Holy Miley Cyrus on a spike this is bad. I don't have my computer yet, but I want in so I'm gonna make a character and hope I get it before this starts.
Name: Felon Aldrious
Age: 22
Gender: Male
Appearance: Standing at an average height of 5' 11", there is little that makes Felon stand out from a crowd. He has medium length brown hair and sapphire blue eyes. His upper body is thinly built, though the muscles are easy to spot, due to the development of his arms and chest from pulling a long bow. His legs follow this same build, remaining small, though firmly built.
His body is mostly unmarked in terms of blemishes and scars, though he does have an old puncture scar from a stray arrow that hit him in an old battle. The reason for his lack of scars is due to his being an archer, thus escaping most the battles he has been in with little more than a scratch.
Equipment: A light leather armour, usually dyed to the environment they are fighting in. It is form fitting, yet loose enough to give him the manoeuvrability he needs to move in a battle, usually moving from one cover to the next. He carries a longbow with a few decorative carvings, though nothing fancy. As backup he carries two daggers, though he hasn't seen much fighting with those. They are usually used, instead, to pry arrowheads from armour and skin. Instead of a helmet, he wears a hood. This serves to block the wind from his eyes and isn't as restrictive on his sight as a large or medium helmet would be.
Personality: Felon is a romantic, religious and poetic man and remains solemn on the battlefield. He takes no pleasure in battles and because of that, he favours his bow over anything else the armoury has to offer. After a battle, if there is time, he is sure to pray for the departure of the dead and bless his comrades and friend's bodies, hoping that their souls would make it to the afterlife. His pack is full of parchment, recording small stories and poems of battle, not portraying glory, but rather sorrow.
Among friends he is a man to provoke thought and intrigue, never offering a straight answers, always looking at the philosophical side of things. He holds his and others' lives sacred and will defend an innocent even if it means his death. He wasn't always this forlorn though, only after losing his wife and young son. He has refused to remarry, or even court a new woman, instead resigning himself to be alone forever. For this, he appears cold and detached, but in reality, simply wishes not to feel the pain of loss again.
Backstory: Felon was raised to be a warrior, his family always knowing the trials of being in the army. A military family through and through, not knowing happiness, but at the end of a sword. His family knew honour in war; blessing Paryn with the blood of their foes and feasting with Frebal in their deaths. It was a simple life, but one that they were familiar with. Felon was no different, only deviating enough to prefer a bow rather than the large sword his father carried. This caused tension between he and his father, the latter believing that an archer was the coward of the battlefield, preying on those who could not reach him. This caused the once close pair to drift apart, barely talking, even while they trained side by side. It was this way for many years, Felon's mother playing the part of a diplomat between the two men as they simmered at each other from across the house, the table, the sparring course. It was truly sad, the neighbours said, to see the loss of a once great relationship between father and son. And only because of a bow and a stubbornness bred many years into their blood.
Felon's father was the first of his family in the many years that had been recorded, to not fall in battle. In his older age, he instead came down with a fever, during the coldest months of the year. He shook, even when the frost broke, a shadow of his former self and a broken shell of the powerful man Felon had once looked up to as the pinnacle of strength and bravery. It was late in the night when Felon was called to his father's side. His father's tired eyes looked upon him, the many winters reflected on his worn face and sad features. He took his son's hand in his own and looked into the young teen's eyes. Their words were unspoken and yet they both understood. The hard heartedness had melted between them in the moment where they had almost been lost forever. His father muttered a small blessing, trvial, perhaps to the great speeches made by his forefathers before him, but to Felon, it meant more than any other words spoken by the great man. His father was burned, like his fathers before him and sent to Frebal's halls in hope he would be accepted for his accomplishments. And Felon was left to wander the Earth alone. His mother wasted away without the love of her life and her flower, her boy was left even deeper in the shadow than ever before, so tragic was the life of Felon.
One light came into his life. A young woman by the name of Katrina came into sight, her radiance blinding the lost man. All it took was a look into her beautiful grey eyes and he knew that he had found the woman of his life. The two were inseparable, the pinnacle of puppy love, until the fateful day that they were wed to the cheers or comrades and friends. Felon's life was no longer a simple tragedy, there was reason to live once again. Another reason soon arrived after that in a son, another strong boy born into his house. His name was Ryan and he became the pride of Felon's life. Teaching him the way of the bow and the sword. Teaching him how to track and to hunt and the boy was always eager to learn. At 6 he was a force to be reckoned with. Felon was truly happy, his father's blessing coming true at last.
His life was shattered once again. He could not recover from this loss, there would be no simple solution from this one. His love, his pride both taken from him in a raid; the raid. He remembered the screams, the fires that riddled the area, claiming lives, not bias in who it took from the world. He remembered clawing through the wood, feeling the flames lick his clothes and skin. He remembered looking at the horrified expression on his son's face, as he was taken from this world, too young to leave a legacy and too soon for his father who cried to the heavens in anger at what his life had become.
So he devoted himself to the Gods. This was the only way he knew how to cope, throwing away attachment seemed like the only way he could let go and so he did, releasing himself to whatever God happened to snap him up. He began to write, spread the pains of war to those who knew none. He hated the happiness that came to some during war. War was only a painful necessity, not something to be rejoicing in. And so this is the way Felon remains. Lost, alone and one to try to spread his message until he submits to the Void himself. His line ends with him.
Extras: Felon tends to spread his works across the camp, hoping, not to convert, but rather raise awareness of the loss because of war. The reason he chooses to do this, is to avoid the blood lusting that had begun to become commonplace amongst the army he served with. The degree of this is perhaps less than what he assumes, but he chooses to do this anyway
Edit: Yes I realize my backstory is long, but I had a creative outburst due to not having my laptop for a week. Villager sheet will be up tomorrow. I have huge plans for her.
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