This is the hot mess i'm working on very slowly lol
Name:
Ahren Bastion
Race:
Elf
Gender:
Male
Date of Birth:
Drakonis 9:08 Dragon on the 27th day.
Occupation:
Pirate, Mercinary, Flirt, Smartass
Companion(s): N/A
Hair:
Dark reddish brown. It’s usually kept shorter in the back while his bangs hang long and usually fall into his face.
Eyes:
The typical larger and shiny elven eyes, blue-green in color though most lighting makes them seem a bit more on the green side.
Other:
Golden-brown skin is decorated by black, tribal-like tattoos that cover his entire left arm and part of the left side of his chest; the pattern continues all down the left side of his torso and the marks stop just shy of halfway down his thigh. His right shoulder also sports a smaller, similar pattern, though the design does not spread any further. Two almost dalish looking tattoos stripe his chin and fall down either side of his adam’s apple, stopping just before they reach the collar bone, though the elf has never been anywhere near the dalish to his knowledge.
As if these markings weren’t enough of an identifier, Ahren also has a rather nice scar running across the bridge of his nose at an angle, the one end starting at his right brow while the other stops on his left cheek. He also bears scars on both his wrists and ankles - circular and most likely from cuff wear. Ear cuffs of silver color hang from either ear lobe and his tongue is pierced - the most expensive thing he owns as it’s made of silverite.
For an elf, he also has rather prominent muscle definition despite his genetic slender build - a side effect of years of climbing around in the rigging of various ships as well as lifting such a heavy blade.
Class:
Warrior
Specialization:
None
Weapons & Armor:
Weapons:
His most commonly seen weapon is a long handled veridium scimitar style greatsword, almost Dalish in style - the blade on its end a bit more slender but not any lighter than a standard greatsword. This sword has no hand guard and with its long and more sleek design can possibly be confused with that of a bladed mage staff. Equipped with a novice fire rune, the enchantment is held securely right where the blade meets the handle.The blade is a dark green color and the binding about the handle is a rich dark purple.
Usual Garments/Armor:
Men’s peasant shirts in various colors though he usually sticks to moss green, black or beige. These shirts are usually complemented by a pair of black and gray striped cloth pants and tall leather boots with buckles on them. He can also be seen wearing a brown “captain’s” hat (complete with feather) with a green scarf underneath, although he doesn’t actually own any seaworthy craft to speak of. If it’s cold, oftentimes a dark colored cape is brought out that he will wrap about his neck and shoulders. Armor is simplistic in style, studded leather covering one shoulder and upper arm with a leather belt going over his chest that holds his greatsword to his back.
There are other times where he choses a more “nudist” style of attire - not at all shy to simply walk around in his small clothes if the weather is nice enough.
Languages:
Common/Kings tongue, Antivian, a slew of swears in other languages. He’s very good at mimicking accents in Common and does this often.
Non-Combat Skills:
Ahren will use his fists first and foremost when it comes to fighting and he knows how to throw his weight around to get that opportunistic shot. The longsword in most instances is for show purposes although that isn’t to say he doesn’t know how to use it. Long years of rowing and sailing on ships have built up well defined muscle on his entire body. What started out as playful musings between two shipmates with mop handles, eventually turned into actual combat training and Ahren has since taken a liking to swinging around the long handled greatsword with seeming ease.
Act first, think later. This is a rule that governs Ahren’s life now. Impulses are something that lead him from one daily activity to the next and he isn’t afraid to act on them. More often than not this leads to him opening his fat mouth on something stupid or getting into someone’s personal space. Cocksure and very into himself in the sense that he takes quite a lot of pride in his own appearance. Not into all the “elfy” bullshit. An eye for an eye sort of outlook on life that has him unafraid to throw the first punch, be it with words or physical.
Ahren is also an active templar hater, and may or may not have in the past goaded a few into believing that he was a mage - his weapon not entirely unacceptable for a “mage staff” and all the more convincing with its fire rune. So far he has been lucky in the sense that his antics have not gotten him sent to Aeonar, although he has been detained a number of times. Mages on the other hand, have an automatic in with the man and he is rather fascinated with being able to see people casting magic.
This elf is also in it for the money. Ahr will do almost anything for a bit of coin and isn’t really ashamed to do so. Money means power and a voice and while he may seem frivolous in the way he acts he is actually quite slow to spend even a copper.
