Rathmall's sword is very, very old. It probably would not last twelve
seconds in battle. The only thing at all frightening or intimidating about
it is probably the sheer immensity of rust that it has acquired. But he
keeps it anyway, for lack of anything better. Also it was his great
grandfathers uncles sword and he feels it has sentimental value despite its
hideous appearance.
Rathmall is a hare, long and lanky, with ruddy fur and a spring in his step. His face is rather long and thin, like the rest of him, often displaying a wide variety of emotions often in a comical manner. His eyes are of a deep purple, of which he is very proud, and his furry head is adorned with a pair of sensitive ears, one usually flopped over. He possesses no great amount of strength, nor endurance, but if pressed can perform athletically or fight admirably. He dresses simply and suited for much travel, clothed in a pair of baggy gray pantaloons, belted in the middle with a large silver buckle. Upon his narrow chest he wears a light gray shirt, perhaps it may have been white long ago but through much hardship and wear it has taken on a grayish color. Over this a light jacket is worn, dark gray in color and travel worn, always unbuttoned. The belt, which was, mentioned earlier, has many odd silver instruments and pouches hanging from it in a disorganized fashion. These he uses for map making, and sketching when he finds time. On his long feet a pair of well-made black boots are strapped. Upon his back a small pack is slung, containing many rolls and sheets of fine paper, spare pencils (which he makes himself) spare ink and pens, and two large books one for sketching and one for poems and plays, and always a great amount of food. Strapped to the side of the pack is his very old sabre. Overall a he goes for a drab appearance, "for it is better to go unnoticed through strange lands rather than to be cooked and eaten by the natives, remember that Rathmall m'lad." As his father would say.
Rathmall grew up in a small community that lived by the banks of a small river. When I say small I mean the 'community' consisted of two families. The story goes, Rathmalls great grandfather's uncle, (the one who had the sword) had retired from the army and decided to build next to a river. On one side was a town and on the other was a village. The two communities were avid traders. Well, the northern town had roads going off along the river and farther north where they ranged far and wide. The southern village had roads going to the south where they traded and gained great wealth as well. The problem was that they could not get to the other side of this river to trade with each other. So Old Briklin Truflor (Rathmalls great grandfathers uncle) decided to build a bridge across this river to help the two towns out. This was done, and both towns rejoiced and threw a great feast in his honor. The problem was that before the two towns had never been in competition with one another because of the river, and so they broke out in war and wiped one another other out. Old Briklin resigned to stay, because he was reluctant to leave his fine bridge. Now, his bridge was the quickest way to get from North to south or the other way round. Somewhere along the way his nephew Rukllo Truflor was traveling along the road and met up with his uncle. They got to talking and the nephew saw how profitable the whole thing was and they decide to go into some serious business. Together they fixed up the ramshackle building into a very nice inn and took in all the traders and travelers who passed by. They became very wealthy and happy, and Rukllo met a pretty haremaid named Patricia Crimsingsol. Together they had a son, and he met a haremaid and they had a son and two daughters and that son met another haremaid and they were the parents of young Rathmall, who this is all really about isn't it? Well, by the time Rathmall was born the Inn had been joined by another family who had stayed so long they became part of the community. Rathmall was born into a family of eight. His Grandfather Trilofst 'Kai' Truflor and aunt Trish, a father a mother, three siblings, and a crazy old mole called Kricksen, who wasn't really related but accepted as part of the family. Well, this was a rather busy place as one might have guessed. So, to top it all off, there was another family who had set up residence beside the Inn, which was now named "The Truflor Inn" This was another family of hares, of who a young chap by the name of Sunflash