Application for Breogan

Forum used for archiving approved character applications.
Posts: 4
Character: Breogan

Application for Breogan

Post by Hels » April 29th, 2022, 7:30 pm

Do you have any prior experience with Requiem? If so, please detail when (and what characters, if desired) you previously played:

No, I don't.

Briefly summarize your prior role-playing experience in a sentence or two:

I have been roleplaying since I was 17, with several systems as D&D, WoD Vampire, and custom rulesets. Had several stops though, but still got the touch. ;)

Why do you wish to play on Requiem, and what do you expect from the shard?

I wish to play here because I've always wanted to try a shard where there's some rp, experience. Hardcore rp with hunger and thrist systems, with survival elements and also, a custom combat that makes warrior class something interesting to play.

What will your character’s name be?:


Please briefly describe the physical attributes of your character, including age, looks, height, weight and any notable features:

Breogan is a man of around thirties. One wouldn't be sure since he has a short yet dense beard that covers a strong, well placed jaw, and sharp facial traits. Deep and staring gaze, with dense, straight downwards eyebrows that enmark his sharp eyes, one even might think he is angry when he is just being serious, or even that he has the look of a wild animal, yet those same eyebrows become really expressive when he laughs, less than his fellows would like, though. His nose is straight, with somewhat thick but graceful nasal bridge. The mouth is almost covered by that dense beard he has, but you can still clearly see a big mouth, most of the teeth straight, yet some a bit crashed because of probably some fight he had in the past, and several scars cross his face, probably product aswell of tavern fights for women or ale... Or both. He is not specially tall, about 1m 75 cms, neither specially big, but one can see that for his complexion, he has quite a strong back arms and legs, probably product of the physical work in a young age, either in a farm or in a forge, and also from a life in the wilds, which ramp up his weight at about almost 90 kgms of pure muscle. One can guess a bit of tummy product of the ale in the tavern, yet not too grown, since his lifestyle surely makes him burn almost every excess he migh have. He has dark hair, usually short, yet it grows quite fast on him, so sometimes he lets it grow, to "change the fashion".

All this makes Breogan somewhat attractive and menacing at the same time, and one can tell from his looks that he is suited for being a good explorer, warrior, or any kind of soldier discipline, besides a farmer or a blacksmither.

Briefly state your character’s intentions or motivations for entering the First Province:
Breogan won't tell any reasons of why he is in the First Province, stating to his interolcutor only that "he was sent there". If his interlocutor asks by whom, he'll probably respond "it's not of your interest", acompanied by a serious look that clearly states that he doesn't want to tell more. The truth, is that he has been convicted to live there and aid in what's possible both to the people of the community and the guard to fortify the surroundings of the Quarantine Zone, exiled to live there with the very same plague he once had to survive. He's also been ordered to follow the Foundry officers instructions upon teaching how to survive to Torment areas to any squad that might eventually be formed to the task of retaking Tor, if that ever happens.

Briefly provide a pertinent detail or notable quality of your character’s history (this does not have to be exhaustive nor revealing of any information you wish to keep secret):

- So, you wish to know, how I got here, huh... You ask too much, pal... - Breogan gave a big drink into his ale jar and exhaled a small sight of annoyment. - Is ok, I guess curiosity is a natural trait on us humans... Yet it can lead you into problems once you get inside there - said pointing towards the outpost entrance to the rail. - You got me today on some good mood. Must be the ale, cause I would've preffered to be sentence to death rather than to face what I've be sentenced to. Let me explain you something. - He gave another drink to his jar and made signals to the barman to put two more ale in the table.

He closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened it again, he seemed to be remembering of better times. A small smirk appeared on his face, and started talking again.

- Look, you guys of the Eastern Baronies don't know how's the life in the midlands. Specially when you live in a fucking village where everything is less... modern. For good, and for bad. You don't know what is like to have to get up early in the morning and having to go and send a tree down as to fire your homeplace, to not freeze in the winter. You don't know how it is to have to go down and hunt your own food when the security of the republic has fallen as to have a decent trade market... You don't know how it feels like to climb up a tree just for joy, to get that sweet fruit on the top of it. Nah... You're way too civilized. You wouldn't understand. But maybe, I can somehow try to explain it to you.

The bartender came in that moment with the two new ales and put them in the table. Breogan's interlocutor was quite interested into his chat, so he let the man keep talking.

- You might understand, for what I've told you, - Breogan followed - that the life in the Midlands, specially in a village on the wild is, somehow, blessely though. Sure, you'll have to do things on your own, but is really grateful. When I came into the city, or more likely, when they brought here to me, I felt trapped inside the stone walls. Trapped with so many laws and shit. Life there's easier. Freerer. Or at least, it was, until Torment. - A bitter grim came into Breogans face as he remembered how things seemed to change with Torment. I am, and always been, a survivor. I hadn't the most easy childhood, being born in a small village between Broadwater and Steelferry, but being the son of a smither and a farmer, wasn't that difficult either.

