My bid for this auction:
The Western Isles: Design Your Own AuctionName:
April 2013 Auctions: Design Your Own
Auction is open. Note the group with bids, see the main page for deadline.
1) It is open to everyone, provided they have no yet reached their 3 starter limit.
2) This auction is run almost exactly the same as an art auction, the only difference is that YOU design the character and their genetics.
3) Gender, type, personality etc. are up to you
4) HERE'S THE CATCH: All characters must be used on the Western Isles, it MUST be a purebred Windborne or Oakfern and used in these herds.
5) Send all bids in a note to the group. Bids in comments will be IGNORED.
6) There are 10 winning slots up for grabs.
Tips on how to win
- Follow the above rules
- Include concise detail
- Don't try and do something completely different to any of the designs you've seen previously. Seriously, if its absent its probably absent for a reason.
- Read the Windborne and Oakfern herd journals
- Have a look at bids that have won other aucti
Cobar = burnt earthAge:
Cobar's body is slender, but muscular from scouting the rugged lands of Windborne. His muscle type is a mixture between bulky and lean, giving him the power to throw his weight around, if need be, but enough agility to move quickly on his hooves. His head is elegant, but still thick and masculine and his neck is curved and crested. The dark rack upon his brow is tall, but narrow, allowing him easier passage through more overgrown sections of forest. However, it is still a hindrance with low-lying branches. Cobar's fur is short in the warm seasons, but his undercoat grows considerably denser during fall and winter. His mane and tail are thick and coarse, as are the tufts of hair that trail down his underside.Eye Color:
Sooty Bay RoanGenetics:
Cobar runs on a sense of duty. It is fulfilling for him and he uses his talents to accomplish the tasks set by him and those depending upon him. Usually that means scouting the surrounding area for dangers, fending off said danger and placing himself in harm's way, should the need arise, to protect those under his watch. Sometimes this drive of duty has placed him in tough and life-threatening situations, but if one were to ask if he regretted his actions the answer would simply be 'I did what I had to do'. Cobar is not a stag of many words, prone to listening rather than talking. Some may think of this as a sign of simple-mindedness, but this stag is actually quite smart. Not the same type of smarts as those who collect herbs and concoct potions and pastes out of them, but the kind that tells him where a predator might be lurking under muddy waters, or the best rise to scout the area from. Cobar isn't the best with does, some finding him dull or uninteresting and he has a tendency to put them off for tasks required of him. Although he may not show it, the real reason for shrugging them off is that he's actually quite shy around the opposite gender and loses his composure easily if one shows interest in him. Unused to this strange feeling of insecurity, he can become seemingly harsh to escape it. Although Cobar is strong and capable, and would be more than suitable as a leader, he chooses to follow and serve, but only under one that he finds worthy enough. Herd:
WindborneWhat I plan to do if I win him:
He would be placed in the Cape Splinter herd as a soldier/scout, perhaps a general, if possible
Would take directions from the Cape Splinter leader
Level up on his stats/magic
I have a plot thought up between a doe from the main herd and himself that would eventually become his mate
Expand upon his life/history through rps and storiesBreif History:
Born as the last fawn of his aging mother and father who are a mated pair
Inherits his father's serious disposition, while his mother is very lighthearted and always encourages her son to loosen up
Stays with his mother and father in the main herd as he grows up, although he always has the strange feeling that he doesn't belong there
Is a scout for the main herd, fending off any predators that may wander into the area
Discovers the voice of Molach for the first time at the age of 8 during a raging thunderstorm
Develops a habit of wandering off during storms to listen to the voice, the only time he is able to communicate with it, even ditching his duties to do so
After a few more years his parents die of old age, first his father and then his mother, who he stays with until she passes away a season later
After his parent's deaths his unrest in the main herd grows and he begins to question them and their motives, no longer feeling compelled to serve under the king
Another encounter with Molach during a storm finally helps him decide to make the journey to the cape, where they worship the god of the wind
He arrives and offers himself as a protector in service to Molach and the leader of the cape splinter herdSTATS:
Speed: 3 <font size="1">(+1 speed for med-light)</font>
Strength: 5 <font size="1">(limit 7)</font>
<font size="1">Starter points: (3) +2 Strength., +1 Stm.</font>
Herb Lore Level:  Basic
Air Magic Level:  Medium
<font size="1">Starter points: Increase Air Magic</font>STORY:
Lightning streaked through a dark, starless sky and thunder rumbled threateningly as Cobar finished the last of his scouting round outskirting the herd's location near Haven Creek. The king was moving them towards Cockle Bay so that the youngsters could shelter in the warm, shallow waters there. So far during their journey there hadn't been many complications. There were, of course, some predators that needed to be shooed away and a few of the larger ones that took more forceful coaxing. All in all it had been a boring trip, especially without the presence of his parents to keep him company. However, his dull mood was changing as the wind shifted, tugging at his thick, black mane and whistling through the dry leaves that clung for dear life to the gnarled branches they resided upon.
Excitement began to accumulate inside of the ash-flecked stag, his muscles tensing in anticipation. He was coming. Glancing back at the herd that shuffled into the thickest sheltering copse they could find, Cobar clenched his jaw before hastening off in a ground-covering trot. He never spoke to him around the herd. Although he felt guilty about leaving the others during what would likely be a violent summer storm, Cobar could not deny that his duty was to the wind, not the king. As he grew older the sooty stag wondered whether he truly agreed with the actions of the king. They were driven by his own needs, not the needs of the one who supplied him with the power to harness the wind. The same power that no doubt aided him in securing his position.
Wandering further away, he came upon a stony rise as the first fat raindrops began to pelt the dry ground, thunder booming as if to herald in the start of the deluge. Now Cobar's dark mane and coat became quickly soaked by the pounding droplets, the speed at which they hit him stinging his hide. Still, he waited patiently, embracing the storm and unafraid of the lighting that pierced the otherwise dark landscape. He would come. He always did. Closing his eyes, the stag took a deep breath, his lungs filled with the damp scent that he'd been desiring for so long, but the heat of summer had held it at bay with its ruthless and unforgiving sun. Large ears twitched, listening intently for any sign of Him, straining past the screeching wind to find something sweeter...a soothing and gentle voice.
Ah, there He was.
"Yes, Molach?" The stag answered in his deep tone, using the name that He had informed Cobar to call Him by.
The soaked buck knew that the god of the wind couldn't possibly be encompassed by a name, however. There were endless words to describe the wind; powerful, gentle, agile, terrifying, comforting...but it was impossible to restrict such a force to words alone. Bowing his head, Cobar went down on his front knees in reverence, waterlogged mane slipping over his ears to create a small stream that dripped steadily from his nose.
"Rise, my child."
The bay stag did as he was told with no hesitation, eyes still shut, listening and waiting for what the voice of the wind might inform him of tonight.
"You are of no further use here, Cobar. What good are you to me amongst those who have forgotten the sound of my voice? You are bound for greater things, my child. There are others like you, others who hear me just as clearly. I bid you to go North, into the thick mires and bogs, the lands that the king and his followers dare not tread upon. Do this for me and I will reward you. Now...go..."
The sweet voice faded out as it always eventually did and wouldn't be heard from again until the next storm blew in. Cobar's hair stood on end as if the electricity from the lightning lingered in the air about him. Never had Molach ordered him so directly. His mind swam with questions, but he remained silent. The voice of the wind was right, there was nothing for him here, nothing more important than his duty to Him, at least. Molach needed him and he would answer the call, all former allegiance to the king set aside. Opening his eyes he looked upwards into the stinging rain, squinting to see how powerfully the wind lashed the great gums around him.
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