Torrence Gryymsh

[Lord_Fartknuckle]

Name:Torrence Gryymsh
Age:20
Gender:Male
Race:Elf
Weapon(s):Slatkotak(staff)
Alignment:Good
Height and Weight:5'9''/110lbs
Eye Colour:hazel
Hair Colour:light brown
Likes: Lazing about, pranks, history,clear skies
Dislikes:waking early, pressing situations, driijak

Appearance: Even by his people's standards Torrence is thin. To make up for it, the elf is fairly tall, standing a head over most of his peers. On his pale, long face he possesses round eyes with eyelids drooping under the weight of a sizable pair of brown eyebrows. His nose curves then shoots out pointedly just above a wide mouth that naturally holds a smile to it. His messy burnt umber hair, often riddled with hairs standing on end, often conceals the pointed ears that mark him as an elf.

Torrence is often found with a great yellow straw hat whose brim, if looked at from directly above, would cover any sign of it's wearer. Drooped over his shoulders is a cloak covered in a wispy pattern of dark and light green and is sewed onto leather shoulder pads designed to resemble leaves. Underneath is a grey tunic with images of a great number of the denizens of the earth, including dwarves and even the drow. Underneath finely fitting grey pants is a pair of sleek brown boots with golden roots running along the sides towards the ground.


History: When king Driijak declared that all mages would be moved into slums Torrence and his family were one among the many magic users who managed to leave the country of Utorion, finding asylum in the borders of it's enemy, Albacus. Their common identity and general distrust of their new neighbors had them found a their own community, Waitingswood. For more than a decade Torrence learned of the arcane arts from the leaders of the the village as well as the wilderness and Albacus through the hunters who took up lodgings in his families house on the outer edges of a forest. The peace and unity of the town was irreparably shaken when the Estundium University sent out an invitation to any young mage in Waitingswood who wished to become a student. The leaders forbid any of interested child from leaving only to find that a great number of them were backed by their parents. Thinking this a sign that their sanctuary had been corrupted, the leaders gathered up those they considered loyal, robbed community of anything valuable, and left. The morning after the robbery it was decided that Torrence and a another young mage, Heike, would be sent out in the land to hunt down those that wronged them.


Personality: Torrence has never been one to rush. He prefers to take his time when problems arise and tends to try to keep a positive outlook on a situation. When he's forced to make impromptu actions or he can't deny terrible circumstances, Torrence tends to panic. In part, this is why he prefers the ample peace of healing to the more dangerous schools of magic. The major reason for his focus in the most harmonious of the arcane arts is because he's a pacifist. While he's far from calm-minded and does believe that evil actions should have consequences, he would argue against those ramifications being violent. He attempts to do the right thing in his endeavors though he doesn't actively seek trouble out. Like many of his race, Torrence takes an interest in nature, preferring it to the bustling cities and many of the people as well. Though in many ways the elf is at odds with nature, stubbornly denying it's ruthlessness as having any part in the world.

He smiles without thought, often leading him to look happier than he actually may be. Cautious around strangers (especially humans and citizens of Albacus) he keeps up his positive demeanor, only letting his true feelings show to friends or when his grief is too great. Most of the time Torrence stays easy-going unless faced with open hostility or has successfully tricked someone (in which case he is as giddy as he can get).

powers/abilities/gear:

Healing: Above all else, Torrence is a healer. Under the attentive tutelage of his father and the healers of Waitingswood, the elf has shown unparallelled skill in the most supportive of the arcane arts. He can heal anything minor wound almost instantly with just a bit of attention paid on the affected area and a mumbled word. Diseases, depending on there severity, are just as easy and a good deal of concentration can keep even those close to death a fighting chance at life.

Illusion: While not naturally suited to the task, Torrence has learned a fair amount about the art from his mother. This knowledge takes the form of small scale illusions which can be easily spotted in good lighting or if one is close enough.

In touch with the earth: As an elf of the earth element, he can sense and bend the ground and rock beneath his feet to his will. In his hands sand becomes rock and silent footsteps on the soil become glaring beacons of a persons position.

Rose's cloak: A cloak that changes the colour of it's pattern with the seasons. during the summer and spring, it takes on different hues of green, while in fall the pattern turns to orange, brown and red and in winters it becomes pure white. In the water it changes it's pattern entirely to blend in with deep water.

Jade amulet: A trinket from a much darker time in the Gryymsh family history. In it's active state, all who those who feel it's light upon them will find their flesh turning into dirt till they are nothing but a vaguely humanoid form sticking out from the land. The soul of the creature unfortunate enough to be caught in the amulets light are trapped in this inanimate form unless the bearer of the amulet decides to use them as mindless slaves. However the amount of willpower needed to keep the amulet active is staggering. No one wizard living today has the energy to run the artifact and it's power has been sealed behind several magical barriers with wicked traps set for those who attempting to tamper with it. It only serves Torrence with it's strong green glow which can light the way when it gets dark and it's renown in some parts of Albacus that helps to ward off some who might wish to cause him trouble.

