Gilde is role-played by Shepard. He was born before the turn of the Fifth age. He is of mixed blood; his father was a Fremennik while his mother an Elf. His birth name was Elruc Rolkarson- a name now lost to time. Although a Fremennik, Elruc took a rather rebellious turn and became quite enthusiastic about the practice of magick. He soon become enthralled by a demon named Crim Del'kae-Arth. The demon sought to test the power of his new host and destroyed Elruc's village with ease.
Two centuries passed by while they waged an inner war for dominance for control of the body. With the aid of an old tome he seals his demon shortly before joining The Academy of Heroes. During his days as a student of the Academy he adopted the alias of Sinn. As a member of the institution he acted and quietly behind the scenes.
Following a battle the once-sealed demon resurfaces and is soon purged. This leaves Sinn with the demon's power. During his travels he adopts Ronan Gilde as his public alias.
As Gilde learned the news of Guthix's demise from a travelling druid he wept for the uncertainty of the future. Now knowing of the gods' return, he does not know which of the Gods deserve his worship.
On one particularly dismal night, dark as can be, a muffled scream traveled over the old creaking planks of rotten wood. The sound washed in and out just as the angry skies cried out in a tone of agony quite similar to a mother in labor. The waves of an angry tide crashed upon the shore while the sky was lit up by the rage of the gods. Rolling claps of thunder scared the young children and the women folk as their fathers and spouses were out in this horrendous weather pillaging the farmer folk across the sea.
Rolkar Thiirson
The howl of pain continued to grow while a mother slowly gave birth to her child, a son. Much later in the evening the men returned to their shaken folk. As the clan chieftain proudly marched back into his long-hall to meet his pregnant wife he was be greeted by the sweet cries of a newborn child. Hearing this, he dropped his war axes and his helmet, and sprinted down the hall until he reached the lying-room. He lunged down, landing upon his knees, and entered prayer to the old gods of the Fremmenik, praying for a strong, swift and intelligent son.
The next day the swollen sun rose, rose hidden behind the downcast grey clouds. The new-father slowly entered the lying-room, finally being allowed to see his wife and newborn. Rolkar Thiirson, Chieftain of their clan, scooped his child up, and gently placed him into his large strong arms. As the time seemed to slow down until nearing to what seemed to be an eternity, Rolkar loudly announced in a loud roar that would echo throughout the village that his son was born. He would name him Elruc, Elruc Rolkarson, after his father's father, the first chieftain.
Adolescence
The chieftain's one and only son had a rather uneventful childhood, save for his mother's disappearance. The Elvish woman that gave birth Elruc soon returned to the secluded forests of Tirannwn after her child's infancy to avoid the sorrow of helplessly watching the decay of her spouse. To this day Rolan does not know his mother's identity. Because of this the young lad was brought up ignorant of his Elven Blood.
The boy's father taught him the lessons that any male Fremennik is expected to know; specifically their history, culture and the thrill of the hunt. Elruc's features bore little resemblance to an Elf's but his senses were just as keen. After proving to be a strong lad he was often invited by other families within the pillaging clan to go off on various hunts, the longest ones lasting a few months. The clan did not worship the Fremennik Idols like their cousins to the south, but revered Guthix as their god.
He proved to be just as kind as he was strong. Elruc refused to participate in games that belitted or dishonoured anyone. On one occasion a lad of a similar age to his own fell overboard during a storm. The waves were like giant ramparts forty feet tall in height as they crashed upon each other in the middle of the sea; Elruc's heart was full of little fear when he rashly followed suit in order to rescue his friend by following him into the heart of the tempest.
Shortly after diving into what seemed at the time like the heart of the stom, Elruc swam frantically to his kinman in order to pull him out of the weather. The waves themselves acted benevolent as they pushed the two together and eventually towards the ship. The crew the nets into the storm and luckily the tides pushed the two young men towards the ship, however Elruc was flung faster than the other lad towards the ship and slammed into the anchor, causing a large cut down from the bottom of his ear to his chin.
Upon returning home, barely unscathed, his proud father jokingly scolded him while patting him on the back.
