Ryland Frostbite
From Changeling Venue
Alias(es): Ryland
Real Name: Long lost to the briars of the Hedge
Freehold: Cresting Waves - Gulf Breeze, Florida.
Apparent Age: 30ish in appearance but looking deep into his eyes says something different
Seeming: Wizened
Kith: Soldier
Court: Winter
Concept: Vagabond and thief
Relevant Traits:
Quote:See now that wasnt so hard to open was it
Contents |
Mien
Ryland like most other Wizened was affected physically by the Arcadian adventure. He just got more of it than most. He is short in statue but solid as stone with pointed ears and smooth deep frosted blue skin with totally black eyes. His face further marred by a chiseled icy goatee, as thou made of ice and pronounced Roman hook nose. His hands are quick and nimble with long bony fingers with claws instead of fingernails
Mask
Short beady eyed man with a rogue atttitude about him. Always hanging out near churches and pubs.
Mantle
Coming Soon
History
Background: I don’t truly remember my real name but Ryland made sense for some reason maybe my name was Ryan or Dylan I don’t know and really don’t care anymore. This is the story of Ryland Frostkill and my journey to the land of the Fae and my liberation, or escape as I like to see it. Now remember that fable…shit that lie of where if one follows the rainbow you will find a pot of magical gold. Well if you follow the rainbow you will find something alright but not gold. I remember it as the nightmare it was, that warm summer day in late 1978. I wasn’t a child but I wasn’t a kid either somewhere in between but naïve enough to believe in fairy tales with the hope of finding wealth and dreams. Only thing I found were short evil little bastards who slapped me into a collar and called me names we won’t repeat. Let’s just say the bastards did a number on me, forcing me to eat their scraps and love it for if I didn’t I would have starved. I remember working the mines for years digging the gravel with my bare hands pulling the ore they used for their weapons and wares. I remember the darkness and chill of the caverns becoming less and less as the time went on. It was years before those bastards allowed us to journey out of the caverns with carts of ore and wares to the goblin markets. I remember the pain I felt when I saw myself for the first time in years…My skin weathered and worn turned a light inhuman blue and my eyes. my eyes they became black colorless pools of darkness…They turned the same black color of the ore I pulled from those damned caverns I wanted to cry but found myself unable to even do that human function again…I became a shriveled husk of a man with white long nappy hair and hooked nose….I had long forgotten what I looked like as a human so I couldn’t compare how I looked from then to now. I do remember I didn’t look like this which was unusual for most just forgot who or what they where and just continued to work the work. I refused…I wouldn’t let the bastards beat me…I fought back…This rebellious nature was noticed by my keepers and they relished in making me feel beaten as often as they mustered the desire to do so. I remember the day I was taken from the mines and paraded on the market where I was sold as a slave. I wasn’t the house slave that most of my cavern mates became…my rebellious nature was used to their maximum entertainment value. I was made into a gladiator where I fought rats for their pleasure. I was provided whatever blade I could get my hands on….I learned quickly and used my skills to keep myself alive…I grew to become a wonderful slayer of Rats. I was good at it but not enough to support their desires. I was tossed to the side again and used as a field hand where my feelings of sorrow only gathered so much that it made the icy nights less cold…This chill gathered the attention of a Winter Gentry… I made a deal with it a deal that changed me forever…I believe I impressed my first one of the Fae its icy touch affected me forever become more and more like them daily. Well as much as they would let me…If I ever assumed I was more than a servant I was properly re-educated into my proper place.
