Post by Canadian Vet on Aug 15, 2015 22:47:31 GMT -5
Player: Canuck
Best Contact Method(s): Heliograph or semaphore; preferably the heliograph.
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 required character elements with the contact person?:
Character Name: Sir Tyber Sinclair
Age: 25
Gender: Male
Birthdate: 19 August 1427
City / Region: Ashworth, Shelbourne
House [ Birth, Marriage if applicable ]: Sinclair by birth
Played by:
Tom Hopper
Appearance:
To say Tyber is a large man would be an understatement of rare proportions. Standing a fraction of an inch under six and a half feet in height and weighing in at seventeen stones of bone, muscle and sinews even before he puts on his armour, he cuts an impressive figure regardless of how he is dressed.
As a requirement for the comfortable wearing of a helm, he keeps his sand-coloured hair and beard trimmed extremely short, both often no longer than a mere stubble. His dark eyes, under the heavy shelf of his brow, however, reveal a lively mind and a man with a sense of humour, but that is when they are not encased in steel.
When he is not in his armour, Tyber prefers simple, utilitarian attire and when the weather and the social situation permit, he goes about completely sleeveless, thus exposing his impressively muscled arms. However, it is not to say he is incapable of dressing up, for he does own a number of better made, proper attires for these occasions where he absolutely must appear like a young nobleman and respectable knight.
His armour, made by some of the finest smiths in Duefemi, bears no adornments whatsoever. The steel is plain and not even burnished to a shine. While he is proud of it and keeps it immaculately scoured and dent-free, he recognizes it as a tool of his trade. However, over it he wears a richly dyed and embroidered surcoat bearing the arms of his family and the badge of a knight of the Order of the Shield Verdant.
Personality:
At first glance, most people might be tempted to think Tyber just one more musclebound brute. He is direct, unsophisticated, loud and has little interest in courtly things. However, there are many things that are not immediately apparent.
Firstly, he is immensely loyal. Perhaps the royal family is only a distant concept to him but he is fiercely devoted to his family, his House, his people and his Duke. But mostly it is his family that is blessed with his loyalty. His brother, who also happens to be his lord commander, he would follow through the very fires of Hell if he would only ask and there are no extents he would not go to should his father or his uncle demand so.
However, out of all of House Sinclair, he finds himself fiercely protective of his female cousins. As he has no sisters, he did not have the particular experience of growing up with them but he is far from being devoid of cousins of the fairer sex and they have, in a way, been surrogate sisters to him when he grew up and to this day he treats them just that way still. Particular among them is Elizabeth and he takes a rare joy at bringing her pleasure by carrying her in ways her brother is unable or unwilling to.
And in that same vein, he is extremely fond of children, to say the least. Regardless of their birth or extraction, he will go out of his way to show them some kind of kindness and he has been known to even play some games with them just as a way to unwind.
When it comes to his trade, that of arms, he is exceedingly serious about it. He trains hard, he fights hard and he is a consummate professional. And as much as he enjoys testing himself, he despises a great deal about formal tournaments, particularly the pageantry. He has an especially virulent dislike for tourney knights and their ilk, these who claim to be masters of the trade of arms yet are not to be seen on any battlefield. He views jousting as artificial and contrived and single combat as most unrealistic. However, should a tourney involve a melee he would gleefully join that particular event as the trappings of 'proper chivalric conduct' are more than a little relaxed.
Specific Skills or Abilities:
Fighting: Either on foot or on horseback, Tyber is a veritable terror. While he is accurate with a lance, his technique is inelegant and would not win him any points on a tourney field. His other favoured weapons are his longsword, which bears a blade broader and heavier than the average, and his hammer. When dismounted, he will often wield both weapons at the same time to strike mercilessly at any foe who stands before him. He is also quite capable with a poleaxe, but he utterly despises flails and has refused to even train with them.
Riding, mounted combat and horse care: As a Knight of the Order of the Knight Verdant, he is an accomplished rider who truly does justice to the fine mounts the Sinclairs are known for raising; whether it is riding the lightest horse that will bear his bulk or sitting atop eighteen hands of destrier, the man might as well be born a centaur. Also, he is quite skilled at caring for horses, from trimming hooves to dealing with minor illnesses and injuries as well as the myriad tasks that pertain to these noble animals.
