons past. "You will come with me tomorrow boy." his father said, "I will have you with me while I manage the slaves at the lumber camp to the south." Rav grew sad for he hated missing lessons of magic from the rat. "You will go, and I will teach you how to be a man. Is that understood?", his father demanded. Rav replied reluctantly, "Yes, father."

He arrived to the camp early that morning. No matter how much he hated the slave camps, he reveled in the light of the outside world. The only times he has ever really been outside of the suffocating blackness of Urû'baen was to witness the cruel torture of slaves at one of the King's many slave camps. The camps were full of people either unfit to serve in the King's army or those who were being punished but whose punishment was far worse than death. The increased needs of an accelerated war have caused his father to work longer hours at the camps, much to the boy's relief. The wicked man has not the strength to torture his son if he's been beating slaves from sunrise to sunset. The overseers of the slave camps worked twelve hour shifts to increase production, and the slaves worked all day and all night, receiving little or no rest. Rav had the cruel curiosity to wonder how a man, woman, or child could survive in a place like this- and yet, here they were, working the short remainder of their lives away in pure agony. As was customary among the ranks of Galbatorix's servants, his father wore a blade. If his proficiency with a blade was to ever match his proficiency with a whip, all the world and Galbatorix would tremble in fear. The majority of his time was spent torturing slaves, even to the extent of death. His father would often comment that the death of the Razacs has left the empire with many living slaves, and that the King wanted to eliminate such a surplus. The very though of a human life being reduced logically to a surplus of worthless tools to dispose of both nauseated and infuriated the boy. There had been many times were Rav objected to his father's demeanor, and many times the boy received a new collection of scars to adorn his hide. As long as he made no objections and did as he was told, things would be at a fragile peace.

His father was scolding some young boy who had broken his leg after falling over a stump. Instead of whipping the boy himself, his father insisted on Rav dealing the punishment. There had been many times were his father had forced him to whip slaves, usually he would but sometimes he would not. Usually disobeying his father would result in him being whipped and the slave being whipped anyways by his father. This time it was different. The boy slave was no older that ten, and his leg was broken and yet he did not cry. This cruel world had dried up his eyes, it was useless to show sorrow in a world drowning in it already. And still, Rav refused to whip the boy. The ridicule of his father's peers enraged the old man. He slapped his son so hard that he fell over sideways, and began to whip him showing no more mercy than that he would give to a slave. The fires of hate began to ravage Rav's mind- the most extreme hate. There was nothing he could do. If he was to fight back, his father and the other overseers would overwhelm him and give him a beating twice as long. He quickly thought back to the lessons of the magic rat. He thought of the rat teaching him how to move a pebble. Although he was never capable of using magic, the hate within was so strong and his will so powerful that he felt something he had never felt before. Before anyone had time to react, the small pebble at his side flung itself into his father's head. It did not kill the man, but it temporarily incapacitated him. Knowing what would happen to him if he did nothing and his father regained control of the situation, he grabbed his father's sword. His father seemed unconcerned. He taunted his son,
"You'd never be man enough to strike me down." His father jumped for the blade, and Rav spun around with a speed he never though he was capable of. He had never wielded a weapon in his life, and yet it moved as if it was an extension of his arm. When he realized what had happened, his father's limp body was at his feet and the remaining camp overseers were rushing toward him. With out a though, as if instinct controlled his every move, he slew each assailant as quickly as they were dispatched. He released the slaves, he figured they were destined to die, and in the confusion of having to hunt down slaves, the King's men would not be able to find him or figure out what had happened. He remembered the stories of the magic rat and told the slaves about the kingdom of Surda, and that they could find safety there. He then fled east, purposely taking a different route than the slaves for he knew it was almost certain that many of them would be recaptured. The trails of several hundred slaves would be obvious to even the blind beggar standing outside of the tax collector's office. Where he would go or what he would do he did not know.

It was getting dark, but this time braving death and knowing he had finally stood up to his father and for what was right comforted him. He was alone, and he was not afraid. He did not miss the cold darkness of the city, for all else was as bright as gold. He had peace of mind. He had his peace. Even in the dark and almost haunted seclusion of the forest, he felt as if he was bathing in the lush green fields only the magic rat has told him about. He missed the rat. Who was he anyways- a daemon? an elvish spy? He would probably never know. He quickly silenced his thoughts. The sound of the wings of a large beast disturbed the serenity of his newfound refuge. It was Thorn, and on Thorn, Murtag. He had heard stories about dragons and dragon riders from the rat, and in particular stories about Murtag and Thorn. He knew he had to muster his wits and act quickly to silence his mind if he was to not be found. In the tree above him was a squirrel. The creature was terrified of the noise outside, but his thoughts permeated with images of the creature's newborn offspring. Rav duplicated the thoughts of the squirrel to appear as if he himself was a squirrel. He knew his mind was exposed like a bright beacon, but he also knew it would be near impossible to distinguish him from the animals of the forest. The sound gradually declined until the red beast and his rider were gone. He knew his chances of survival depended on him putting as many leagues between him and that wicked city as quickly as he could. Where he would go and who he would meet were of no concern, only leaving that place behind in the vaults of his memory. He would tell none of his past, for who would trust a noble from the Empire. Who would trust a murderer? The though of him killing those wicked men disturbed him.
"I am not my father." he said to himself. He vowed that one day he would return to free the slaves and that he would cause grief to anybody attempting to express the wicked will of the empire and its demented King who crossed his path. He began walking east.

