| First: Aran Race: Half Elven (Gold) Sex: Male Age: 20 (Believed) Class: Unfettered Height: 5'8" Weight: 140 lbs Hair: Copper, cut short Eyes: Blue Skin: Bronzed/Golden Align: Neutral A troubled young man looks up at you from the side of the road. The first thing noticeable is his hair. It is bright red, almost orange, and cut very short. But though that is first, you cannot help but meet his gaze. His eyes seem to be deep blue pits, which, if you allow them, will draw you down into the miseries that they have seen. But it is as if he knows this, or has been beaten, for he quickly breaks eye contact. He is marked by a scar that runs down the right side of his face, from the middle of his eye down across his cheek to his chin, and though you can't see them, numerous scars mar his body. Though he walks along with the grace of a warrior something tells you that he didn't learn it at one of the fashionable academies that teach the noble young. His armor and weapons are old, and look as if they have seen much use. This one learned what he knows from the streets, the fact that he is still alive shows something of his courage and spirit. He moves off into the crowded street and you quickly forget about one more lost soul. Suddenly someone in front of you draws steel and threatens one of the multitudes in the market. Before you, or anyone can react, someone has already leapt through the air and would be thief finds himself under assault. Though he tries to hit the person attacking him, it looks as if he is swinging at air. Suddenly the thug goes stiff and everyone sees a thin blade piercing him from behind. The young man that you noticed before pulls his sword from the corpse and, after quickly wiping blood from it, returns it to his side and continues on his way. Aran, he doesn't know his last name, was raised in the slave pits. His mother was an unknown to him, but he knew through small things, like is eyesight, his height, and his superior hearing, that she was elven. For his entire life his world had been the battle pits, first acting as a servant for the wealthy and later as a fighter. Perhaps it was his elvish blood, but as a slave, he strove to learn all he could that wasn't related to his reality, the fighting and the death. He was intelligent enough to learn dwarvish and orcish from two of the slave masters along with a few other skills that made for a better show. He is a survivor and lived through four seasons at the arena before managing to leave that life. Part of his duties was to entertain the rich with private viewings, and while contracted out to a wealthy widow he managed to escape his captors. They hunted him fiercely and almost got the better of him once, he earned a scar crossing his face, and they an early death. He has been on the road, and on the run, since. Aran has a deep sense of seeing justice done, and an apathy to any involved in the slave trade. He has no qualms of spilling the blood of those that he judges deserving. He has no religion, for belief in anything bigger than this world was beaten out of him as a child. He wishes to one day see mothers people, and perhaps they will be a home to him. Equipment: A plain but serviceable rapier adorns his side, sheathed in plain leather. The rapier was the weapon he was best at in the pits, and this one he took from one of the slavers that came after him. The only decoration seems to be the spiraling guard that protects the hand. Opposite the rapier on his belt sits a main gauche. It too is sheathed plainly, but the well-designed hilt shows that once it may have belonged to a lord but was cast away after falling out of fashion. The thick blade is excellent for parrying or throwing. His leather armor looks like it has seen more battle than anything should. It seems as if mere threads alone hold the piece together. He wears a small backpack that he guards most carefully, as if all that he owns is carried within, for indeed it is. Languages: -Common: The tongue of his unknown father and many of his previous masters. He knows it well and can even write. -Elven: The tongue of his mother. He knows only parts of this wonderful language, and very few letters. His greatest wish is to learn the language and find his mothers people. -Dwarven: The language of the dwarves, a strong language, he knows considerably more of Dwarven than he does Elven, for one of the masters of the pits was a dwarf. Unfortunately that one member has colored his views. He hates the language, and holds no respect for the race. -Orcan: Another language that he knows from the pits. He hates all that speak it, and will try and slay them before talking. |