Post by Alfred Gebet on Feb 1, 2009 3:37:22 GMT -5
Name: Alfred Gebet
Race: Human
Profession: Priest
Age: 40
Likes: Alfred likes solitude, but despite his sometimes gruff demeanor also loves helping people, especially the poor and downtrodden. He has a passion for the North, his homeland, and its people. He loves reading books whenever he gets the time, and can often be found with one on his person at all times. He enjoys debates and discussions on any topic, but especially theology, philosophy and literature. He loves his faith, though is sometimes critical of it for not doing enough for the poor. Discipline and order are important parts of his life. Good food and good beer are also favorites.
Dislikes: The extravagantly wealthy anger Alfred, as do people who are unnecessarily cruel to one another. Alfred is not fond of vampires, and mistrusts their motives, but does not hate them. Stupidity, especially the kind which leads to people getting hurt, is inexcusable in his book, as are laziness and disorder. Those who glorify war make Alfred's blood boil.
Weapons/fighting knowledge: Having served with the Army in the North as a medic and cleric, Alfred knows how to fight with a mace and shield, but rarely carries said weapons. He is also proficient with a quarterstaff, which he often uses as a walking stick because of his limp.
Magic: Holy / Healing
Appearance: Alfred stands roughly six feet tall, and has a sleek, muscular build (~160 lbs) he developed (and learned to maintain) in the Army. He has short, straight brown hair which is just beginning to show hints of gray throughout, but especially at the temples. He has a well maintained short beard, and has bushy eyebrows. Alfred’s eyes are a deep blue, and always seem to be looking through or into people.
Clothing: Alfred usually wears a long, hooded black robe (think monk) cinched at the waist with a simple rope belt, and carries a quarterstaff as a walking stick. When violence is necessary, however, he owns a chainmail shirt and helm along with his shield and mace.
History:
Alfred was abandoned at birth on the steps of a church in the northern parts of Celesta. His mother was a beautiful barmaid named Katherine who had been the subject of amorous attention from a soldier by the name of Thomas at the local garrison. When she discovered that she was pregnant and told him, Thomas quickly lost interest in her. Katherine was faced with the prospect of raising a child alone on funds barely able to cover her own living expenses. Faced with this difficulty, Katherine made the heart-wrenching decision to leave him with the local priests in the hopes that he would have a better life in the Church. She told them in a note that his name was Alfred, and that she was very sorry and hoped to meet the boy one day. Though he has yet to meet her, to this day Alfred keeps the note pressed between the pages of his Book of Prayers.
The priests raised Alfred as though he were their own son, and soon discovered that he was a very intelligent boy; clever, and quick to grasp the lessons in letters and numbers at an early age. He was a serious and reverent child, and the holy men began to hope that he would stay within the Church as he aged. He dutifully prayed with the priests, performed his chores and observed the rules of the monastery to the letter. His favorite part of the day, however, was the early afternoon, just after lunch, when the priests stopped his classes for an hour or so to let him play with the other children. Alfred enjoyed spending time with them, though he was always sad to see them picked up by their parents at the end of the day. He knew, despite the love the priests showed him that he had no real family.
When Alfred was fifteen, one of the oldest and most well respected priests, Father John, became his private tutor. Father John taught him geography, mathematics, philosophy and logic, but it was the healing arts, herb lore, medicine and tending to wounds, which Alfred excelled in. The subject fascinated Alfred. He soon devoured all of the reading material the monastery’s small library had on the subject and he begged Father John to teach him more. Eventually, even Father John could offer no more lessons on the physical studies. He then switched to theology, and educated Alfred in the theories of Holy magic. Again, Alfred was an adroit student, and soon he was making rounds with Father John to the homes of sick villagers to observe and practice both magic and medicine in between his other studies. As Father John became older and more feeble, Alfred began performing the healing on his own more often than not and he gained even more valuable and uplifting experiences. His experiences, however, also taught him that sometimes, no matter how hard one tried, the patient died. He became even more quiet and introspective after a particularly sad day in which he could do nothing but hold a dying child’s hand while she breathed her last.
On his eighteenth birthday, Alfred took his temporary vows and joined the Church as an Initiate. It would be a year before he was allowed to commit his entire life to service to God. The very next day, however, a rebellion broke out in the North and Alfred was swept up in the conflict. The town was occupied by the rebels, and the priests were forced under threat of execution to aid the injured soldiers. Alfred was especially overworked, and soon became ill from exhaustion and over-exertion with Holy magic. He spent a week in bed, barely breathing, but when he woke up, the Celestan Army had retaken the town. After a brief investigation to insure that the priests had not aided the rebels by choice, Alfred was approached by an officer and offered a position within the Army as a medic. A sudden desire to see the world before he was stuck within the walls of a monastery forever seized him, and Alfred accepted on the spot. He spent the afternoon with the priests saying good-bye, and then officially joined the Army.
