Owner: memberlist.php?mode=viewprofile&u=227445
grifforik wrote:
bright || honorable || talented || optimistic
Snow grew up without family but surrounded by friends and this childhood cultivated a sense of loyalty in him that has yet to fade. He is happiest when given a job to do and takes genuine joy in his own skills, specifically those with a bow. He often shoots in contests; despite his obvious skill level, he is never apologetic when he wins as he simply appreciates the thrill of shooting for sport. This skill translates well into his job as he frequently uses his skills with a bow to catch poachers and the like. He is generally happy and has an excellent sense of humor, laughing brightly at nearly every joke offered. He loves to have a good time and despite how seriously he takes his job he understands when it's acceptable to take a night off. Snow understands that his job is hard but he doesn't mind it; there's joy in doing what he does and he knows he's accomplishing good things.
That being said Snow will sacrifice a great many things to keep the forests safe. Because he is always traveling it is sometimes difficult to maintain friendships but he understands that the forests are important as well. He is particularly close to the king and his two sons and feel as though they are family; since the king officially adopted him, he is family legally as well. Snow is calling "Snowsteel" for his innate ability to move silently through the trees and come down abruptly upon an enemy. Despite his good-natured temperament, Snow does have a tendency to arrogance, as he recognizes his skill and would not apologize for it. He has spent many years refining his skill with the bow and due to how integral it is to his job he practices often. Snow is diligent in doing what he has been told to do and trusts the orders given to him by the royal family implicitly.
Once upon a time, there was a young visect. He was poor, and his parents died long before he knew what a parent was. He grew up in an orphanage in the great city of Kings, in a land called Carse. This city was special, comprised of buildings and forest, for the Kingdom was a vast forest instead of land, and the people were elves, humans, and visects. This great forest of Carse was the only one of its kind, the only kingdom hidden beneath the vast cover of leaves that almost blotted out the sun. The castle held the oldest tree in the land, the Great tree; a giant twisting cypress tree, with roots taller than most castles. This was the home of the King and his nobles, and beyond that at the base of the tree, in the roots, was the great city. It was here that Snowsteel called home.
He was raised inside the Orphanage even though he was allowed to leave and go travel whenever he wanted. Exploration was encouraged, and learning was mandatory. Every day he had lessons, on reading, writing, and adding. But, on the days he did not have to learn, he chose to explore. Now, he wasn't the only one to do so, but he was the only youngling to do so on his own. The other orphans were kind to him, but none had his thirst for adventure. Most of them wished to learn, or to work, or to become a great hero. While Snow just wished to explore and travel the great forest. He could hear the songs of the trees, speak to the beast people, and feel when the earth was healthy or not. He wanted to learn about the different animals, and plants, how to tell if things were balanced, or if they needed time to recover. His teachers did their best to teach him the things he thirsted for but knew they would reach their limit soon. Unbenounced to him, they'd already spoken of it to a higher power. But, that's getting ahead of us.
One day, when lessons were canceled, and a holiday called for rest for the city, he took a lunch sack and skidded out of the orphanage at top speed, with all the intent to explore as much of the city as he could before bedtime.
He leapt over objects, and dodged people, until he came to the outskirts, where activity was almost non-existent, and people were few. It was here, pausing to admire a type of flower he'd never seen before, that he heard the cry for help, and laughter.
Quickly he grabbed a large stick off the ground and ran toward the sounds of distress, his heart thumping a million miles an hour. He was very young, and very brave, but not usually foolish. So when he reached the action, he slowed and crept around the side of the large building that obstructed his view of what was going on. It was then he spotted the younger boy, about his age, cornered at the back of the short alleyway, a black eye already swelling the right side of his face, and his eyes filled with anger. The boy looked elvin, and the bullies looked to be the same, though older, and far stronger than the cornered boy.
Instantly Snow grew angry, he stealthily climbed the side of the building, footfalls soft as falling snow, he reached the top and crept around the rim until he was directly over the boy and the bullies. He tensed, and the bully boy closest to him laughed and taunted the younger boy, shoving him back into the wall. Snow snarled, a terrifying sound that made them all lookup, and right when they did he dropped to land directly in front of the other boy, stick held out in front of him as he growled and glared at them.
They called him names, insulted him, but couldn't get close as he held them off with the stick, holding it like a club. Finally, the ring leader decided to rush him, they could get him if they all grabbed at once, and he felt his calm break a little. He was only a child after all. Right about then, a wild yell, followed by the sound of hooves thundering down on them, made the bully boys shout in fear and run away. Poor Snow almost did too, but he stood fast, keeping his protective stance from where the other boy had slid down to sit, too weak and tired to stand anymore. He wouldn't leave the boy unprotected, no matter how afraid he was.
He brandished the branch and panted as the sound of hooves slowed, then stopped and two armed guards and a noble boy walked out from behind the building. They called a name and the boy behind him gave a cry of relief and threw himself on the older one. Snow set his branch down, guessing he was done, and tried to slip away, uneasy in the presence of the nobles. But they didn't let him go, instead, they invited him to lunch, and went over his story of how he'd met the other boy.
To this day, Snow will laugh at that meeting. To think, that's how you meet a king's son? But running off bullies? Preposterous! True, non the less. But, almost unbeleivable!
After that meeting with Briar the Kings youngest, and Thorn, his oldest, Snow became a regular at the castle. He was invited to study with the other boys and encouraged to be their playmate, though he was closer to Briar than Thorn, due to age and the fact that Thorn was already in training to be the next king. He was very proper, and mannerly and very thoughtful, rarely speaking unless he'd thoroughly thought it over first as he didn't wish to either say something stupid or hurt anyone's feelings. While Briar was being trained as the Lord Marshall, which he would take over from his uncle, the Kings younger brother, when his own brother ascended the thrown.
