Post by Rebel on Oct 13, 2015 0:17:56 GMT -5
Player: Rebel
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 required character elements with the contact person?: Working on it!
Character Name: Turif ibn Rassad al-Jasham
Age: 27
Gender: Male
Birthdate: December 29th, 1399
City / Region: Nomadic, Rohari
House [ Birth, Marriage if applicable ]: al-Jasham
Played by: Ayman Moussa
Appearance:
Tall, dark, and handsome fits the bill for describing Turif but would be somewhat incomplete. He is a bit stockier, a bit less exotic, a bit more dangerous. Turif believes his presence is his greatest strength, and that comes with the size and strength of his body. He keeps himself surprisingly well groomed, and if needed in a formal event will usually turn up impeccably dressed - perhaps he has help, though he is quiet about it and doesn't seek praise as far as his looks are concerned. He is most often seen wearing clothing appropriate for horseback and dealing with any manual effort, rather than any ceremonial or fancier wear.
Personality: Turif, despite never having been heir to his tride, always seemed to be just a bit better at everything growing up than his male cousin of his age, the heir. A bit better with his weapons, a bit better with his horse, a bit better with women. When he was younger, this made him cocky and impulsive, but having grown older, he has been more quiet about his skills. He is still very confident, but would rather surprise someone by it instead of flashing it in their face.
Though not unfriendly, exactly, Turif has never been a particularly approachable or sociable man. Neither does he anger anyone, nor does he go out of his way to befriend them. He prefers to deal with people, than to associate. He is thus also unskilled at moments requiring more finesse or political stratagem. He is not good at curbing his opinion or toadying, something he'd not really been expected to do much of in the last decade.
At a glance, people might think they know him, as they know his history, but truthfully Turif is more secretive. He doesn't expand on or really acknowledge his feelings, he thinks of the next steps and the next plan of action for the tribe but not really stopping to savor the here and now. He is content in letting himself be consumed in constant effort and also constant physical training. Being around men for the most of his time also means he can be a bit rough around the ladies, less of a filter, not knowing the most romantic way to do something.
He is not a man who loves change, and he also does not care for advancement of science or other modern things. He likes life well enough as it is and holds the status quo. Usually, he keeps himself supremely well tempered, but with the death of his uncle and the perils that has brought for his tribe, he has become a bit less... stable. Though perhaps frightening to opponents, Turif's loyalty and care for his people have rarely been doubted.
Specific Skills or Abilities:
- Horse-riding
- Single Combat
- Leading/commanding in combat
- Skilled archer
- Basic healing (enough for what's needed when far away from the tribe)
Character History:
Turif was born the oldest of eventual 5 children, member of a tribe whose name is from the many patriarchs of his family, with the current Emir as being his uncle, Rizul al-Jasham. Given his family, perhaps he knew luck and wealth from an early age, but being part of a nomatic tribe meant nothing was ever a certainty. To keep the young lad occupied, his uncle had himself a son of the same age, Gafir, the heir to their tribe, and the two boys were raised together.
For the most part, Turif’s directive as he grew was to be a good friend, a loyal cousin, to Gafir, whom would eventually be their Emir. He learned the arts of fighting of course, and proper manners of address. Eventually he was privy to matters of business, and taken on scouting trips with his father, uncle and cousin. Their tribe stayed in one spot for a while, but often moved, never too far from the oasis that they claimed and defended, but expanding into various regions.
By his teenage years, their tribe had found another, larger Oasis, currently being defended by another nomadic tribe, though smaller. This was Turif’s first real hand at combat, which saw him rather well wounded, and showed the young lads - he and his cousin - that neither were invisible, and that battle was raw and real with consequences. For Turif, it inspired him to train harder, to work on his body, to work on his strategies in battle, to become better with his weapons. He asked of his father to be sure to include him in the future, as he knew he needed more experience.
