Name:
Arion'selthar Val'Sarghress
(As I already told you in the PM, I won't use him 'til Sarissa is out of the way)
Race:
Drowolath
Age:
436
Description:
For a male Drowolath, Arion stands rather tall, around 6 feet. His body is muscular and well-trained, while his face is rather soft. From his looks, you would say he is in his mid-twenties. He has purple eyes, and his shoulder-length plain white hair is most often tied back in a low ponytail. He wears below mentioned outfit most of times. He has two scars, one on his belly, centered more to the left, about 2cm long, and a longer one ranging from his back, over his right hip, ending shortly before the belly.
Weapon/Armor kept on person/worn:
-A slightly curved, long sword(Katana-like, although the curve is really flat), measuring 1,60 meters complete, where the blade is about 1,40 meters and the handle rather long, about 0,15-0,20 meters. The blade, however, is only a bit over one inch wide. It seems to be made out of repeatedly folded iron, a true masterpiece, and designed for either one- or two-handed use, if the person is strong enough to wield it with one hand. The handle itself is slightly curved, too, made out of ivory, polished, decorated with gold and silver symbols, worked directly into the ivory. A single, blood red gem is set into the pommel, just where blade and handle meet. However, the gem does not seem to have any magical properties, while it is indeed capable of storing magic. It is stored in a rather simple scabbard of lizards leather, strapped to the back.
-A rather short sword, the blade measuring 50cm in length, and the handle about 10cm, for a total of around 60cm. The blade is about two inch wide, made out of Adamantium, and it is forged from one piece, rather than attaching the handle to the blade. However, the handle is covered with surface leather, as it would be a pain to wield a blade on a metal handle. The leather is covered with symbols in gold and silver. They seem to be the same symbols than those adorning the handle of Arion's other sword, just smaller, and stitched with gold and silver yarn, rather than worked into the handle with metal. Also kept in a rather simple scabbard of lizards leather, strapped to the belt, this time.
-A harness, complete with shoulder pads and bracers. The top part, including the shoulder pads and covering his neck and chest is made out of studded lizards leather, worn over a shirt made out of two layers spidersilk, with one layer chainmail worked in between. The bracers are just made of one layer of spider silk to allow maximum movabillity of the arms. On both shoulders is the symbol of the Val'Sarghress, however, not the new one, the strange black blade, but the red blade with a tarantula clawing to it, on white ground. The parts of the harness that are not made out of leather are red with the occasional black line, while the lizards leather is of a deep black with iron rivets, with only two white, round spots on both shoulders where the Val'Sarghress clan symbol is set.
-A pair of trousers fitting to the harness, made out of one layer of spider silk, again, red with the occasional black line or stripe.
-A pair of gloves, made out of hardened leather, yet they do not cover the fingers. Instead, they each have an iron plait set upon the back, to protect a hand clutching a sword as good as possible from any blows. The iron plait on the right glove again has the old Val'Sarghress clan symbol worked into it with acid and painted red.
-A pair of black boots, made of hardened leather with a thin layer of iron worked into. They are heavier than normal boots, yet as light as possible while opting for better defence of the feet.
-A cape braided with gold on the borders. It has a hood, and the only decoration besides the braided gold on the borders, is again the old symbol of the Val'Sarghress, the red tarantula clawing upon a red blade. It is taking up nearly all the back of the cape.
Equipment kept on person:
-A pouch on his belt, containing 100 Ada
(Yes, he does not carry around anything else than his weapons and his Ada.)
Stored in his room in the Val'Sarghress fortress:
-A complete suit of armor of the Val'Sarghress Highland Raiders. It has the typical brownish color, a visor that can shut golemised or manually, blade's on the right forearm than can be drawn out manually or golemised, a round shield attached to the left forearm, and is made of iron, and leather on the spots that are vital for moving. It is, as every Highland Raider Armor, designed to seal of the entire body if the need arises, and is form fitting to be worn a long time. It seems a bit dusty, yet not dirty, as if it was cleaned sometimes, but not worn in quite some time.