The Port
A few years pass and Elruc is all but matured. His teenage years brought with them a rebellious streak towards the clans prohibitions. The prohibitions that particularly intrigued Elruc were those against the use of Magick. He decides to begin teaching himself magick with the limited resources he has available. At first his attempts were not successful in the least, in fact they brought him the whole undivided attention of the clan. Although the use of magick was outlawed the clan turned the young lad a blind eye for multiple reasons.
Albeit common knowledge to outlanders that the Fremennik northerners do not have much respect for magick, merchants still tried their hand at selling enchanted items, magickal tomes and equipment- and of course runes. These merchants only returned to the remote island four times a year and because of this Elruc bought things in bulk.
Adult Life Pt. I: A Curse
One of these days Elruc Rolkarson traveled to the dockside marketplace to inspect their wares for purchase. A specific item caught his eye. It was a magickal tome of dark magic, the book bound in black leather inscribed with an old language. It proved to be a rare find, but little did he know of its curse.
The young half-elf spent months deciphering the old tongue in order to unlock the book's wealth of knowledge and secrets. His passion burned for knowledge yet his efforts were fruitless. However he did not know the books true purpose. It was the seal of a Great Demon Warlord from the Third Age, Crim Del'kae-Arth.
The Burning Island
The demon swiftly decided to test his new host's power. He returned to the small outpost in his vile form brimming with dark magic. Initially its residents did not realize the calamity that was about to befall them. Elruc's friends ran up to greet him from his return to the marketplace; they were destroyed by wind magick that left only shreds of flesh and trails of blood. Among the witnesses some attempted to flee, some attempted to resist. All of them were slaughtered mercilessly.
At the end of darker days, Elruc to this day finds himself tormented by the memories of his beloved father's last moments. A sorrowful battle commenced between father and son. Rolkar Thiirson, chieftain of the clan, knew that it was his duty to try to protect his people, even if it meant the death of his only son. Of all the horrors ingrained into the darkest depths of his heart, the picture of his father's cold lifeless corpse is among its lowest hold. Rolkar's death was not swift, the demon toyed with him as Elruc helplessly watched from within the prison of his own body.
Elruc's home was destroyed with ease and quickly turned asunder. Crim Del'kae-Arth left nothing but fire and brimstone in his wake. That night the small island burned and no man, woman, or child survived.
The Beginning of the Fifth Age
Adult Life Pt. II: Exile
The havoc caused by the demon's fit cooled off just as the island's embers cooled. The boiling air smelt the already burnt flesh. The lingering fragrance set a wicked smile upon Crim's black lips.
The signs of the fire from afar proved that it was so sinister and dark that it broke off the island's contact with the outside world. Travellers and merchants became afraid of this newly condemned land.
Crim Del'kae-Arth proved that now the power of his host's body was now one his of belongings. The period that followed Crim claimed the island as his prize, declaring himself Chieftain of the island and Elruc his sole subject. For three weeks the Demon continued this masquerade before he finally relinquished control back to his host.
Over the course of the next few months Elruc struggled to survive with the few foodstuffs that did not perish with the ensuing flame. He was alone, so alone; he wandered the island scavenging for items of wealth that may prove of use for him in the future. Among the ruins of his father's grand hall, the wood was burnt to nothing but ash. The broken stone walls were all that Elruc thought remained from Crim's destruction, but he was wrong. A stone trapdoor, once hidden behind a wall, was revealed upon careful inspection. It was sealed with a blue wax, bearing an insignia shaped like a diamond.
Despite Elruc's current state, curiousity and life flickered back into the young man's eyes as he chipped away at the seal's edges. The removal of the inch of thick wax took him three days as it proved stronger than even a Fremennik's strength. As he completed his diligent work he removed the wax carefully in order to preserve the insignia for future research. He pried open the trapdoor and proceeded down a set of narrow steps. The room was damp, underneath the floorboards dull cascading waves could heard beneath. A latern was left on a hook- Elruc decides to explore.
