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Sparrowhawk the Wanderer

Soon after my birth, upon opening my eyes to the world for the very first time, their unusual amber hue and a predatory piercing quality evoked the image of a hunting Sparrowhawk, moments before diving for their prey. This has earned me the name through which I am known - Sparrowhawk.
Or so I am told.

Unlike a Sparrowhawk, though, I am of no small stature. Standing six feet and three inches high, with the build of someone who has learned how to use its body and is not afraid to do so.
White skin with a copper glow that matches my eyes, long black hair and unruly beard. My garments tend to be plain, mostly mirroring the tones of the earth, but I like to give them my own twist and make them unique in some sort. Still, they have to be practical. What is the point of clothing if it's going to get in the way?

Countless hours I have spent running through the vastness of the open wilderness and amongst the thickness of the forest, climbing crooked ancient trees and ragged cliffs, exploring the depths of dark caves, swimming and diving on ice cold rivers and lakes. Exploring every inch of every mile that was within reach.

The Wanderer they call me, as to the common eye it would seem as if I am always and ever on the move. That, however, is not the whole truth, though my mind is forever restless.

I have always tried to gather as much knowledge as I could. Be it by inviting learned man to talk with, reading every possible book and text I could lay my hands on or simply sitting and watching nature and life unfold before my eyes.

I look not for power over others, but only over myself. I believe in knowledge and wisdom and, above all, I believe one can find them amongst any sort - thief and knight alike, sinner and saint, tavern wench and noble aristocrat.

The wise man my mother invited as of my 16th birthday as said of me:
"Thou art like water in a vase for months. It becomes stale and does not have a good taste but can still be used for the plants or washing the feet.
Ye must know more to be aware of foxes in holes"
The meaning of these words have eluded me so far and I ponder them often. Could they hold any power over my future? Maybe I will never know.

Not that I will let them dictate my life. I am my own ruler and scorn every ideologue that believes some are above others, be it by birth, wealth or the will of some disdainful God.

So, here I stand, Sparrowhawk, the Wanderer, ready to write my own story with ink and blood.

Wanderer Sparrowhawk

Advisor Description

Still overwhelmed by the sheer monstrosity of The Town, and true to the name by which I am know, I went on a wander as the last daylight faded and a new moon brought the promise of a new Era. As I walked down a cobbled street, a star-lit sky above me and only the muffled laughter and cheering from the Tavern behind me, a voice called from the shadows. As I turned, I saw nothing but a dark outline against the darkness of the night.

'Who calls my name?' I asked the darkness.

A laugh, was the answer. The shadow took its hood and I could just about make out the glint of two blue eyes, reflecting what little light there was. I decided to get closer, not feeling threatened in any way, even though I still did not fully trust this giant living, breathing beast that was The Town.

The voice spoke again, as I approached. 'So this is you, Sparrowhawk. You do not look very impressive to me'

Those words cut through my pride. Anger must have flashed in my voice.

'Who are you and how do you know my name?'

Laughter, again.

'It matters not, love. I did not mean to hurt your young man's pride,' she chuckled. 'I am… a friend. We have common acquaintances and, let's say, common interests. I believe we may be of help to each other. My… trade means I can easily get information that might be of use to you.'
'You go by a birds' name and so shall I. Call me Raven. I am no predator, love, but do not doubt my wits. I can bring you information, I can be a trickster, if I need, and I can be an omen of death, if I must.'

I was still not fully convinced, yet somehow I trusted her. Even though she kept trying to use her femininity to charm me.
Of course, all this would make a lot more sense to me later, when I found out what her 'trade' was. And she was right, she had a lot to offer. But I couldn't stop myself wandering - what did I have to offer her?

Sparrowhawk the Wanderer Post Play & MMORPG RPG Text

The Beauty of Lady Fluke

An Ode To Lady Fluke

Oh, the golden hue of her long tresses.
A mouth of lips of a full vermilion
Made by the divine for one to kiss on.
These are but gifts from a God's blesses.

Oh, such eyes of deep emerald green.
Melodious voice, high and sharp,
Could not be played even by an angel's harp.
Forget all beauty you have ever seen.

Oh, a sigh comes from the crowd.
Lady Fluke is such a sun ray of beauty
That praising her becomes one's duty.
It induces an awe-filled silence that speaks so loud.

Wanderer Sparrowhawk

Most beautiful lady of Sparrowhawk

What just past dawn, the first rays of sun the rooftops of the houses in Town. I had raised early to make the best of the day. I was feeling focused and was going to spend the whole of the day improving my combat skills. But as I walked down the street, the dawn chorus filling the silent morning - blackbirds and robins, wrens and chaffinches - movement to my left got my attention.

It was just by the stables. A figure was packing a black horse, nothing seemed to distract them from their job. No one else on sight, it was still early, too early, as the sun rises in the early hours of the morning at this time of the year. I wanted to move one, but something kept from going. So, I observed this stranger for the moment.

Having finished packing, the figure patted the horse on its head and kissed his muzzle. It was then my presence was noted. The figure faced me for the first time and my heart stopped for a beat. The most beautiful woman I had ever seen. Long, crimson hair, tied in a practical braid. Green emerald eyes that seemed to pierce right through my soul. She wore tight leather armour under a long wine-coloured hooded coat. Two daggers hang from each side of her hips. Her body was slim, but athletic. You could see she knew how to use it. She seemed to inspect me as much as I did inspect her.

She smiled. And then, before I could even think, she jumped on her black horse and galloped past me, not looking back a single time.

Wanderer Sparrowhawk

Why Am I Sparrowhawk?

The encounter with the small child left me wandering. Free. Am I free? I was glad it was a warm, sunny day, for even though I was committed to my quest it gave me time to think and meditate on all this as my feet kept moving. Am I free? I suppose I am as free as anyone can be. I believe in the natural order of things - and not in the way many priests and nobleman seem use the word. I believe every man and woman, every single living being, is free to make their own path and, being so, shall have to live with the consequences. Yes, being free does not mean free from consequence. It means carving your own path. Live and let live. Finding meaning where you believe meaning will be. Yours, not someone else's. Yes. This seemed right. I carried on my quest with a smile and a peaceful mind.

Sparrowhawk the Wanderer

Sparrowhawk the Wanderer is raised. I, Sparrowhawk, have died but am alive again! Mine mesmerized 1st awakening. Was it a bedtime story. I need to changeth mine cause.

Sparrowhawk Wanderer

Sparrowhawk the Wanderer Lives!. A title of Wanderer did not protecteth me from my 2nd overwhelmed death. No more must mine motive bring me to this point.

Sparrowhawk Wanderer Text RPG MMORPG & Play Post

I am a Ranger because I have joined the Guild of Rangers.