-A light blade, fitting to the armor, long yet light and fine. It seems to be made of iron. Like the armor, it seems to be taken good care of, yet was not used in quite some time.
-300 more Ada.
-Paper, Ink and feathers, everything needed for writing.
-a few bandages, although nothing expect for some strong alcohol that could be used for treating/preventing infection.
-A few gems usable for storing magic.
Magic:
High Arts, especially talented in Fire. (I do not intend to do power gaming or run around killing people, be it player or npc. It just was most convenient, as will be seen in the background.)
Beginning City:
Chel'el'sussoloth
Clan:
Val'Sarghress, former commoner, son of merchants.
Profession:
He was educated as a Faern, but most assume he is a Sarghtlin. Detailed explanation in Background.
Background:
Arion'selthar Val'Sarghress was born roughly 436 years ago. But he was not born with that name, especially since the Sarghress were not yet a clan in that moment of time. He was born as Arion Therone, son of a non-noble, but quite wealthy merchant. His mother was a commoner, while he never knew who his father was. But, with his mother being a commoner, his education was quite different from those most nobles receive.
While his mother had hopped for a daughter, she was satisfied with Arion. She raised him, sometimes like a caring mother, sometimes strict. She taught him that strength was what mattered, not from what bloodline you are born. She taught him that he should never judge someone for their stand in society, but always for their strength, in body as well as in mind, as you need to combine both to be really strong.
At first, his mother intended to educate him as a merchant, so he could continue her business in time to come. But soon, she discovered that little Arion had a far to fiery spirit to waste his life as merchant. He even seemed to have quite some potential for magic, managing to create a small light in his hand as he was roughly 6 or 7 years old. Quite a feat for a young male commoner.
So, she continued to raise him with all the love, strength and guidance, and faith in Sharess he would need for the path she decided for him. As he reached the age of ten, his mother paid quite a sum of money, only to let him study at Orthobbae and become a Faern. Of course, he was more than just exited about that. He had never interacted more than a bit of small talk with other children, and now he would visit classes with dozens of them.
Also, he was exited to learn to harness and control Mana. He was aware what it had cost his mother to give him this opportunity, just another proof that she wished him the best a mother could wish, even if he was a male. He did not intend to let his mother down on that. At first, he only roughly interacted with other children, instead putting as much of his energy possible into learning.
And soon, his efforts began to show. While most other children in his class were nobles, after a short while, he was top of class in just about every subject he took. It quickly showed he was most proficient in the path of sorcery that best matched his fiery temper. Fire Sorcery. While not actually managing any spell in that path, as he would have to master the basics first, he could at least conjure a tiny ball of flame in his hands, barely enough to ignite anything.
Only a few other children in his class managed as much so early in their training as Faern. But, of course, everything soon proved to have a downside. While he was proud with himself for his progress, this only added fuel to fire for the other children. Most shunned him already because he was a commoner, that was only allowed to study here because his mother was quite wealthy and had paid quite a sum, but that he beat them to nearly everything was the final straw for most.
At first, they only ignored him, but that did not bother him then. He had made no effort so far to even talk to someone except the teachers. Instead, he still put about as much effort into learning as possible, amazing quite a few of his teachers in the progress. He seemed to absorb everything they told and taught him, yet demand for more.
On one occasion, when they had the two days off from school, he went to his mother, and he asked her if he could receive training in swordsmanship, too. She pondered over this for a while, but he was her only child, and, though she tried, he seemed to be the last for a long time. And, he seemed promising. So she finally agreed to hire a tutor to train him during those two days of every month he had no school.
He put much effort into it, almost as much as he put into studying. Even when he was at Orthobbae, he always used the free time he did not put into studying to become more familiar with sword fighting, but he realized it would take quite some time to accomplish such a feat. Especially since he could not effectively train during his time at Orthobbae. But he used every opportunity he had.