<<My father had a forge in the small village of Duskwood, and my mother had inherited a farm from my fathers, so for being a peasant, it wasn't that terrible. When I was born, Torment had already hit the Republic. But not my village or it's surroundings. Sure, Torment got there in the early days, and it fucking scared the hell out of us when we saw some of the afflicted getting up in his foot and attacking their family and such. But ya know... Wasn't that many cases, we... well..., I wasn't born then, but you get me... - made a small sigh and continued - the poeple of the village, did what they had to do, and with help of local authorities, they managed to drive the plague back... Or at least contain it until the Republic troops came and drove it back. My infance... Well, it was tought, and we were scared because of the plague, but we would still do normal life, to be honest. Maybe not as normal as before the plague, don't know, wasn't alive back then, but... defenitely more normal than the shit fucking apocalypse that would came later. When I was but fifteen, things started to get worse back again. Or at least I began to be more conscious. Legion had been pushing into the midlands and until then, they had been able to secure the different zones, but things got worse in Drolund, exposed constantly to the Western Territories, and in our neirghborhood state Ghaenthgrand, Prelacy families needed the Legion to contain the plague aswell. More than us. Or at least were more important, ya know. Rich and influent people. All that made that the defenses against the Torment went down in the region where I lived. Even if Ghaenthgard acted as a block of the torment coming from the west, there were Torment and problems with heresy at the south and west of Virrenul that inevitably made it's way up to the North. The ways became even more dangerous than they were, gangs and bandits became more common, and the life started to be much more dangerous. I was robbed a couple of times, when going to sell into a neirghbourg village, and then I noticed that I had to start learning to defend myself. I had always been interested a bit in swordsmanship; being a smither's son, my father had some knowledge of how to make weapons, even when it wasn't it's main benefit, and I would toy with them a bit, feeling comfortable with it's weight and slashing into the air, when being a kid. But it was when I started to feel unsecure when I started to ask local guards to teach me a bit about sword fighting. We always got along, they were not Legion or Templars, but a small local militia self-organized, with permission of the Foundry to keep the law. Yet not the Legion or Templars, they have had former training into it, some of them had been in some time in the Legion, and had came back to town, others just learned there. Thing is I asked to be teached, wanted to learn to defend myself.>>

Breogan sighted, visible affected by his memories. It seemed that what he was about to tell was a painfull memory.

<< One night, when I was within the militia buildings learning some swordfighting, the guards gave an alert call. I was said to wait there. There wasn't time for much. The afflicted attacked the town as coming from nowhere. Guards that survived the fight didn't understood a thing. There were not that much afflicted on the closings of the village. And the afflicted were not only humans... but also beasts of all kinds. It was a rampage. That night, half the village or more sucumbed to the afflicted, and many others survived with several wounds for the fight, mostly the guards, but also many civilians aswell. My father managed to survive that day, but not my mother. He lost her somehow in the middle of the chaos. He had been severely damaged, though, a lot wounds on his body, that next days would become purulent as they infected. But the worse thing is that we weren't able to defeat the Tormented. They stayed wandering around the town, and we were forced to send a messenger to the closest Republic Legion, or Inquisitors outpost, so we could be rescued.>>

Breogan grinned. Then laughed a bit. Then laughed hard and gave a big gulp to the ale.

<<Boy were we stupid. We didn't knew what was about to come into us. But that wasn't the worse thing. Even before we had the Republic forces coming to help us, most of our attacked people started to show sympthoms of the illness. Fever, vomits... I could talk to my father, than just before dying, he told me... "If the rummors are true... don't let me become one of those monsters. Slay me with this sword, I made for you." And pointed with his hand to a beautiful sword of half and a hand. " I made it for you since I knew you were taking classes here from the guards. May my tormented body be the first of several victims of those sword. When I am passing... please take care from the rest of the village people, along the guard." And indeed, some days later, he and others woke up after dying. And as promised, I ended the second life of the mindless body that once had been my father.

But up to here, you might be wondering yourself, that doesn't explain how I ended up here. Well, here's the key. A couple of days later of that, the centinel doing guard came and said that the Venerable Inquisition Corps were arriving. We went out of the shelter to welcome them, but then I saw something was off. They were coming with catapults, with projectil fire... And as they raised the arrows, I understood that they weren't coming to rescue us. I shouted to the comitive to get into cover and go back into the shelter, and as arrow volleys felt upon us and killed a couple of man, rest of the comitive managed to get inside. They... burned our village, the whole of it, and destroyed everything on their pass. Indeed they killed all the afflicted outside, but also our means of life. I don't know what it went off that time, cause I knew for the news that came through the merchants that passed near our village, towards the First Province, that in other places they had restated order. I suppose that because of the narrative of our messenger, they took us for granted, that all of us were afflicted, or would be in some time, and decided to burn us. In fact, they placed campment out of the city, but we were lucky that the old village guard was erected in a high ground, and had a back exit they didn't knew it existed. They couldn't see us escaping in the near woods, and by the time they realized, we had got lost there. And since most of us knew the woods quite good, we managed to survive there and they lost our track.