Timeline:
Born to parents unknown but clearly twins, Ahren and Emia were brought up in an orphanage in Bastion, Antiva, and what should have continued to be a life of simplicity and poverty changed the moment Emia was discovered to be quite the little songbird. A sweet melodic little voice that turned a few heads; and around the age of five the pair was officially “adopted” into a wealthier family - The Noguerra family. Adopted hardly meant a loving family however and the two siblings quickly realized their purpose in life was to increase the intake of coin. Money was spent to ensure both knew how to speak common as well as know their letters well enough to write their own names (for autographs). Reading and writing beyond this however was restricted. Emia received vocal training where Ahren was put to the test on finding out if he had any natural hidden talents. While not a natural like his sister, he still had an ear for music and took to the violin rather quickly. A sweet duet between siblings was formed and they quickly brought in the coin their “family” sought, touring about Antiva and just outside its borders for profit.
It wasn’t until after the twins turned ten that things changed and rather drastically at that. A large fire erupted in the village the two were performing at, starting at a residence just down the street from the tavern they had been instructed to perform at. To this day, Ahren can recall the feel of heat as if the flames had been alive and ready to lick their heels. A dry spell had clenched its hand over the town and the fire spread quickly causing a quick swell of panic and confusion from the locals - so much so, that Ahren and Emia were separated and the young elf found himself quite lost and alone.
The next five years are ones that pass in a blur to Ahren now and are memories he has long since tried to forget. Lured by the sweet temptation of a ripe red apple by a seemingly kind hand, the young elf was scooped from the streets with nary a trace left behind. No one would mourn his missing, proven by the fact that slavery held its grip on him until he was fifteen. Get up. Eat whatever he could find. Row to the sound of chains keeping a beat and the smell of salty ocean just outside but forever out of sight. Keep your head down so you wouldn’t get beat. Sleep. Start all over again the next day.
The lucky ones got sold at the next port and some other poor sod would begrudgingly take up the empty position, either bought or obtained by other nefarious means. Time meant nothing. There was only room in your brain for keeping the pace of rowing, taking breaks only when the wind hit just the right spot. The unlucky ones became keepsakes of the Captain, marked on their chins with a tattoo so that they could be reclaimed should they ever escape. Ahren’s red hair and jeweled eyes had him earning such a tattoo almost as soon as his bare feet had hit the deck.
Ahren’s luck would change as well as his fate almost as abruptly as the fire that led him to the sea soon after he turned fifteen. There were many who traversed the open seas with a bad taste in their mouths for slavery, and such a ship happened upon the one he had resigned his life to. An exchange of cannon fire and suddenly he could see the vast horizon against the swell of waves
Name:
Ahren Bastion
Race:
Elf
Gender:
Male
Date of Birth:
Drakonis 9:08 Dragon on the 27th day.
Occupation:
Pirate, Mercinary, Flirt, Smartass
Companion(s): N/A
Dark reddish brown. It’s usually kept shorter in the back while his bangs hang long and usually fall into his face.
Eyes:
The typical larger and shiny elven eyes, blue-green in color though most lighting makes them seem a bit more on the green side.
Other:
Golden-brown skin is decorated by black, tribal-like tattoos that cover his entire left arm and part of the left side of his chest; the pattern continues all down the left side of his torso and the marks stop just shy of halfway down his thigh. His right shoulder also sports a smaller, similar pattern, though the design does not spread any further. Two almost dalish looking tattoos stripe his chin and fall down either side of his adam’s apple, stopping just before they reach the collar bone, though the elf has never been anywhere near the dalish to his knowledge.
As if these markings weren’t enough of an identifier, Ahren also has a rather nice scar running across the bridge of his nose at an angle, the one end starting at his right brow while the other stops on his left cheek. He also bears scars on both his wrists and ankles - circular and most likely from cuff wear. Ear cuffs of silver color hang from either ear lobe and his tongue is pierced - the most expensive thing he owns as it’s made of silverite.
For an elf, he also has rather prominent muscle definition despite his genetic slender build - a side effect of years of climbing around in the rigging of various ships as well as lifting such a heavy blade.
Warrior
Specialization:
None
Weapons & Armor:
Weapons:
His most commonly seen weapon is a long handled veridium scimitar style greatsword, almost Dalish in style - the blade on its end a bit more slender but not any lighter than a standard greatsword. This sword has no hand guard and with its long and more sleek design can possibly be confused with that of a bladed mage staff. Equipped with a novice fire rune, the enchantment is held securely right where the blade meets the handle.The blade is a dark green color and the binding about the handle is a rich dark purple.
