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#14259843 Dec 03, 2019 at 10:08 AM · Edited 2 years ago
8 Posts

Full Name: Leng wu
Nicknames: Leng

Primary Class: Ebonsong
“Must have” skill trees: Archery

Race: Haranhi / Asian
Gender: Male
Age: 22
Hair: Black
Skin: Average asian skin tone
Eyes: Black/Dark brown


Place of Residence: Perinoor ruins, Small hut
Place of Birth: Caernord

Relatives: Leng clan (???)
Enemies: Nuians
Allies: Haranhi probably

Occupation: Writer (poet), Rice farmer
Tradeskills: Farmer, Fisher

Appearance: Average in looks in almost every regard sporting the most common shade of black Leng is an unremarkable person in every regard, aside from the lack of wrinkles (of which in this land are rare anyways) you’d not find him strange in a crowd. Due to spending some time every week on skin care moisturising and bathing in general he tries to keep up appearances, even if they cost a lot to maintain. He can normally be seen looking around for someone to talk to or something to do.

Fashion of Choice: Robes and long pants are Leng’s garment of choice, comfort is important and his clothes are normally worn slightly large.
Armor of Choice: When Leng wears armor it is leather, sporting a balance between magic and physical defense as well as helping his style of choice, archery, he finds that it’s an ideal thing to wear to combat if he finds himself in such a situation. Although not as easy to wash as cloth armor he finds that it’s still easier than the bulkier plate which tends to rust easier. At times Leng must swim as well, as leather doesn’t soak water as easily as cloth nor weigh as much as plate it fits his purposes well. (of course he could just take it off or use a boat but it’s more convenient to just wear it)
Weapons of Choice: On his side as a side weapon Leng typically carries a dagger in his left and a beating stick on his right, for most situations however he finds himself using the bow. While not ideal for melee situations his skill with the bow tends to leave him in a better position than his skills with a dagger, the dagger being something he has only had the lightest of training in. The beating stick however, a scepter given to him by a relative, is a bit more intuitive to use.

Special Talents: Leng has a habit of talking in poetic verse, however that comes with the downside of appearing when he is tired and unable to think straight, it also comes when he is drunk. Leng has managed to write a bit of poetry to help stave off hunger when the economy is down however, living in a ruinous area he does not need to worry about rent as much anymore.


