Post by Canadian Vet on Sept 1, 2014 14:01:34 GMT -5
Player: Canadian Vet
Best Contact Method(s): PM
Have you read the General Rules?: Yes
Are you adopting a character from the Open for Claims List?: No
If so, have you discussed the character with the contact person?: N/A
Character Name: Nicholas Miller
Age: 28
Gender: Male
Birthdate: July 28 1399
City / Region: small village north of Desrochers
House [Sworn to service]: Devereaux
Played by: Jonas Armstrong
Appearance: If one needed a single word to describe Nicholas Miller, the word would be "unremarkable". A man of a wiry build and average height, he hardly stands out in a crowd. His most common brown hair is roughly cut at the nape of his neck and, while typically fairly clean, often appears to need a comb. His face is equally plain, slender and long as it is and graced with simple and sharp features which are barely lit by his pale eyes. His jaw, devoid of the square lines more present in the nobility, is also narrow and obscured by a short beard that is kept relatively well trimmed.
As as he is not a man of means, he dresses plainly. While he does own a single set of better clothes for the right occasion, he typically wears a combination of breeches, shirt and tunic that are well-made but hardly the kind of things even a well-off merchant would wear, let alone the gentry. However, his boots are of a much higher quality, as are his belt and his cloak.
When the situation warrants, he will don his armour, which has little to do with the magnificent sets worn by the knights and men-at-arms. It is a simple affair, composed of a stained and often lice-infested gambeson, a short-sleeved mail haubergeon and a open-faced sallet. Each piece of his armour has been often repaired and patched, save for his helmet. Indeed, that lone piece of equipment is nearly pristine, it's only flaw being where the rivets that used to hold a visor in place but had been crudely wrenched off after being taken from a man who no longer needed it.
As an archer, Nicholas is seldom seen without his weapons. Of course, he bears the bow which is the primary tool of his trade. It is a simple her beautiful thing, a shaft of yew taller than he is when unstrung, it's belly the dense and dark heartwood and it's back the much paler sapwood. Of course, he carries his undyed linen arrow bag in which he strives to keep three full sheaves of arrows at any given time. At his waist, his belt is laden with a simple antler-handled knife and a broad, unadorned and very much utilitarian falchion.
Personality: If anything, Nicholas is surprisingly good-natured. Even if he was raised in squalor and will likely never rise above being a common soldier, he is happy with his lot. Quick with a smile or a joke, he has been known to defuse much tension with his dry humour.
A commoner like him tends to have very little to be proud of, but he takes immense pride and joy in his service and skills as an archer. As a man sworn to House Devereaux, he has a chance to practice his skills within the confines of the law. Not to mention the possibilities of plunder and ransoms whenever he is ordered to march on anyone who has offended his liege lord.
Also, he is immensely grateful to the ruling family for his chance to serve and considers himself in their debt as he was offered a chance to serve with them instead of the stocks followed by the hangman's noose he should have gone to when he was eventually caught poaching and was also accused, and rightly so, of having loosed arrows at the King's foresters, wounding one and nearly killing another before escaping them and eventually turning himself in.
Specific Skills or Abilities: While he is no slouch with his falchion, Nicholas is no match for a professional knight in close quarters. However, with his bow, he is a holy terror. Having been practicing nearly daily with it from the time he was six years old, he no longer needs to aim in order to put a shaft where he wants it. He picks his target, draws the cord and let's fly all in instinct.
As a result of all these years, he has developed a frightful upper body strength and endurance, which are needed to pull back a hundred and fifty pounds of tension twelve times or more in a minute.
Also, thanks to his upbringing and several forays poaching, he has become a skilled hunter and tracker. This less than legal way of providing food has also led him to become quite adept at keeping out of sight and planning ambushes.
As he was fitted for a new bow every year, if not more often, Nicholas has spent much time in the company of bowyers and fletchers and as such he learned some of their skills. And while he cannot match a dedicated tradesman in terms of speed of work or the quality, he can be useful in their shops.
Background: Nicholas wasn't born to much. His father was some poor landed knight's tenant and had the honour of running the fief's lone and ill-repaired mill. As such, between taxes that were too high, equipment that needed frequent repairs at his father's expense and many a lean harvest, he grew up quite poor.
As there was seldom enough to eat, hunting became a common way of putting food on the table and before long, Nicholas was introduced to the bow and took to it like a fish to water. First drawing a mere stick fitted with a piece of string, the boy grew stronger and more skilled and as time went, he eschewed learning his letters and focused solely on the stave, cord and shaft. His father, seeing a chance to give his son a chance to escape this drudgery, was more than indulgent.
