Rowan Eliot
 Rowan Eliot
| |
 Overdressed for Mist | |
| Gender | Male |
| Race | Miqo'te |
| Clan | Seeker of the Sun |
| Citizenship | Limsa Lominsan |
| Place of Birth | Unknown |
| Guardian | Azeyma, the Warden |
| Nameday | 12th Sun of the 5th Umbral Moon (Age: 19) |
| Marital Status | What's "marriage"? |
| Occupation | Marauder/Wannabe Pirate/Penniless Adventurer/Maelstrom Second Storm Lieutenant |
| Pronunciation | Rowan. Eliot. |
Contents
Basic Info
"…………………………………." –Most of what Rowan says out loud
"Those are some very silly-looking pants." –Something more along the lines of what Rowan thinks at those times
Personality
Rowan plays the goofball, the village idiot, or the greenhorn very convincingly, because it's not entirely an act—he is rather slow on the uptake when it comes to most people's emotions and perceptions. However, he can be surprisingly serious when the conversation turns to things he understands and gives weight to. Being from a small island where he would watch people from afar, and now a moderately experienced adventurer, he can sometimes be surprisingly sharp about people dealing with heavy emotions—but overly blunt at communicating to them about it. Rowan does not believe in sugar-coating his words, softening blows, or deceiving. Likewise, he does not believe in showing every side of himself easily; his ears are always open, and he is always listening and learning, but he rarely lets people realize he's not just an idiot. To him, life is easier if he is perceived as a simpleton, and he will only break out of that when he feels too strongly about something to keep quiet any longer.
He likes life better when it's simple, but cannot stand idly by when he perceives someone needing help—whether that's a kidnapped child or a grieving fool looking to reclaim the souls of the dead.
Appearance
Height: 168.2cm
Weight: We don't know, but he's worth it in grilled fish
Complexion: Kind of brownish
Hair: Not very obedient
Eyes: Green
Particular Traits: Friendly, clueless, quiet unless agitated or drunk
Voice: Low and surprisingly manly
Clothing Style: Pirates are cool
Tastes
Hobbies
- Eating
- Hunting
- Eating
- Dancing
- Eating
- Adventuring
- Throwing axes
- Exploring
Likes
- Fish
- Fat chocobos
- Other delicious birdies
- His loyal chocobo (and the only one he won't consider eating), Torii
- Perching on high spots
- Sun
- His axe
- Friends
- His Demon Brick minion (we call him Brickie)
- Ear scritchies
Dislikes
- Being hungry
- Being lonely
- Not being allowed to whack things over the head
- Being told that grown adults do not sleep with their axes like they're their favorite stuffed animal
- Roegadyns picking him up by the nape and carrying him around
- Not understanding the conversation because it's so complicated and what's a *bleeeeeep*?
Favorites
- Color: Orange
- Food: Just about anything if it used to fly or swim
- Drinks: Cream
- Scent: Ocean air.
- Place: Secret.
- Festival: The Moonfire Faire.
Goals
Having mastered the axe and lived his life as a Maelstrom Marauder for a while, Rowan has begun to feel the itch for freedom once again. He is currently exploring the rest of Eorzea, intent on tapping into his (possibly non-existent) spiritual side and learning arcane arts.
Fortunately, like many an uneducated druid, Rowan does seem to have some connection to nature, even if it does not carry him much farther than having conversations with Emerald Carbuncle at present.
Religion
Rowan has never been introduced to formal religion and believes in the Warden only because he heard the word "warden" and thought it suited him. He is rather unintentionally irreverant and only seems to pray when it suits him, which is rarely. To his credit, those rare occasions are not generally when he's probably about to die, so at least his tiny smidge of faith is not entirely self-serving.
Alignment
Chaotic Good (I'm going to pretend this is totally what the question was asking)
Personality
Summary
Rowan wasn't exactly properly socialized. He has a very expressive face, but he doesn't talk much. Also, despite having now spent a year adventuring, he's still rather painfully naïve sometimes. He finds just about everything curious and doesn't pick up on people's cues that they find his nosing uncomfortable. However, he does not intentionally offend or take offense easily, and is only aggressive in battle, in which situations his main goal is to make every angry monster angriest at him so as to protect whoever else is nearby (whether he knows them or not). Generally speaking, he is friendly and quiet and clueless, and a spazz-master when agitated or drunk.
