Klynzahr

Klynzahr slowly crumbled to pieces over the course of her coliseum career. It was a combination of several factors, including the pressure of the crowd, a sense of responsibility for her younger brother, and genuine fear for her life. Eventually she turned to alcohol to cope and took to gambling away her winnings often in a matter of nights. This habit forced her into the ring more frequently, which intensified her anxieties, which lead to drinking, which lead to gambling, which sent her back to the bloodsands in an extremely vicious cycle. At the start of ARR it had gotten so bad that her brother Ginshaw took up adventuring and mercenary work just to get Klynzahr out of the ring. They both wound up volunteering for an auxiliary adventurer based Flame unit in the lead up to operation archon. Klynzahr survived two skirmishes and a small recon operation, before the chaos and bloodshed triggered the worst of her arena memories and she snapped completely. Deserting her unit before they had made past castrum centri's second gate, Klynzahr attempted to run but was stopped when Ultima's blast flattened half the castrum including her. To this day her brother is the only person, who knows why she actually survived that battle. These days Klynzahr is in a pretty good place. Thanks to Ginshaw, who completed several thousand gil's worth of leves to pay off her debts and buy a one way ticket out of Ul'dah, she eventually recovered enough to support herself again. Although she's still broke most of the time, she has kicked the gambling problem and gotten her drinking under control. Her temper is fairly level and she is not prone to lashing out. As for what could break her and send her back into her "2.0 state"? I think it would probably require a combination of factors. She is a year older and a year wiser, with a few more people on her side this time around. Some things that might cause a setback are being forced to kill someone, getting blown up, or getting repeatedly scared out of her mind. ...... and gods help her if she is ever exposed to the temptation of the Gold Saucer.

I initially created my Sea Wolf as a tribute to my longstanding Draenei Paladin from Wow. Oh the hours that I poured into perfecting the profile page that explained how my rugged draenei lady was not a piece of flawlessly oversexualized eye-candy! I labored constantly over that block of in-game text, agonizing over the best way to convey her physique or the perfect wording for her scars. I endlessly tweaked those descriptions for optimum effect, and looked up synonyms for ugly in the dictionary. Only to have all my efforts go to waste, when other RPers didn't even bother to read my efforts and were only interested in flirting with her. Admittedly it was fun getting to sock them in the jaw for it, but I always found myself wishing that someone could see the muscular, disfigured palladin in my head, rather than defaulting to the poofy lipped, doe-eyed, H-cup owning character model. Then one day my wonderful boyfriend sat me down with the benchmark for some strange remake of this failed Japanese MMO. (Yeah, I was not convinced.) He mentioned something about checking out this new race that started with R and was spelled very strange. So I opened the creator and there she was, the giant, powerful lady, with blue eyes and a huge smile that I had been trying in vain to describe for the past two years! :lol: Of course I started out with the idea of remaking my old favorite, but I quickly fell in love with Sea Wolf lore and FF14 lore in general. I've always had a love of the ocean and sailing, with a soft spot for R. L. Stevenson. In other words it was only a matter of time before the Sea Wolf lore won me over completely. Several years later, Klynzahr has become the polar opposite of her soft-spoken, pious, demon-loathing, tough-as-nails predicessor.... and it's great!

Klynzahr's nose has been broken seven times. The first was in a childhood scuffle, the second was a sparring accident, the third was for teasing her brother once too often, the fourth was from a loose stay snapping across her face, the fifth was for crossing the wrong brass blade, the sixth was Eva throwing a political textbook at her, and the last time was in the grindstone. At this point she can't really breathe through her nose anymore and has no sense of smell. 8-)

Okay ... I'll bite. I generally don't select big arching ''theme songs'' for my characters. Instead I find inspiration in traditional tunes and lyrics that I feel would be familiar to them. For Klynzahr this means lots of sea shanties and maritime tunes, like this one by Great Big C. qk9xIw6-aUg I am reminded of this next one every time that Klyn runs into a fresh young adventurer. It may not refer to a sea going vessel, but it sums up her experiences very nicely. I could easily imagine her singing this after a couple of drinks. pMDk-3gCIRw The Bluenose is a bit loaded but the imagery is wonderful and ties to Klyn's story on many levels. vo1IvV6qAWY I just realized that I have gotten a ton of inspiration from Stan Rodgers. His songs about leaving the sea behind really speak for Klynzahr. However if I had to pick one, I think this sums her character up extraordinarily well. She is The Idiot (just swap East for West and Factory for Ship.) yMfwxWA14zo "So I bid farewell to the Western town I never more will see. But work I must, so I eat this dust and breathe refinery. Oh I miss the green and the woods and streams And I don't like [ul'dahn] clothes But I like being free, and that makes me An Idiot I suppose." /endmusicdump :roll:

The tools of her trade lay spread out across the hearth, illuminated by the dull orange glow of a dying fire. Three bone handled scalpels, bartered from a cheap Ul'dhan trader, two sets of forceps, showing hints of rust on the handles, and a pair of fine nosed tweezers formed the first row. Below them rested rolls of gauze, linen dressings, woolen bandages, and rolls of marmot gut in a sad state of frayed disorganization. On the far left rested needle nosed scissors and a wickedly sharp bone saw, which had long since grown tarnished. Opposing them was a bottle of antiseptic spirits, now half empty, along with several assorted jars. Klynzahr was a sawbones in the most literal sense of the word, trained to handle the more gruesome tasks required of a seafaring arcanist. While her teacher oversaw the more learned chores of physicking patients and calculating wind velocity, she had provided a pair of willing hands to set bones, remove embedded objects and keep a firm eye on ale-addled crewmates when they staggered back aboard after a night in Limsa's taverns. It had been said that she grasped the trade with remarkable speed, outstripping her predecessor after less than two years of tutelage. Considering the other boy's experience, she had not been expected to serve half as well. He had been selected, like most of the arcanist's preferred assistants, because he had served his apprentice years with a well reputed butcher of livestock. Klynzahr lacked even this advantage. If the equipment spread out before her smacked of neglect and disuse, it was little compared to how unprepared she was herself. Five years ashore had dulled her skills and left the once nimble hands rough and clumsy. In the orange firelight a list had been growing, written with a stub of pencil on half a parchment sheet. Various potions, supplies and replacement tools were noted, each set down next to an estimated value in gil. It had been the work of three bells to find the measure of her odd collection and outline it's transformation into a proper field medic's kit. Making a proper field medic out of a rusty sawbones, would be another matter entirely. "Wait fer yer shoulder ter heal." She had insisted earlier that evening, while Eva outlined her plans in the deep recesses of the Forgotten Knight. The lie had slipped easily from Klynzahr's tongue, covered by her genuine concern for Evangeline's safety. However it was plain to the stubborn Roegadyn that her friend was already well recovered. The initial fever had burned itself out over the first night and the wound was discharging clear. Evangeline had bounced back from the infection with her typical exuberance, shaking off the weariness in a matter of days. The hearty elezen could have safely embarked for the Dusk Vigil that night. It was Klynzahr herself who need more time. Scowling she lifted an old jar of ointment from the hearth. Gummed shut, with the label worn completely off, it took several moments for her to wrench the lid open. It was burn salve, long since gone rancid. Wrinkling her nose, Klynzahr replaced the lid and added a note to her list of supplies. " 'Vangeline" She mumbled to the dying fire "I donna think ye realize what ye be askin' o'me." Placing her cheek against the wall, the Roegadyn finally set her notes aside. The tools of her gristly trade stared accusingly up at her, bathed in blood red light. From the recesses of her bag a long disused grimoir peeked out furtively. Closing her eyes against the daunting sight, Klynzahr resolved to hide the evidence of her clumsy preparations before Evangeline wandered in, but sleep claimed the Reogadyn first.

I guess that I missed this it's first time round... While it is not technically a trinket, Klynzahr is extremely attached to the poorly fitted maelstrom sargent's coat that she carries on her journeys. Klynzahr is not a member of the Maelstrom and has no intention to join them. The coat actually belonged to her stepmother, who was a particularly small and feisty Sea Wolf marauder. Thanks to some alterations made before the birth of her youngest half-brother, Klynzahr is now able to fit into her stepmother's old coat, although it's still too short for her. One of the coat's pockets always holds a carved wooden glasses case. The other one holds a small charcoal sketch in a cracked bronze frame. The drawing depicts a particularly skinny ten year old version of Klyn seated next to a tiny Hyuran boy, while the glasses case shows a sailing ship etched above the name Eyritrachen. Some people have noted Klynzahr's apparent attachment to her old falchion blade. However her connection of the sword is far more practical. Since it was the primary weapon used during her gladiator career, it has saved her life and the lives of her friends more times than she cares to count. She hates what the blade stands for, yet feels immeasurably safer with it by her side.