I remember following my Gentry to a market place and game display of chance and skill. The fae didn’t know I followed it…but I did…then I remember the sound…the smell…it caused a flood of memories to come to the front…it was suntan lotion and human laughter…I followed it…followed it far into the hedge where for the longest time I was told by my Gentry keepers and fellow wizened never to go for if you did you would never return….many had tried to escape their masters but never did they survive. I wasn’t going to let the chance of FREEDOM escape me….I felt my frosted heart start beating louder and louder as I felt my muscles tense as I broke into a run…Running faster and farther away then I had ever been…deep into the hedge…closer to the sounds of the waves and wind…GULF BREEZE a word came to my mouth as I broke free of the hedge…Then the sound…and inhuman sound…BALE HOUNDS…Never have I been so scared as the sounds of those beast howls seemed to come from everywhere never ending and always getting closer or at least to my perception. I heard and saw them tear through the hedge like beast possessed…seeking my return or at least my death. I ran finally piercing the hedge to a place of wonderment. Humans move in and out of hedges shadow without a clue to its existence or we of them. To my amazement this world existed at all, but the smells and sights brought memories of my youth to the front…I remember finding myself at a gate to a small house near the beach where a family ate their dinner…I watched and listened to the language and sounds of what appeared to me as laughter. Such naïve creatures these humans I was amazed that I might have been one of this foul and stupid creatures. Then something unusual occurred, one of them noticed me and time seemed to stop for just a second as we exchanged glances. I believe it recognized me and I to some degree it…I watched as it left the table and then moments later called to me. It claimed it deserved the right to be here…It claimed that it was now considered family and not I. This angered me to some degree. I remember calling to it…it flared its nature to me and I to it…then it leapt at me and I to it…my vision blurred as I pulled my blade from its sheath and sliced its throat…blood flowed everywhere…I stabbed and stabbed it over and over again releasing all that pent up hurt for them taking me from this life of leisure and giving me a curse of slavery….I heard the scream of the woman as she looked to me blade in hand as I slew what she was led all these years to be her son and not I….I ran with her screams striking me as deeply as the bale hounds howls as I left the hedge. Days went by I prayed that I would become human again but such never happened...I saw more and more the happiness these foul humans had and more and more I resented them...They had things I would never have again freedom and happiness….I was wanted here as much as I was wanted there. Police…like privateers seemed to do the bidding of the mortal keepers…They tracked me wherever I tried to run and hide…Always present and searching for me or someone like me….I for awhile had gained some notoriety as a murderer…A term I never understood…They were just humans I was saving them from the Gentry.
I became more and more reclusive in my dealings with the mortals for fear of drawing attention to myself and the other lost. Yes I found kindred spirits who like me skirted the hedge and mortals trying to stay free. One thing I noticed this freedom came with a price. Food and shelter all became more and more important the longer I stayed away from the keepers care. I found a niche, something my keepers made taught me, something I was good at. I took what I needed to survive nothing more anymore would be my undoing. As with all dealings with mortals you must concern yourself with their keepers, these Police privateers for they would not understand your condition or place in the mystical world.
I gathered likeminded lost into an order this order being the Loyal Order of Fagan Thieves of the Frostbite Guild. As guild mates we would look out for the survival of the other thieves and it provided us a means to police are activities so that no one thief every stole more than he/she need or was taken into custody by either mortal or gentry privateers or loyalist. It provided us, members as haven of safety where more than two sets of eyes watched your back. It allowed for some to have a restful sleep for once in our paranoid little lives.
Associations & Associates
- The Freehold of Cresting Waves
- The Loyal Order of Fagan Thieves of Frostbite Guild
- The Inn of Lost Hope - Innkeeper Solstice
- Solanum Xanti
- Murphy
Seeking background ties of all sorts.
Soundtrack
Quotes
"Officer, I can explain...See I thought this was my friends place...I completely understand now why the key didnt work."
"Just be sure to keep your eyes on the little gowno. He's great as long as you know who you're dealing with." - Murphy
"That little blue imp... oh sweetie, let me tell you... you want someone who can sticky finger a trinket for you... he is the Man.. watch those daggers though.. he is quick and where he hides them... even "I" don't want to know." ~ Solanum Xanti
Fact or Fiction
Never seems to be without a knife.
Before he leaves your home or business check his pockets, he doesnt mean too... stuff just falls in them.
Finder of lost things and willing to return them for a price.
Leader of a local ragtag group of thieves.
Knows a few too many goblins to be completely trusted.
OOC Info
Name: Chris Duesler
Region: Southeast Region
Domain:a Flooded Stage, FL-024-D
