|“||Brother, hold up your chin. Worry not, fate lives outside of control. We live to fight, fight some more, and when we can't fight no more, we all face our glorious death and join its cold embrace. It comes to all of us, sooner or later.||”|
–Elruc consoling a fellow Fremennik
DO NOT TOUCH... ARTICLE UNDER MAJOR RECONSTRUCTION
|Sinn the Traveler|
Sinn Amer II
Elruc Rolkarson, a human-elf halfbreed hailing from an abandoned Fremennik isle to the far north, has lived through centuries through the possession of Crim Del'kae-Arth, an ancient demon. The secret to his longevity and to his sorrow is kept close, almost secret to his own self. In order to safeguard his own sanity, he has long since completely thrown himself to his interests: exploring, hunting, and fighting.
He is role-played by the user Zrie, and as of the latest conflict with his inner demon finds himself quite alone wandering the outdoors. His travels outside of Fremennik lands have led him to occasionally adopt the name Ronan Gilde.
Additionally, as another coping mechanism, a fractured part of his personality manifests itself as the persona Sinn Amer II. Sinn appears rarely, and when he does it is lands apart from Elruc's living aquaintances. Unlike his other self, Sinn has no qualms with using either archery or magic, to such an extent that anything goes as long as it accomplishes his aim.
Elruc RolkarsonHe is a man that can easily block a door-- Elruc stands at a height of 6'6". Adorning his head is golden blond hair, left uncut and shaggy. Elruc hides his slightly pointed ears under this mass, ashamed of his birth. Underneath this mess lies a pair of startlingly bright green eyes that sparkle vivaciously. The man's face is wrinkle free and appears both young and old, the feature that of a man in his earlier twenties. Under his long straight nose are tightly held grayish-pink lips. Running from these begins his rough blond beard, which runs down alongside his ears and along his jaw. At the corner of his jaw on either side of his face, large symmetrical plaits of facial hair protrude farther than the rest; his neck compared to his jaw is kept shorter and more trimmed.
Elruc isn't the average buff Fremennik man, nor is he the average thin Elf. His shoulders are wider than an outlander's but smaller than his kin's; because of this, Elruc's exercises focused on developing faster muscles better for bursts of rapid strength instead of pure prolonged strength. His legs' muscles are built for switching between sprinting and long distance running.
Tattoos & Scars
- Running along the left side of his jaw is a deep scar. It is almost hidden underneath his blond beard.
- Between his right shoulder and neck is covered in burn scars.
- Across his right pectoral muscle is a tattooed series of intricate Celtic knots in thickly coated with blue ink and outlined with black.
- On his left bicep is scar tissue left from a branding. The brand is the symbol of Zaros with the following words below it in Ancient: "This mortal is property of the Empty Lord."
- Upon the back of his left hand are two black tattooed chevrons pointing out between his middle and ring finger.
This demon rarely finds an opportunity or a necessity to directly manifest itself in the public eye. On the race occasion, Crim displays his possession, Elruc is overcome by a dark shadow which projects his glowing red eyes.
His original form is a small for a demon--similar to Mazchna. Crim stood at nine foot and two inches, his physique was fit and muscular like most demons; however, this demon gives off a strong aura asserting his strength. Del'kae-arth's skin is ashen black, covered with a silver colored armor. Darker than his skin are his horns. They appear an abyssal black, unless they are coated in dried blood, then they are smattered a dark muddy brown with the life-force of his enemies
Sinn Amer II
Sharing the same body as Elruc, little differentiates one from another. Both Sinn's hair and skin appear darker through the use of a little shadow magic. He hides Elruc's blond beard underneath a facemask, the upper half of his face, particularly his eyes, are hidden under large black bangs.
Sinn rarely changes his attire, feeling comfortable in all climates. He dons an almost unbuttoned khaki shirt. Underneath this are brown leather pants rolled up to just under the knee. On his feet, Sinn wears a sturdy pair of shoes, which he wraps with medical cloth to silence his steps.
