Kale

[matra]

Aaron Johnson

NAME: Kale
TITLE: Resident of Solraya
AFFILIATION: Solraya
AGE: 21
OCCUPATION: Farmer / Stablehand

LIKES: soil, growth, solitude, animals, wind
DISLIKES: winter, leeches, insects, weeds, potatoes
QUIRKS/HABITS: talks to animals and plants, runs hands through hair when stressed
FEARS: poor harvests, urbanization

TOXIC SECRET: doesn't think the wolf is evil

FATHER: Gavin {Deceased}
MOTHER: Alana
OTHERS: ---

HISTORY: Kale was born to his parents one harsh winter when food was scarce. His birth came at the near cost of his mother's life and his father never forgave him for that. Gavin's cruelty knew no mercy and Kale grew up in a life of neglect. His mother could do little more than keep him alive and shelter him from what little she could, but Gavin's cruelty extended to her as well. Kale was left to raise himself.

As the only child to a farmer, and disliked at that, he had to grow up quickly. His chores were numerous and he scarce had time to himself. Alas, he learned the hard labor and toils of the earth and quickly came to befriend the few things in life that offered freedom from his father's watchful eyes. Corn fields became giant mazes in which he could be lost for hours. Stables became reinforced castles with a moats of manure. Forests the ultimate adventure. There was little doubt that Kale was a child who lived so completely within his head that his words were nearly forgotten.

His bond with nature was something that no one could sever, but as his parents had no additional children the farm always took precedence. It became even more of a burden the night his father was taken by the wolf, leaving his family's livelihood within his hands.

Since then, he's been able to repair his broken relationship with his mother, but his hands are full with tending the small farm. Whatever free time he finds is valuable. Every moment a treat.

RP SAMPLE: The air was thick. It strangled him, wrapping the thought of the approaching storm around his body as if not to be ignored. And he found comfort in it. A smile slid across his lips as he rest against the base of a tree. One leg propped up against his chest while the other tucked beneath its partner. His arms fell haphazardly by his sides as he leaned the crown of his head against the bark of the giant elm. Hair curled about his cheeks; swaying in the thick warmth of the spring breeze filled with warning of the dark clouds above.

A sigh escaped him. It slipped across the edges of his lips and was lost to the wind. There was little use in lingering for much longer. The trees were already shivering with the onset of the changing weather and while they could tolerate and even use the rain, there was little it could do for him other than to chill him to the bone and leave him with a nasty cold. Reluctantly he lifted to his feet and dusted himself off. Standing now, he began the slow walk back to his farmhouse and whatever meal his mother had prepared.

The wind whipped across his face. Squinting through his russet curls, Kale walked, hands in his pockets, between the rows of scallions and mint just starting to sprout. The shoots were almost untouched even with the bursts of wind. They were far too small to be scathed, though it was probably for the best that he was feeling the brunt of this weather. They'd never have survived the wind if they'd been just a few inches taller. But the rain... the rain they would need to thrive .

He reached the threshold of his farmhouse just as the first few drops of rain began to fall. Stepping inside, he wiped a single raindrop from his cheek and let his eyes adjust to the dim lighting. The candles were lit early to account for the early darkening of the sky. They flickered about the room but wavered brilliantly around the hearth where his mother was stirring a fresh pot of soup. A quick smell told him they were having potatoes again. Always potatoes. A slight scowl was all that spoke of his discomfort as he moved to the window to wait and watch the storm. There was nothing for him in here... and out there was the stirrings of nature to which he could never belong.
_________________


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[Vahn]

Everything looks good, except that historically commoners usually didn't have last names back in the middle ages. At the time they were largely limited to the upper classes, and their use didn't spread to the lower classes for another couple centuries.
If a person needed to identify himself beyond his first name, he'd say something like "John, from [hometown/region]". If there were multiple Johns in the area, they might have a nickname based on a physical/personality trait ("Little John"/"John the Little"), or based on his trade ("John the Smith" [which is where surnames such as "Smith", "Cooper", etc. came from]).

That being said, it's up to shelby to make the final call on such matters. I'm just throwing in my two cents.

[Admin]

I agree with Vahn. As long as you just remove the last name, everything else looks good.

Welcome to the site!