Now, Snow might have just been a random playmate for the boys, but the King and his teachers knew that he needed training. And so the King decreed he would share the tutors with his own sons, and study in the magics of the forest. The entire kingdom of Carse required a forester to oversee it all, and the Kings middle brother, Sir Talon, was the current Forest Master, and in dire need of an apprentice. You see, to be the Master of the forest was to be an earth mage, and those were very few and far between. Even more, you had to be tied to the land, which Snow was. He was already bound to the land even though he didn't know it. The King saw it, as did his brothers, and so Snow began lessons with the Master of the Forest himself, and his best friend began training with the Lord Marshal, and Thorn with the King. And the three of them grew into young men (and Visect) together, and became brothers, if not in blood, then in spirit.
Time turns on, as it ever does, and Snow began to take more and more responsibilities as Forest Master. He would travel, something he loved to do, around all of Carse. Going forest to forest, to speak with the other foresters he commanded. He would feel the land, and test the waters. Talk to the trees and animals, see what needed time to replenish, and what needed hunting to keep the land thriving. He also spent quite a bit of time catching poachers. This job was a grim one, for it never ended well for the poachers, and more often than not they were not there to poach just animals, but people as well. You see, Carse had no slaves, it was a city built upon the backs of freed slaves, protected by a vast forest. It was almost impossible to get through to the city's of Carse if you held ill intentions, for the very land itself would expel you from her protective forest. However, that didn't mean it didn't happen.
It was such times as slaves made it through, that Snow would be warned of their coming by the land, and he would silently hunt them down, calling on his small army of foresters to help him stealthily take their quarry. Never a one was taken to the City of Kings, merely left alone in the forest, closest to the border between lands, to let the forest decide if they should live and escape, or die for their sins.
This, he became famous at, and where he truly earned his name Master of the forest. He was silent as falling snow when hunting, and swift as the west wind when he traveled the branch road above the ground, to stalk his prey. Never once, did a man escape once he was on their trail, and the City, towns, and villages of Carse spoke highly of their spotted protector. It was then that the King himself became ill, and before he passed away, named Snow as one of his sons in truth, not just the heart, and adopted him into his family. Giving him the family he'd always sought after, even if they were Elvin and fur-less.
The sound of falling leaves was the only noise besides the slow quiet breathing of the unseen figure in the top of a massive leafy tree. The men in the camp below the tree had no idea they were even being watched. The figure snorted silently at their noise, their trail of debris, and their loud voices that broke the peace of the forest and proclaimed them outsiders.
They were, one and all, the same as many that had come before them; Aggressive, violent, loud, rude, and confident. Confident that they could traipse about in his forests and not be caught. Confident their own aggressive and violent ways would prove themselves the better of the 'bird people' as they were called. For this, Snow snarled, silently baring his teeth with disdain. These people, these barbarians, knew nothing of his culture, nothing of his land, and nothing of his people. He was the Master of these forests, and he knew the second they stepped across the threshold and into these dense woods. The very land itself spoke to him, whispered of their pollution and cold iron weapons that harmed the forest and left a trail of orange pain behind it. Of broken trees, dead animals, and rot. He knew their type, Slavers. They had no doubt heard that Carse was easy pickings, with just a forest to protect them. Little did they know that the forest was alive with its own self-interest, and Snow and his people were in tune with that interest.
He'd come at the call of pain from the forest on the far side of the kingdom. Normally he stuck to his rounds, but something in this party had begun to leave rot behind in the forest, stealing magic from the land itself, and leaving gaping wounds of loss within the path they'd taken. Causing the forest here to cry out in pain, and Snowsteel to gather his foresters to come to its aid.
He studied the people below him, curious to see what they would do next. Their sentries were already gone. Picked off by his foresters (11 men and 4 women, hand picked to travel with him when danger threatened the land). They needed to know what to expect, was their a corrupt mage? Or some sort of cursed object? He needed to know how to handle things before they went in. The band below him was about 20 to 25 men, 34 horses and 15 large canines that didn't seem to bark or try to chase things. They were eerily silent, actually, and that had him very curious as to what they were.
Movement below signaled that the camp had finally realized the sentries were gone. He tensed, muscles ready for action, but needing to stay completely still. He knew they would never see him, he blended perfectly with his surroundings, the gray of his body matched the bark of the trees and the pattern broke up his form, as well as hi green and brown clothing matched the leaves. He and his people could take them all out, right then, if they all had a clear shot. For they were all spread out in the trees, watching, waiting for his signal.
Someone, someone he hadn't noticed before, stormed out of the tent. The woman yelled insults at the men, their language was guttural and foreign to him, but the message was clear enough. She was angry, and the men were at fault. She gestured to the forest, and a sickly green light poured from her hands, killing the vegetation all around her. The men backed up as she smiled, and said sweet sounding things. They backpedaled and bowed and scraped, and ran off to do whatever she'd asked.
Finally, he'd found the source. Easy enough to take her out, he thought. They would need to get her into the open, and if they could trap her... they would have to kill her. He regretted that, for everything should live until taken down naturally, but she was an unnatural creature and was killing his forest.
The sound of an owl hooting softly in its sleep signaled his people to back off and meet up further away. He silently slithered back from the sight of the ground and made his way on the branch road toward their meeting spot.
...to be continued.
Mutations: leopard tail - rare
.png)
.png)
.png)
.png)
