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Skills and Stats
Skills and Stats
player name: Yune Kyung Lee
STR: 14 nonweapon proficiencies: agriculture, disguise, forgery, read/write Chedraqis [alphabetic, not ideographic], read/write Bereshi, direction-sense, etiquette, rope use weapon proficiencies: jenachen dagger, hand crossbow, shortsword equipment: hand crossbow (issued by Qenaren military), brace of jenachen daggers, shortsword, writing materials, rope and grapnel, minor cosmetics funds: Bonuses from spy/reconnaissance missions keep her comfortable, if not overly wealthy. Sometimes the quartermaster hands her what she wants rather than dealing with her tongue!
Character DescriptionShe wears her hair (a dark brown) short but with long bangs. Tilting her head forward (which she does often) will hide most of her face and the brown of her eyes. Tall (for a Qenaren), not exceptionally so, but enough to cause an occasional neckache. She is "skinny" to the kind-hearted, "bony" to the honest, and thanks to her often very audible cynicism, there tend to be more of the latter. She can be reckless for spurious reasons, not really putting much faith in higher ideals (like, well, faith). Her loyalty is only given on a very personal basis rather than to larger groups, and those she admires or likes may not even know it except that she goes out of her way to annoy them more than others. Is not a leader in groups (likes making smart comments from the back seat), but when on her own (her preference), has plenty of initiative.
Character HistoryShe can't remember her parents; they both died when she was young, one of disease and the other of a careless jenachen blade. She was sent to her relatives at Tannaj and was mostly a quiet child save for a sense of sarcasm that tended to isolate her from her peers. Even then she had a knack for lurking in the fringes of the group and simply observing other people. As she grew older, the farming that was prevalent there failed to interest her, so she joined the military. She was sent to serve at Birechan and tended to volunteer for some of the more dangerous missions, like spying and scouting. Pure blind luck kept her in (mostly) one piece. Somewhere along the way it become sless of being venturesome and more of something useful she could do, adn she began actively improving her skills to the point where she was chosen for certain tasks because of her competence rather than because no one else was willing.
Writing SampleWinter back in Tannaj had always meant a break from the endless farming, but here in Kisria, it meant that every step crunched a print into the snow, every breath was a cloud of misty air. She knew that such things would hardly give away her presence--at least, she didn't think that "Qenaren spy" was etched in every footprint--but she disliked leaving anything behind as a matter of principle. She wondered again why she had agreed to go on this mission--had she been that bored? Or maybe the commander's urgency had actually impressed her for once; the way he'd spoken, it had almost sounded as if she were the only one who could pull this off. Then again, it could have been an attempt to get rid of her, which, considering the comments she'd made about him with no effort to keep him from hearing, wouldn't be all that surprising. She grinned to herself. She would be disappointed if he hadn't even considered the notion at least once. There: the building that was her destination. By day it was full of bureaucrats sitting in offices and pretending to work; by night it was pleasantly dark, surely empty when there were warm homes to hurry back to. Two sentries had just passed her a few minutes before, so she ought to have several more of safety. She knelt in front of the door and found the lock ridiculously easy to pick. Not that she was going to complain to the authorities about it. She closed the door softly behind her after carefully shaking the snow off her boots, then pulled out a hooded lantern from her pack and lit it. She kept the light only a short distance before her, just in case some deranged fool was working this late in the night--after all, she was proof such people existed. Higher-level officials would be upstairs, where the height was proportional to their egos and where they wouldn't be disturbed as often. Some things were the same everywhere. She made her way up the stairs and entered what seemed to be the largest room. There were a few papers left on the desk, so she started with those, carefully making sure to replace them as they had been when she finished scanning them. When she found something of import, she pulled out her pencil and began to copy. The words left no imprint on her mind--after all, it was her commander's job to worry about them; hers was just to make sure he had the additional stress of doing so. When she was sure she had riffled through everything, she rose and returned downstairs. She waited by the door until the footsteps and muttering of sentries went by; then she slipped out, and the winter darkness greeted her again, the cold settling over her like a mantle. A wind caressed her skin and whirled eastward; she lifted her face to it, ready to follow it back to Qenar.
Brownie Points
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