User:Oreste
| This page describes a character who is dead or retired from Hollow. |
| This Page has been marked as a Character Profile. |
Oreste Antonini
Class: Dragoon -> a cross between Ranger and Knight
Alignment: Neutral Chaotic
Race: 100% Human
Age: 20
Features: Olive-tinted skin, short dark hair, brown eyes, average height, fairly slim
Soul: Closely resembles a snake
Personality Traits: Arrogant, ambitious, deceptive, condescending to many, manipulative, excellent negotiator, womanizer, does not enter combat unless beneficial to him, prone to betrayal, very friendly (especially to women and children, not fond of drows, tolerable of the undead, thinks most other nonhumans and nonelves are funny, aspires to a position of great authority
Combat prowess: Incredible reflexes, ample horseman, average swordsman (but reflexes exaggerate his skill), average archery skill, cannot use magic very effectively, has a difficult time avoiding most magical attacks, physical attack has great effect on him (but are usually dodged), resourceful
Battle attire: Currently fights with a longbow and broadsword, wears flexible lightweight scale armor, rides a horse named Trevor, uses bodkin arrows for puncturing heavily armored opponents and broad tipped arrows for maximum damage against all others
Trevor:
Breed: Destrier (a knight's horse)
Appearance: Chestnut coat, about 6'6", heavy, powerful legs, long black mane and tail, wears bridle with leather reins, no saddle
Disposition: Loyal, perceptive, calm, quiet
Mirshann waited by the sage forest bell, seemingly chatting with a chipmunk or two.
Oreste approaches Mirshann atop the destrier, Trevor, and deftly slides off, his soft leather riding boots thump thumping onto the trail blazed through the forest bell. With several cautious, purposeful steps, he nears the druidess and asks, "So, what do you have in store for me?"
Mirshann would chuckle softly as her conversations came to an end with the furry little creatures, as they scampered off back into the forest. Rhez, the ever changing chemeleon sat atop her shoulder at brilliant hue of green. With a faint flick of her hand, two root made chairs sprang up for them to sit upon. "I have in store a world of agonizing pain..." she snickered madly at the jest. "Really, I must know if you will trust me enough to do this for you before anything is to be answered." she stated matter of factly.
Oreste gingerly treads across the beaten trail toward the fresh root chair. His backside drops onto it, planting itself firmly against the splintered wood. Leaning forward in his seat, propping his cleanly-shaven chin atop his calloused hands, as he speaks, his words flowing sweetly and fluidly from his lips, "I sat on your seat. Certainly that would show some trust, considering you could grasp hold of me and cause me great suffering. But I also know that Varuna would be very displeased if something were to happen to her adviser." His amber gaze rises to meet hers as he concludes, "So bear that in mind."
Mirshann chuckles quietly as she herself allowed herself to fall gracefully into the matching chair. Soft delicate fingers smoothed out her clothing as she looked him square in the eye. "Well, you have a mighty forked tongue." She was a bit offended at his slight attitude towards her. She was after all Varuna's niece, and not stupid enough to harm an advisor. None the less the druidess affixes her attention to the matter at hand. "I can already tell you what I personally feel." she phrased back to his direction, a snake coming to coil about her leg like some sort of jewlery, several more coming to rest at the other appendages. She glanced him thrice over, taking into consideration the tales she has heard. Those amber irises enough to confirm her next statement, should he lend his ear.
Oreste snickers slightly, as a wry grin slowly creeps across his pleasing features. Somewhat amused, he inquires with much vested interest, "What do you think, Wynter? How do you personally feel?"
Mirshann 's eyes slunk to a supspicious hue of amber, matching that of his own. "Serpent...your tongue is as sharp as one, your soul is sly, and your spirit is as free as they are." She stated matter of factly. "I personally feel Varuna has chosen well in hiring you...for such reasons." The girl looked perplexed for a moments time as she seemed to stare into him, rather than at him. "Though I am not quite sure if you are as dark as you wish others to see you. Tis quite troubling to me Oreste."