I think you included "warrior" in your pole twice. On topic, I picked generic disciple of war, because Klynzahr is a semi-retired gladiator with no intention of becoming a paladin. Disciple of magic could also be a little relevant, since she completed half of an arcanist apprenticeship as a teen. OOC I play a white mage.... :dodgy: Yeah, it has absolutely no relevance to Klynzahr's character. Initially I had the thought the she would be a retired gladiator, who turned to conjury but the conjorurs guild turned out to be a bunch of hippies that don't gel well with her character concept. So now Klyn is a professional adventurer and couch surfer but I still play WHM.

Seeing characters like this really makes me wish that my main was still living in Limsa. Currently she's docked in Ishgaurd and was in Ul'dah before that, but I suppose there is always a chance I could bring her home. I do have two well developed alts in the area. Iyrnahct Sterrankasyn is a shipwright and armour smith out of Moraby, who makes frequent trips out to Limsa for supplies and a nip at the wench. Daniwyda Merlfalkwyn is an old retired grump of a marauder, with a bum leg and a biting sense of humor. Neither of them are played very frequently but if you wanted to set up a time, I could always bring them out to sample the crabcakes. You should also consider joining Broken Chairs if it is still around. It's an all Roe networking linkshell, where I found many of my initial contacts for Klynzahr back in 2.0.

How does your character deal with killing? To put it simply, not well. Although her profession constantly places her in dangerous situations, she loathes the act of killing and will usually try to avoid it by any means. One of her hard fast rules is never to take a leve that calls for the death of a humanoid, including Garlean forays, bandit raids, and hunts for wanted criminals. Refusing these valuable jobs hits her hard in the coin purse, but she considers it to be a fair trade. When forced into a life or death situation, she is extremely reluctant to strike a lethal blow and this hesitation has cost her dearly on several occasions. She will attempt to talk an opponent down, trip or disarm them, and finally strike crippling blows. The two exceptions are the Sahagin conflicts that she fought in her youth and more recently the assault on Castrum Meridianum, when she assisted with the capture of several outposts and was ordered not to give quarter. How did she feel after her first kill? This is an interesting paradox. Klynzahr's first kill took place during a naval struggle, when the Lominsian merchantman that she was crewing came under attack from pirates. She was on the gun deck working in a team of four, when a cannon ball demolished the gun beside theirs and took down the seaman in charge. Klynzahr and the two other sailors continued, with Klynzahr firing the long gun. She was thirteen years old, spraying the smaller vessel's deck with grape shot, and never once considering the death that she was raining down on them. She had simply stepped one place up in the well oiled machine , which she had been a part of since she could walk. To this day, she completely depersonalizes every naval battle that she fought in. Disregarding the dozens of lives that she was complicit in ending during her childhood, Klynzahr counts her first kill as the incident from her first year in the blood sands. She was fighting a young Highlander in particularly flimsy and impractical armour. Klynzahr's blade slipped under the woman's gorget and literally tore her throat out, leaving Klynzahr traumatized. She was in denial for hours, followed by several days of heavy drinking. Although several similar incidents have occurred since, she has never been able to shake the mental image of the dying gladiator's face and her fighting style has never completely recovered. Do they mull over it later? Quite frequently. The garleans that she killed in Northern Thanalan and her fellow gladiators that have fallen haunt her the most. She feels particularly responsible for the three areana deaths that she caused, believing that she could have prevented them if she had been more conscious of her strength. These memories do haunt her nightmares, making her a particularly restless sleeper. In fact it is a rare night, when she doesn't wake up on the floor at least once. More significantly, they will often flash before her eyes when she is confronted by the possibility of a fight, shattering her focus and often leaving her the last person to react.

I usually find myself reverting to the noun portion of a hellsgaurd name for familiar conversation and using the full name for a more polite tone. If I wanted to convey respect ect. I would probably tack "Ser" in front of the entire name. As for Klyn, she views Iyrnahctwyn very much like any surname. Even though it differs from her brothers' surname by a letter, it still shows the family tie and honors her father. I think she would prefer to be addressed as Miss Iyrnahctwyn in a formal situation. However she isn't going to object much. Generally she's just happy that people are not calling her Klinzome-thing-or-another.

It's even funnier when you unintentionally get it completely right. "Yer Ishgardian? Yer know anythin' bout these thrice damned heretics folk be yammerin' about?" Little did she know....... I do keep 'Walk up friendly' in my tag on the simple hope that someone may try to start something up and in an attempt to seem less intimidating for shy players. Since I don't have much trouble initiating random encounters, I try to take the initiative when the chance presents itself. However this requires Klyn to be standing in a plausibly IC location, with no OOC obligations, or ques about to pop. I also need to see some sign that my potential target the other party is open to an encounter. Simply emoting that your character has sat down on a bench, is enough for me to realize that they are present IC and accidentally dump Klyn's drink on their head or mistake them for a cactuar to get things rolling. The last important thing to remember is that initiating RP requires a fair bit of creative energy. There are days when I can provide that and other days when I'm just too tired. Even if I only manage to start random RP once every week or so, I will continue to keep it in my tag because I see it as a welcoming gesture.

