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    Jen Sjolar


    Posts : 18
    Join date : 2017-04-29
    Age : 22
    Location : USA

    Jen Sjolar

    Post by Dazai on Sat Apr 29, 2017 11:13 pm

    (Because my account is new, I couldn't link to examples of Jen's equipment. I apologize, and I'll get them edited in as soon as possible)

    Name: Jen Sjolar (i.e engine. Sjolar as in solar.)

    Race: Vescor (Vampire, previously human)

    Gender: Male

    Age: 23

    Class: Shadow

    Subclass: Infiltrator

    Profession: Vampire Hunter

    Social: 6
    Might: 1
    Stealth: 8
    Arcana: 0
    Endurance: 3
    Agility: 7
    Speed: 6
    Accuracy: 1

    Loadout: Family heirlooms consisting of a short sword, a dagger, and a small forearm-mounted hookshot.

    - The short sword is a mix of characteristics of the Somali Billaoblade, and the handle/hilt of the Sahel region’s Takoba
    . The quality of the weapon itself is excellent, but the engravings are homemade. Engraved on the hilt is a fang with three crude horizontal streaks through it.

    - The dagger looks reminiscent of the bandit's knife from Dark Souls. It’s frequently used to assassinate unsuspecting enemies, or as an off hand weapon to overwhelm the opposition. Ingrained in the handle is the same symbol found on the shortsword.

    - The forearm-mounted hookshot is used mainly for traversing ground quickly, but it has it’s rare uses in combat. Its main use in a fight is to help Jen remain mobile. If Jen is pinned or incapacitated in some way, he could use this as a last ditch move, though the bolt it fires isn't likely to pierce through incredibly thick hide or plate armor.

    Appearance: Jen has a toned but slender build. He stands about 5’ 8”, and has a light brown complexion. His jet black hair is dreadlocked, and is usually tied up when he’s hunting/sneaking. Jen’s eyes have a noticeable light grey color to them. They gain orange-yellow hues relative to the strain on his body and his emotional state, the latter of which caused him to adopt a pretentious, laid-back mentality. For clothing, Jen wears very lightweight, dark-grey cloth armor with a leather bandolier/single strapped pack to carry vials, keys, and other equipment that keep up with sword maintenance. He wears a black scarf around his neck that can be pulled up to help obscure his identity akin to a half-face mask. This scarf was previously used by his sister during the winter, and he is rarely ever seen without it. The closest resemblance in equipment is shown by Garrett of the most recent Thief game.