Before his cousin was sent to Zahran as a hostage, the two boys spent much time together, training, travelling, getting their hand in every cookie jar they could manage. In their training, though, it seemed Turif was always a step ahead of Gafir. It wasn’t blatant, and not noticed at first, but he seemed to have a thing with succeeding at whatever he was doing, a slight bit more than his heir cousin. Sometimes it got the boys in brawls with one another, but given they were tightly knit, and loyal family members to one another, never was it serious. By the time they were teenagers proper, though, Gafir was sent to Zahran as a hostage to the Caliph, Qasim al-Khalid.
This separation was good at first, as emotions and testosterone ran high in both males and they were testing the bounds of their friendships and competitive streak. However, before long, Turif missed his cousin dearly. For his own siblings, though, it meant he would be able to spend more time with them, particularly his closest brother in age. He started to share all those things he’d learned, as well as his time and company, with his brother.
Time passed as it was to do, with some small skirmishes lost, and many won. Their tribe was growing, assimilating with some smaller bands, and also capturing some hostages of their own. Their territory and influence had been great enough, however, to attract a larger threat. A conflicting tribe mounted an attack against them in the dead of night. It was a fight that was bloody on both sides, but quick. In the end, there were many deaths, which included his father. The leading family was in grief, but as all things eventually it would pass. It only meant that now Turif was the eldest male of his family, and in their tribe as a whole second to his Emir in Gafir’s absence.
The tribe for many years following became rather unstable. Key players having been felled in the fight had meant less loyalty to the family that lead their roving band. Further, they had taken in some of the men from the battle, and those could not be trusted. Stability henceforth never truly came. The culture of the tribe shifted to one more akin to survival of the fittest, and one’s strength gave their voice a better consideration. Turif himself thrived in this environment, strong and fit, but he worried at times for his sisters, his youngest brother, and most of all his aging uncle.
Turif insisted that his Uncle give him more power, acting for all intents and purposes as his right hand man, involved in most if not all things. Though to some it seemed as though Turif were taking advantage of Rizul’s weakness, in truth he acted to cover it up and keep his family from being further attacked. He worked closely with Rizul to be faithful to his wishes, and for the most part the duo were successful. The topic of marriages even came and went for some of Turif’s siblings, though his own match was ignored for the time being, with other things on his mind. That said, he did get close to Linah, his cousin, despite his intentions.
Eventually, Linah was sent to the capital, perhaps at the behest of his uncle. Soon thereafter, he was given the lead of a group of men, a band of scouts, whose mission was to push further out towards the border, to find resources, threats, and other strategic points. He was glad for this appointment, honored to do such a duty for his tribe, though doubted if it were a good idea to be so away from his uncle. Nonetheless, confident in his abilities by more than a bit, he went ahead with the group. Their work kept their people safe. They were fighters, but their tribe consisted of a varied sort, of which some yes were fighters, but their key to independent wealth had been their herdsmen. Given their proximity to water they’d always been able to keep strong herds. It was yet another thing that Turif was on the look-out for… predators whether they be men or animals to their horses.
During his time with the group, he had a few opportunities to travel to Zahran, both for business and for miscellaneous tasks as set by his uncle. There also was the only time in years he’d a chance to see his cousin again. It seemed they had been kept apart, for whenever else Gafir might have been chanced to go visit home. At times, even the Caliph himself called upon his group, via his Emir of course, to help serve as reinforcements where needed. Turif was honored by the opportunity, and also that the Caliph hadn’t tried to put an end to their nomadic ways. Much of his time henceforth was spent with his men, which perhaps hardened him away from his emotions, and made him vulnerable to the soft words of a woman which were few and far between.
In his prolonged absences, and simply with time, threats to his uncle’s head and his family’s claim to head their tribe had come more frequently. The divide most often came around the issue of the future of their tribe, whether they ought to adopt some of the western ways or whether this was a grave mistake and disservice to their roots. A third faction is pushing for claiming a nearby village and build a city. Such divisive opinions, and failing loyalties, were a dangerous mix.