Indeed, he ensured Nicholas would ever have a new bow when he outgrew one, even trading some of the flour owed in taxes to cover the expense. And eventually, the boy began to earn with his skills and could afford his own bows and arrows by bringing down birds that threatened crops, wolves that hunted sheep, foxes that haunted chicken coops and sometimes a game animal in the woods. And, in the plenty of time, he grew able to haul back the cord of a full-power war bow and drive his shafts with devilish accuracy.
Eventually, poaching became a good living. But before long his depredations attracted the wrong kind of attention and a handful of Devereaux huntsmen were sent to find the boy who was stealing the King's boars and deer and other game. At the age of fifteen, Nicholas was nearly caught and, in panic, for the first time in his life, he used his bow against another person and ran like the wind. After confessing to his father, he surrendered himself for justice in order to preserve the rest of his family, but instead of the death he expected, he was offered a chance to put his skills to good use instead.
Writing Sample:
Archers. It was a strange kind of status they enjoyed. One one hand, they were soldiers. Proud, skilled, the men who made victories possible by driving long shafts bearing vicious bodkins through the steel and leather of armoured lords and knights and men-at-arms. The men who, even in small numbers, could turn the tide of an unequal battle.
But everyone also knew they were peasants, thieves, poachers and murderers. They were not well-born like knights, or even better-born like men-at-arms. Or even well-enough born to be city guards. And they way they were used, they did almost everything else for a marching force and often they were given tasks that made them look little more than liveried bandits.
But Nicholas Miller loved every moment of it. He was no leader of men or anything of the like. He was just one man in the army. He was fed, he was equipped, he was mounted, he was paid and there was plunder for the taking whenever he was ordered to march to some troubled spot. Coming from abject poverty, it was great. And he was surrounded by men much like himself, folks who had pulled themselves from the gutters through their skill with the yew stave to make something of themselves. And many, like him, had been wanted men at some time. All were sinners and all had no qualms about it.
They were archers. And if any were good enough, then some day they too would lead their own bands and become wealthy much like their captain.
And on this day, Nick and his fellows were ordered to march. There was trouble in the borderlands. Disbanded soldiers were starting to go after villages and tax time was nearing. So, it was time to bring them to justice by way of the ash and oak shaft. Perhaps there would be no ransoms, but there would be money to be made all right.
Best Contact Method(s): PM
Have you read the General Rules?: Yes
Are you adopting a character from the Open for Claims List?: No
If so, have you discussed the character with the contact person?: N/A
Character Name: Nicholas Miller
Age: 28
Gender: Male
Birthdate: July 28 1399
City / Region: small village north of Desrochers
House [Sworn to service]: Devereaux
Played by: Jonas Armstrong
Appearance: If one needed a single word to describe Nicholas Miller, the word would be "unremarkable". A man of a wiry build and average height, he hardly stands out in a crowd. His most common brown hair is roughly cut at the nape of his neck and, while typically fairly clean, often appears to need a comb. His face is equally plain, slender and long as it is and graced with simple and sharp features which are barely lit by his pale eyes. His jaw, devoid of the square lines more present in the nobility, is also narrow and obscured by a short beard that is kept relatively well trimmed.
As as he is not a man of means, he dresses plainly. While he does own a single set of better clothes for the right occasion, he typically wears a combination of breeches, shirt and tunic that are well-made but hardly the kind of things even a well-off merchant would wear, let alone the gentry. However, his boots are of a much higher quality, as are his belt and his cloak.
When the situation warrants, he will don his armour, which has little to do with the magnificent sets worn by the knights and men-at-arms. It is a simple affair, composed of a stained and often lice-infested gambeson, a short-sleeved mail haubergeon and a open-faced sallet. Each piece of his armour has been often repaired and patched, save for his helmet. Indeed, that lone piece of equipment is nearly pristine, it's only flaw being where the rivets that used to hold a visor in place but had been crudely wrenched off after being taken from a man who no longer needed it.
As an archer, Nicholas is seldom seen without his weapons. Of course, he bears the bow which is the primary tool of his trade. It is a simple her beautiful thing, a shaft of yew taller than he is when unstrung, it's belly the dense and dark heartwood and it's back the much paler sapwood. Of course, he carries his undyed linen arrow bag in which he strives to keep three full sheaves of arrows at any given time. At his waist, his belt is laden with a simple antler-handled knife and a broad, unadorned and very much utilitarian falchion.
Personality: If anything, Nicholas is surprisingly good-natured. Even if he was raised in squalor and will likely never rise above being a common soldier, he is happy with his lot. Quick with a smile or a joke, he has been known to defuse much tension with his dry humour.