Sadly, this had a side effect. A bad one. While he was determined to become a strong warrior, proficient with both magic and sword, he used up every free minute he had either to study or to train with a sword under the mentor his mother hired. That, effectively meant, he would get lonelier than ever, now that he robbed himself of the last two days per month to spend with his mother.
Sure, he had not played with other kids when he was younger, but at least, he always had his mother to rely on, to speak with, to share sorrows. He began to regret that he was a commoner, and that the other children shunned him. If only he had known then that being shunned could not be the worst. While he continued to be lonely, yet favoured by most teachers, nearly always top of the class, some of the other children began to plot something to pay him back for being a commoner and daring to show them off.
He should discover it soon, however. One day, after a particularly boring day of lessons, four of the other children ambushed him in an empty corridor. He was, even at that time, quite big for a male, but they were four, he was alone, and he was unarmed. First, they only mocked him. However, he came up with the smarter replies. Sadly, that only angered the other kids further. They ganged up on him.
At first, it seemed as if he could manage to fight them off, but soon he began to stumble, finally being restrained by two, while the other two proceeded to beat him up. He was just about to loose consciousness, tasting the blood in his mouth and upon his lips, his vision blurry, as a voice practically thundered through the corridor. "Stop it! Away from him, immediately!" the boys looked up, frightened and surprised, and quickly scattered off.
For there, at the end of the corridor, stood a boy, obviously quite a bit older, something between 20 and 30 years old, possibly. Of course, Arion could not see him. He just lay there, in his own blood, his vision blurred, pain coursing through his body, just before he fell into the sweet embrace of nothingness, losing his consciousness.
The other boy walked over to him, checking him over frankly, before he picked him up and carried Arion away, through quite a number of corridors, until they reached the quarters the other boy shared with another student. The first thing, though, that Arion noticed when he woke up again, was serious headache. Slowly, he opened his eyes, his vision still blurry. He blinked once. No…still blurry. He blinked twice.
Yeah…slowly, everything took clearer shapes. What had happened? Ahh…yes, those boys. He slowly remembered…and sat up in an instant, resulting in his head only getting more dizzy. Bringing one of his hands up to his face, he slowly pressed the palm against his forehead. Just then, he could hear a rather silent snicker, just before he heard a voice. He had heard it before…yeah, in that corridor.
"So, awake again, sleepy-head? We were already thinking you would not wake up anymore, huh?" Lowering his hand, and blinking again, he slowly turned to where that voice came from. He could see a boy, easily twice his age, if not more, who had obviously spoken, standing before another bed, while another boy, probably the one who had snickered, sat cross-legged upon that bed.
"Where am I?" was the only thing Arion responded, slowly rubbing his head. He still had that taste of blood upon his tongue. "Well, obviously, you're in our room. At least that's what I think…right, Arathion?" the boy sitting on the bed replied. The boy standing, who was obviously called Arathion, nodded slowly. "Konar is right. Oh, by the way, we are Arathion and Konar Val'Sharen. You are a commoner, but nevertheless, it would be nice to know your name."
Arion's eyebrows rose suspiciously. Why should a Sharen help him? He voiced his doubts without thinking that he might insult them. However, they both only dissolved into fits of laughter, which only served to further agitate Arion. "What's so funny about that?" he called out, annoyed. However, they only laughed a bit more, before turning serious again.
"You know, not every noble is bad. That would be like saying every commoner is worthless and untalented. You surely don't agree, do you?" Arathion spoke out, although it was obvious he was still amused. "We have heard about you, you know. The teachers are quite amazed. You may not be the best student ever, but for a commoner, you are quite good." Again, it was Arathion who spoke.
The talk went on for hours, Arion finally beginning to trust them. He even told them his name. They offered being friends, watching out for him until he was capable to do it himself. As he asked what they wanted in return, the only reply he got was “You will see when the time is ripe.â€