Slatkotak: Torrence's staff, handed down from generation to generation on his father's side. It is actually the lopped off stalk of a large carnivorous plant. Any sufficient healing can awaken a small spark of life in the plant. Once restored, microscopic dust will start pumping out of a large blooming flower at the top of the stalk into the air. This has the effect of relaxing it's victims, slowly soothing all aggression and giving them the urge to be near the plant.

[Lord_Fartknuckle]

The Albacus forests are called home by an uncountable number of captivating and unique creatures, or at the very least are numerous enough to make any biologist attempting to count them give up and label them as such. Even in the smaller forests travelling parallel to the roads running towards the capital could boast of a large array of fantastical wondrous wildlife . From fleet-footed deer, to bellowing lions and fearsome cockatrices. And the flora was just as good if not better. You would need to look no where else to find almost anything you could ever want. At least that’s what Torrence Gryymsh, a young elf mage exploring such a forest, had thought before receiving a few choice words from his travelling partner about it.

“You said this was a shortcut. We‘d have been out here a day less if we‘d stuck to the road!”

The anxious words came from behind the elf. Carefully floating her way down a steep fern covered slope was a young human dressed in brilliant blue robes. Heike flew effortlessly over the ground in what was more gliding than levitation, her wild red hair flowing out behind her.

“The path isn’t safe.” Torrence reminded her. “Neither of us would be able to cast a spell before being robbed blind. Of just material possessions if we’re lucky.”

Heike finished her descent down the slope, brushed herself off and joined her companion among the gigantic moss covered trees.

“Belttown was only two days travel from when we started and the path is manned by guards. You and your constant scavenging has stretched that to more than three.” Torrence noticed an edge beginning to find itself in her voice.

“Sorry, I just…” He trailed off, thinking better of commenting how he‘d have hated to bother her with a trivial thing like properly prepared food. “I’m sorry.” he replied sincerely this time, attempting to diffuse the situation.

Torrence was sorry. Though it wasn’t for slowing their pace or lying when he said he knew of a shortcut through the woods. The last ten days on the road had made that necessary. If he’d let Heike have her way they would have arrived in Belttown tired and hungry in a days travel, used up all their gold on a horse and left without food or rest. He was sorry that whatever joy she could have felt during this journey was robbed from her by the very reason it had begun.

Their village was made of mage families hailing from Utorion and had brought with them all their precious artifacts. For seemingly no reason at all, the leaders had broken into every one of their loyal followers houses and stolen anything of worth in the middle of the night then set off. In the morning, no one could wholly believe what had taken place. The possessions, which they’d held with such sentimentality that they’d abandon their own country to keep them from unworthy hands had been stolen by the people they’d trusted most. All agreed that letting the Albacus authorities meddle in their affairs was a mistake and would most assuredly lead to the return of very little of their possessions. Heike was the first of their village to suggest that she should go after them. Most had been surprised and even a little embarrassed that a teenager could show so much more composure than them.

When she’d asked for help he was the only one who would join. The adults had more responsibility than ever with so little to live off of and they understood that tracking such a powerful group of mages would not make for a quick task. Torrence had relished the opportunity to travel outside the territory of the village and learn more about the outside world. His parents had let him go with the last bit of gold they had. His mother had not trusted illusions which so many of the others had when hiding their valuables and had stored some under their floorboards.

Torrence protectively grasped the sack which contained his families gold from with his vine patterned green cloak and momentarily regretted his trip.

Hours went by slowly as the two slogged on. They continued on past what could have been lunch and didn’t stop to rest for what Torrence believed was dinnertime. Even when all that was left of the sun was a faded orange haze on the horizon they kept on. The elf fell a few paces behind Heike as he began to tire. He looked to her, hoping to see a sign that she felt the same as him and would soon stop. The mage in blue continued to walk as if her stomach were full and the sun was high in the air.

Torrence attempted to muster up the courage to speak, despite whatever reprisal might come. “We should stop.” he said with his voice coming out as a mere whisper.

“Heike.” The elf said again, more clearly this time, when she did not respond. “We must stop.”

Again, the human girl did not even give a hint that she’d heard him. She had to have heard him, he thought. She was doing this on purpose. A sudden feeling of resentment fluttered into his mind. Before his reason returned Torrence had already acted.

Casually, the mage flicked his hand out towards the ground in front of his companion. Heike took a step then lurched forward as what had looked like solid ground turned into fine powder underneath her brown boots. Torrence chuckled as she gave a piercing shriek on her way down to the bottom of his trap.