At a younger age, Elruc was known to be a recklessly rebellious youth. His pride for his gifts, as a magician, were reluctantly given by his peers, and even by his father later on. This led to his hubris, a severe overestimation in his gift. Crim took advantage of this pride, and Elruc suffers for it. That mistake did not lead to a fall in his self-confidence-- although it is much more narrow than it once was-- instead he became bitter and cynical.
These feelings manifest themselves around over-confident magicians, whom he now loathes, and men of extreme devotion. His issues of faith stem from repeated issues with the leaders of such organizations, who shun men in positions such as his own. The trails of blood, ruin, and decay left by his mistakes have created a severe case of PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder): specifically, he feels a sense of survivor's guilt, wondering why he lived and others, that are more worthy, have died. He also suffers from hypervigilance, stoicism, and an ease to agitation.
More recently, Elruc has tried to open his closed-heart. However, he still keeps a respectful distance from his friends, willing to learn more of their lives than reveal of his own. Despite how he acts, he is considerate and is concerned if anyone feels discomfort.
Crim Del'kae-Arth is like most demons: he is sure of his superiority over mortals. This confidence is not all together false, Crim once ruled over much of Pandemonium, answering only to Hostilius, the leader of the Infernal Realms. Amused by his lord's humbling, the demon joined the twelve dukes and became an important figure in Zaros's forces. He was clever, too clever. Instead of lying in wait for his enemies, Crim delved into the Ancient Magicks and experimented with portal manipulation.
His immense amusement is fueled by his sadism. The torment of his host is his current pleasure-- turning the young Elruc's curiosity into his pain. Unlike his brethren, he is patient, able to hold his rage until just the right moment, leaving carnage in his wake.
Sinn Amer II
To new acquaintances, Sinn is a happy go-lucky type of guy--too much so. To those that know him, acknowledge his several faults, most prominently his inability to root himself and the lack of self-restraint when it comes to his own curiosity. His charm allows him to escape unharmed in most any situation.
However, despite his people-friendly attitude, he cares little for anyone. A passerby, a friend, or an enemy, are all the same to him once they're dead. As a fractured portion of Elruc's psyche, Sinn has adopted traits from both the demon and the mortal. A demon's love of games-- specifically gambling-- becomes self evident in his actions, Sinn is very fond of risk, finding dangers to be exhilarating and joyful.
Beliefs & Knowledge
This article focuses on Elruc Rolkarson beyond this point.
Elruc has traveled for a long time and has long since forsaken his Fremennik xenophobia. These travels have brought along a necessity and a curiosity of the tongues of others. He feels quite comfortable barging into a new group and making new acquaintances.
- Fremennik Tongue: Elruc's birth language, he is a naturally fluent speaker, speaking it in a deep scratchy tone. He has little interest in the meaning of the languages written form, however he can recognize it from other symbols. FLUENT
- Elven Tongue: Upon learning of his birth, Elruc journeyed west to the Elven lands, grudgingly pushing himself through the dense forests with his skills as a hunter. Upon discovering a Cadarn village, where he was generally avoided, he learned Elvish in both its spoken and written forms. FLUENT
- Common Speech: He learned the speech of the outlanders during his travels. He is fluent in both its writing and speech. FLUENT
- Kharidian: Elruc learned this during his stay at the Academy of Heroes, he is confident in his comprehension, however both his writing and speech need some work. Sinn's ability speaking Kharidian exceeds Elruc's own. SEMI-FLUENT
- Demonic: Elruc can comprehend its harsh and sadistic meaning, having it constantly spoken to him inside his head. SEMI-FLUENT
Elruc was raised to be a tolerant man-- of the world and his fellow man. Born under the banner's of the proud Fremennik's, whispers of outlandish faith were few and far in between. The matter of other's devotion mattered little to these people in the northern tribe, living was enough. His life trapped with his demon has shaken this view occasionally, but he holds firm to it once again, especially once he has seen the aftermath of the Gods.
|“||They are no different than man. Our kind. They squabble for power over others and hiding their intent with lies and misleading words.||”|
– Elruc on Gods after witnessing the aftermath of the Battle of Lumbridge
- Ancestor Veneration: Elruc has long prayed to his ancestors where-ever they may be, hoping they have found peace in the after-life, and that they are well guarded during these ends of times.