Oreste chuckles at the remark, as tiny dimples are etched at the corners of his pinkish mouth. Still smiling, he declares calmly, "I'm afraid there is likely more truth to the contrary. I am more dark than I want others to know about. But I'm not sure why that would trouble you."
Mirshann said to Oreste, "I am druid darling...everything troubles me."
Oreste said to Mirshann, "Would that keep you from helping me? Do you think I should be turned into a serpent?"
Mirshann chuckled once again. "Absolutely not...I will make you whatever you wish. Though a promise must be kept or you will return back to your form you are now." she frankly quoted, those serpents about her limbs coiling down and towards Oreste. "Vow to me and the creatures that you will not cause harm to a child, or another while on your journey." she lent forward as she spoke, lifting herself from her chair, the object crumbling as she became full erect. The druidess of only eighteen took on a serious emotional expression, one which would cause the female to look rather spiteful and cruel.
Oreste leans back instinctively, cautiously attempting to create more distance between him and the snakes slithering towards him. Pressing his back against the back of the flexible chair, he says coldly, "Can't it be just no harming women and children? Certainly a snake would lash out when threatened." A half-grin tugs upward on the side of his lips as he speaks.
Mirshann smirked at him then, the woman becoming rather excited at the fact that she was intimidating. However, she took into consideration his words. "You will do as a serpent would by nature, but harm a child or a woman, and certainly you will be purged of what you will recieve. Is that clear?" she mused flatly.
Oreste smirks back, and nods slowly, his dull dragon skull helm shifting with the motion. He reaches a bare hand up to idly adjust the ominous helm and delivers his emotionless answer, "Agreed." He looks up into the bright blue sky then back to the druidess. "What do I need to do?" he asks calmly, surprisingly serene for such an occasion.
Mirshann said to Oreste, "You needn't do anything...save come see me this evening. I will have what you need."
- Later*****
Oreste walks up, his arm at a right angle as his hand guides Trevor by the bridle. The horse lets out a soft winny as Oreste approaches the druidess. He releases the bridle, and takes several more cautious paces toward her.
Mirshann was waiting, lent against a smaller tree somewhere in the shade. Trevor's apparent winny would announce both beast and master's arrival. "There is no need to be so cautious my friend." she spoke gently, the smile upon her features enough to calm him. She was in a far better mood than that of last eve. "Are you ready?"
Oreste smirks, as his deep brown eyes brighten at her words. "Yes, I'm ready," he nods slowly, "Ready as ever."
Mirshann eyed Trevor a moment, as if asking silently who would watch over the beast during his masters endevors. However, Wynter would meet Oreste halfway on the broken pathway. Through her pockets she would shuffle, until said item was found. Pulling free the tiny glass vile, she uncorked the object, an awful smell of snake venom and herbs wafted free. Most likely it would taste as equally disgusting, but it would be worth it all. "All of it.." she commanded as she handed him the vile.
Oreste reaches for the tiny vial, and gingerly takes hold of it, pressing his index finger and thumb against its outsides. Dangling it at arm's length, as though made from thoroughly toxic chemicals, the dragoon makes his way over towards his chestnut-furred destrier. He rises to his toes and tilts his head upwards to whisper something inaudible into Trevor's perky ear. The horse violently shakes its head back and forth, almost as if it were disagreeing, but Oreste continues anyway. In one swift, motion, giving himself no time for second thoughts, he pulls to icy bottle to the base of his lips, and practically tosses the contents down his throat. Immediately feeling strangely, Oreste stumbles forward slightly, helplessly dropping the vial to the ground. The glass shatters upon impact, as Trevor abruptly gallops away, frightened by the crash.
Mirshann 's stare was a wicked one, the glass shattered upon the ground like someone's broken dream. Irises shifted and melded into many colours as she watched him. She didn't mean to look so cruel, or violent, but it was the way it were when her magics worked. She would watch curiously, wait for it. wait for him to slip to the ground like a rotten sack of forgotten potateos. Trevor was ignored as he ran past her. "Remember your promise..." she said into his almost non hearing ears, once of course he was rendered helpless altogether. She could smell the venom coursing in his veins, the herbs pouring from his seams. All that was left to do now, was wait.