Messages were sent to Zahran to alert Gafir to his father’s failing health and the dangerous situation of their tribe. While their economy was solid, a mixture of herders and tapestry weavers, the future of the group as a whole seemed in question. Political ploys were in play, and already the head of one family among them had made it known he believed Rizul incompetent. As such, foul play was suspected when one morning their Emir, Rizul, was found dead in his bed. Poison was a cowardly way, but at least it afforded them some moments of quiet before word got out. Just enough time was found to call for Gafir to immediately make his way home.
As he had always been groomed to do, Turif passed the reigns of his group to his own right hand man, in order to assist his cousin now Emir in establishing himself. Among grieving for his father, he had to show his dominance, convene with his allies, contact his business partners as well as simply getting used to being at home again. These were busy times for the family and the tribe, and try as they might, those who had made themselves most vocal split to join the al-Azariya tribe. This was a blow in the gut for the family and the tribe, one that has grown further resentment toward their rivals, and uncertainty about the al-Jasham leadership.
It took months to settle affairs, but eventually life had to regain some normalcy. The bulk of their builders had gone to the al-Azariya tribe, but thankfully their herders and weavers were left which kept their economy intact. Given their strategic position, they were able to deal business with those westerners around the border, and disrupt that of other tribes, or at least cut themselves a profit for it. Just when it seemed his family was back on track, a realization he’d been ignoring came to light: he was now heir of their tribe. He needed to go to Zahran, a hostage to the Caliph. Leaving his siblings behind, abandoning his cousin and Emir, his roving group, and all this to play politics and waste away uselessly… well it didn’t sit well with him at all, despite his neutral loyalty to the Caliph.
Writing Sample: She swiftly made her way forward to come greet first her father. Gathering her skirts to move more adeptly, she paused only before him and gave a bow. "Good morning, my Caliph, father."
Amirah, like her sisters and Inayla, was not wearing her veil. Instead it was lowered to her neck. She rose then if uninterrupted to serve a greeting to the others, first Bashir. "Good morning, brother," and then to Sabriyah and the other women. She did not question with her eyes what this was all about, though she felt much as to ask her if she knew. "Good morning, Sabriyah, Leilah, Inayla. I hope the morning finds you well." She gave a small smile then drew herself to the side. She could see from there all the food and it grew hunger in her belly but she knew matters of business came first.
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 required character elements with the contact person?: Working on it!
Character Name: Turif ibn Rassad al-Jasham
Age: 27
Gender: Male
Birthdate: December 29th, 1399
City / Region: Nomadic, Rohari
House [ Birth, Marriage if applicable ]: al-Jasham
Played by: Ayman Moussa
Appearance:
Tall, dark, and handsome fits the bill for describing Turif but would be somewhat incomplete. He is a bit stockier, a bit less exotic, a bit more dangerous. Turif believes his presence is his greatest strength, and that comes with the size and strength of his body. He keeps himself surprisingly well groomed, and if needed in a formal event will usually turn up impeccably dressed - perhaps he has help, though he is quiet about it and doesn't seek praise as far as his looks are concerned. He is most often seen wearing clothing appropriate for horseback and dealing with any manual effort, rather than any ceremonial or fancier wear.
Personality: Turif, despite never having been heir to his tride, always seemed to be just a bit better at everything growing up than his male cousin of his age, the heir. A bit better with his weapons, a bit better with his horse, a bit better with women. When he was younger, this made him cocky and impulsive, but having grown older, he has been more quiet about his skills. He is still very confident, but would rather surprise someone by it instead of flashing it in their face.
Though not unfriendly, exactly, Turif has never been a particularly approachable or sociable man. Neither does he anger anyone, nor does he go out of his way to befriend them. He prefers to deal with people, than to associate. He is thus also unskilled at moments requiring more finesse or political stratagem. He is not good at curbing his opinion or toadying, something he'd not really been expected to do much of in the last decade.
At a glance, people might think they know him, as they know his history, but truthfully Turif is more secretive. He doesn't expand on or really acknowledge his feelings, he thinks of the next steps and the next plan of action for the tribe but not really stopping to savor the here and now. He is content in letting himself be consumed in constant effort and also constant physical training. Being around men for the most of his time also means he can be a bit rough around the ladies, less of a filter, not knowing the most romantic way to do something.