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Last edited by l2av on December 3rd, 2008, 1:28 am, edited 3 times in total.

December 2nd, 2008, 1:15 am Profile
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Post Re: Rav Darkeyes, Child of the Night
First, don't double post unless it had been 24 hours since someone last posted.
Second, you might as well edit that story into History as that is where it belongs. That charater looks nice but you still need to fill out all the required sections for us to consider it. Just look at the other characters if you need some clues how to go about that.

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For though I move on, I will always remember you I-L-S.
Keralin and Aelir, (And Keralin's past)
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December 2nd, 2008, 3:27 am Profile
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Post Re: Rav Darkeyes, Child of the Night
I made the following changes:
* Expanded upon the personality section.
* Summarized my charactor's history and added it to the history section.
* Better explained his appearance.
* Various spelling and grammar errors fixed, I'm sure I introduced just as many new errors as the old ones i fixed.

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Last edited by l2av on December 3rd, 2008, 3:24 am, edited 1 time in total.

December 2nd, 2008, 12:20 pm Profile
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Post Re: Rav Darkeyes, Child of the Night
l2av wrote:
Various spelling and grammar errors fixed, I'm sure I introduced just as many new errors as the old ones i fixed.


Heheh. :D

Two more lines on personality please.

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For though I move on, I will always remember you I-L-S.
Keralin and Aelir, (And Keralin's past)
Hayren and Taliear
Aeraldi, (And Aeraldi's past)
Polaris and Saiph
Nilarek, (And Nilarek's newest host)
Legion
Kharsin


December 2nd, 2008, 10:41 pm Profile
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Post Re: Rav Darkeyes, Child of the Night
I made the following changes:
* Expanded upon the personality section.
* Grammar...again.
* Developed a strange addiction for typing pastel colors in 24 bit hexcodes (this is #CCDCCC btw) :?
* Discovered Googles evil plan to eradicate Mozilla by not including it in Chrome's spell check library and therefor erasing Mozilla from the interwebz(wait!? what?!- ok, just ignore that one 8-[ ).

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December 3rd, 2008, 3:33 am Profile
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Post Re: Rav Darkeyes, Child of the Night
Lol!!

The character is great, now we have to wait for the other members of the team to agree with me.

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For though I move on, I will always remember you I-L-S.
Keralin and Aelir, (And Keralin's past)
Hayren and Taliear
Aeraldi, (And Aeraldi's past)
Polaris and Saiph
Nilarek, (And Nilarek's newest host)
Legion
Kharsin


December 3rd, 2008, 7:50 am Profile
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Post Re: Rav Darkeyes, Child of the Night
Hmmm... a little ordinary for the likes of Faefnir and the others. Several people have tried ordinary warriors in the past, and only one or two have succeeded. It's hard to do something with that, especially with a novice RPer such as yourself--no offense. I approve because I am naturally optimistic, and this character is a clean sheet, neither Varden or Empire or Dragon Fortress.

I would strongly suggest you make a character to back this one up, though--something interesting in case this character fails.

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"The worth is in the act. Your worth halts when you surrender the will to change and experience life. But options are before you; choose one and dedicate yourself to it. The deeds will give you new hope and purpose."
"The only true guide is your heart. Nothing less than its supreme desire can help you."
"Live in the present, remember the past, and fear not the future, for it doesn't exist and never shall. There is only now."
"You give more of yourself when you have an opponent."
"People, sheep: what difference is there to a dragon?"
"I am not a hatchling. You need not check on my health every few minutes."

First beware Pride, lest belief in ones might--Has you discount the foeman who is braving your sight.


December 18th, 2008, 6:26 am Profile
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Post Re: Rav Darkeyes, Child of the Night
I accept I think you will do great


February 17th, 2009, 12:51 am Profile
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Post Re: Rav Darkeyes, Child of the Night
I am sorry, it was brought to my attention that this character was indeed accepted. My sincere apologies.

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For though I move on, I will always remember you I-L-S.
Keralin and Aelir, (And Keralin's past)
Hayren and Taliear
Aeraldi, (And Aeraldi's past)
Polaris and Saiph
Nilarek, (And Nilarek's newest host)
Legion
Kharsin


February 22nd, 2009, 6:56 am Profile
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