When she was just fourteen summers old, Klynzahr had pried a six ilm long hand spike from her father's calf and sewn the wound shut, while the ship surgeon offered instructions over her shoulder. At eighteen, she had removed a man's leg from the thigh, with nothing to mute his screams aside from a bottle of whiskey and a stick to hold in his teeth. In her twenty second year she had set both of her brother's ankles, with nothing but a few old timbers and strips torn from their blankets. She had thought herself immune. Yet none of it had prepared her for the things that Evangeline had uttered under her hand. Broken sobbing, screams of terror and curses to make a void-sent cringe would never have drawn a second thought from the Roegadyn, but the broken and half-delirious confessions that poured from Eva left her deeply shaken. Very cautiously the Sea Wolf drew herself closer to Eva's feverish form, trying to keep herself balanced on the thin strip of remaining bed. If she closed her eyes, the sea wolf knew she would begin to roll and send either herself or Evangeline to the floor. So she resigned herself to watching her injured friend for a few bells longer, while her mind churned restlessly over the vestiges of torture that she had briefly glimpsed. In opening her friends infected shoulder, Klynzahr's scalpel had disturbed ills that ran deeper than any abscess and spilled them out freely like an oozing puss. Feeling helpless, she ran her hand over Eva's feverish head. Some things lay far beyond her ability to heal.

Are you trying to solo? If so join a fate group and it does okay, it is really crowded atm, but we are getting the XP. Attempted to. However just about every time a fate party opened up it would immediately fill *shrug*. Even then I'd be just dead weight because whm cast times are so long even with buffs that I only got like six hits in on Chimera before he was dead. With small mobs I can barely get of one instant Aero. Its making this last level drag horribly. Wish they would buff the high level stuff to get 50+ players out of there a bit more. You will also get Holy at level 45, which makes the remaining levels into facerolling goodness. 8-)