He is not a man who loves change, and he also does not care for advancement of science or other modern things. He likes life well enough as it is and holds the status quo. Usually, he keeps himself supremely well tempered, but with the death of his uncle and the perils that has brought for his tribe, he has become a bit less... stable. Though perhaps frightening to opponents, Turif's loyalty and care for his people have rarely been doubted.
Specific Skills or Abilities:
- Horse-riding
- Single Combat
- Leading/commanding in combat
- Skilled archer
- Basic healing (enough for what's needed when far away from the tribe)
Character History:
Turif was born the oldest of eventual 5 children, member of a tribe whose name is from the many patriarchs of his family, with the current Emir as being his uncle, Rizul al-Jasham. Given his family, perhaps he knew luck and wealth from an early age, but being part of a nomatic tribe meant nothing was ever a certainty. To keep the young lad occupied, his uncle had himself a son of the same age, Gafir, the heir to their tribe, and the two boys were raised together.
For the most part, Turif’s directive as he grew was to be a good friend, a loyal cousin, to Gafir, whom would eventually be their Emir. He learned the arts of fighting of course, and proper manners of address. Eventually he was privy to matters of business, and taken on scouting trips with his father, uncle and cousin. Their tribe stayed in one spot for a while, but often moved, never too far from the oasis that they claimed and defended, but expanding into various regions.
By his teenage years, their tribe had found another, larger Oasis, currently being defended by another nomadic tribe, though smaller. This was Turif’s first real hand at combat, which saw him rather well wounded, and showed the young lads - he and his cousin - that neither were invisible, and that battle was raw and real with consequences. For Turif, it inspired him to train harder, to work on his body, to work on his strategies in battle, to become better with his weapons. He asked of his father to be sure to include him in the future, as he knew he needed more experience.
Before his cousin was sent to Zahran as a hostage, the two boys spent much time together, training, travelling, getting their hand in every cookie jar they could manage. In their training, though, it seemed Turif was always a step ahead of Gafir. It wasn’t blatant, and not noticed at first, but he seemed to have a thing with succeeding at whatever he was doing, a slight bit more than his heir cousin. Sometimes it got the boys in brawls with one another, but given they were tightly knit, and loyal family members to one another, never was it serious. By the time they were teenagers proper, though, Gafir was sent to Zahran as a hostage to the Caliph, Qasim al-Khalid.
This separation was good at first, as emotions and testosterone ran high in both males and they were testing the bounds of their friendships and competitive streak. However, before long, Turif missed his cousin dearly. For his own siblings, though, it meant he would be able to spend more time with them, particularly his closest brother in age. He started to share all those things he’d learned, as well as his time and company, with his brother.
Time passed as it was to do, with some small skirmishes lost, and many won. Their tribe was growing, assimilating with some smaller bands, and also capturing some hostages of their own. Their territory and influence had been great enough, however, to attract a larger threat. A conflicting tribe mounted an attack against them in the dead of night. It was a fight that was bloody on both sides, but quick. In the end, there were many deaths, which included his father. The leading family was in grief, but as all things eventually it would pass. It only meant that now Turif was the eldest male of his family, and in their tribe as a whole second to his Emir in Gafir’s absence.
The tribe for many years following became rather unstable. Key players having been felled in the fight had meant less loyalty to the family that lead their roving band. Further, they had taken in some of the men from the battle, and those could not be trusted. Stability henceforth never truly came. The culture of the tribe shifted to one more akin to survival of the fittest, and one’s strength gave their voice a better consideration. Turif himself thrived in this environment, strong and fit, but he worried at times for his sisters, his youngest brother, and most of all his aging uncle.
Turif insisted that his Uncle give him more power, acting for all intents and purposes as his right hand man, involved in most if not all things. Though to some it seemed as though Turif were taking advantage of Rizul’s weakness, in truth he acted to cover it up and keep his family from being further attacked. He worked closely with Rizul to be faithful to his wishes, and for the most part the duo were successful. The topic of marriages even came and went for some of Turif’s siblings, though his own match was ignored for the time being, with other things on his mind. That said, he did get close to Linah, his cousin, despite his intentions.