          “Strike with purpose, boy!” A disgruntled voice rose above the cluttered atmosphere of the forge. It was his father, Korë. A middle-aged man with a mildly dark complexion could be seen across the room with his gaze trained on a smoldering strip of steel. His powerful yet precise strikes betrayed the story his face told. His cheeks bore lines and light scars presumably from working. The edges of his eyes held subtle crows feet, and his pupils held a calming grey, matched by his incredibly short hair. Jen looked up to his father, and he strived for his approval. Even if he found the work monotonous, he continued improving his smithing so that he'd succeed his father when the time came. It's was probably the wisest goal he could pursue, but Jen struggled with the dull premise at times. “Sorry Dad, just a bit tired,” Jen sighed. It was at least partially true. The two of them had been at the forge for several hours working on swords for the Recudor city guard. The soreness in Jen’s arms and the vacancy in his stomach seemed to reach a consensus, and Korë, ever so acute, looked up from his work. “Ah well, I suppose it's been a good bit since we started. I'm sure your mother’s made dinner, so you can put up the iron ‘fer tonight. I’ll finish your piece.” Jen nodded in agreement and they continued on.
          After washing off the soot, and changing clothes, Jen entered the kitchen. To his pleasant surprise, he saw his mother, Etree, fixing dinner while his younger sister, Fawn, sat at the table patiently. Jen’s mother was truly  beautiful for her age. She was a slender woman with hair darker than the deepest black, tied in a ponytail. Bearing a sharp chin and cheekbones and pale skin, Etree maintained an elegant, cheerful look no matter what she was doing. Jen’s 10-year old sister reflected their mother’s traits almost identically, albeit with more youthful features. Upon seeing her brother step into the room, Fawn turned her head in excitement. “Hey Big Bro!” She exclaimed, beaming a bright smile that sincerely reflected her joy. Fawn had always adored her family. Her innocence never failed to brighten the day of anyone she crossed paths with. Hearing Fawn’s voice made Jen form a half grin. “Did ya miss me?” Jen replied with confidence. It was clearly a rhetorical question. Jen loved Fawn above all else. Their parents cared for their children, but Jen knew one day they’d be unable to do so. The Sjolar family wasn’t rich by any means. Jen wanted to make sure she’d be able to pursue any dream she desired, and he worked tirelessly to make that a reality. As Jen pulled out a chair to sit down, Etree spoke up. ”Where’s Dad, Jen,” She said, her voice tender and soft, “Still at the forge? Supper’s almost ready.” Jen nodded, “Yeah, he’s just finishin’ up. I’ll go grab him.”
    Jen stepped out into the cool, salty air of the outdoors. The sun had set, but Recudor never slept. Lights from various windows illuminated the streets, and the ambient sounds of the harbor town’s slum filled Jen’s ears. The forge was just next door, so it wasn’t but a few seconds before Jen twisted open the door to the forge. “Hm… The lights seem to be off.“ Jen thought to himself as he took a few steps further in and closed the door behind him. Something was off,  and Jen knew it. “Hey Old Man,” he said, trying to get a response, any response, “Why are you in the dark?” He only heard muffled screaming.
          Jen’s eyes shot open with the ceiling in view. His heart pounded in his chest, and his entire body felt… sore. Jen sat up and rubbed his eyes, “What the hell?” He looked over part of the room, and saw everything in pristine condition. The hammers were up, and the furnace off. Two freshly finished swords reflecting the morning light, laid on their racks. His father had obviously intended on locking up for the night, but where was he? Jen looked down to examine his own body, and shock overcame him. His eyes widened as he saw massive blood stains on his own torn shirt. “Shit!” His mind raced to find a wound, but there was none. Jen had been attacked, that much was obvious. “But why? By who?” He needed to make sure Fawn was ok. Taking off his bloodied shirt, he reached for one of the swords on the rack before turning to the door. Jen looked in horror at what he saw. His father’s mangled body was strewn against the corner. His throat slit, and his empty eyes staring into Jen’s. The horrid sight caused him to vomit profusely. When he regained his senses, panic set in. He had no time to weep for his father, as he shoved open the door, and sprinted to his house.
          When Jen arrived at his home’s front door, he found it locked. “I don’t have time for this!” he fumed. He banged on the door. “Mom! Fawn! Where are you! Open the door! Please!” His voice cracked in fear. After continued silence from inside, Jen was now completely desperate. He looked for the nearest window and smashed it with the handle of his sword, slicing his hands a bit in the process. As he climbed through, Jen saw the house had been destroyed. The walls held numerous animal-like slashes, and sections had been smashed leaving fist sized holes. As Jen looked closer towards the hallway, he noticed a thin trail of blood. His heart rose to his throat. Running over the clutter of overturned furniture and pieces of infrastructure, Jen followed the trail to his sister’s bedroom.
    Inside lay his mother, face down in a blood-spattered mess. Through tears, he dropped his sword, rushed to her, and cradled her in his arms. Upon gazing at her face, he saw her throat had been ripped out. Her eyes imitating the same awful emptiness he’d just seen in the forge. Setting her down, he discovered an intricate short sword and dagger where his mother lay. He grabbed the two blades and examined them lightly, taking note of the fang emblem on both. “A fang… Why a fang?” Jen’s thoughts were becoming more frenzied and dull. He had to find Fawn. Taking the two blades with him, he frantically scoured the rest of the small house for his sister.
    Jen’s search yielded nothing. “Where… Where could she have gone?” He panted as he became noticeably more strained, “What the hell is wrong with me?” Jen felt his thoughts begin to grow muddied, as an indescribable pain overtook him. He had never experienced anything quite like this. It could only be described as… a hunger. Through the cloud in his mind, he found part of an answer. The similar wounds on his parents’ bodies coupled with the animalistic slashes, ruled out common thieves, as did the lack of theft. Jen’s family was targeted. With what happened at the forge, that much was obvious. “Now these weapons. Whose are they?” He looked again at the weapons. More pieces fell in place. This was his father’s craftsmanship, there was no doubt in Jen’s mind. These fangs held significance too, as his father rarely embellished his work. The pining in his stomach reared it's head again.
          “Vampires…” Jen seethed, his intense anger causing his brow to furrow. He had heard of their existence before, but never imagined something like this could happen. He should've been a dead man, but he wasn't. The aching feeling in his gut, and the lack of wounds on his body led him to the obvious conclusion. He had turned. He was one of them now. Jen stood up in his sister’s room. On Fawn’s bed was her black scarf she'd worn countless times before. It was the only thing he had left of her. Filled with hatred for himself and what he'd become, Jen left his home in search of his sister and the people who destroyed his family. Seeking to gain experience in swordsmanship and espionage, Jen took on any mercenary job he could find, before eventually specializing as a vampire hunter.
          After some time, Jen visited his parents’ graves, and happened upon a girl named Sirius. Pulling her out of the ground, he found that she wasn't human, but a zombie. Though initially hesitant about accompanying someone like herself, Jen agreed to travel with her, hoping to find any leads on his sister’s whereabouts.

    - Patient, Level-headed, and analytic
    - Can repair bladed, non-magic weapons
    - Very good at appealing/manipulating people
    - Empathetic


    - Abhors all vampires
    - If taunted about his family, he may blow his cover
    - Knows very little about utilizing magic or the supernatural
    - Sometimes let’s his battle high get out of hand and overkills

      Current date/time is Fri Jul 20, 2018 5:01 am