×

Welcome
Hello There, Guest!
- Register


Current

Current Novus date and time is

▶ Year || 502
▶ Season || Summer
▶ Temp || 74℉ (℃) - 100℉ (℃)
▶ Weather || With the end of Spring comes Summer's warm embrace. While some flourish in the comfortable glow of the sun, others take shelter from its sweltering midday heat. Even so, it is now that the continent bustles with life, for it won't be long until a cool chill returns.

Spotlight

Character of the Season
Avdotya

Member of the Season
Jeanne

Thread of the Season
.. Cool your fever ..

Pair of the Season
Ipomoea and Messalina

Quote of the Season
Bexley gives him a cold, dark, beautiful smile. “Wanna see a trick?” she asks, eyes glowing with feral self-satisfaction. The bare of her teeth in a mock-grin is nothing less than terrifying. “I can make you see ghosts.” do the hungry ever sleep?

see here for nominations


DISCORD


CBOX

Asterion
Dusk Court Regent


The Character


Offline

▶ Age: 5 [Year 496 Winter]
▶ Gender: Male [He/Him/His]
▶ Orientation: Heterosexual
▶ Breed: Thoroughbred Mutt
▶ Height: 16 hh
▶ Health: 10
▶ Attack: 10
▶ Experience: 23
▶ Signos: 230 (Donate)

▶ Joined: 09-05-2017
▶ Last Visit: 1 hour ago
▶ Total Posts: 83 (Find All Posts)
▶ Total Threads: 9 (Find All Threads)

Send Message




At first glance, the stallion is nothing remarkable: tall, lean, handsomely made; a dark bay with a small star slightly off-center between his large dark eyes. But there is a shimmer about him, when the light catches him right, and on closer inspection its source becomes apparent: he is just the slightest touch of sabino, but instead of white markings it’s twilight that’s touched him, blues and silvers and the barest of rose that brindles his rump and his belly, the silver of cold stars that’s shot through his mane and tail.

It’s an apt look for him, a dreamer’s look that matches his dreamer’s heart. His eyes are deepest brown, and curious, and kind, but his heart is full of longing, a low-banked fire that comes through, sometimes, when he looks at you. He could be a warrior, with enough training — he has the body for it, though he’s less brawny than slender. He might fill out, in time, being only four years old. But then, there’s an absence of hardness in him, and it comes through in the way he walks, the grace of a deer rather than a wolf or a lion.

Woe, though, to the one that points this out to him.
For better or for worse, Asterion is more dreamer than doer, though he wants badly to be the latter. Someday, he’s sure, he’ll get there - but another of the stallion’s flaws is that he needs a north star, a guiding purpose, a direction for his dreaming. In part because of his quiet, safe upbringing, he comes off as younger than the nearly five he is; maybe he’ll always be a tousle-haired boy, in some respects.

He’s kind and hopeful, with a moral center inherited from his father that he closely adheres to. His inexperience and generally trusting nature make him more gullible than perhaps he ought to be; so far nobody has taken advantage of him for it, but there comes a time for everything.

Asterion is courageous in a quiet, cautious sort of way, and perhaps puts too much stock in being noble (it’s rarely a world where being noble puts you on top). When he finds himself a hero, he’s often blind to their flaws, another drawback to his own guilelessness. He is a bad liar and a good friend, unerringly loyal.

But he inherited from his father a wanderlust that he can’t quite shake. He spent too long on the beaches of his youth, dreaming of seeing the world, but as he grows older he wonders if he’ll ever be content to call a place home again. It’s this that gives a dark edge to his dreaming, plus a guilt he carries for his inability to save his twin in all the ways she (in his eyes) required rescuing. He could never see that she never wanted a rescuer, that not everyone longs for a knight or a hero.

Optimism and restlessness, given to fancy and and tall tales, Asterion goes through life like a boy on an endless quest. He’s just not sure what he’s looking for.

Positive: Hopeful, Loyal, Quick to Make Friends, Trusting, Gentle, Thoughtful
Negative: Directionless, Gullible, Self-Doubting, Shy, Foolish
Asterion was born to a grim wanderer of a father and a wild dreamer of a mother and raised in a quiet inlet along a northern sea. His father left before he could remember anything of him but his color, a vibrant red, and though he begged for stories his mother would typically only smile, and look to sea, and say very little.

He also is a twin, and his golden sister is the source of the bulk of his fears and his failures. For all they shared, there in the quiet darkness of their mother, he ought to have known her better. Ought to have saved her (she did not want saving, but he could never see that; Asterion’s head has ever been full of heroes and dreams). Perhaps his twin, Talia, had more of their father than Asterion did, for she was quick to leave. The soft wildness of their mother had hardened in her.

It became something else in him, his head full of wanderlust and star stuff, tales of white knights and their heroic deeds. When he was ready he left home, longing for sights other than a quiet, safe beach, longing for adventures with villains other than seagulls and crabs.

He found his adventures in a place called Ravos, a place of gods and wild magic and something shifting beneath the surface. He also found his twin - found her and lost her again. Perhaps the most important thing he found was a unicorn, the last of her kind, and she was the hero he’d always imagined: bold and deadly, passionate and fearless. In her passion he found purpose; she was going to teach him to fight, to become the hero he’d dreamed of being - to become worthy of her, so different and so like his twin.

Asterion was on his way to her when she left, leaping into a rift that godless, wild magic had created - one that lead to death or the unknown. For a long time, he did not follow; he was too new for adventure, too shy for glory. But the lands dwindled and began to fade until if he stayed he would be the only one left. In the end, his fear of death (or whatever lay in that terrible ripple of fierce magic) was less than his fear of being alone, and so he leapt, his heart in his throat, his hope that wherever he landed, she would be there.

But the lawless, hungry magic left him in Novus, and alone.
Active & Parvus Magic





Passive Magic





Bonded





Armor, Outfit, and Accessories




Agora Items & Awards



(View All Items)




Miscellaneous

Current HTML is courtesy from the wonderful Kaons' thread here: http://novus-rpg.net/showthread.php?tid=216 And image is courtesy the wonderful Roo!


The Player

▶ Player Name: Griffin (Profile)
▶ PM Player: Send Message
▶ Email: Send Email
▶ Other Accounts: griffin, Acton, Cazadora, Lysander,
friend to many dogs.


  


RPG-D