- Guthixianism: As a Fremennik, Elruc was taught to respect the Anima Mundi, Gielinor's spirit and other life where-ever it may be. This belief was reinforced a century later, when Elruc traveled with a druid from Taverly.
- Saradominism: Upon first learning common speech during his travels outland, Saradominism appealed to him, promising good health and prosperity. He thought he found his savior, something to save himself from his inner demon. It wasn't. Years after becoming a faithful, he worked up the courage to ask a priest if Saradomin could purge a demon. His response was obvious: banishment. This encounter has led Elruc to become extremely bitter--perhaps more so than the following-- to Saradominists.
- Zarosianism: Elruc bears the Lord's mark upon his left bicep. Burned permanently into his flesh because of his tormentor, Crim. He is not a worshipper, nor does he like them. He holds little patience for mortal men speaking of the Empty Lord; however, he isn't hostile to Zarosians. However, Sinn's curiosity--created by Crim's mental suggestions-- leads him into becoming a silent follower.
- One of Elruc's most beloved possessions is his hasta. Originally, it belonged to his father Rolkar Thiirson. The blade itself has a longer tip than the average spear, but shorter than a dagger. All of the blade's metal work is made with a steelthril alloy. The weapons grip and shaft is made of a sturdy yew wood and across it is covered with rings of the same alloy to prevent breaking. Along the blade, the words "Glory to the Fyresong" are immortalized in Fremennik.
- Sheathed on his left wrist, is an easily removed push dagger, AKA punch blade. He uses this if he is caught unawares with an untrustworthy opponent.
- His left hip holds a trustworthy steel short-sword.
- His right hip holds a parrying dagger and two weighted throwing knives.
- In his right boot is another dagger.
- Ocassionally, Elruc also uses an old Steel two-handed sword nick-named "Dagganoth Bane."
Armor & ClothingElruc dresses like an average Fremennik hunter. He wears a variation of northern furs and leathers, finding it comfortable in most climates. Often he wears a furry yak-hide jacket with leather trousers. Usually, these trousers have strapped on plate armor. Living him in the farthest north, he bundles himself with an old, tattered drab cloak.
For battle, Elruc dons rock-shell plates along with steel chain-mail. He wears a dark helmet adorned with four horns: two protruding from the forehead, the others like tusks from beside the mouth. He wears his usual green cloak, but it is attached to a clip that releases it if pulled on, either by himself or foe. Finally, he carries with him a yew-wood Fremennik round shield.
- Hanging outside his shirt is a necklace of various pairs of animal canines moving out from the center symmetrically.
- On his left hip, is a very easily opened bag containing sand, dust, or fine salt.
Prowess & Abilities
Elruc is well versed in many forms of combat, from unarmed, to spear-fighting, sword-fighting, and use of thrown weapons. He uses these interchangeably and does agilely. He refuses to use a bow, believing it to be cowardly after his encounter with elves.
Elruc abhors magick, but thanks to both Crim & Sinn's meddling, he has gathered a quite extensive hoard of knowledge on the subject. Although recently a practitioner, upon return to the north, Elruc refuses to cast a single spell.
Rank Scale: Virtuoso > Master > Adept > Practiced > Novice
- Lunar Magick:
- Healing (Adept); User: Elruc & Sinn
- Rest (Practiced); User: Elruc
- Ancient Macick:
- Modern & Other Magic:
- Teleportation (Master); User: Elruc, Crim, & Sinn
- Fire (Virtuoso); User: Crim
- Water (Adept); User: Sinn
- Wind (Practiced); User: Elruc
- Music: Even before Elruc's travels to the outlands, he was skilled in using his voice, lute, flute, or a lyre. This has developed into a genuine interest, which he pursues shortly after taking residence in a new land. Other instruments he knows include the drums, the piano, and the lyre.
- Hunting & Tracking: Originally, it was always a necessity being able to follow both his prey and intruder, now it has turned into both sport and hobby. He excels in finding any sort of creature anywhere between rabbit, bear, and man.
