Srius Ashern WrightName:
I go by many, most of which spoken with obscenities and anger. I'm quite popular as you can see. Though around close friends and family members I go by Ash Wright or Ashern Wright, and in times of panic Ashern or Ash. You know how it is everyone wants to chop up your name as they please, cluster of idiots all of em.Nickname
People call me Sirius but often only because I lie often and tell them that it is my name. In my defense how in the bloody hell is one supposed to intimidate others with a dainty name like Ashern anyhow. "Run for your lives Ashern is coming!"
I think not. So yes when you hear Sirius Wright is ransacking in a village near you. Don't walk in a fashionable straight line, run.Age:
Twenty-eight give or take you nosy twit.Gender:
By the thing I dangle between my legs. I'd go with male.Genetics/Race:
I am one-sixteenth giant believe it or not, but seeing as that only makes me a foot or two taller then the average man I tend to tell everyone I'm human. Unfortunately I don't share their innate stamina, perhaps slightly more then a average human but that's it.Primary:
I am a damn handsome individual if I say so myself, which I do. I weigh in at approximately One hundred and two Kilograms and nine hundred sixty-five thousand Four hundred sixty-eight millionths of a kilogram. As for my height I'm two meters and twenty-one hundredths of a meter tall. Though lets just save you ink and call it two hundred and twenty-four pounds and Seven foot three inches.
My hair is a charcoal black color and I wear it short, not long and feminine like some of the gender confused Elven fellows that I know. My facial features are chiseled and rugged, I think that I owe it all to my father. I grew my first chin stubble at age of fourteen and its kept growing since. I have a rather full beard with a integrated mustache that I keep well maintained. Its short enough that someone can't pull me around by it but long enough to bristle the skin. As for my eyes, they are a lush forest green I often tell folks that they were from my mothers side but I wouldn't really know. They're deep and memorizing which distracts women from the scar crossing the bridge of my nose and just below my eyes. Yes I have scars, a lot of scars actually and all of them have their own tale.
The one across my face is from a close encounter with a one-breasted Amazon's spear. Above my brow is a gash from mercenaries arrow a time that was far to close for comfort. There's a large bite mark on my right leg from the jaw of a hungry shark that was to curious for its own good, dimwitted bastards those sharks. Running down the center of my chest is a long gash where the tip of an axe managed to nick me in battle. Several dozen gashes and cuts the outside of both arms from my harsh training under Burg as a child. Frankly if you think you can manage better against that stubby toed shaman bastard I more then dare you to try. As for previous injuries in my life I can sum it up in one word "many". Broken bones, dislocated joints, fractures and more. Honestly that is just covering my experiences as a child so lets skip over that.
I'm quite built, but it wasn't like I was born from the womb with a six pack and bulging muscles. I was hard trained in the Druidic Circle, also whats up with that name? why is it the Druidic circle and not the Druidic Rhombus or Hexagon? those sound much more interesting if you ask me. Anyway, I was trained personally by my adopted father The Great Shaman Burg
. It was always particularly funny that he would remind you to refer to him as "The Great"
Shaman Burg persistently. Dawavern napoleon complex's are always hilarious. I was under his instruction the exact day I could properly walk on two legs. His training was harsh even by military standards. A version of sparring that ended up with me being beaten down, running laps around the forest covered in honey and steak, climbing trees with both my feet and hands bound together or what ever idea of harsh happened to amuse Burg.Atire:
I made the very clothes I wear, not always mind you. But I crafted together this outfit since my child hood and I'm damn proud about it. Firstly there's the fur around my collar, yes real fur. What? didn't think druids skinned animals? I don't make it a constant habit myself but there was a situational occurrence where I had to kill a bear. Simple animals bears, though they have a over abundance of pride in their nature.History:
So who exactly is Sirius Wright? Well for starters I am the greatest Axe wielding Druid ever born with two legs. No, not the kind of Druid hugs trees and tells the rest of the world to recycle for the sake of the planet. Rather the kind that holds dirty conversations with wild animals and sprouts up clusters bear-eating plants among other things. Yes I would have to say I my antics are rather incredible, so lets get back getting to know more about me. I am a Human being but I was raised by a tribe of Elves as a lad. Perhaps I need to explain a bit more.
My blood father was a fearsome Warlord, you know the whole deal. His fathers father was half a giant making him one eighth of a giant. He was a big, mean, ugly bastard that killed innocents for a living. My mother was significantly different, small dainty... fully human. Her relationship with dear ole dad was something between being his slave and plaything. A prize from a previous battle, a kidnap with no ransom, or perhaps a princess missing from her castle. As you can see the details about her actual background are a bit fuzzy. Regardless of what ever intimacy
they had, I was born.
So how did I sudden end up living with elves? I was getting to that have some damn patience will ya. My birth mother escaped from my fathers castle and fled into woods with me in her arms. Days she traveled on bare feet into the Deep Forest until finally she couldn't walk anymore. In her last breathes she cradled me with her lifeless limp body. Not long after her passing a patrol of the Circles Druids discovered us. After burying my mothers body with respects, the Druids took me to their village.
Not knowing about these things as a child I never questioned my origins or why I was so much taller then the other children. To me the entire Druidic Circle was like large and perhaps dysfunctional family. They took me in and raised me on the spot. I had brothers and sisters coming out the ears and the Elders were my fathers and mothers. Perhaps a few of them were that grumpy uncle no one cared for as well. I was raised and taught there, things like math, language and all that muck. Sure I learned all of that stuff and I'm a better, more educated man because of it. Though honestly as a child I generally hated the school, I only enjoyed when an Observer visited the school house with tales of their travels in the outside world. For an outsider like yourself think of it as a far away cousin visiting for the first time in a long time with presents and outrages tales about faraway lands.
Then there was the training. My caretaker and keeper of course was Burg, a dwarf with a big heart. Not that you would figure that from his demeanor and actions, he was a rather dedicated believer in the teachings of tough love. It was under him that I learned everything that had prepared me for the harsh outside world. I may have mentioned the sparring sessions, endurance runs, and near impossible exercises. But he taught me more then that, he showed me how to survive on nuts and berries for a year even in winter conditions. He showed me what plants and animals were dangerous and how to handle them. I learned a lot from him and will forever remain indebted. He was the father figure in my life.
Which leads me to my Motherly figure, Aerlavia. So yes, I considered my father to be a Dwarf and a Elf to be my mother. Odd pairing right? While Burg taught me how to fight and survive in the wild Aerlavia taught me how to be a Druid. Not just the ability to harness and tap into natures life force but also the principles of keeping the balance. I learned how to speak with animals and flora life, absorb and manipulate sunlight among other things.