He came to the edge of the small pit smiling, remembering catching her in a similar trap once. As a child he often invited his classmates to play in the forest which he considered as much his home as he did his house, which was a hut built in that very same forest. As an elf, Torrence had grasped the arcane arts much quicker than his peers and as a long time denizen of the forest he could devilishly outwit the children unlucky enough to call him friend. Heike had often counted among them. Once, he’d tricked her into trying to sneak up on a rabbit that he swore she could keep as a pet if she caught it. As she approached the creature that had been magically put to sleep she neglected to notice the manually dug hole with minor illusion spells making it difficult for an inattentive person to notice. Torrence had mockingly scolded her for forgetting rabbits dug holes. Her stunned expression was very similar to the one she wore now.

“Wuh?”

Torrence couldn’t help himself. He burst into a fit of hysterical laughter so overpowering he had to grasp his knees in order to support himself. The similarities continued as her dumbfounded expression contorted into anger. Torrence was so consumed by his enjoyment that he almost didn’t notice the wavering flame beginning to form at her fingertips.

He certainly noticed as her hands shot up and the flame leaped towards him. The elf beat a hasty retreat as a fireball as large as the hole it sprang from roared past him. It went through the canopy and unerringly into the night sky before sputtering out into a few flickering flames. That had not happened on that day.

Torrence lay on the ground with his soot covered face buried in the grass, having tripped in his panic to get away. His heartbeat mirrored the sound of a galloping horse. I almost died, he thought in disbelief. My friend almost killed me.

An infuriated voice interrupted his voice. “Let me out of here, Torrence!” Heike shouted from her pit. “I’ve had enough of your insufferable pranks!”

For a moment Torrence stared off towards the pit, frozen like a frightened deer. He told himself to be calm and he forced some shaky words come to his lips. “W-we have to rest. We must.”

“We can’t!”, she cried. “Every time we rest, ever time we stop those we hunt move further away! It would take us years to find them!”
Torrence stood up and took a few defiant steps forward, though he didn’t dare get close to the edge of the hole. “Good…” he answered, anger pouring into his words. “Because if we found them tomorrow all we’d be is two tired and starving inconveniences. What does it matter how long it takes?”

For a moment nothing was said and all that stayed in the air was the chirping of crickets and the growing tension between the pair. When Heike spoke next her accusatory growl set him off guard, “ You didn’t come out here to help me, did you?

“What? Of course I di-”. Before Torrence could finish Heike interrupted him.

“Liar!” she spat. “ You came out here to satisfy your curiosity you selfish elf! I don’t want to explore! I don’t want to waste years of my life on this quest! I long for our home! I don’t have the time that you have! I want to mourn my father with my mother not with you.” The last word had been filled with such venom Torrence flinched as soon he‘d heard it. “But I must do this first. You’ve cost me days, Torrence and with those days you may have cost me years!”

Torrence was taken aback. At that moment the young elf realized something that all of his race had learned or would learn at some point. For so long he’d thought that he was the same as everyone else in the village they’d come from. When he was there the word elf had held little meaning. They were all tied to each other as refugees of Utorion, united against Albacus’ authority. The other children had seemed so similar to him. Now, so far away from his home he found them exceedingly different. A few years or even a decade was nothing to Torrence. His father had been around for nearly 300 years and was still young by Elven standards while his mother was approaching 400. Heike’s mother had given birth to her as she had neared an age where having another child would be impossible. As Heike grew up her mother had grown tired and more dependant on her husband with each passing year. Torrence recalled her crying and looking drained as he they’d left their village.

“Heike.” The elf called to his companion calmly. “Heike. You must go back to the village.”

Heike’s voice came back from her hole with a confused note about it. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“ Go back to your mother. As you said, you don’t have the time for this, but I do.”

The girl didn’t pause to think we she answered with an adamant, “No.”

“But why not?!” Torrence asked, stamping a foot on the grass out of frustration. “You said that you didn’t want to do this.”

“I said that I must do it.” came her rebuttal. Torrence noticed the edge she’d had in her voice was less so than before. Perhaps she really was as tired as him. Still, he decided to persist with his questions.

“Why must you? No one made you do anything. There is no duty to fulfill and I am willing to find the mages and bring them to justice in your stead. What problem is there?”

“That you’d bring them to justice.” Heike retorted. She said these words calmly, anyone who could hear it sensed the rage they contained.

Torrence’s frustration became more than that in that moment. Very suddenly a sense of dread came upon him. “What?” he said quietly.

“They do not deserve life.” She said, shifting impatiently in the pit as she tried to ignore the hostile air now bearing down on her.

“Revenge? And you dare to call me selfish.” The elf let those words hang in her mind for awhile before turning his back on the pit to find a tree he could rest against. “I’m going to sleep. We’ll speak further of this in the morning.”

“Torrence. Are you going to let me out of this hole?” She had her answer when her bedroll came careening into the pit with her. She let out one last cry of frustration then slowly found her way to sleep.

When Torrence awoke the next morning he found the pit empty with no signs of where Heike had gone. He searched the perimeter of what he’d barely call a camp and found nothing. He hoped she’d gone back off to their village. She wouldn’t have continued on without him. He had the gold for horses after all. He reached down to happily pat the small sack of his family’s gold. His hands hit the soft fabric of his tunic.