A commoner like him tends to have very little to be proud of, but he takes immense pride and joy in his service and skills as an archer. As a man sworn to House Devereaux, he has a chance to practice his skills within the confines of the law. Not to mention the possibilities of plunder and ransoms whenever he is ordered to march on anyone who has offended his liege lord.
Also, he is immensely grateful to the ruling family for his chance to serve and considers himself in their debt as he was offered a chance to serve with them instead of the stocks followed by the hangman's noose he should have gone to when he was eventually caught poaching and was also accused, and rightly so, of having loosed arrows at the King's foresters, wounding one and nearly killing another before escaping them and eventually turning himself in.
Specific Skills or Abilities: While he is no slouch with his falchion, Nicholas is no match for a professional knight in close quarters. However, with his bow, he is a holy terror. Having been practicing nearly daily with it from the time he was six years old, he no longer needs to aim in order to put a shaft where he wants it. He picks his target, draws the cord and let's fly all in instinct.
As a result of all these years, he has developed a frightful upper body strength and endurance, which are needed to pull back a hundred and fifty pounds of tension twelve times or more in a minute.
Also, thanks to his upbringing and several forays poaching, he has become a skilled hunter and tracker. This less than legal way of providing food has also led him to become quite adept at keeping out of sight and planning ambushes.
As he was fitted for a new bow every year, if not more often, Nicholas has spent much time in the company of bowyers and fletchers and as such he learned some of their skills. And while he cannot match a dedicated tradesman in terms of speed of work or the quality, he can be useful in their shops.
Background: Nicholas wasn't born to much. His father was some poor landed knight's tenant and had the honour of running the fief's lone and ill-repaired mill. As such, between taxes that were too high, equipment that needed frequent repairs at his father's expense and many a lean harvest, he grew up quite poor.
As there was seldom enough to eat, hunting became a common way of putting food on the table and before long, Nicholas was introduced to the bow and took to it like a fish to water. First drawing a mere stick fitted with a piece of string, the boy grew stronger and more skilled and as time went, he eschewed learning his letters and focused solely on the stave, cord and shaft. His father, seeing a chance to give his son a chance to escape this drudgery, was more than indulgent.
Indeed, he ensured Nicholas would ever have a new bow when he outgrew one, even trading some of the flour owed in taxes to cover the expense. And eventually, the boy began to earn with his skills and could afford his own bows and arrows by bringing down birds that threatened crops, wolves that hunted sheep, foxes that haunted chicken coops and sometimes a game animal in the woods. And, in the plenty of time, he grew able to haul back the cord of a full-power war bow and drive his shafts with devilish accuracy.
Eventually, poaching became a good living. But before long his depredations attracted the wrong kind of attention and a handful of Devereaux huntsmen were sent to find the boy who was stealing the King's boars and deer and other game. At the age of fifteen, Nicholas was nearly caught and, in panic, for the first time in his life, he used his bow against another person and ran like the wind. After confessing to his father, he surrendered himself for justice in order to preserve the rest of his family, but instead of the death he expected, he was offered a chance to put his skills to good use instead.
Writing Sample:
Archers. It was a strange kind of status they enjoyed. One one hand, they were soldiers. Proud, skilled, the men who made victories possible by driving long shafts bearing vicious bodkins through the steel and leather of armoured lords and knights and men-at-arms. The men who, even in small numbers, could turn the tide of an unequal battle.
But everyone also knew they were peasants, thieves, poachers and murderers. They were not well-born like knights, or even better-born like men-at-arms. Or even well-enough born to be city guards. And they way they were used, they did almost everything else for a marching force and often they were given tasks that made them look little more than liveried bandits.
But Nicholas Miller loved every moment of it. He was no leader of men or anything of the like. He was just one man in the army. He was fed, he was equipped, he was mounted, he was paid and there was plunder for the taking whenever he was ordered to march to some troubled spot. Coming from abject poverty, it was great. And he was surrounded by men much like himself, folks who had pulled themselves from the gutters through their skill with the yew stave to make something of themselves. And many, like him, had been wanted men at some time. All were sinners and all had no qualms about it.
They were archers. And if any were good enough, then some day they too would lead their own bands and become wealthy much like their captain.
And on this day, Nick and his fellows were ordered to march. There was trouble in the borderlands. Disbanded soldiers were starting to go after villages and tax time was nearing. So, it was time to bring them to justice by way of the ash and oak shaft. Perhaps there would be no ransoms, but there would be money to be made all right.