belonged. Now Sunflash was embarrassed by being named after a badger lord so he made every beast call him Sunster. He and Rathmall got along marvelously, and spent their childhood roaming the fields and exploring the riverbed and listening to the fantastic tales of the travelers who stopped at their Inn. Well this sparked great curiosity in the pair of scoundrels, and they vowed to travel the entire world, and see all there is to see. So as soon as they were old enough and able (at the tail end of adolescents) they took to the road, and headed off North. After about four miles Sunster realized they he had forgotten his pillow and they and to go back. And when they started off again Rathmall remembered that they didn't have a kettle. But after this they really were off, and they set about to adjusting to the wilderness. Sunster took to the outdoors like he was finally in his right environment. Rathmall on the other hand quickly realized that he hated the outdoors, and would rather be eaten by toads than have to go farther. In the end, after being beset by bees, stuck in a swamp, chased by a frog, tripped by a newt, snared by a fox, and tickled by a weasel (This is an odd story better left for later) he was still persuaded to go on by his trusted friend Sunster. To sooth his companion's frustration he made a deal that they would stop at an Inn or town every few days and stay to recuperate. After a time Rathmall became accustomed to the outdoors and was willing to go longer periods without stopping at a town. To make money they were hired at various towns to map out the surrounding areas, using 'state-of-the-art' mapping techniques that would never go out of date. Most towns agreed readily, others took some convincing, and still others would have none of it. In these towns Rathmall would perform poetry and put on skits to pay their way. So in this fashion the Duo of Sunflash and Rathmall was born, err pardon Sun'ster' and Rathmall.
Rathmall is a jovial fellow by nature, always up for a good laugh or joke, and always on the lookout for others in need of cheering up. He has a deep loyalty for his friends, and is quick to forgive them if a disagreement arises. He is quite clumsy, and possesses the 'mile-a-minute' mouth that is usually attributed to hares. He loves to hear himself talk about something he knows much about or nothing at all. In him there is a deeper side under his sometimes-overbearing exterior. It can be seen in his drawings and paintings at times. His poetry and skits are usually comical and light, meant to lighten the mood after a tragic play or song, or break the ice at uncomfortable parties. His favorite thing is to see the darkest of faces brighten.
There once was a delightful young hare, His prattling was too much to bear, One day he was talked out, For he had given a shout, T'was so loud it was really quite rare.
~Rathmall Crimsingsol Truflor Kai'zun
Rathmall is a hare, long and lanky, with ruddy fur and a spring in his step. His face is rather long and thin, like the rest of him, often displaying a wide variety of emotions often in a comical manner. His eyes are of a deep purple, of which he is very proud, and his furry head is adorned with a pair of sensitive ears, one usually flopped over. He possesses no great amount of strength, nor endurance, but if pressed can perform athletically or fight admirably. He dresses simply and suited for much travel, clothed in a pair of baggy gray pantaloons, belted in the middle with a large silver buckle. Upon his narrow chest he wears a light gray shirt, perhaps it may have been white long ago but through much hardship and wear it has taken on a grayish color. Over this a light jacket is worn, dark gray in color and travel worn, always unbuttoned. The belt, which was, mentioned earlier, has many odd silver instruments and pouches hanging from it in a disorganized fashion. These he uses for map making, and sketching when he finds time. On his long feet a pair of well-made black boots are strapped. Upon his back a small pack is slung, containing many rolls and sheets of fine paper, spare pencils (which he makes himself) spare ink and pens, and two large books one for sketching and one for poems and plays, and always a great amount of food. Strapped to the side of the pack is his very old sabre. Overall a he goes for a drab appearance, "for it is better to go unnoticed through strange lands rather than to be cooked and eaten by the natives, remember that Rathmall m'lad." As his father would say.