The old floor squealed as Elruc navigated between the gaps where the boards have fallen into the ravine below. He proceeds through the cavern which to his astonishment was filled with carvings both Fremennik and foreign. At the end of the cavern the room expanded to a place where a small shack was shelfed into the rocks. From a distance it was easy to identify the smell of an alchemists labratory. Deciding not to back away now, Elruc entered through the door which burned from his touch. [stuff inside the room]
[burial/mourning lol? leaving island + new image: sailing? a basement?]
Adult Lift Pt. III: Two Centuries
Over the course of the next two centuries the two beings fought for control of the same body; if Elruc had been a lesser man he surely would of been driven mad. During this time he realized that his body had ceased aging- this would likely be due to the combined effects of his Elven blood and Demonic possessor.
Crim Del'kae-Arth committed few acts of destruction during this age given lack of motive, because of this Elruc regained reign of his motorly functions. For years on end he wandered the land gathering knowledge of the world. During these travels he wore a dark crimson overcoat with a hood as a symbol that represented his sins. The color of his garb created the misconception during his travels that he was a follower of Zamorak.
[Discoveries, Travels]
[Days as a resident in Misthalania, accent developed.]
[Ruins, ancient magick [not Zarosian, Uzer, Year 50], spell to supress inner-evils]
[More Discoveries and Travels]
[Wrap up to present day]
Present Day (RP)
The End of the Fifth Age
The Academy of Heroes Pt. I: Arrival
December-January 2012 - OOC Time
Academy of Heroes' Flier
"Adventurers everywhere across Gielinor! Ever sought out knowledge for your skills without luck? Or simply want to learn? Look no farther! The Academy of Heroes will help you with your training and teach everything you want to know!"
[What brought me to the Academy, stories, period up to Kandar]
Thorvald's army of undead created havoc across the lands of Ardougne. The city was surrounded by the monstrostrities in moments and from all sides they attacked. Four theatres of battle were born. Assistance was readily provided by noteworthy teachers and their strongest deciples from the Academy under the strict order to defend Ardougne.
This battle quickly gave an outline between the young children and the experienced soldiers. The responsibility of keeping the students' was left in the care of the teachers' hands. As a result this brought the teachers' attention to the fact that many of the students have not been in a war before, let alone the undead.
Sinn, trying to pull off the Academy's students' favoured persona of "The Reble", soon ditched his guardians and rushed into battle.
[Time in hiding, chase scenes, survival, return to the academy, fights]
The Beginning of the Sixth Age
[withdrawel from the academy]
The Academy of Heroes Pt. III: Seal
Roughly 2013 TBRP'd- OOC Time
This is to be role-played...
Attributes
Personality
Tongue
Appearance
Physical
Mortal Form:
6'4", blonde hair long, goatee, etc
Facial:
Bodily:
Demon Form:
7'2", dark brown-red skin, red hair, small bulges on forehead, remotely human like shape
Facial:
Bodily:
Post-Seal Form (Current):
6'6", elf features are more prominent, is near-ageless, short blonde hair, bright green eyes, rejuvenated appearance, scars
Facial:
Bodily:
Equipment:
Reinforced Steel
[Scavenges site of sin, finds ore, lugs it around for decades/stores it, learns how to enchant metal, creates gear (with assistance), ultimately is quality of High Mithril,
Drinking Flask [Location: Right breast: internal jack pocket]
Potion Pouch [Location: Left waist, belt]
Home-made Explosives (IEDs) (Location: Left waist, belt
Supplies [Location: Small knapsack integrated into armor, hidden under cloak]
Abilities
Magic Ability
Melee Ability
Trivia
His favorite colors are the darker shades of greys, greens, and purples.
His favorite foods, being grown up on an island, generally tend to have an ingredient of fish. He particularly enjoys monkfish pie, a rare export from Piscatoris.
As a young child he'd often be left alone; during these times he taught himself how to cook.
While traveling between groups he has an odd habit of creating new names for himself and expecting his older friends to recognize him by it. This might be due to the fact that he was once possessed by a demon and they believe that "names have power".
Ronan is ambidextrous, however he has fallen into the common practice of using his left arm predominately for combat.
After Rolan learned of his elven blood he forsook the use of his his bow. He has not used one for nearly two centuries and will strongly resist if urged to use one.
Although adequate in the art, Ronan has the same distrust of magic as most Fremenniks.