And if you scratch behind his ears, he will purr involuntarily.
Fears
Secret for now.
Talents
Certainly not conjury. He throws a mean axe though. And he can win just about any eating competition.
Intelligence
Rowan is not stupid. He's just painfully naïve about most things. It is awfully difficult to tell those two apart sometimes.
Abilities and Skills
Personal
- (currently thinking up clever answers)
Disciple of War
- He is an experienced Marauder/Warrior, and is most comfortable in this role.
- He spent some time with the Gladiators' Guild, but the first time he wanted to attack from range, he threw his sword at a bat. And he missed.
- He learned under the Lancers for a time, but decided stabbing motions didn't suit him after the umpteenth time he tried to swing the shaft of the spear into an enemy's neck.
- He was kicked out of the Pugilist's Guild after insisting they should use nunchuks and giving himself a black eye.
Disciple of Magic
- He is not talented at Conjury. This is not stopping him. He has learned the theory surprisingly well; now if only he had the aptitude for it.
- He is a very, very basic beginner Arcanist, and not the ideal strategist for the role, but he has already begun making a special bond with his Emerald Carbuncle, whom he affectionately refers to as Carby or Carbohydrate or Carbus. He calls telling Carbuncle to sic an enemy "Carbloading."
Disciple of the Hand
- He took up Goldsmithing as an excuse to handle expensive materials. Then he realized he had to mine them himself.
Disciple of the Land
- He took up Mining to have expensive materials to handle as a Goldsmith. Then he got bored.
Family and Relationships
DISCLAIMER
All what is written here bears absolutely no OOC feelings, and may be subject to change as the story develops. If your name doesn't appear in this list, I have probably forgotten, or my character just doesn't remember you. Or so says the disclaimer included with this template.
Relatives
- "Father": One crazy Hyur hermit who forgot his name a very long time ago, and may at this moment be lamenting the loss of a son… or a pet… or dinner.
Positive
Neutral
Aisha K'lank'lan: He barely knows her at the moment, but his impression of her is, so far, that she is a fairly responsible, powerful young woman who will unexpectedly shout things he believes are probably racy.
Hamato Saki: He barely knows him at the moment, but his impression of him is that he bites off more than he can chew and doesn't want to admit it, but it as eager an adventurer as ever Rowan himself was and nobody who buys him drinks could possibly be a bad guy.
Auger Asagi: He knows more about Asagi at the moment, but doesn't know what to think about him. On one hand, he believes Asagi is a fool. On the other, he understands that in hopeless times, some men cannot keep sane if they keep still. His feelings are right now torn between wanting to shake Asagi for his foolishness and wanting to rescue him from himself before he hurts himself further, and yet, all Rowan can really process is that absolutely nothing he can do will make any difference.
Negative
Rumors
Note: This section is editable by anyone. Just keep in mind that the rumors here may be both true or false. But why would you want to start up false rumors about a cute li'l kitty like Rowan, anyway? Please stop grinning like that ==
History
Name and Lifestyle
Name Etymology
He was found in a rowan grove, and thus named Rowan by his crazy Hyur hermit adoptive father. He was also named Eliot because… reasons? He's not sure.
Nicknames
From Asagi: "Axehead"
Current Residence
Before Dalamud's Fall
Childhood
A miqo'te kitten was found in a rowan grove on a small island nearly twenty years ago. 'Twas fortunate for the kit, lest he have starved; and at the same time, 'twas unfortunate for the kit, because he was found by the island's resident mad Hyur hermit.
The hermit, used by the local village parents as a cautionary tale to their children against the dangers of crystal fume-huffing, was a bit of a forgetful sort. He first named Rowan after the trees beneath whose branches he was found; he later named him Eliot after... something about possums and practical cats, Rowan never did figure that one out entirely. He would switch between the two (plus "cat" or "kitty" or "boy" or occasionally "girl") indiscriminately. He also never quite hammered down what his relationship with the boy was. One day Rowan was his son; the next, his pet; the next next, emergency rations. Rowan spent much of his youth hewing firewood with a blunt axe and catching rabbits and fish and small birds to prevent his mad hermit father from reconsidering whether Rowan was too much trouble to try and eat.