Oreste convulses violently as he crumples to the earth, his face uplifted to scream in pain at the sky. His head is the last part of his body to collapse, as slowly, his typically smooth skin begins drying up and hardening. Scales emerge gradually, first flesh-colored, then fading to a dark, deep green hue. His eyes undergo a transformation as well, as his pupils narrow to tiny slits, as his entire body seems to shrink. His changing figure retracts slowly until he is completely encased in his armor; none of his appendages able to be seen. A few moments go by before a dark snake slithers out from the armhole in the armor, undulating gracefully as it surveys its new environment.
Mirshann would catch him best she could, supporting his head as not to allow him to smash it against the earth. She would grin wickedly to the passing clouds above, seemingly lost in the though of something else. his skin would firm beneath her gentle, almost obessed strokes until his form would vanish from her grasp altogther. Left with nothing more than a pile of men's clothing in her lap, she smirks as the serpent emerges. Softly, she would whisper, for serpent ears were most sensitive to loud noises. "Is it what you expected?" she asked in the language of the serpent, Oreste being able to understand such now in this form.
Oreste attempts to speak the human way we is used to, completely inexperienced with his new body form. Repeatedly pressing his skinny tongue to the roof of his fang-filled mouth, he tries to force out a favorable reply, but to no avail. He is a mute for now.
Mirshann would fold and pile his clothing neatly, stuffing them into her satchle for safe keeping. Carefully plucking him from teh earthen surface, she would hold him in her palms. Gentle was her touch as she searched for imperfections in her work, finding none, she would set him back down. "You have two days..." she remarked before standing, careful not to trample over him. "Use your time well." she offered in the serpentine language again before vanishing into the forest.
Oreste's History Before Hollow:
Oreste was an orphan, growing up alongside other orphans from his land in a church. He had a dream, to become a great knight, so he trained himself daily with all his strength to become ready for when the knights asked for squire applicants.
That day arrived, and Tindaro, the most famous knight at the time, decided instead of retiring to a lordly lifestyle, he would take on one final squire to teach his trade to. His attention came to the young orphan Oreste, whose dedication was most impressive. The boy was chosen as Tindaro's newest squire, and the knight began his teaching.
Oreste quickly discovered that not only was his master involved in many physical conflicts; he was also deeply embedded in the internal politics of the land. The boy was uncertain of what exactly was going on behind the scenes, but he quickly learned from example how to manipulate others to do your will, as well as his dogma of the "end always justifying the means."
Over a few years, Oreste developed into an adequate swordsman, competent at a knight's level much earlier than his peers. In addition, the boy learned to ride horses into a battle. However, he was not very resilient to physical damage. Due to this weakness, he developed extraordinary reflexes, fueled by his desire not to get hit.
In the meantime, Tindaro had become unhappy with the current rule of the land, and stirred up a rebellion of sorts. It did not last, since spies within his most trusted allies betrayed Tindaro and Oreste. The traitors attacked both at the same time, and slain Tindaro. The younger and faster Oreste evaded the attacks and leaped onto Tindaro's steed, Trevor, and took off.
Oreste's Years With The Rangers:
The traitors pursued the boy and chased him until they reached the outskirts of Hollow. Oreste made his way through Hollow and found his way into Sage Forest. There, the rangers took him and began training him to become one of them.
Oreste spent several years with the rangers of the wood, always besting them with the sword, but with bowmanship, he was quite average. He also learned some weak spells, but they were unable to teach him more due to a magical deficiency. In addition to that, the boy became somewhat attuned to nature, but not to the extent of the other rangers.
When Oreste turned 20, the rangers decided that they could help him no more, and turned him loose into the world on his own. As of now, he is looking for a strong knightly teacher to fill the hole in which Tindaro left, and take his swordsmanship into brilliant status. With this expertise, he strives to achieve a position of great authority, so that his feelings of arrogance and self-importance will be vindicated.