Difference between revisions of "Sparte Fatchforth"
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|Description=Standing taller than most at just over six feet, Sparte still manages to be unimposing. He is skinny, his expressions tend to be exagerated to the point of goofiness, and he generally gives the impression of being haphazardly thrown together no matter how nicely dressed. He has bright green hazel eyes with bushy eyebrows, his hair an uncombed shock of burgundy that tends to stick out to the left side in a permanent cowlick, and he has a toothy grin that shows off how his left incisor is a whole quarter inch longer than his right. | |Description=Standing taller than most at just over six feet, Sparte still manages to be unimposing. He is skinny, his expressions tend to be exagerated to the point of goofiness, and he generally gives the impression of being haphazardly thrown together no matter how nicely dressed. He has bright green hazel eyes with bushy eyebrows, his hair an uncombed shock of burgundy that tends to stick out to the left side in a permanent cowlick, and he has a toothy grin that shows off how his left incisor is a whole quarter inch longer than his right. | ||
| − | {w({ | + | {w({nThere are speckles of paint on Sparte's clothes. Little drops, here and there. Happy colors.{w){n |
|Personality=Energetic and courageous, smart as a brick and about as imposing. He tries, he really tries. | |Personality=Energetic and courageous, smart as a brick and about as imposing. He tries, he really tries. | ||
|Background=Sparte's origins are unclear, and his story almost didn't happen at all. At the age of five he somehow ended up lost in the woods, fallen through some brambles, and struck his head on a rock. The woodsman that found him was astonished Sparte still lived at all, and took him to the nearest village. Nobody recognized the boy, it was if he'd just fallen out of a tree one day. Once he came to, he seemed to be mute. Not a word came from the boy to help. | |Background=Sparte's origins are unclear, and his story almost didn't happen at all. At the age of five he somehow ended up lost in the woods, fallen through some brambles, and struck his head on a rock. The woodsman that found him was astonished Sparte still lived at all, and took him to the nearest village. Nobody recognized the boy, it was if he'd just fallen out of a tree one day. Once he came to, he seemed to be mute. Not a word came from the boy to help. | ||
Revision as of 03:03, 20 September 2017
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| Sparte Fatchforth | |
|---|---|
| Social Rank | 8 |
| Fealty | Crownsworn "Crownsworn" is not in the list of possible values (Redrain, Valardin, Grayson, Thrax, Pravus, Lyceum, Crown) for this property.
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| House | Fatchforth |
| Gender | Male |
| Age | 18 |
| Religion | Pantheon |
| Vocation | Soldier |
| Height | 6'1 |
| Hair Color | Burgundy |
| Eye Color | Hazel |
| Skintone | Rose |
| Journals | |
| Authored By / Featured In | |
| Active | |
Description
Standing taller than most at just over six feet, Sparte still manages to be unimposing. He is skinny, his expressions tend to be exagerated to the point of goofiness, and he generally gives the impression of being haphazardly thrown together no matter how nicely dressed. He has bright green hazel eyes with bushy eyebrows, his hair an uncombed shock of burgundy that tends to stick out to the left side in a permanent cowlick, and he has a toothy grin that shows off how his left incisor is a whole quarter inch longer than his right.
{w({nThere are speckles of paint on Sparte's clothes. Little drops, here and there. Happy colors.{w){n
Personality
Energetic and courageous, smart as a brick and about as imposing. He tries, he really tries.
Background
Sparte's origins are unclear, and his story almost didn't happen at all. At the age of five he somehow ended up lost in the woods, fallen through some brambles, and struck his head on a rock. The woodsman that found him was astonished Sparte still lived at all, and took him to the nearest village. Nobody recognized the boy, it was if he'd just fallen out of a tree one day. Once he came to, he seemed to be mute. Not a word came from the boy to help.
The Fatchforths, an industrious family, did a great deal of business traveling between farms and meeting with other farmers. Thinking that a boy with such colorful hair and skin should be easy to find the family of, and one marm having a soft spot for the boy, they took him on and he traveled with them. After several villages without luck, the boy started to once again find his voice, but memories to go with it were lacking beyond his being called Sparte. Feeling guilty for their kindness, Sparte began to pitch in despite his youth and showed an energy for hard work well beyond his years. By the time the Fatchforthes had visited the last village on their route, they had decided they would take the boy on themselves.
The next decade of Sparte's life went by with him doing just that, as an adoptive member of the family. With an easy smile and stamina to outlast a horse, Sparte did his part.
The one thing he always had taken a shine to outside of his labors was stories. Tall tales of far off places and the things that go bump in the night. The scar under his hair itches sometimes when he listens, which is how he knows the story is a good one.
Eventually the desire to be in a story of his own outweighed the dangers, and he parted way from the Fatchforths. Answering a call for Iron Guard recruits, he made his way to Arx even as further dangers began creeping towards the city. Maybe it wasn't the safest of plans, but... "At least it won't be boring!"