Usual Garments/Armor:
Men’s peasant shirts in various colors though he usually sticks to moss green, black or beige. These shirts are usually complemented by a pair of black and gray striped cloth pants and tall leather boots with buckles on them. He can also be seen wearing a brown “captain’s” hat (complete with feather) with a green scarf underneath, although he doesn’t actually own any seaworthy craft to speak of. If it’s cold, oftentimes a dark colored cape is brought out that he will wrap about his neck and shoulders. Armor is simplistic in style, studded leather covering one shoulder and upper arm with a leather belt going over his chest that holds his greatsword to his back.
There are other times where he choses a more “nudist” style of attire - not at all shy to simply walk around in his small clothes if the weather is nice enough.
Languages:
Common/Kings tongue, Antivian, a slew of swears in other languages. He’s very good at mimicking accents in Common and does this often.
Non-Combat Skills:
- Strong Swimmer
- A bit of an artist - speed sketches when it suits his fancy and he has a bit of charcoal
- Knows how to whistle
- Able to write his first name very well, though not much more than that.
- Skilled at knotwork
- Sailing
- Stamina
- Stoning
Ahren will use his fists first and foremost when it comes to fighting and he knows how to throw his weight around to get that opportunistic shot. The longsword in most instances is for show purposes although that isn’t to say he doesn’t know how to use it. Long years of rowing and sailing on ships have built up well defined muscle on his entire body. What started out as playful musings between two shipmates with mop handles, eventually turned into actual combat training and Ahren has since taken a liking to swinging around the long handled greatsword with seeming ease.
Ahren is also an active templar hater, and may or may not have in the past goaded a few into believing that he was a mage - his weapon not entirely unacceptable for a “mage staff” and all the more convincing with its fire rune. So far he has been lucky in the sense that his antics have not gotten him sent to Aeonar, although he has been detained a number of times. Mages on the other hand, have an automatic in with the man and he is rather fascinated with being able to see people casting magic.
This elf is also in it for the money. Ahr will do almost anything for a bit of coin and isn’t really ashamed to do so. Money means power and a voice and while he may seem frivolous in the way he acts he is actually quite slow to spend even a copper.
Born to parents unknown but clearly twins, Ahren and Emia were brought up in an orphanage in Bastion, Antiva, and what should have continued to be a life of simplicity and poverty changed the moment Emia was discovered to be quite the little songbird. A sweet melodic little voice that turned a few heads; and around the age of five the pair was officially “adopted” into a wealthier family - The Noguerra family. Adopted hardly meant a loving family however and the two siblings quickly realized their purpose in life was to increase the intake of coin. Money was spent to ensure both knew how to speak common as well as know their letters well enough to write their own names (for autographs). Reading and writing beyond this however was restricted. Emia received vocal training where Ahren was put to the test on finding out if he had any natural hidden talents. While not a natural like his sister, he still had an ear for music and took to the violin rather quickly. A sweet duet between siblings was formed and they quickly brought in the coin their “family” sought, touring about Antiva and just outside its borders for profit.
It wasn’t until after the twins turned ten that things changed and rather drastically at that. A large fire erupted in the village the two were performing at, starting at a residence just down the street from the tavern they had been instructed to perform at. To this day, Ahren can recall the feel of heat as if the flames had been alive and ready to lick their heels. A dry spell had clenched its hand over the town and the fire spread quickly causing a quick swell of panic and confusion from the locals - so much so, that Ahren and Emia were separated and the young elf found himself quite lost and alone.
The next five years are ones that pass in a blur to Ahren now and are memories he has long since tried to forget. Lured by the sweet temptation of a ripe red apple by a seemingly kind hand, the young elf was scooped from the streets with nary a trace left behind. No one would mourn his missing, proven by the fact that slavery held its grip on him until he was fifteen. Get up. Eat whatever he could find. Row to the sound of chains keeping a beat and the smell of salty ocean just outside but forever out of sight. Keep your head down so you wouldn’t get beat. Sleep. Start all over again the next day.
The lucky ones got sold at the next port and some other poor sod would begrudgingly take up the empty position, either bought or obtained by other nefarious means. Time meant nothing. There was only room in your brain for keeping the pace of rowing, taking breaks only when the wind hit just the right spot. The unlucky ones became keepsakes of the Captain, marked on their chins with a tattoo so that they could be reclaimed should they ever escape. Ahren’s red hair and jeweled eyes had him earning such a tattoo almost as soon as his bare feet had hit the deck.
Ahren’s luck would change as well as his fate almost as abruptly as the fire that led him to the sea soon after he turned fifteen. There were many who traversed the open seas with a bad taste in their mouths for slavery, and such a ship happened upon the one he had resigned his life to. An exchange of cannon fire and suddenly he could see the vast horizon against the swell of waves