If sailor tales to sailor tunes, Storm and adventure, heat and cold, If schooners, islands, and maroons, And buccaneers, and buried gold, And all the old romance, retold Exactly in the ancient way, Can please, as me they pleased of old, The wiser youngsters of today: -- So be it, and fall on! If not, If studious youth no longer crave, His ancient appetites forgot, Kingston, or Ballantyne the brave, Or Cooper of the wood and wave: So be it, also! And may I And all my pirates share the grave Where these and their creations lie! ~ To the hesitating purchaser, by Robert Louis Stevenson. Sooner or later every one of my RP characters inspires me to start writing again. Lacking the technical savvy and patience for tumbler, I generally resort to placing my creations up in a forum. This thread is specifically intended to hold stories about Klynzahr and her large rowdy family of Sea Wolves. All stories will be set in the present, unless specifically noted in their post and may refer to RP with other characters on occasion. I always welcome OOC feedback on my writing, particularly in regards to clarity of dialog and action. So please don't be shy about giving me a quick response, suggestions, critiques or just letting me know if you enjoyed a particular story. So without further ado... here are the tales of a landlocked sailor. [align=center]Of Sailors and Domans [/align] Without the ragged bursts of coughing emitting at regular intervals from the interior of his wagon, Elbert Finchley might have assumed that his lone passenger had slipped from the carriage back in the Thanalan dust storms and been lost to the world. For all the conversation that she had provided, answering each of his attempts in hoarse monosyllables, the young merchant may as well have made the long drive to Mor Dhona in solitude. The four guards had split off, ranging the crystalline landscape in pairs, while the other paid passengers had all chosen to ride with his partner Nonorusha in the first carriage. Even with personal assurance that her condition was not catching, from an old sour faced churgieon who had assisted the passenger into his carriage, the caravan’s more credible passengers had chosen to keep well away. After two days and a night with the unceasing cough following him, Elbert could easily see the wisdom in their decision. He had finally succeeded in blocking the ugly sound by conjuring a mental image of the Doman cuisine that he intended to indulge in that evening. Tender slices of Dodo on a bed of rice and greens hung tantalizingly before his eyes, when the cough shocked him back to the present by speaking up on it’s own accord. Shaking the culinary daydreams from his head, Elbert called back “Pardon Mam, I didn’t quite catch that.” His passenger repeated herself in a thin rasping voice “Ken ye see th’Toll yet?” Lifting his eyes above the level of leading carriage for the first time in a quarter bell, Elbert focused on the stone ramparts rising above Mor Dhona’s crystal peaks. “Yes.” He replied “You can make them out a malm off these days.” Determined to keep this spark of conversation alive, he craned his neck back to ask “Come to the Toll often then?” She replied with a curt grunt of “Aye” that sent his hope of conversation plummeting, but to his great surprise she waited just long enough to gather her breath before continuing. “Not often as some ‘venturers, but a fair bit. Me brother lives here.” “You may find it quite changed from your last visit.” He pointed out uncertain how long this sudden talkativeness would last. “Much quieter since those scions were routed.” “The ‘venturers have all gone North.” She replied thoughtfully, “Strange breed they be, canna resist th’alure o’ a new horizon. Offer ‘em a bit o’ work, with danger an’ fame ter be had an’ they’ll be drawn in like flies ter a light.” “You seem rather opinionated for one of their number.” “Aye.” “So you don’t plan on going North, when your health improves?” The response took long enough to convince Elbert that her capacity for conversation had already been drained. However his passenger surprised him for the third time in as many minutes. “I’ve seen a great many lands. I got no pressin’ need ter add Ishgard ter me list.” She was silenced by another fit of hacking, which sent shivers down Elbert’s spine. “Churgieons be damned” he swore silently to himself “Next time one offers me a me passanger that ‘isn’t catching’ I’ll send them right off, gil in hand and Nonorusha can choke on his protests” The prospect of standing up to his elder partner filled Elbert with confidence and pride. After two years he reasoned that he had earned the right to a fairer say in their business. The next time that overbearing Lalafell agreed to carry a passenger, who sounded like they were dying of pneumonia, halfway across Eorzea he would need to place them in his own carriage. Elbert was just deciding on the choice words he would use to confront Nonorusha, when the chocobos began to drop their pace without his bidding. Looking up he found the first carriage halted at looming gates of Reverent’s Toll, while his partner exchanged a brief conversation with the guards. Allowing Nonorusha to handle the arrangements unaided, he returned his attention to the passenger behind him. “We’ll be through these gates in a moment now, Mam. You mentioned that your brother was waiting, did you not?” The response came more quickly than he had expected “Aye, Ginshaw Iyrnahctsyn, but he’ll no be waitin’. Doesn’t know I’m on me way.” “Now there’s a decent name for a Sea Wolf. Ginshaaaw.” Elbert rolled the smooth vowels over his tongue thoughtfully. “I’ll fetch him for you when we’re through. Save you the strain of walking there yourself.” “Don’t trouble yourself.” Came the slightly curt response. “He can’t lift me.” “Must be scrawny Sea Wolf if he can’t manage to lift you.” Elbert made no attempt to hide his surprise. “He’s a carpenter.” She replied, as though it ought to settle the matter. While they spoke the caravan had already been situated inside the keep, with Elbert’s well trained chocobos practically parking themselves. The other adventurers were unloading themselves from Nonorusha’s carriage, splitting off towards the tavern or the adventurer’s guild. While the tireless Nonorusha discussed the unloading of their wears, Elbert slid himself down from the seat, taking the time to stretch and rub at his numb calves. Making his way leisurely around the rear of the wagon, he fully expected to find his passenger stretched