Marching and fighting taught Alfred many things besides martial skill and discipline. He learned about the corrupt nature of men, the elitism of the Army, and how the “good guys” are rarely that. He observed the filthy living conditions of the common soldier compared to the relatively lavish supplies enjoyed by the officers. He stood by and watched as the Army butchered rebels, sometimes even after they had surrendered. At times was told to heal a man so that he could be tortured again for names and locations. The question of whether he was doing the right thing constantly plagued him, and often kept him from sleeping at night. He managed to keep a hold on his sanity through his prayers and small efforts to improve life around the camp by teaching the soldiers about sanitation and the importance of food preparation.
One day, Alfred’s squad was out patrolling the forest and was ambushed by the insurgents. Everyone in the squad save Alfred was killed in the attack, and he was saved only by the fact that his mount fallen on him after he had been bucked off and knocked unconscious by the fall. Upon awakening, Alfred was cold, tired and hungry; basically in note state to perform any sort of magic. However, he was also badly injured. The horse’s fall had broken his leg, and he was nowhere near the Army’s camp. For several days Alfred worked with what little medicine and supplies he had in his pack to care for his injury, but he also became ill with fever and found himself hallucinating and slipping in and out of consciousness. It was a race against the clock to see if he would be discovered before the fast disappearing herbs which were holding his illness at bay ran out.
Luckily for Alfred, the patrol’s absence was noted, and several others were dispatched to locate the missing soldiers. Alfred was found in a dazed state near the site of the ambush and was taken back to the camp. After recovering for a month and a half, Alfred was back in the saddle and healing and fighting again in the closing days of the rebellion. His broken leg, however, had set incorrectly in the wilderness and despite breaking it again and attempting to re-set it, the bone healed with a very slight bend to it. While small, it was enough to cause Alfred to limp for the rest of his life.
After the rebellion was crushed, nearly three years after he had left, Alfred retired from the Army, collected his pay and tried to return to his monastery. He stayed there for five more years, but was never happy. Recurrent nightmares and bouts of depression and anger disturbed his every waking and sleeping moment. He continued to pray and work throughout his suffering, but he became a hollow husk of the man he once was. Eventually, the priests decided that he needed to leave the North in order to overcome his trauma, and sent him to the capital with another monk to study at the center of the Church’s domain.
The trip south and studies in the capital did much to revive Alfred’s spirits, and he emerged from his depression stronger than before. His knowledge of medicine and magic grew as he studied in the nation’s largest libraries and worked with the greatest healers the Church had to offer for fifteen years. To this day he continues his studies, though at a much more relaxed pace, and occasionally takes on a pupil of his own. He prays in the Cathedral and travels throughout the city, aiding the poor and preaching the word of God. Alfred hopes to return to the North someday, but when that day will come, he is uncertain.
Approved by Titus ;D
Race: Human
Profession: Priest
Age: 40
Likes: Alfred likes solitude, but despite his sometimes gruff demeanor also loves helping people, especially the poor and downtrodden. He has a passion for the North, his homeland, and its people. He loves reading books whenever he gets the time, and can often be found with one on his person at all times. He enjoys debates and discussions on any topic, but especially theology, philosophy and literature. He loves his faith, though is sometimes critical of it for not doing enough for the poor. Discipline and order are important parts of his life. Good food and good beer are also favorites.
Dislikes: The extravagantly wealthy anger Alfred, as do people who are unnecessarily cruel to one another. Alfred is not fond of vampires, and mistrusts their motives, but does not hate them. Stupidity, especially the kind which leads to people getting hurt, is inexcusable in his book, as are laziness and disorder. Those who glorify war make Alfred's blood boil.
Weapons/fighting knowledge: Having served with the Army in the North as a medic and cleric, Alfred knows how to fight with a mace and shield, but rarely carries said weapons. He is also proficient with a quarterstaff, which he often uses as a walking stick because of his limp.
Magic: Holy / Healing
Appearance: Alfred stands roughly six feet tall, and has a sleek, muscular build (~160 lbs) he developed (and learned to maintain) in the Army. He has short, straight brown hair which is just beginning to show hints of gray throughout, but especially at the temples. He has a well maintained short beard, and has bushy eyebrows. Alfred’s eyes are a deep blue, and always seem to be looking through or into people.
Clothing: Alfred usually wears a long, hooded black robe (think monk) cinched at the waist with a simple rope belt, and carries a quarterstaff as a walking stick. When violence is necessary, however, he owns a chainmail shirt and helm along with his shield and mace.
History:
Alfred was abandoned at birth on the steps of a church in the northern parts of Celesta. His mother was a beautiful barmaid named Katherine who had been the subject of amorous attention from a soldier by the name of Thomas at the local garrison. When she discovered that she was pregnant and told him, Thomas quickly lost interest in her. Katherine was faced with the prospect of raising a child alone on funds barely able to cover her own living expenses. Faced with this difficulty, Katherine made the heart-wrenching decision to leave him with the local priests in the hopes that he would have a better life in the Church. She told them in a note that his name was Alfred, and that she was very sorry and hoped to meet the boy one day. Though he has yet to meet her, to this day Alfred keeps the note pressed between the pages of his Book of Prayers.