Rathmall grew up in a small community that lived by the banks of a small river. When I say small I mean the 'community' consisted of two families. The story goes, Rathmalls great grandfather's uncle, (the one who had the sword) had retired from the army and decided to build next to a river. On one side was a town and on the other was a village. The two communities were avid traders. Well, the northern town had roads going off along the river and farther north where they ranged far and wide. The southern village had roads going to the south where they traded and gained great wealth as well. The problem was that they could not get to the other side of this river to trade with each other. So Old Briklin Truflor (Rathmalls great grandfathers uncle) decided to build a bridge across this river to help the two towns out. This was done, and both towns rejoiced and threw a great feast in his honor. The problem was that before the two towns had never been in competition with one another because of the river, and so they broke out in war and wiped one another other out. Old Briklin resigned to stay, because he was reluctant to leave his fine bridge. Now, his bridge was the quickest way to get from North to south or the other way round. Somewhere along the way his nephew Rukllo Truflor was traveling along the road and met up with his uncle. They got to talking and the nephew saw how profitable the whole thing was and they decide to go into some serious business. Together they fixed up the ramshackle building into a very nice inn and took in all the traders and travelers who passed by. They became very wealthy and happy, and Rukllo met a pretty haremaid named Patricia Crimsingsol. Together they had a son, and he met a haremaid and they had a son and two daughters and that son met another haremaid and they were the parents of young Rathmall, who this is all really about isn't it? Well, by the time Rathmall was born the Inn had been joined by another family who had stayed so long they became part of the community. Rathmall was born into a family of eight. His Grandfather Trilofst 'Kai' Truflor and aunt Trish, a father a mother, three siblings, and a crazy old mole called Kricksen, who wasn't really related but accepted as part of the family. Well, this was a rather busy place as one might have guessed. So, to top it all off, there was another family who had set up residence beside the Inn, which was now named "The Truflor Inn" This was another family of hares, of who a young chap by the name of Sunflash belonged. Now Sunflash was embarrassed by being named after a badger lord so he made every beast call him Sunster. He and Rathmall got along marvelously, and spent their childhood roaming the fields and exploring the riverbed and listening to the fantastic tales of the travelers who stopped at their Inn. Well this sparked great curiosity in the pair of scoundrels, and they vowed to travel the entire world, and see all there is to see. So as soon as they were old enough and able (at the tail end of adolescents) they took to the road, and headed off North. After about four miles Sunster realized they he had forgotten his pillow and they and to go back. And when they started off again Rathmall remembered that they didn't have a kettle. But after this they really were off, and they set about to adjusting to the wilderness. Sunster took to the outdoors like he was finally in his right environment. Rathmall on the other hand quickly realized that he hated the outdoors, and would rather be eaten by toads than have to go farther. In the end, after being beset by bees, stuck in a swamp, chased by a frog, tripped by a newt, snared by a fox, and tickled by a weasel (This is an odd story better left for later) he was still persuaded to go on by his trusted friend Sunster. To sooth his companion's frustration he made a deal that they would stop at an Inn or town every few days and stay to recuperate. After a time Rathmall became accustomed to the outdoors and was willing to go longer periods without stopping at a town. To make money they were hired at various towns to map out the surrounding areas, using 'state-of-the-art' mapping techniques that would never go out of date. Most towns agreed readily, others took some convincing, and still others would have none of it. In these towns Rathmall would perform poetry and put on skits to pay their way. So in this fashion the Duo of Sunflash and Rathmall was born, err pardon Sun'ster' and Rathmall.
Rathmall is a jovial fellow by nature, always up for a good laugh or joke, and always on the lookout for others in need of cheering up. He has a deep loyalty for his friends, and is quick to forgive them if a disagreement arises. He is quite clumsy, and possesses the 'mile-a-minute' mouth that is usually attributed to hares. He loves to hear himself talk about something he knows much about or nothing at all. In him there is a deeper side under his sometimes-overbearing exterior. It can be seen in his drawings and paintings at times. His poetry and skits are usually comical and light, meant to lighten the mood after a tragic play or song, or break the ice at uncomfortable parties. His favorite thing is to see the darkest of faces brighten.
There once was a delightful young hare, His prattling was too much to bear, One day he was talked out, For he had given a shout, T'was so loud it was really quite rare.
~Rathmall Crimsingsol Truflor Kai'zun