Hydaelyn Role-Players - Profile of Telluride

Telluride
(String Theorist)

Registration Date: 10-06-2014
Date of Birth: Not Specified
Local Time: 07-16-2025 at 12:52 AM
Status: Offline

Telluride's Forum Info
Joined:	10-06-2014
Last Visit:	12-25-2016, 02:26 AM
Total Posts:	1,171 (0.3 posts per day \| 0.39 percent of total posts) (Find All Threads — Find All Posts)
Time Spent Online:	1 Month, 1 Week, 3 Days
Reputation:	254 [Details]

Telluride's Contact Details
Homepage:
Private Message:	Send Telluride a private message.
ICQ Number:	0

Additional Info About Telluride
Gender:	Male
Location:	Florida
Bio:	Nathan, a rather towering example of the Highland bloodline, was born to a single mother and weaver (who admitted once to having a predilection towards "large men" and would say no more about it) into a troupe of traveling musicians and performers, of the sort that might be called "gypsies" in some other place. The boy grew quickly, his naturally large build insulating him from much of the hazing and harassment of youth, and from an early age his life became all about strings: the threads of the clothing and costumes he helped his mother sew; the strings of the lute, which he took to with dedication as his part of the troupe's performance; the longbow, with which he had demonstrated an early affinity; and the ties of blouses and skirts, which he was ever-plucking in his mind, and often enough in reality, among the troupe's audiences. The close-knit troupe, led by a handsome woman known as "The First String", was composed of a little bit of each of Eorzea's races, and knew no home but their wagon train and whatever town or village would offer coin to see their well-choreographed performances. The young Hyur got into his share of mischief, though among the pickpockets, dancing girls and rakes of his extended family, he was considered a bit reserved in deed if not in braggadocio and voice, largely from his duties to see to his mother's care. Life for young Nathan was warm and exciting, filled with tight choreography and loose morals, until the troupe's last performance. It was at a small settlement on the outskirts of the Black Shroud, among rough villagers whose purses were open enough and whose attitudes were nearly as libertine as the troupe itself. The show went without incident, and was leading into a raucous night until shrill whistles, shouts and growls burst from the woods beyond, and a great band of rampaging Ixal overran the village, slaughtering the inhabitants and packing their possessions away in a bloody, chaotic raid. Nathan himself took a blow to the head, and remembered little more than a haze, a tug on his arm, and being dragged away to the sounds of his family's screams. By the time he fully recovered, the young man found himself relocated to a remote forest clearing. He and his mother had been the only known survivors, though it was not until much later than he would come upon the village's ashen ruin. Out of a mix of fear and despair, Nathan's mother coerced him to take up shepherding, tending a rude and smelly flock of sheep that provided their only income, from mutton and the wool clothing she would produce. A few years passed thus, with the once-vocal lad becoming more and more sullen as he longed for days filled with music, dancing and firelit bodies rather than sheep dung and quiet loneliness. One night, as he ignored the sleeping flock and looked up to the stars, which had been the one source of consistency for the young man, something solidified in his mind. He stood, marched back into their modest hut, packed up what he could, including his lute and bow, and strode forth into the night, determined never to return to the sheep and to his mother's complacency, no matter how much he cared for her. Nathan now wanders from town to town, group to group, and tavern to tavern, earning his keep with lute and bow and a memory full of songs as he goes. Outwardly, he is outgoing, boisterous and happy, again living the life he craved, though without the constant and easy camaraderie of his long-deceased troupe brothers and sisters. Deep within, he is still nagged by the loss of his family, and while he will never again return to the shepherding life he loathed, he does harbor doubts about his decision to become no one's man but his own. Perhaps some group, some cause, some voice, or some pretty face might give him a greater purpose, but considering that he still revels in his reclaimed freedom, it would have to be something quite potent....
Main Character:	Nathan Telluride
Server:	Balmung

Telluride's Signature

"But in the laugh there was another voice. A clearer laugh, an ironic laugh. A laugh which laughs because it chooses not to weep."

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