out motionless on his bales of phurble wool, exactly as he had found her each time the caravan had paused to rest. So it gave him a jolt to walk around the side and find himself staring up at the huge Roegadyn, already on her feet and wheezing heavily. “Are ye certain. Ye shouldn’t sit down while I fetch this Ginshaw?” He asked quickly, considering what the repercussions may be if she were to pass out and injure herself. However she waved him off dismissively before starting off across the courtyard. Elbert waited indecisively for nearly a minute, while his partner came over to unharness his birds. Eventually his sense of responsibility gave way to curiosity and a reluctant measure of concern for the adventurer he had ridden with from Ul’dah. “Nonorusha Jojorusha!” He called over his shoulder, as he abandoned the unfortunate lalafell to the task of unloading. “I will just see to it that Iyrnahctwyn arrives safe. Would be trouble for us if she came to harm at this point.” “Well make haste, then.” Came the snappish reply “While you’re at it inform Rowena we’ve arrived, order a bushel of gysahl greens brought down here, and book our inn rooms!” The Roegadyn made no comment when Elbert came puffing up beside her, continuing towards the upper apartments at the same sluggish pace. However she offered him an amiable nod as they passed inside. After crossing the interior hallway, she lead the way up three flights of stairs, stopping at least twice on each to catch her breath or wait out a fresh coughing fit. When the pair finally gained the landing, she propped herself against the stone wall and gave Elbert a curious look. “Ye ken go now.” She assured the merchant “It’s no far.” “Oh, well, it’s really no trouble.” Elbert replied casually. Having held his patience for the entirety of their long and silent carriage ride, he was determined to see his curiosity satisfied in some measure. After resting for a few minutes, the Roegadyn gave a resigned shrug and continued at the same laboured pace. Down the hallway to an open veranda, around the building and up yet another flight of steps she lead him, clearly confident of her way. On the narrow railing of the uppermost level someone had placed a single gleaming red apple, balancing it precisely opposite to a small oak framed door. Elbert’s self appointed charge slowed to a halt on this stoop, smiling up at the doorway as she caught her breath again. The door was rather unremarkable aside from several Doman designs carved around the outer frame. Unlike the dusty stoop, the door was spotlessly clearn, gleaming with a fresh coat of carefully applied varnish. Over the lintel hung a handmade wooden sign, which Elbert slowly read aloud. “Carpentrey and Fine Carvings” He stated with a hint of pride “This is the place then?” “Aye, ye ken go along now.” Was the only response. With his patience beginning to fray, Elbert turned to face his charge, who was resting against the low railing.“And what of your brother?” He urged, “Ye told me there had been no word sent of your trip.” “He’ll be along.” Impatiently Elbert stepped up to the door and knocked. When there was no answer, he tried the latch. From behind him came the crunch of a juicy apple. The Roegadyn was staring at him over the mouthful of fruit. Despite the ashy hue of her face and the ugly wheeze in her lungs, she wore an amused smirk. The fruit was crunched and swallowed promptly. “Ye should go now.” “And this brother of yours?” “I told ye already,” She repeated, with a knowing grin. “He’ll be along.” Protests were already sitting on the tip of Elbert’s tongue, when a motion on the roof behind him caught his eye. Before he could catch a decent look, the small lithe figure had dropped gracefully to the landing, sending Elbert reeling back in surprise. Images flashed before his eyes of the coinpurse torn from his belt, his throat slit to cut short his cries and his lifeless body tossed to the courtyard below, where Nonorusha would chance upon it and sob. It took several moments for the terrified merchant to comprehend that the strange Hyur was not actually threatening him. He was laughing. With his heart thundering inside his chest, Elbert bit back the scream that had threatened to break free. In the awkward pause that followed, the badly shaken merchant forced himself meet the stranger’s eye and give him an overly stiff nod of greeting. Peering back up at Elbert was a lightweight Doman man, with sharp foxy features and extremely pale grey eyes. His hair was concealed by a dusty black scarf and his bare feet clung to the uneven cobbles under them. Comfortably clad in a dark sleeveless tunic and leggings, he returned Elbert’s nod in casual bemusement. The colourfully dressed Ul’dahn was quick to note that the Doman’s right arm hung awkwardly, twisted and marred by the scars of several old stab wounds, although the shorter man had attempted to angle it away from him. “Another leap like that one.” He cautioned, breaking the silence with a mischievous smirk. “And you would have tumbled to the courtyard below.” His gaze swiveled across the landing to the pale Roegadyn, who was doubled up in another coughing fit and had set the apple down. The small Doman’s jovial expression grew grim at the sight and he addressed Elbert in a low tone that left little room for argument. “You should go.I am certain that your partner could use some assistance.” “But I’m waiting for…” “.....Her brother? Ginshaw Iyrnahctsyn?” The Doman cut Elbert off sharply “Don’t be concerned about him. I will wait with Klynzahr until her brother happens along.” The Doman’s gaze bore an uneasy resemblance to the expression that Nonorusha wore, when his mind would not be swayed and the Roegadyn was already nodding in her agreement. Fairly outnumbered, Elbert glanced down at the stone courtyard dizzyingly far below and judged it best not to try his luck further. Nodding a hurried farewell to the strange pair he resigned himself to end the long and tedious day with a short and sharp admonishment from Rowena. As he descended the stairs, Elbert wondered for the upteenth time that trip how Nonorusha managed unfailingly to saddle him with the most unpleasant tasks. The two figures at the top of the stairs remained motionless until the merchant's steps had receded from the lower hallway. Then the tiny Hyur thrust his arms around the exhausted Roegadyn’s waist.“Klinny!” He declared, sliding into broad Lominsian slang “Ye look like right shite!” “I love ye too Ginshaw.” Klynzahr wheezed back.