Eventually, Linah was sent to the capital, perhaps at the behest of his uncle. Soon thereafter, he was given the lead of a group of men, a band of scouts, whose mission was to push further out towards the border, to find resources, threats, and other strategic points. He was glad for this appointment, honored to do such a duty for his tribe, though doubted if it were a good idea to be so away from his uncle. Nonetheless, confident in his abilities by more than a bit, he went ahead with the group. Their work kept their people safe. They were fighters, but their tribe consisted of a varied sort, of which some yes were fighters, but their key to independent wealth had been their herdsmen. Given their proximity to water they’d always been able to keep strong herds. It was yet another thing that Turif was on the look-out for… predators whether they be men or animals to their horses.
During his time with the group, he had a few opportunities to travel to Zahran, both for business and for miscellaneous tasks as set by his uncle. There also was the only time in years he’d a chance to see his cousin again. It seemed they had been kept apart, for whenever else Gafir might have been chanced to go visit home. At times, even the Caliph himself called upon his group, via his Emir of course, to help serve as reinforcements where needed. Turif was honored by the opportunity, and also that the Caliph hadn’t tried to put an end to their nomadic ways. Much of his time henceforth was spent with his men, which perhaps hardened him away from his emotions, and made him vulnerable to the soft words of a woman which were few and far between.
In his prolonged absences, and simply with time, threats to his uncle’s head and his family’s claim to head their tribe had come more frequently. The divide most often came around the issue of the future of their tribe, whether they ought to adopt some of the western ways or whether this was a grave mistake and disservice to their roots. A third faction is pushing for claiming a nearby village and build a city. Such divisive opinions, and failing loyalties, were a dangerous mix.
Messages were sent to Zahran to alert Gafir to his father’s failing health and the dangerous situation of their tribe. While their economy was solid, a mixture of herders and tapestry weavers, the future of the group as a whole seemed in question. Political ploys were in play, and already the head of one family among them had made it known he believed Rizul incompetent. As such, foul play was suspected when one morning their Emir, Rizul, was found dead in his bed. Poison was a cowardly way, but at least it afforded them some moments of quiet before word got out. Just enough time was found to call for Gafir to immediately make his way home.
As he had always been groomed to do, Turif passed the reigns of his group to his own right hand man, in order to assist his cousin now Emir in establishing himself. Among grieving for his father, he had to show his dominance, convene with his allies, contact his business partners as well as simply getting used to being at home again. These were busy times for the family and the tribe, and try as they might, those who had made themselves most vocal split to join the al-Azariya tribe. This was a blow in the gut for the family and the tribe, one that has grown further resentment toward their rivals, and uncertainty about the al-Jasham leadership.
It took months to settle affairs, but eventually life had to regain some normalcy. The bulk of their builders had gone to the al-Azariya tribe, but thankfully their herders and weavers were left which kept their economy intact. Given their strategic position, they were able to deal business with those westerners around the border, and disrupt that of other tribes, or at least cut themselves a profit for it. Just when it seemed his family was back on track, a realization he’d been ignoring came to light: he was now heir of their tribe. He needed to go to Zahran, a hostage to the Caliph. Leaving his siblings behind, abandoning his cousin and Emir, his roving group, and all this to play politics and waste away uselessly… well it didn’t sit well with him at all, despite his neutral loyalty to the Caliph.
Writing Sample: She swiftly made her way forward to come greet first her father. Gathering her skirts to move more adeptly, she paused only before him and gave a bow. "Good morning, my Caliph, father."
Amirah, like her sisters and Inayla, was not wearing her veil. Instead it was lowered to her neck. She rose then if uninterrupted to serve a greeting to the others, first Bashir. "Good morning, brother," and then to Sabriyah and the other women. She did not question with her eyes what this was all about, though she felt much as to ask her if she knew. "Good morning, Sabriyah, Leilah, Inayla. I hope the morning finds you well." She gave a small smile then drew herself to the side. She could see from there all the food and it grew hunger in her belly but she knew matters of business came first.