Unrefined strategist: There are few ways to put it that are nice or diplomatic, Tyber is a poor strategist. While he is more than capable of handling the logistics of a conroi of heavy cavalry and he can sense the flow of battle about him, he has no mind for the deeper concepts of warfare; in such matters, he is a blunt instrument who is better pointed in the right direction and sent to do what he does best.
Music: As unlikely as it may sound, he is an accomplished lute player, but his singing voice is passable at best and better-suited to raucous drinking songs, bawdy tunes or tales of exploits in a boisterous taproom than the more measured and restrained lays of a castle's hall.
Dancing: Extremely poor. As much as he enjoys the country dances of his homeland, he utterly lacks rhythm and grace in this particular endeavour. It has been a source of much teasing, especially considering that he moves as easily encased in steel as he does wearing naught but his braies.
Character History:
The second son of Carlton Sinclair, Tyber had understood from a young age that he was a spare to his older brother Logan. But that is not to say he resented him; in fact, they had always been close and they had started upon the path of knighthood together as pages and then as squires. That two brothers be in the service of the same knight at the same time was unusual, but their father had decreed that it would benefit them in the long run and it would do much to keep the bond between them in ways far stronger than ties of blood.
However, it became quickly apparent that unlike Logan, Tyber did not have the same mind for leading men and understanding the nuances of strategies. On a tactical level, he could make good use of a conroi that had already been tasked with a specific objective but such is the extent of his skills in this matter despite the ease with which he grasped the more physical aspects of warfare.
Indeed, early on it became obvious that Tyber was destined to be a beast of a man and when he reached his teenage years he rapidly grew several inches and his frame began to fill out with an impressive musculature that his knight and masters-at-arms found a pleasure to train with various weapons and fighting styles. And they quickly realized that on the field of battle he was going to be a holy terror and he would be quite the asset within the heavy cavalry.
At the age of twenty-one, he was knighted in to the Order of the Shield Verdant and he was assigned to a conroi out of Ashforth. Over the next four years, he proved himself to be a most capable fighter, but when Logan was appointed to the Lord Commander's role, he knew he had reached as high as he ever would as the leader of a conroi of heavy cavalry. But such did not bother him, considering that he was happiest in the thick of it, not fiddling with the thousands of details involved in running the whole of the order and since then as Logan's most ardent supporter and the most reliable and effective blunt instrument at his disposal.
Writing Sample:
Dawn was a time of hidden activity in any castle. This was when bread was being withdrawn from ovens for the breakfasts of lords and common alike. This was when most rose to begin the day's tasks. And for Nick Miller, on this particular morning, it would be for him to make his way to the yards and go through some training with the oversized hunting knife he used as his primary bladed weapon since he'd been knighted.
And as such, it was in his full armour, such as it was, that he made his way to the yards. And when he got there, he saw he was far from alone. Facing one of the pells was a man - no, a boy on the edge of manhood - mercilessly hacking. And there was something that caught his eye and ear immediately. The impact was not of wood on wood, it was steel. And judging by the shower of splinters that was sent flying, it was not a rebated blade meant for training but a sharp one intended for killing. Granted, Nicholas always carried his live blade with him and he would use it to go through his cuts and guards, but to deliver strikes against a hardwood post? He would use its near twin, the one that did not have an edge or a tip yet weighed and moved the same as a sharp weapon.
As he neared the lad, there was more he noticed. First, he was well-dressed. Obviously nobility, and his attire was simple, as a man-at-arms would wear. And judging by his age, a squire, perhaps? Leaning against a wall, the archer crossed his arms, thus cradling his cased bow to his chest, and incidentally hiding the crossed keys of a Claviger and the badge of the Royal bodyguard as he did so.
Oh, he knew he looked nothing like what would call a typical knight. No leg harness, an open-faced sallet that had known better days on his head, a gambeson bearing salt stains, mere jack chains to ward his arms and a brigandine covered by a canvas jacket as his body armour, and the war-knife at his belt. Not to mention he looked decidedly common. Yet, he spoke. "Lad, I won't pretend to be a master swordsman, but you're doing a good job destroying the edge on that blade. But if you really want to cut that post down, there's some axes that would work a lot better."
