Kerori Perori

Example

Kerori Perori Race: plainsfolk Age: 30 Gender: male Height: 2’8” Weight: 48 Pz Deity: Llymlaen, the Navigator Profession: poet, scribe Alignment: neutral good Sexuality: attracted to women, but open-minded. Likes: alcohol, handwritten letters, whittling Dislikes: cold, silence, aetheryte travel

Personality

As a poet who leads a self-sustaining life in city-state of Gridania, Kerori has an intimate connection with both literature and nature, and both of these things influence is personality greatly. Bookish and homely, by looks alone Kerori gives the impression of a quiet and passive Lalafell. These impressions are put to rest usually as soon as he opens his mouth. While he certainly is studious, Kerori is also an outgoing and chatty character with a love of good company and good drink. He’s a generally well-meaning fellow and he has a big heart, but he isn’t exactly saintly. Those who speak with Kerori will likely find him well-learned and knowledgeable, but also quite brash. He is excitable, unabashed, and at times mischievous. Although he is intelligent, he lacks a certain degree of common sense.

Kerori is, foremost, a kind and sympathetic character. Overcompensatingly so. He will bend over backwards to help someone in need, be them stranger or friend. He gives money he doesn’t have, he takes blame for things he hasn’t done, and he gives second chances to folks so unsavory they probably didn’t deserve to be given a chance to begin with. Personal goals and responsibilities are often put on hold when he’s called upon for help, and, since he easily picks up on emotional cues, he often makes himself present to help even when he’s not called upon (and sometimes even when he’s not wanted). Kerori finds his greatest reward is in making others smile. His bleeding heart sometimes gets him into trouble. He’s made bad habit of following his feelings instead of logic.

The kindness Kerori exemplifies colors other aspects of his personality. He is open-minded and withholds personal judgment more often than not. His simple, easy-going attitude makes him easy company. He may be dining in the company of wealthy merchants one day and smoking with sailors the next. Kerori’s spectrum of morality is one that can overlook seedy behavior as long as it doesn’t involve bringing harm to others. He can find a friend in some unlikely characters because of this. Once befriended, he is dotingly loyal, and trusting to fault. Particularly dangerous is his propensity to forgive over and over again. Kerori likes to believe that man is inherently good, but obviously in Eorzea this is not always the case.

Of Kerori’s personality traits, what most strongly parallels his kindness is his biting, sarcastic sense of humor. Subtle and intelligent, Kerori’s humor sometimes flies over the heads of non-academics. While his humor isn’t malicious, he does often poke fun of people directly. His friends and colleagues are especially in danger of being targeted, but new acquaintances are also susceptible. He often finds out the hard way who’s a sensitive soul. He doesn’t like to offend, of course, so he does reel in his wit once he finds his company doesn’t take well to it. The friends who exchange jabs with him are some of his dearest. He takes great joy trading insults. If Kerori finds you’re generally immune to this kind of pestering, you may find yourself the subject of one of his limericks.

Beyond that, Kerori is a pacifistic person. He dislikes conflict and he is (for now) completely non-combative. When put into a tight spot, Kerori is one to exhaust all diplomatic options before fighting (and he’s more likely to run before fighting, even). He has a great respect for life, and by extension, all living things. His relationship with nature is founded on this virtue. Kerori reveres Eorzea’s wilderness so much that he has pledged not to harm it if he can help it. Kerori practices conservation of the land (ex. planting trees), and he does not cull beasts if he can avoid it. He practices vegetarianism, but not in a strict sense. He eats meat on occasions when he’s offered it, not wanting to be a rude guest, and once every couple of years when the hens he raises reach an age that they no longer produce eggs.

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Although outwardly cheerful, Kerori is depressed. Kerori is fortunate in the sense that his depression is not debilitating. He can more or less go through with the motions of his day even when it’s at its worst. He hides it exceptionally well. Those who meet Kerori will most likely find his general attitude is jovial and outgoing. The attitude he puts on isn’t a charade, but more of a performance that helps him cope. In a similar vein, he often injects grains of hope into conversations that seem otherwise bleak or hopeless. This isn’t because he believes what he’s saying necessarily, but because he needs to convince himself of such. Being somewhat extroverted, he can often distract himself from depression with company. When there’s no company, he can use alcohol. Most commonly, he mixes the two.

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Beginnings

Kerori was born in a rural area outside of Limsa Lominsa. He is the eldest of seven children, and has three brothers and three sisters. When he was young, his family occupied a small house with enough land for several garden patches and some livestock. While relatively poor, they were able to feed themselves well with a combination of farming and gleaning from La Noscea’s natural resources. Kerori carries his agricultural knowledge with him still today. He often scrutinizes market prices of produce based on his experience.