In the years leading up to the current state of affairs Leng has gone through a matter of things, while not as traumatic or as stressful as others who take on the path of adventuring Leng has found happiness in just wandering, it helps him think and at times stop thinking. As a child Leng would be seen as a curious boy, sporting a far shorter hair style than the ponytail kind of thing he has now he would often be seen sitting on the banks of the waterways, looking down at any fish or boat which may pass (of which seldom appeared). Growing up in an averagely loving home Leng was seen as a cutely forgettable person, however as time went on, it soon became apparent that he was merely just unable to keep his attention steadfast for long periods of time. With that information however, his lack of attention towards things as well as an inability to retain it, Leng could not fulfill his parent’s wishes of him. Wanting him to be a scholarly man, one which could become a government official or otherwise, his parents wanted a path which he could not, or more accurately, would not, take.
While Leng could not excel in any one category of knowledge like his parents would want Leng would still try to fulfill it in another way, through his learning of the eastern language as well as philosophy of the world, Leng worked towards poetry. Poetry at the time, and even now, was viewed by many around him as a scholarly hobby, as such Leng found no wrong in pursuing said extents whole heartedly. While trying to be a filial son as well as walking upon a different, but parallel, path to his parent’s wishes years passed.
Things would not go on happily forever, perhaps on an ill stepped path Leng ended up getting robbed in an alley one day, along with this misfortune he was shamed by some peers of his. While not a scholar by any common definition Leng had still managed to become a notable figure in some circles, while not notable enough to change anything, he was known enough to make some enemies… if you could call it that.
The night before that fateful day when he was robbed Leng had managed to catch the eyes of a young and upcoming noble, in the worst way however said young masters ire was apparent. While not silenced and crippled like the stories Leng would read his position in the poetic sphere of caernord was a stepping stone for the noble youth. With that a scandalous article was written of his escapades, none of which proved to be true.
While no evidence was given of the scandals the press was hot on the uptake, the hottest of which was an upcoming press with need for attention, with that Leng was shamed. In an attempt to acquire some renowned and any honor left to his name Leng ended asking for some favors from those he had helped in the past. Alas even with his (megar) connections Leng could not pull himself back to where he once was, any chance of himself making a living in caernord was now down the drain. Any attempt at refuting the rumors past or making a standing now were swiftly silenced by the press.
Now where was the noble in which he offended you ask? He was in a seat of power in an up and coming news agency, while his words were not reliable he was able to pull the strings to keep himself high up. To keep himself high up however more people like Leng were disparaged and pushed out.
By the time in which our story starts Leng had long moved out of caernord, moving to the ruins half a continent away in an attempt to avoid the ridicule (of which was dying out, however slow), Leng fled. While not the most noble, nor the most brave route of action Leng simply could not fight the press, and more importantly those in power.
Building up a small hut on the outskirts of the ruins in perinoor Leng had found the tax relatively light, and the scenery is pleasant. Asides from all the ghosts and beast running around it was an idyllic life. For what he ate, he could hunt; for what he wanted, he could get from wandering traders. For when he missed home he could wander back towards caernord, although not able to live there attachments to his family and those he cared for lingered.
Disaster struck one day in the middle of a winter storm, while perinoor is not as northward as other parts of the continent it still got quite chilly in some parts of the year. Not being close to any large towns it was hard for him to access medical care. Working on the go however at the time was risky… to say the least. There was no guarantee that his crops would stay safe after a large treck, even more so there was no guarantee that he would find safe passage to neighboring settlements. As such he worked on, to the point of exhaustion and sickness.
There’s a saying, to “dig a well before you are thirsty” Leng did not, by delaying his trip and hoping for the best he was tasked by the heavens themselves to weather out. Leng still had medicine from his family, however, his mother and father although poor in caernord standards were able to afford the very basic medicines. While not brand named they often bought medicines second hand from a family friend. Apprehensive to use the medicine however, not due to worry of poison or mislabeling but instead of the expiration date, Leng bit the bullet.
It is unknown if he would have survived without the medicine but he seemingly pushed through, with a fever and sickness Leng in a fever dream saw another life. Similar to his own, of a life of struggle. The dream self of his lived a life, happy but at times tense, difficult but fulfilling. However a dream is only a dream and even his happiness would disappear.
Waking up in a cold sweat Leng was elated by his survival, however at the same time he wished to go back to his life in the land of fantasy. In the dream he was an outer circle disciple of the tang sect, a group of those proficient in secret weapons and in general poison and other things of that nature. In the dream he made many friends, some of which he would never forget.
Spending a life in a dream it caused Leng to ponder, was his life not just a fever dream? In this state of thought Leng felt a great emptiness, nothing was everlasting and even the strongest bonds will soon fade. While giving him an appreciation of the present Leng would never be the same.
At times Leng would fall back into the state of his past, a dream like character which he both was and yet could never become. A lifetime which felt more real than the current ever would, it was hard for Leng to be the one which was once here a few nights past…
With a love for poisons now instilled in him, as well as knowledge picked up from books and the dream Leng started walking on the path of an archer bard. Too weak to fight close yet not fearful enough that he could not Leng donned a bow, a dagger, and a scepter.
At night or early in the morning before he was totally awake Leng would wander, trying to find anything to anchor himself, anything to remind him of where he was. Seldom were his interaction with his family, bless their souls, seldom were meaningful interactions with anyone of the like. To what did Leng live for? Now that a reality, his reality, was shattered? That … he has not yet found.
For now however we find Leng in a state in which he keeps his family visits short, hiding the fact that he was not the same person he once was, while a hallucination, or perhaps a true other life, Leng no longer felt like he belonged. A sense of familiarity, mixed with a sense of alienation to this new, old, world made him drift…
By Leng’s side are his two animal companions, his elk, which he calls “elk” and his cat, which he calls “my horse”, a reference to what he heard a few minutes prior to meeting the feline. The cat's namesake was attributed to man never got his horse back.
Where will Leng go from now on? In what does he still dream? That will all be answered in summers night dream~


>Pre Fever Dream: True neutral / Neutral
>Post Fever Dream: Chaotic neutral / Chaotic good
>To find the reason for continuing
>To find something to hold onto
>To find any trace of the life he had in that dream
>It’s hard to remember things, I should see everything so that what I remember is meaningful
>It’s hard to relate to people but I should try to remember where I am
>I’d rather not be shackled by society, a simple life fits me better
>Apathetic yet at the same time curious
>Prior Fever Dream: Atheist
>Post Fever Dream: Atheist mixed with Daoist Philosophy


Positive Personality Traits:
Negative Personality Traits:
>Overly energetic
>Delusional (??)
>Pre dream: Paranoid of society
>Post dream: Paranoid of backstabbers
Misc. Quirks:
>Talks in prose at times
>Post fever dream: Changes between 3 “states” of consciousness.
>Morning: Extremely happy and energetic, wanderlust
>Mid day: Calmer and more “normal” and collected than the other two states
>Night: Poetic and strange, poker faced yet teasing. Not very serious.

>People being behind him
>Crowded spaces
>Melee confrontation
Favorite Foods:
>Rice and eggs
Favorite Drinks:
>The weird keg and bottles he finds on the shore (poison resistance ??)
Favorite Colors:
>Navy blue

>Self care
#14278837 Jan 02, 2020 at 09:44 AM
8 Posts

Lengs journal ^ (all 3 ... at the same time)
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