Considering the character that I play, I feel obligated to join this thread. Here is a selection from Klynzahr's rather long list of fears. First Fear - Explosions and similar loud noises, including canon fire, gunshots, and magitech blasts. The mere mention of these causes her great anxiety. Setting off a fire cracker near her may result in a Sea Wolf diving under the nearest chair. How She Copes - Generally through avoidance, although certain friends of hers have been known to make this difficult. Her instinctive reflex to dive for cover has actually saved her life in several instances. In the aftermath of an incident she frequently resorts to alcohol to calm her nerves. How People Have Responded - Well Eva has responded by setting off explosives next to Klyn at every available opportunity, presumably for her own entertainment. She has been laughed at IC and called "Jumpy" and "Timid" by various people. (OOC most folks find it pretty amusing to watch a giant Roegadyn trying to hide under a chair ) Could She Ever Be Cured? - I honestly doubt it for this one. While Eva has certainly made some progress in numbing Klyn to it. The end result will probably be better coping but not true loss of the fear. Second Fear - This one is less glaringly obvious to most people. Klynzahr is extremely anxious and fearful around large crowds. The most noticeable result of this is how the normally talkative Roe clams up when there are more than four or five people in the room. If the crowd is large, tightly packed, or rowdy she breaks into a cold sweat and may make a break for the exit (shoving everyone in her path out of the way) How She Copes - Klynzahr handles crowds by positioning herself near on the outskirts or near an exit, where she feels more comfortable. If she becomes overwhelmed, she beats a quick exit and goes straight to a familiar location. How People Have Responded- I am not sure if anyone has noticed. They certainly have not mentioned it. Could She Ever Be Cured? - This one may be possible over time. She already copes quite well. Third Fear - This one is slightly more complex and originated during RP last year. Klynzahr is deeply afraid of loosing control of her mind or having her grip on reality shaken. How She Copes - This one is a subject that she tends to avoid very strongly. Fortunately it is rarely triggered. How People Have Responded- It has only come up once in recent RP, when Eva's pain medication induced hallucinations for Klyn. Her resulting aversion to pain control seems to have convinced several characters that she is a masochist. Could She Ever Be Cured? - This one is probably a healthy fear, and I doubt she will ever loose it completely. Fourth Fear - Poverty. This is a fear born of experience for Klynzahr. She is terrified that injury or misfortune will bar her from adventuring and leave her starving on the streets. Or worse yet that bankruptcy will force her back to Ul'dah's fighting pits. How She Copes - By working obsessively, refusing most obligations and responsibilities, and generally living an extremely bohemian lifestyle. How People Have Responded - Most other characters seem puzzled by her obsession with work and gil, particularly those who are well off. Verad seems not to mind, because she is willing to take dubious things off of his hands if he pays her a few gil. Could She Ever Be Cured? - It is possible that this fear will ease over time. Most Recent Fear - She is now scared of mammots (thanks Spahro) How She Copes -By giving all things clockwork a wide berth. How People Have Responded - "Wait, you had your ribs crushed by a what?? ..... Hahahahaha!" Could She Ever Be Cured? - I am honestly not sure. Other Fears - There are lots of things in Eorzea that scare Klyn, which I will not write out here. The list includes commitments, poison, rogues, dragons, tax collectors, brass blades, voidsent, pirates, beastmen, starvation, anything larger than herself, her own emotions and loosing her eyesight.

