Briske Belhand, Augured Adventurer

Name: Briske Belhand

Race: Hylian

Age: 22

Gender: Male

Place of Origin: Nabooru

PWC: 3/1/3

Treasures and Rupees: 30r

Hero's Legacy (Racial Perk)
Magic Proficiency (Racial Perk)
Rupee Riches (Racial Perk)
Gift of Prophecy (-40r Magic Proficiency, -15r)
Helm Splitter (-15r)
Peril Beam (-15r)
Power Beam (-25r)
Specialty: WeaponBase (-20r)
Straight Shooting (-10r)

Equipment:

Hylian Flambard: Though perhaps a bit strange in its appearance, this wavy steel bastard sword has become Briske's go-to for melee ordeals. Whether it's fending off encroaching wolfos or protecting Noobooru-based caravans from bandits, Briske favors the weightier make of the blade, utilizing the blade's bizarre shape and extra length as a means of disrupting his would-be attackers.

Ranger's Bow & Quiver: Carved lovingly from a young tree just outside of Nabooru, Briske has had this recurve bow for almost a decade, caring for it as well as a kindly child would care for their beloved dog. Though somewhat small, the supple wood from which it was crafted bears remarkable tensile strength, and when coupled alongside Briske's own brawn allows for a delicate but powerful draw. A set of six tick marks have been scratched into the wood near the sight, each one representing the slaying of some unfortunate monster who thought they'd make an easy meal out of him.

Appearance:

Briske doesn't carry quite the same refined charm that many of his Northern Hylian brethren possess, having much more in common with the rugged people of the South. Of modest height, Briske carries the sharp, angular features of his ancestors, with a short, pointed nose and elongated ears, but that's about where the similarities end. Sporting freckled, sun-kissed skin and a physique chiseled from a lifetime of grueling labor and martial exercise, it's clear as crystal that Briske is no lordling or pampered merchant's son. Though he stands at only a modest height, he carries himself with no small measure of pride, his back straight and his large, lucid blue eyes locked ever towards the horizon.

Though not very eye-catching, when out and about Briske favors practical garments of earthly hues. His outfit usually consists of a weather-stained white tunic, its sleeves rolled up past his elbows to provide that extra degree of freedom, with a cured leather chestpiece thrown over for added protection should he be expecting trouble. Tried-and-true rawhide chaps and slacks cover his legs, especially when any degree of horseback riding or woodwork is called for, and are almost always coupled with a pair of sturdy brown work boots, caked in mud and dirt from extensive use. No ensemble is complete without an accessory, though, and for Briske, that accessory comes in the form of a tattered, well-worn red scarf; breezy and light enough to breath in, yet thick enough to ward away dust and dirt should the need arise when he must cover his face.

Straddled across his back when danger is a real possibility, Briske carries his trusty flambard and bow and a crisscross manner for ease-of-reach, his handy-dandy quiver affixed to his belt and located near his waist.

Personality:

A humble soul as loyal as the rising sun, Briske is a georgic, pragmatically down-to-earth fellow who's been tempered by a life of hard labor. Though not an unfriendly sort, the rustic-born young man isn't exactly the most talkative sort; not because he has nothing to say, but rather, that he's unaccustomed to the need for so much yakking when there's work to be done. When he does speak, however, he does so with great congeniality, his slow, almost melodic country drawl as distinguishing a hallmark of his heritage as it is of his hospitality: warm and open, but also brusque and devoid of flowery verbatim.

For someone often plagued by visions of doom and dismay, Briske is surprisingly self-confident and upbeat, as apt to display a gentle smile on his lips as he is to take charge and shake your hand. Indeed, Briske was raised to be respectful, treating others with dignity and fairness; never asking someone to do something for him if he could perform the task himself, let alone attempt to connive them into doing so. When asked for help, it would be shocking to hear Briske ask for some type of reward or compensation -- save, perhaps, a meal and a place to sleep. Likewise, he's not one to turn down a gift, nor the hospitality offered unto him, lest he risk inadvertently offending his hosts.

But for all his swagger, confidence, and stoicly sunny contenance, there is another side to him; a mask which Briske only wears in his most lonesome, personal moments. The truth of the matter is that Briske is scared; scared of the visions he's seen, scared of those he hasn't yet seen, and even more than that, scared of what might happen should they come to pass. There are times where he doubts, when he feels like the world is bearing down on his shoulders, and there's no one there to help him with his burden.

Background:

"I had a bad dream, pa," a young Briske once told his father on a warm, moonless night in Nabooru. "It was a town, I think. It was full of fire, and darkness, and... and scary things! There were people, too, but they didn't say nothin'. They were tryin', but they just couldn't..."

Briske, on the verge of tears, felt his father's burly hand come to rest on his shoulder as he knelt beside him. "It's just a dream, kiddo. A nightmare. It ain't real. Promise," the woodsman consoled, granting his young scion a comforting smile. "Now go on back to bed, boy, 'fore yer' ma tans yer hide."

Yet the dream persisted. Night after night, each vision became more vivid and intense. At first, Briske's parents thought the boy might have developed some sort of condition; that he'd somehow become tetched in the head, and was losing his grip on reality. But in his waking hours Briske seemed perfectly fine, albeit insisting that what he saw had to be real. Of course his parents thought the idea ludicrous, often attempting to dissuade him from dwelling on the matter, or citing it as childish fantasy.