The priests raised Alfred as though he were their own son, and soon discovered that he was a very intelligent boy; clever, and quick to grasp the lessons in letters and numbers at an early age. He was a serious and reverent child, and the holy men began to hope that he would stay within the Church as he aged. He dutifully prayed with the priests, performed his chores and observed the rules of the monastery to the letter. His favorite part of the day, however, was the early afternoon, just after lunch, when the priests stopped his classes for an hour or so to let him play with the other children. Alfred enjoyed spending time with them, though he was always sad to see them picked up by their parents at the end of the day. He knew, despite the love the priests showed him that he had no real family.
When Alfred was fifteen, one of the oldest and most well respected priests, Father John, became his private tutor. Father John taught him geography, mathematics, philosophy and logic, but it was the healing arts, herb lore, medicine and tending to wounds, which Alfred excelled in. The subject fascinated Alfred. He soon devoured all of the reading material the monastery’s small library had on the subject and he begged Father John to teach him more. Eventually, even Father John could offer no more lessons on the physical studies. He then switched to theology, and educated Alfred in the theories of Holy magic. Again, Alfred was an adroit student, and soon he was making rounds with Father John to the homes of sick villagers to observe and practice both magic and medicine in between his other studies. As Father John became older and more feeble, Alfred began performing the healing on his own more often than not and he gained even more valuable and uplifting experiences. His experiences, however, also taught him that sometimes, no matter how hard one tried, the patient died. He became even more quiet and introspective after a particularly sad day in which he could do nothing but hold a dying child’s hand while she breathed her last.
On his eighteenth birthday, Alfred took his temporary vows and joined the Church as an Initiate. It would be a year before he was allowed to commit his entire life to service to God. The very next day, however, a rebellion broke out in the North and Alfred was swept up in the conflict. The town was occupied by the rebels, and the priests were forced under threat of execution to aid the injured soldiers. Alfred was especially overworked, and soon became ill from exhaustion and over-exertion with Holy magic. He spent a week in bed, barely breathing, but when he woke up, the Celestan Army had retaken the town. After a brief investigation to insure that the priests had not aided the rebels by choice, Alfred was approached by an officer and offered a position within the Army as a medic. A sudden desire to see the world before he was stuck within the walls of a monastery forever seized him, and Alfred accepted on the spot. He spent the afternoon with the priests saying good-bye, and then officially joined the Army.
Marching and fighting taught Alfred many things besides martial skill and discipline. He learned about the corrupt nature of men, the elitism of the Army, and how the “good guys” are rarely that. He observed the filthy living conditions of the common soldier compared to the relatively lavish supplies enjoyed by the officers. He stood by and watched as the Army butchered rebels, sometimes even after they had surrendered. At times was told to heal a man so that he could be tortured again for names and locations. The question of whether he was doing the right thing constantly plagued him, and often kept him from sleeping at night. He managed to keep a hold on his sanity through his prayers and small efforts to improve life around the camp by teaching the soldiers about sanitation and the importance of food preparation.
One day, Alfred’s squad was out patrolling the forest and was ambushed by the insurgents. Everyone in the squad save Alfred was killed in the attack, and he was saved only by the fact that his mount fallen on him after he had been bucked off and knocked unconscious by the fall. Upon awakening, Alfred was cold, tired and hungry; basically in note state to perform any sort of magic. However, he was also badly injured. The horse’s fall had broken his leg, and he was nowhere near the Army’s camp. For several days Alfred worked with what little medicine and supplies he had in his pack to care for his injury, but he also became ill with fever and found himself hallucinating and slipping in and out of consciousness. It was a race against the clock to see if he would be discovered before the fast disappearing herbs which were holding his illness at bay ran out.
Luckily for Alfred, the patrol’s absence was noted, and several others were dispatched to locate the missing soldiers. Alfred was found in a dazed state near the site of the ambush and was taken back to the camp. After recovering for a month and a half, Alfred was back in the saddle and healing and fighting again in the closing days of the rebellion. His broken leg, however, had set incorrectly in the wilderness and despite breaking it again and attempting to re-set it, the bone healed with a very slight bend to it. While small, it was enough to cause Alfred to limp for the rest of his life.
After the rebellion was crushed, nearly three years after he had left, Alfred retired from the Army, collected his pay and tried to return to his monastery. He stayed there for five more years, but was never happy. Recurrent nightmares and bouts of depression and anger disturbed his every waking and sleeping moment. He continued to pray and work throughout his suffering, but he became a hollow husk of the man he once was. Eventually, the priests decided that he needed to leave the North in order to overcome his trauma, and sent him to the capital with another monk to study at the center of the Church’s domain.
The trip south and studies in the capital did much to revive Alfred’s spirits, and he emerged from his depression stronger than before. His knowledge of medicine and magic grew as he studied in the nation’s largest libraries and worked with the greatest healers the Church had to offer for fifteen years. To this day he continues his studies, though at a much more relaxed pace, and occasionally takes on a pupil of his own. He prays in the Cathedral and travels throughout the city, aiding the poor and preaching the word of God. Alfred hopes to return to the North someday, but when that day will come, he is uncertain.
Approved by Titus ;D