Early Life (Pre-RP)
The End of the Fourth Age
Abundant Glory:Unlike many, this story begins before its start. Malicious whims are not unique to the recent second coming of the Gods, no, long before the seas fought back and forth. Like the seas, the brave men, explorers and conquerors, shared its tempestuous wrath. Men of the north, oft only regarded to be savage, unlike their outlandish cousins did not immediately grow soft and develop walls, their spirit remained untethered. However, this freedom left a trail of blood, cries, and glory.
One such trail belongs to a single expedition of the Fyresong clan-- an age old family now expunged to the farthest northern reaches of Fremennik territory. Their raids were remarkable. Not only did they gain wealth from glory but from hard-forged trading as well. A specific raid, bold, its reach almost unheard of, went far into the west. Past the Fremennik realm, farther than the dominion of the gnomes; they traveled to the Tirranwyn, the land of the Elves. Such glory wasn't new to the young chief, Rolkar Thiirson. Many of his expeditions were bold, wrought with difficulty and abundant with glory. He dreamed large, ambitious and curious towards the outlands. Here he challenged new land, unmapped land, the land of the Elves.
A Failed Raid:
Elruc, this is the story of my fate and your birth, listen well.
It was nearly seven. Dusk was close, practically walking on our boat. Half a day ago my helmsman noted movement in the trees; it appears to be human. The problem is with the maps... I can't even begin to fathom who could possibly live in these woodlands. They're practically sentient. I gauged the sun one again before ordering: "Grimsvar! Call the men to the oars! Quietly! We're moving to the beach. It's time." Like a horse hit with a whip, the crew quickly jumped to station, moving the longboat to shore. I looked at my men proudly. Half a decade ago, they were simply northern fisherman, content with their dull lives, now... oh now, they are magnificent. All of them garbed from head to foot with steel and fur. We were ready: the archers crouched, bows drawn, and the rowing warriors sat at the ready.
Alas! I should of known otherwise. The forest was too dense for an ambush; it was their land. "Quietly! Quietly!" I reaffirmed, stepping forward silently towards these odd structures. How did these people live so closely to the very land in which they live? Altogether not unlike the prudish gnomes, their trees were alive, shaped to their desire. Even if it must be some wicked... foul magic afoot... it is awe worthy. As we approached, we had yet to realize: this village was empty. The junior and the senile rushed in. "Stop! Hold! Hold!" I shouted to no avail. They couldn't hear me. They would not hear me. I've seen it before, men lost to glory.
A few seconds, no less than that, passed after my cry. Arrows whizzed through the air. Half my men were dead. They died for stepping foot in that village. And again, a few moments later, the reckless rushed in and too were shot down. My eyes scanned the woods. I saw it. A figure almost unidentifiable from the forest itself, this was no magic, this was a perfection of an art. "To me! To me!" I rallied my men. "Shields up! Ready! Ready!" I walked away, towards that figure. Then there was a blur. No more than one. Several figures stepped out of hiding. We were wrong. They weren't human. Before I knew it, what was left of my crew surrounded me.
The brush was thick, but we charged at them nevertheless, holding our shields proudly. "Their cowardly arrows will not fell our courage! Onwards!" I cried. I don't remember if those were enough words, but they were the last I spoke during this battle. Our swords clashed against what appeared to be glass... no harder. It must of been some sort of crystal. I've never seen anything like it since. We gained a momentarily advantage-- something that I'm not proud of-- we had a hostage: a pointy eared woman. That was a mistake. No-one else died, but our dignity and honor was demolished that day. Some cloud of mist appeared and then the rest I don't recall until I woke up.
We remaining few were in the town, tied up with rope. I must note that these people appeared very feminine... especially that hostage. She was beautiful. Somehow, they figured out that I was the chieftain. As they roughly picked me up I glanced at the faces of my men: Grimsvar, Relnar, Thordor, and a few of the juniors remained. It was sad to see how few made it. This was my fault. I arrived in a wide room completely made of wood. I sat there while one of them... chanted to a rock... no it was like their weapons. Their incoherent speech was now understandable.