Then, on a day that would change the world forever, Ganon arrived, and with him came a villainous mein unseen by anyone before or since. In one fell swoop, the engimatic King of Evil razed Kakariko Village to the ground, delivering a devastating first strike that crippled Southern Hyrule amidst his opening gambit against the lands of Hyrule. With that dire turn of events, two things became apparent: Hyrule's golden age of peace and prosperity had come to an end, and that Briske's parents realized their son had seen it coming. In that moment, they made Briske swear not to speak any further of his prognostications, fearful of what might befall their boy should others learn of his talent.

Briske, true to his word, strove to keep silent about his dream-like divinations at his parents' behest. Rightly so, too, given the hurried and panicked air that soon beset his home in the wake of Ganon's initial assault. People were scared, as was Briske, as the hardy woodland folk began to martial themselves against the shadow overlooking their lands in anticipation for the day the King of Evil would extend his reach. As time trekked forward, young Briske tried to busy himself, aiding Nabooru in whatever ways he could muster. Chopping wood, carving arrows and spears, anything he could contribute, he did so; and anything to keep his mind preoccupied away from his dreams. But for all his endeavors, Briske still received those fleeting flashes with which to gaze into the darkened world of tomorrow; a haunting reminder that no matter how hard he wished it, no matter how hard he strove to push it away, he would never be free of the cryptic clairvoyant terrors that followed him.

Life went on, and under the terrifying gaze of Death Mountain and Ganon's monstrous inhabitants, Briske followed in his father's footsteps as a mountaineer and woodsman, learning the craft that had been passed down from generation to generation. While Briske might have been a handy lumberjack in his own right, it was his exemplary dedication to the Nabooru Militia that truly set him apart from his kin. Where the woods and wilds were the domain his father had conquered, it was the sword and bow in which his scion excelled; a trait that equally surprised Briske himself, who resolved himself to his newfound knack with fervent zeal so that when Ganon made his move the boy might be ready to do his part.

That day never came. Though Nabooru was beset on all sides by foul beasties and monstrous foes, the King of Evil made no play to usurp the bucolic village by force. No vision of their downfall came to Briske; no harrowing insight nor auguristic boon. Instead, for more than a decade, all Nabooru received was an eerie stillness for all their preperation. It was as if the war had just come to a full stop. People began to forget, to move on, to let go. For Briske, this meant a reprieve of fear, at least momentarily, as Nabooru fell into its old familiar routines -- a sensation that the young Hylian had greatly missed.

Things changed though when a Business Scrub by the name of Fizzleleaf showed up in Nabooru, claiming that there were rupees to be made in the near future. Though Briske initially held no interest in the shrub's claim himself, it was his father who took the time to listen, keen on broadening the fortunes of his family. Fizzleleaf spoke of his plan at great length, citing the varitable treasure trove of lumber at Nabooru's disposal, and how rumor had it the King of Hyrule was planning on building a massive fleet in the newly minted city of Impa. All the scrub needed was a leg up to get started. Briske, initially disinclined to hear snake oil salesman out, only had a change of heart after his father agreed to vouch for the leafy businessman -- and boy was Briske glad he had!

Sure as the sun, Fizzleleaf was right on the money. Briske, alongside his father, turned out a tidy sum through their humble lumberjacking origins over the next two years under the management of the canny Business Scrub. By employing many of the Gorons displaced from their home in Death Mountain and capitalizing on the expansive, mountainous treeline, things were looking good for everyone in Nabooru. With the clarion call to retake Southern Hyrule, this simple demand for lumber was finally putting an end to the decade-long stagnation that had taken root in their home, with Briske taking the reins as an impromptu guard in order to ensure the safe passage of the increasingly frequent Nabooru-based caravans to the distant port-city of Impa.

But for Briske, the good times weren't meant to last. Once more the visions returned, as cryptic and convuluted as ever, and although the young woodsmen couldn't make much sense of them, he deduced this much: they hailed doom, wrought by an icy fire unknown origins, with Briske at the forefront of the destruction. He tried to tell his parents, despite his vow not to do so, but they wouldn't hear of it. It wasn't the first time he'd cried wolf in recent years, and each time it had been something utterly innocuous. But this time was different -- Briske knew it! He could feel it.

Thus would begin a series of events that would thrust Briske into a life of danger, mystery and, above all, a desire for answers. What did it all mean? Why was Briske beset by these visions? But more than anything, all Briske wanted to know was this: how was he involved in this nightmarish glimpse into what might be, and how could it be stopped?

Agendas, Goals, and Hooks:

Briske is a character defined by his prophetic visions, and seeks to uncover the truth regarding his latest (and most disturbing) glimpses into the future. My overall goal with this character is twofold: firstly, to get integrated into the world of Hyrule Castle, learning the ins-and-outs as I roleplay here with other fine folks and develop Briske along the way through reactions to various situations. Secondly, and perhaps somewhat selfishly, I'm hoping to have him complete at least one super-dungeon in the character's lifetime. A tall order to be sure, but one I think would be fun to work towards.

As much as his psychic visitations are a hook for Briske, DMs/GMs should feel encouraged to use it as a hook themselves should they so desire. You have my explicit permission to do so -- even during combat! -- whenever it feels appropriate, utilizing it either as a way to move towards a specific thing or, perhaps, simply to add a measure of spice to whatever shenanigans Briske might be involved in at the time.

Wishlist (Top 10):

In no particular order, and subject to change via character development:

Magic Power 1
Mount: Draft Horse
Navigation
Profession++
Quick Draw
Sense
Song of Soaring (Major Treasure)
Spin Attack
Wall-Scaling
Wind Enchantment