Best Contact Method(s): Heliograph or semaphore; preferably the heliograph.
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 required character elements with the contact person?:
Character Name: Sir Tyber Sinclair
Age: 25
Gender: Male
Birthdate: 19 August 1427
City / Region: Ashworth, Shelbourne
House [ Birth, Marriage if applicable ]: Sinclair by birth
Played by:
Tom Hopper
Appearance:
To say Tyber is a large man would be an understatement of rare proportions. Standing a fraction of an inch under six and a half feet in height and weighing in at seventeen stones of bone, muscle and sinews even before he puts on his armour, he cuts an impressive figure regardless of how he is dressed.
As a requirement for the comfortable wearing of a helm, he keeps his sand-coloured hair and beard trimmed extremely short, both often no longer than a mere stubble. His dark eyes, under the heavy shelf of his brow, however, reveal a lively mind and a man with a sense of humour, but that is when they are not encased in steel.
When he is not in his armour, Tyber prefers simple, utilitarian attire and when the weather and the social situation permit, he goes about completely sleeveless, thus exposing his impressively muscled arms. However, it is not to say he is incapable of dressing up, for he does own a number of better made, proper attires for these occasions where he absolutely must appear like a young nobleman and respectable knight.
His armour, made by some of the finest smiths in Duefemi, bears no adornments whatsoever. The steel is plain and not even burnished to a shine. While he is proud of it and keeps it immaculately scoured and dent-free, he recognizes it as a tool of his trade. However, over it he wears a richly dyed and embroidered surcoat bearing the arms of his family and the badge of a knight of the Order of the Shield Verdant.
Personality:
At first glance, most people might be tempted to think Tyber just one more musclebound brute. He is direct, unsophisticated, loud and has little interest in courtly things. However, there are many things that are not immediately apparent.
Firstly, he is immensely loyal. Perhaps the royal family is only a distant concept to him but he is fiercely devoted to his family, his House, his people and his Duke. But mostly it is his family that is blessed with his loyalty. His brother, who also happens to be his lord commander, he would follow through the very fires of Hell if he would only ask and there are no extents he would not go to should his father or his uncle demand so.
However, out of all of House Sinclair, he finds himself fiercely protective of his female cousins. As he has no sisters, he did not have the particular experience of growing up with them but he is far from being devoid of cousins of the fairer sex and they have, in a way, been surrogate sisters to him when he grew up and to this day he treats them just that way still. Particular among them is Elizabeth and he takes a rare joy at bringing her pleasure by carrying her in ways her brother is unable or unwilling to.
And in that same vein, he is extremely fond of children, to say the least. Regardless of their birth or extraction, he will go out of his way to show them some kind of kindness and he has been known to even play some games with them just as a way to unwind.
When it comes to his trade, that of arms, he is exceedingly serious about it. He trains hard, he fights hard and he is a consummate professional. And as much as he enjoys testing himself, he despises a great deal about formal tournaments, particularly the pageantry. He has an especially virulent dislike for tourney knights and their ilk, these who claim to be masters of the trade of arms yet are not to be seen on any battlefield. He views jousting as artificial and contrived and single combat as most unrealistic. However, should a tourney involve a melee he would gleefully join that particular event as the trappings of 'proper chivalric conduct' are more than a little relaxed.
Specific Skills or Abilities:
Fighting: Either on foot or on horseback, Tyber is a veritable terror. While he is accurate with a lance, his technique is inelegant and would not win him any points on a tourney field. His other favoured weapons are his longsword, which bears a blade broader and heavier than the average, and his hammer. When dismounted, he will often wield both weapons at the same time to strike mercilessly at any foe who stands before him. He is also quite capable with a poleaxe, but he utterly despises flails and has refused to even train with them.
Riding, mounted combat and horse care: As a Knight of the Order of the Knight Verdant, he is an accomplished rider who truly does justice to the fine mounts the Sinclairs are known for raising; whether it is riding the lightest horse that will bear his bulk or sitting atop eighteen hands of destrier, the man might as well be born a centaur. Also, he is quite skilled at caring for horses, from trimming hooves to dealing with minor illnesses and injuries as well as the myriad tasks that pertain to these noble animals.