So much delicious lore! *Gobbles up*

*High fives*

Especially considering how interesting Roegadyn lore is. I just wish there was more customization of Roes. I'd love to make one that has more of the slender look like Merlwyb has. A lot of that comes down to what they wear and how you play with the boob/muscle sliders. I have found that my short, grumpy Sea Wolf alt actually seems more shapely than Klynzahr, simply because I pushed her bust size up by thirty points or so. It gives her more of a waist and resulted in her appearing skinnier! Also long coats and dresses make a big difference.

Ticks Roegadyn box, ticks again for alt, ticks again for second alt.... It still feels lonely up here.

Can I start out by saying how much I love this idea! I've been wondering if there was a way to connect with other current/ex-gladiators for a while now. You may wish to clarify in the title that the thread is referring to all career gladiators and not just the class GLD. 1. Character Name Klynzahr Iyrnahctwyn 2. Gladiator Name Currently none. However several years ago she was known as 'The Blue Wolf', the larger and bulkier half of 'The Blue Wolf and the White Fox'. 3. Current Age 29 4. Age While A Gladiator She began her career in the coliseum at 24 and officially retired at 27. However she can still be seen frequently training at the Gladiator's guild or participating in the grindstone. 5. Main Weapon She fought her first season with a marauder's broad ax, before shifting almost exclusively to sword and board. She quickly developed a preference for a particularly long, hooked falchion, which she generally pairs to a light shield. 6. Fighting Style During her three year coliseum career, Klynzahr fought almost exclusively in pairs or small group matches. Her preferred partner was the midlander Hyur Ginshaw Iyrnactsyn, better known as 'The White Eyed Fox'. Although the two enjoyed several successful streaks, common opinion held that Ginshaw was carrying his larger 'crew mate'. The exclusively ax wielding Fox, fought with a flamboyant and aggressive style that easily overshadowed his more cautious partner. 7. Where They Fought/Fight both past and present Previously the Coliseum. She has recently returned to fight in the Grindstone after an absence of two years. 8. Any Other Notable Characteristics It should be noted that Klynzahr was responsible for the deaths of three competitors early on in her career. All were properly declared accidental, despite their brutality. These transgressions gained her an early following among the rougher spectators and more than a few enemies among her peers. Later in her career, Klynzahr adopted an almost passive style, engaging only to distract competitors from the Fox and abandoning individual matches all together. During these years it was rumored that she would pace the hallways of the Gladiator guild for hours before each match and some said that she would vomit in the street before her fights. This lead to further rumors of alcoholism. As 'The White Eyed Fox' gained a greater renown, he began to fight frequent solo matches. In his last appearance on the sands, the Fox was brutally beaten by an elezen lancer. Spectators and gladiators alike witnessed Klynzahr leaving the stands in distress to carry away her injured team mate. Soon after rumors began circulating that she had taken him home to Limsa Lominsia to die. Neither of them have fought on the sands since. I would really like to build up some connections through this history, wither you have fought against her and Fox, teamed up with them, or simply spectated.

This!

To put it simply, YOU ARE DOOMED! :surprise:

Well Klynzahr has a slight advantage, having encountered several Doman Raen during her early years. When she does poke her nose outdoors again, I believe her reaction will be "Wait.... you guys came along too?" The Xaela may be more problematic, because her only experience comes from a few doman sailor tails regarding brutal black horned warriors. She will probably be terrified at the sight of them. Unfortunately she still considers both tribes to be a Doman variety of beast man, believing them to possess lesser intelligence and fewer morals than the other races. She may be in for a very rude awakening. :lol:

Welcome back Gin! :lol: I'm looking forward to many continued stories and some new ones too. *Balls up the duct tape and tosses it in the trash* "We won't be needing that anymore."

I actually found myself in the exact same predicament, with my own main character. Her backstory hinged on being able to fight as a gladiator, but tanking absolutely terrified me. While it's still far from my cup of tea, I am extremely glad that I pushed through to keep her story intact. Here are my best tips. 1) Level to 60 first and complete the MSQ with your preferred class role. Simply having a class at max level, will give you a big XP boost to the next class that you level. This also removes the pressure of tanking, while you work through the main instances and allows you to enjoy them. 2) Rather than leaping into the fray at level 20 or 30 content, start out with the most basic guildhiests and work up from there. Guildhiests are particularly useful if you are nervous because you can take lots of breaks between the short fights. 3) When you first enter a dungeon quickly type a message to the effect of "I have never tanked this place before. Do you have any tips?" You should already have familiarized yourself with the fight, by running it on your OOC class, watching a video, or reading a guide. Even so you are going to mess up on your first run, and I have had some really great responses and support from randoms by being honest from the beginning. 4) Don't be afraid to use #3 on your second or third attempt if you still feel insecure about the dungeon. It helps people to understand that you are still learning. 5) Get familiar with non-tank methods of leveling. For the three weeks that I spent leveling my tank, I carefully completed the challenge log every week. The EXP is decent and it breaks up the stress of tanking really well. 6) If you can find friends who are willing to help, Grab them! You may still be repeatedly positioning the entire party in nasty AOEs but at least you know they will understand. 7) If all else fails grind FATES. Since you have already unlocked DK, you can already strike #1 off of your list. If you should happen to see me around on Klynzahr Iyrnahctwyn and want help with #6, I would be happy to heal you through whatever content you wish to try. For the rest all it takes is a little patience and persistence. Remember once you hit 60 you never need to tank again! 8-) ....well not until 4.0.