Truehand

[&]Name/Alias:Jacob
[&]Age:21
[&]Experience:Only tagging along, mostly in middle school. Haven't done any in a while.
[&]How You Found Us?:Meatspace knowledge of the founder
[&]Member Title: Artisan/Trapper


[&]Full Name:Truehand
[&]Soul Name: Dyel (known only to himself)
[&]Tribe:Wolfrider
[&]Age:Young Adult
[&]Gender:Male
[&]Status: dead, killed by trolls in Newgreen 111 A.S.

[&]List Of Personality:
- Playful and given to teasing
- Insufferably "helpful", nosy
- Irreverent to tradition/magic
- Somewhat lazy/home-bodied (holt-bodied?)

[&]Skills other than Sending?:
- Trapping: Very high
- Tracking: Above average
- Plant Lore: Very high
- Metalworking: Unusually high for an elf (still cannot smelt himself, though)
- Hunting: Poor
- Melee Combat: Poor, but resourceful

[&]Likes/Dislikes:
Likes: - Furs
- Thinking
- Dreamberry wine (yes, its a preference issue)

Dislikes: - Arbitrary rules
- Cold temperatures
- Work

[&]Family: Lovemated to Leafpath
Mother: Moonrise, supportive, but invalid
Father: Shade, disapproving but protective

[&]History: The child of Shade and Moonrise, the young cub instantly showed a propensity for finding creative ways to worm out of punishments, usually inflicted for violations of curfew and slipping out of view to wander unobserved in the wood.

Through most of his life, his mother has been ill with a sickness too deep to be healed by the fleshshaping magic of elven healers, possibly owing to her having been born outside of Recognition. His father having been gone to hunt much of the time, he had to learn denkeeping and basic medicinal lore at a time most of the youths were roughhousing, mock-hunting and learning the warrior trades of their parents. Though not anti-social by any means, this has made him a rather poor fighter and more at home within the trees than among them, as it were...

His distaste in the failure of magic to cure his mother has engendered a disrespect of magic and the traditions associated with reliance upon "natural ways". His father found himself raising a very unusual Wolfrider as he came back evening after evening to find his cub wasting time and effort, burning and cutting his hands and fingers time and again, to find ways to "reinvent the wheel" (though he would have no way of knowing what that was, I suppose), but without reliance upon magic or trade with the trolls.

His mother delights in the potential his determination holds, but his father cannot entirely swallow disapproval at his son having turned his back upon the hunt for such seemingly useless pursuits. One cannot eat potential... but Moonrise is not the only who has ideas of where a fostering of his gifts might lead...

[&]Often seen wearing: Wardrobe consists largely of blacks, browns and golds with the occasional deep red, usually on a single accessory. Attire tends to be unseasonably warm and almost always involves a cloak or fur of some type about his shoulders. A fan of bracelets and arm bangles, he most definitely does not dress to fight in most cases, but is not excessively loud, either.

[&]Hair:Dark Brown

[&]Eyes: Light blue

[&]Picture: See avatar. Request for full-length portrait.

[&]Bonded animal: Burrback is thusly named because his elfriend's tendency to stay in the holt has left him as unused to navigating the brush as he is, causing him to forget to groom as often as he should. Nevertheless, he is very protective of his bondmate and probably more competent a fighter than Truehand.

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