To make a living, Kerori and his family prepare fresh bread and other baked goods every morning. After pre-slicing the bread and arranging the slices into sandwiches, they would wrap the finished product in a huge banana leaf and take it down to the Limsa docks. The pre-packed lunches were quick and convenient, so they were a popular item among the sailors frequently moving in and out of the docks. The business enjoyed relative success, but the legality of their operation was a bit questionable, since they didn’t have the blessing of Limsa’s guild network to vendor. Luckily, since the ports were full of folk also up to legally questionable things, they were never ratted on.

When he reached 14 cycles, Kerori’s parents were involved in an accident with an escaped Couerl. The cats came along on a smuggler’s ship. An adult Couerl had been brought along with a shipment of kittens, presumably to be sold as a mount. The smugglers lost control of the Couerl and it fled to the La Noscean plains, later to have a run in with Kerori and his family during a gathering expedition. Kerori’s parents were killed and eaten. Kerori was forced to become very self-sufficient very quickly, and he spent the majority of his youth on trying to keep his family afloat.

It was also around this time that Kerori began to learn how to read. For much of his youth, Kerori was illiterate (some of his siblings still are). Kerori did not have a formal education, but was given literacy lessons by a midlander that would come down to the docks every so often to offer free lectures to sailors. Kerori was no sailor, but he was intrigued by the lessons for much the same reason the sailors were – the lecturer was a beautiful woman. Kerori studied unrelentingly, hoping to get himself noticed over the rugged men that surrounded him. What started as an attempt to impress a beautiful girl grew into a genuine passion for the written word.

When he reached 23 cycles, Kerori’s brothers and sisters no longer relied on him as a guardian, and several had married off into other families. At this point, Kerori decided it was time to start a new chapter in his life. Taking much of his inspiration from nature, moving to Gridania seemed the natural choice for Kerori. The following years were a quiet period in Kerori’s life. He dedicated much of his time to writing. Being a foreigner, he made few friends locally, but found better company in the adventurers that passed through city-state. His means of socialization led him to late nights in the Carline Canopy. He became a heavy drinker.

Two summers after Kerori moved to Gridania, the calamity happened. Kerori’s life took its second chaotic turn since the death of his parents, and he was once again scrambling to keep his family together. Kerori’s siblings had all dispersed to different city-states, so the calamity effected all of them differently. Some lost spouses or children, some had businesses or assets ruined, and some suffered personal injury. Relationships within the family soured mainly due to financial disputes. Two of Kerori’s brothers were put out of work, and because the family as a whole could not come together to support them, Kerori offered. The brothers have been financially dependent on Kerori ever since. Kerori tries to mediate disagreements within his family whenever possible.

Shortly after the calamity, the conjury guild opened its doors to foreign applicants. Kerori took this opportunity to begin studying conjury and joined Twin Adder to serve as a medic. Despite earnest efforts and his relationship with nature, Kerori cannot personally sense the elementals. His conjury is rather weak because of this. He maintains an entry level rank with the adders because his low skill and inability to defend himself. When involved in a venture, he is deployed at base camps and uses a combination of conjury and traditional remedies to treat the ill. This is essentially Kerori’s day job. Because of his low skill level, it doesn’t pay well, but it provides a stable and dependable base income. Kerori is somewhat troubled by how poorly he performs in conjury, because he believes himself to have a greater relationship with nature than most, but it likely has more to do with his inability to interact with aether than it does anything to do with nature.

Poetry

``I sat in wondering a while,
About the things I’ve come to know.
Of every thought I could compile.
And everything that’s caused me woe.

While ruminating in that style,
My burdened spirit kindled low,
To mend my flame I thought that I’ll—
I’ll take those thoughts and let them go.``

Poetry is Kerori’s greatest passion. He often calls himself a poet when asked about his profession, but he doesn’t technically do poetry professionally. That would require making money off his work. His poems are thus far unpublished. He has a hard enough time garnering any interest for them at all – trying to trade them for coin would likely just get him laughed at. This isn’t because Kerori’s poems are bad (that’s entirely subjective), but because he doesn’t have the same forward momentum as someone of highborn status in same profession. Kerori’s passion for literature has made him a fan of high arts and high society, but he is still decidedly working class.

With few exceptions, most of the successful literates around Kerori are born from wealth and traditionally educated. Kerori views them with a mixture of envy and idolization. He take great inspiration from well-circulated authors, and can name and recite many of their works. He is aware of his own disadvantage when compared against them, but this doesn’t discourage him from writing poetry. Of course, Kerori’s poems also take plenty from Kerori’s own personality. His working class background is sometimes reflected in some of his less appropriate compositions.

Kerori brings a composition journal with him everywhere. It will usually be filled with near complete poems and aborted ideas. He will scribble inside of it when any odd idea comes to him, so these composition books can become cramped with inane, seemingly unrelated tangents. He is slightly wary about who he lets look inside. Kerori will at times have several blank leaf books on his person. Not because he carries more than on composition book, but because he is sometimes commissioned to write. Sadly, these commissions are not for his poetry. His handwriting in impeccable, so he is sometimes commissioned to pen copies of existing literature.