The Calamity
A thirteen-year-old Rowan watched the moon fall from afar, not knowing of the brave souls of the soldiers and adventurers who gave their lives at the Carteneau Flats. He simply stared at the sky in wonder as the world, so it seemed, came to an end; feelings of hopelessness so powerful as to almost resemble peace washed over him, and he began to wonder—to question—what lay beyond the island's shores.
After Dalamud's Fall
Leaving the Island
It would be many years before Rowan would overhear tales of the adventurers' exploits at the end of the Sixth Astral Era, and begin to weave tales in his head of one day joining them.
One evening, when Rowan had grown into a young man, the hermit for whatever reason decided to wax poetic, as if he had not been staring hungrily at Rowan's tail just that morning. "Ah yes, Rowan, m'boy," he began, "one day, perhaps one day soon, all this shall be yours."
Rowan blinked and surveyed his surroundings. 'All this' consisted of a cave with a few pieces of rough-hewn furniture, a garden with a stone fence that the village children playing "Big Brave Adventurer" liked to dare each other to steal from, and a reputation for insanity. You can keep it, Rowan thought to himself. That day, he made up his mind to leave the island and start wielding slightly sharper axes as a Marauder—an adventurer, he thought to himself, eyes gleaming with dreams of glory and heroism like those children whose tales he'd overheard. To Limsa Lominsa.
Starting as an Adventurer
After stowing away on a ship bound for Limsa—apparently they don't let you on if you don't give them "gil"—Rowan made for the Marauder's Guild immediately. And by immediately, I mean he got lost for a few hours, spent a long time gazing pathetically at all the gatherers at Fisherman's Bottom and making them uncomfortable, was pickpocketed by a disappointed thief whose only bounty was lint and a potato, and tripped over at least three Lalafells by accident. But at long last, around sundown, he made it to his destination, with absolutely no clue how he got there. He was greeted by impressive, manly Roegadyn stares all directed very, very far downward... and copious laughter.
"A kitten! This kitten thinks he's got the stuff ta be a M'rauder!" one guffawed. Rowan, somehow missing that he was being insulted, nodded enthusiastically. "Tell ye what, then," the Roe continued, patting Rowan patronizingly on the head with a little too much force and still holding back chortles of laughter, "ye take this axe—'s the smallest we got—and bring back some wharf rat heads. Then maybe we'll let ye in."
Rowan nodded, took the axe, and got lost in Limsa for another four hours. When he showed back up at the guild around midday the next day, he had dozens of rats strung together and a scarf made of mossy Goobbue skin. That day, Rowan was welcomed into the Marauder's Guild.
He has since followed the path of the axe almost religiously, training and honing his skills with the guild and, later, with Curious Gorge. He joined the Maelstrom because he wandered into their dining hall one evening, lured by the smell of fish stew, and was promptly drafted upon being discovered up to his nose in his second bowl. While he's proven his worth to the Maelstrom in campaigns against the kobolds and the sahagin and more, he was never cut of military cloth, and tends to be a thorn in his commanders' sides.
Present
Lately, with the Seventh Astral Era upon Eorzea and earth-shattering disasters requiring armies of adventurers a little bit rarer, Rowan has found a rising urge to be free and explore Eorzea more fully. (It helps that he doesn't get lost in Limsa Lominsa anymore.) Regardless of his aptitude or lack thereof, he's begun dabbling in the arcane arts, unintentionally making half of his conjury patients worse than they were when he found them. The formidible axe-wielder in a small package is currently traveling the world, proving that just because you know how to swing an axe does not mean you can do anything else competently. Anything. Else.
While he lacks aptitude for the magical arts, Rowan has made a point of studying under the Conjurer's and Arcanist's Guilds' masters to at least learn the theory. He has a surprisingly strong grasp on it, and is in the process of trying to convert that theoretical knowledge into practical ability.
Conjury is, apparently, far more difficult than throwing an axe into a sahagin's forehead.