Unrefined strategist: There are few ways to put it that are nice or diplomatic, Tyber is a poor strategist. While he is more than capable of handling the logistics of a conroi of heavy cavalry and he can sense the flow of battle about him, he has no mind for the deeper concepts of warfare; in such matters, he is a blunt instrument who is better pointed in the right direction and sent to do what he does best.
Music: As unlikely as it may sound, he is an accomplished lute player, but his singing voice is passable at best and better-suited to raucous drinking songs, bawdy tunes or tales of exploits in a boisterous taproom than the more measured and restrained lays of a castle's hall.
Dancing: Extremely poor. As much as he enjoys the country dances of his homeland, he utterly lacks rhythm and grace in this particular endeavour. It has been a source of much teasing, especially considering that he moves as easily encased in steel as he does wearing naught but his braies.
Character History:
The second son of Carlton Sinclair, Tyber had understood from a young age that he was a spare to his older brother Logan. But that is not to say he resented him; in fact, they had always been close and they had started upon the path of knighthood together as pages and then as squires. That two brothers be in the service of the same knight at the same time was unusual, but their father had decreed that it would benefit them in the long run and it would do much to keep the bond between them in ways far stronger than ties of blood.
However, it became quickly apparent that unlike Logan, Tyber did not have the same mind for leading men and understanding the nuances of strategies. On a tactical level, he could make good use of a conroi that had already been tasked with a specific objective but such is the extent of his skills in this matter despite the ease with which he grasped the more physical aspects of warfare.
Indeed, early on it became obvious that Tyber was destined to be a beast of a man and when he reached his teenage years he rapidly grew several inches and his frame began to fill out with an impressive musculature that his knight and masters-at-arms found a pleasure to train with various weapons and fighting styles. And they quickly realized that on the field of battle he was going to be a holy terror and he would be quite the asset within the heavy cavalry.
At the age of twenty-one, he was knighted in to the Order of the Shield Verdant and he was assigned to a conroi out of Ashforth. Over the next four years, he proved himself to be a most capable fighter, but when Logan was appointed to the Lord Commander's role, he knew he had reached as high as he ever would as the leader of a conroi of heavy cavalry. But such did not bother him, considering that he was happiest in the thick of it, not fiddling with the thousands of details involved in running the whole of the order and since then as Logan's most ardent supporter and the most reliable and effective blunt instrument at his disposal.
Writing Sample:
Dawn was a time of hidden activity in any castle. This was when bread was being withdrawn from ovens for the breakfasts of lords and common alike. This was when most rose to begin the day's tasks. And for Nick Miller, on this particular morning, it would be for him to make his way to the yards and go through some training with the oversized hunting knife he used as his primary bladed weapon since he'd been knighted.
And as such, it was in his full armour, such as it was, that he made his way to the yards. And when he got there, he saw he was far from alone. Facing one of the pells was a man - no, a boy on the edge of manhood - mercilessly hacking. And there was something that caught his eye and ear immediately. The impact was not of wood on wood, it was steel. And judging by the shower of splinters that was sent flying, it was not a rebated blade meant for training but a sharp one intended for killing. Granted, Nicholas always carried his live blade with him and he would use it to go through his cuts and guards, but to deliver strikes against a hardwood post? He would use its near twin, the one that did not have an edge or a tip yet weighed and moved the same as a sharp weapon.
As he neared the lad, there was more he noticed. First, he was well-dressed. Obviously nobility, and his attire was simple, as a man-at-arms would wear. And judging by his age, a squire, perhaps? Leaning against a wall, the archer crossed his arms, thus cradling his cased bow to his chest, and incidentally hiding the crossed keys of a Claviger and the badge of the Royal bodyguard as he did so.
Oh, he knew he looked nothing like what would call a typical knight. No leg harness, an open-faced sallet that had known better days on his head, a gambeson bearing salt stains, mere jack chains to ward his arms and a brigandine covered by a canvas jacket as his body armour, and the war-knife at his belt. Not to mention he looked decidedly common. Yet, he spoke. "Lad, I won't pretend to be a master swordsman, but you're doing a good job destroying the edge on that blade. But if you really want to cut that post down, there's some axes that would work a lot better."
