Cimbrin Ivorskin and Baengrar Khoryne

Nathraiben · Cimbrin Ivorskin and Baengrar Khoryne

(Hm, since I don't know a thing about Rhydin, I'm not sure you'll have any use for them, but as mentioned in the other thread, I just had to get that waste creative energy out of my nervous system Rolling Eyes

Of course, the story barely started to evolve, and next to nothing is revealed about the characters, but I really have to go back to working now Embarassed

)

Name: Cimbrin Ivorskin
Race: Human
Class/Occupation: Cleric (sort of)
Age: 21
Family: His mother died more than a decade ago and he knows nothing about his father, or any other relative at that.

Name: Baengrar Khoryne
Race: Human
Class/Occupation: Paladin/High Priest of Nir'Reene (a minor Goddess of Vengeance and Merciless Justice)
Age: 57
Family: He left behind his former life more than 45 years ago, severing all links to his blood relatives. He considers the followers of Nir'Reene his sole family now.

Cimbrin Ivorskin had never been a man of importance.

He had been living in relative seclusion ever since, sheltered by his late mother's riches and the faint traces of her very being left in everything she had touched while still walking the lands of mortals. Content with spending his days on tending for his beloved gardens, he had never sought neither adventure nor even the company of others, for inner peace was his calling and bitter-sweet solitude his eternal companion.

Or so he always thought.

"I beseech you, my Lord!" Leaning on the handle of his shovel, Cimbrin felt quite alienated staring down to the man kneeling at his feet, unsettled not only by the fact that the sturdy figure clad in finest robes and armor would bow before a frail boy, but above all by the unaccustomed honorific. Not even good Fandelle, the elderly wench who always managed to walk the thin line between caring for her young master and intruding on his self-imposed privacy, had ever called him by anything other than simply his given name, yet this total stranger went as far as adressing him as Lord? "Bear with this humble servant's presence, if only for him to atone for his inaptitude in this last score of years."

Shouldering his shovel, Cimbrin heedlessly turned around, more concerned about the delicate sapling he was about to plant than this obviously lunatic crank kneeling in his garden's dirt. "Should you be in need of a place to spent the night at, please consider my home yours - though if it's company you seek, I fear you have come to the wrong man, good Sir." He felt a bit uneasy realizing that this strange fellow was not simply looking for a night's lodging, nor that he would be rid of him just by asking him to leave.

"Should this be your mocking retribution for my inability to seek you out any sooner, my Lord, I dearly beg your forgiveness." A short glance over his shoulder told young Cimbrin that his peculiar guest had not moved an inch, not even to lift his head when the target of his unseemly deference had started to walk away from him. Following a faint sense of guilt upon seing the poor man staying true to his attitude, the young recluse slowed his steps until he finally stopped a fair distance from the kneeling traveller.

With a deep sigh he turned to once more face him. "I do not know what you are talking about, as well as I am quite sure you are mistaking me for someone else. But I dare say whoever it is you were looking for, he would not want you to further stain this fine tabard with my freshly manured dirt, now would he?" And after a moment of awkward silence between the two of them, he sheepishly added: "So, would you please get up, now?"

SorceressAshura

Very good writting, though I feel like I'm reading it from an excerpt.. Wheres the rest of it??? I want to read more!

The beauty about Rhydin, was that since there were so many people role playing in so many different types places and characters... That whatever story they had to tell, it would fit into the world. Someone else could take a piece from one character's life and assimulate it into their own. Please continue when you can.

Nathraiben

(Uh - even more fragmentary than last time, but I'm soooo tired right now - screw my job, I feel like I got hit by a car. Twice. Head on. Rolling Eyes

)

Again, an unpleasant stillness hung in the air between the skinny boy and his mysterious visitor, until the latter raised his eyes at last, his slightly wrinkled face filled with both bewilderment and curiousity. The patches of finely woven chainmail he wore between the different layers of almost ridiculously expensive finery clinked melodically as he lifted himself from Cimbrin's fresh soil to finally be on a level with him. Well, as long as one may call a bear of a man towering nearly a foot over his host 'on a level'. "Could it be that you really don't know who I am, my Lord?"

Cimbrin - unimpressed by the stranger's stature but all the more taken aback by his stubborn purposefulness in calling a simple gardener his Lord - shrugged his shoulders helplessly. "It could be, yes - especially since I wouldn't even know where I should have learnt about your identity, for I'm rather sure we've never ever met before, good Sir. Care to explain yourself?" Not that he really minded - after all, there was a young tree waiting for his tender care.

For a moment the sturdy guest seemed inclined to heed Cimbrin's request, only to shake his head and instead settle for a more than vague: "I beg your pardon, my Lord, but there sure is a good reason behind you not knowing, and I dare not question this decision." Who ever made this decision of his or why, the stern look on the old geezer's face revealed just how serious he seemed to be about this, so the boy did not further press the matter. Of course, there was still the possibility that this persistent stranger was simply a bit off the wall.

"Here..." Finally giving up any hope of easily getting rid of this intrusion to his reclusive lifestyle he shoved his gardening tool flat against the taller man's chest, smiling. "Since you don't seem willing to leave me alone anytime soon, at least try to make yourself useful."

***** ***** *****

Baengrar silently observed the good-natured boy, his feelings an odd mixture of disappointment and intrigued anticipation. This first encounter definitely didn't meet his expectations at all, he had envisioned this scene over and over again since the very day he had set out to find this young man, but not even once had he though things would turn out this way. The youth seemed to be completely oblivious to whom he was and why he had sought after him for so long, but strangely enough for now the old priest felt at least content with having completed this first part of his quest, as unexpected as the outcome might be.

"So, you are not going to tell me why you're here, are you?" With the loving care of a father nurturing his newborn son, the current resident of Ivorskin Manor gently patted the freshly piled patch of earth harboring the newest addition to the carefully layed out - and still gracefully natural in appearance - gardens. "Maybe you could at least te... oh, would you please fetch me the watering can?"

The most preposterous thought of a High Priest being given a lowly task like this by a mere boy in his early twenties nearly brought a smile to Baengrars grave face, though he followed the simple request without hesitation. Actually, even without the young Lord realizing, he still felt he owed him both respect and obedience.

"Baengrar Khoryne." He answered the boy's unfinished question as he handed over the enamel can some time later. "H... A Priest of Nir'Reene, bearer of Her sword and herald of Her wisdom."