Bad news is that we were suspects of being afflicted, now, if not all, most of us. So we had to survive at any cost. At the beginning, the first week or the first two weeks, we hunted, to avoid leaving the woods, but soon enough, we realized that hunting and berry picking wouldn't be enough to feed the, more or less, two or three hundred of us that had got out of the keep alive. So we had to become that that we hated most. Bandits. I started assaulting on merchants, mostly food ones, to keep my people alive. Avoided to kill, but ya know, there's a time for everything. And also as time passed, more of us got afflicted, and something very odd happened. The whole forest started to become a dark and dangerous place itself. I still don't know how I managed to get out of there alive. We freaked out, even some fellow friends started fighting each other, and when it reached a point were there were some kills between us because of discussions of how we were acting and surviving, so when the spirits tempered down, we decided that the best was to split ourselves and get out of that dark wood. I can assure you that shit was becoming us mad, and had we stay more time there, we would probably had become afflicted aswell. Don't ask me how I know it, I just... know it.

But as I sailed to new places, my methods start becoming a bit more... unmoral, I must say. I had learned to survive at any cost, and assaulting for food and money became my way of life, and having to sometimes kill people maybe too much of a usual thing. The Torment had changed me. Living in those dark woods did... To a point where I became the leather of a gang that would robber to many of the merchants and rich families that went through the Great Road, coming towards the First Province. I won't say I regret of what I did. I did what I had to do, and just a bit more, to get rich, live good, ya know. Once you kill the first man, there's a second, and a third, and the lanes of what is just and what not, start to become blur. Still though, I always tried to assault people that had more than enough, and those more modest merchants I would took only the basics to survive. I also always tried to kill the least possible, but on one hand, I had become much more violent adn aggressive since the wood had becomed tainted, and yet that started to revert when I got far from there, there's always someone that wants to be the hero... Ya know how it goes.

Turns to be that one of those was a member of an important prelacy family. The member was not so much of an important member, but... the family couldn't have a disrespect like this happening. The idiot tried to play the hero when I told him that I had several archers pointing to him. Even when he managed to avoid the arrow bullets, didn't take too much time until my sword cutted him in half. So... I become a famous bandit, and they started looking for me. I won't bore you with the rest of the story... They finally ended up catching me. I was charged with several murdering charges. I swear that I thought I was going to go to jail, and then to be condemned to the gallow. But when I told my story in front of the Foundry judge, he speaked something with his assistant, and instead of sending me to a death I was already taking for assured, he decided that I would be of more use here, than dead. Declared that most of my crimes were done under certain degree of stress and motivated by my personal situation, also posibly somehow influenced by the Torment (yet not afflicted) or at least the traumatic experiences I've passed through, and due to my personal experience fighting against the Tormented, he said that the best way to pay with my sins, was to be sent to the First Province to collaborate in the reconstruction and retaking of the territory.>>

As he finished his story, Breogan sighted once again.

- I don't know, maybe 5 years ago, before the fell of Tor, this would be the best one in my situation could be hoping for. But now that Tor has fallen... I feel like I am going to be forced to face my past. Maybe this is true, and is the best way to pay for my sins. I think I'd rather be dead than where I am going. - After a pause, Breogan raised his hand calling for the barman once again. When he arrived, Breogan said calmly. - A whiskey, please, I think I am going to need it, to face where I go.

Briefly write an in-character response to the following scenario:

Breogan raises his head and looks to the officer eyes. " I am here by the order of the Republic Foundry. Found guilty of several crimes, but having aswell survived in a Torment affected area before, it was their decision to send me to hell on earth rather than on death, since because of my previous experience surviving in similar conditions, they found I could be a valuable individual for the retaking of the First Province, and for the glory of the Republic." The last words are said with certain, almost non-perceptible, sarcasm, as Breogan raises the paper with the permit given to him by the Foundry judge." Hence, I've been sent here to expiate my sins by being a useful member to your community, or either be eaten alive by any of the dangers that exist within the limits of the Quarantined Zone." Looks to the permit that the officer took from his hands. "I suppose that everything is in order. Trust me, I won't be a burden, neither a danger, or at least not more that what you have inside. I can contribute more that what I can get bennefited of it. And to be honest, if it was my chose, I'd rather be dead than facing again all this... But I guess I have to repay to society for what I took from him, and I am compromised with that task, since I find it just. So if everything is correct, I shall advance in the train."

Aeolian Staff
Posts: 607
Character: Swaglord420

Re: Application for Breogan

Post by Coty » April 30th, 2022, 12:38 pm

Congratulations, adventurer! Your application is...


Please ensure that your character name is spelled correctly upon exiting the Songmaker's chambers. A GM will approve your character at their earliest convenience.

Very good application! Welcome to Requiem!