"How dare you come here and attack us," yelled silly looking man. He dressed in nothing but green. "Were you sent from the city?" I stared blankly back at him, and he took it as defiance, cowardly laying his hands against a tied up man. My jaw felt a little numb, so a little blood must have begun to trickle out. "You speak to me as if I owe you respect. What do you know of us? Nothing," I didn't answer his question. "Stop it. He's not going to cooperate," it was the pretty thing that I had captured just earlier, now our roles were reversed. They began arguing. It sounded like how they were speaking earlier... foreign. I realized that they had just been speaking Fremennik. They kept pointing either at me or where my group was. These two pointy-ears were deciding what to do with us. Not that it mattered. My reputation was ruined the moment I grabbed her as a hostage.
She must of been able to tell what I was thinking because they quickly became silent, and she looked at me with pity. It was infuriating. They dragged me back to the others. Now I could get a look around. A small bunker was constructed for us, we were hidden just under the earth with a weighted gate preventing our escape.
A few months passed, the others had either been released or had taken their own life. I was the last one here, they were treating me differently by this point. I was no longer kept in that pit. I began to learn about their strange history and customs, along with their language. I learned that they were called Elves-- not pointy ears-- and they had clans much like our own. The woman that has been attending me was from one of them, the Cadarn clan. Her name was Andrasta Cadarn. Apparently, unlike the other clans, the Cadarn's didn't find me as boorish and savage; they too were warriors.
That common thing between us grew into love... leading to the point until we had you. The elves refused to have a child of mixed blood-- not that our people are much less xenophobic. So once you were five years old, I parted with the woman that I loved and returned to Rellakka. Some return. No-one hailed my survival. As punishment for my failure our clan was banished to this desolate northern island.
–Rolkar Thiirson to his son
A Strong ChildKnowing next to nothing of the mainland, Elruc grew up in an isolation that was only broken by the few trading or supply vessels chancing the northern waters.
Curiosity Killed The Clan
Night Of The Burning Island
The Beginning of the Fifth Age
Among The Ashes
Present Day (RP)
The End of the Fifth Age
A New Beginning
Need to remember this bit so I don't BS it...
Defense of Ardougne
[What brought me to the Academy, stories, period up to Kandar] As a disciple of the Academy, Elruc enlisted to combat Thorvald's undead army unleashed upon Ardougne. Participating in the northern front, he aided the defendants in driving away the hoard. Here the boys were divided by the men; Elruc proved himself on the battlefield.
However, Elruc's discipline on the battlefield was lacking, finding his position far from his peers. This carelessness arose from Elruc's poor adaptation to the institution's favored persona: the rebel. Eventually, this fall in judgement effected his combat prowess and he suffered a bite between his right shoulder and neck.
Elruc's quick withdrawal off of the front-lines was met with the appearances of his then friend Alfred Klios and an unknown Icyene. His contamination was unacceptable, the two of them decided to become his jury and executioner. Missing by a mere instant, a lightning bolt crashed into the ground after Crim teleported away his host.
The Demon's Return
Elruc arrived to Trollheim. Crim Del'kae-Arth now possessed control. In order to destroy the virus, the demon used fire magick to burn off the contaminated flesh. This remedy leaves a permanent scar on Elruc's neck, which still appears to be black in color. His escape was not unnoticed. He became a risk, so he went on the run.
Upon returning to the Academy, Alfred was finishing packing his bags; he had finished his tour as the academy's grand-master. Elruc was not altogether unsatisfied with the turn of events: he was back home, and the friend that had betrayed him left. This was not the end to the drama. As a result of Crim's increase in dominance, Elruc became more aggressive and fought more often, eventually becoming unwanted at the institution. Such intolerance led him to the decision that it was better for everyone if he removed his presence, permanently.
The First Trip North
Months pass into obscurity as Elruc wanders alone through the mountains and forests.
- Elruc returns to Rellakka
- Elruc meets with then chieftess Serena Grundr
- Elruc's ears are spotted and his status as a Fremennik was deemed to be an outlander
Wandering the North
- Elruc meets up with Eirikr's host hunting a bear. Despite being the leading force in the bear's defeat, he only walks away with its severed head.
- To be role-played
Family and Relations
- Elruc is a very good cook because from a very young age he taught himself various skills, which include cooking, fishing, etc, during his father's absences.
- Elruc is Cross X's first character.