Physical Description
Measuring 6 '8, Aren is a tower of a man by the standards of almost any race, except his own. His skin is a blue hue, like that of most of his kind, and he is lean and muscular, like most of his kind. He keeps his hair cut short (a necessary byproduct of his weapon of choice), his scythe strapped to his back at almost all times (when not in or expecting combat), and his Lakan sheathed at his waist. His sun colored eyes, accented by his blue skin might come off as creepy to some, especially when standing in the shade, but he is always ready to offer a reassuring smile to those individuals. Ironically, it is possible this might make him seem creepier.
Aren sports two scars from his youth. On his right thigh is an oval shaped arrow wound, and around the bicep of his left arm is a laceration acquired from a glassbeak's maw. The one on his leg is generally obscured by clothing, but the one on his arm, because of his short vest, is plain for all to see.
He has a third scar on his right cheek, received in yet another tangle with a glassbeak. This one is much more recent, however, being less than two decades old. There's also a series of claw marks on his back and shoulder area, suffered at the hands of a particularly vicious wolf.
Arm and Leg Scar (Acquired Summer, 414 AV)
Cheek Scar (Acquired Summer, 499 AV)
Shoulder Scars (Acquired Winter, 514 AV)
Basic Information
Race: Akalak
Birthday & Age : Born 10th of Summer, 399 AV - 115 years old.
Gender: Male
Height: 6 feet, 8 inches
Weight: 250 lbs.
Injuries: None, at the moment.
Concept
Aren is, by and large, a jovial, hundred year old giant. He would be the first to crack a joke in a tense situation, and the first to laugh at himself in an embarrassing moment. That is not to say that he is a jester, however. In his more than a century of life, he has seen and experienced much, causing him to wax philosophical from time to time. Being a warrior by trade, he doesn't hesitate to engage in combat when he considers it the best course of action, but he doesn't necessarily consider fighting to always be the first, or only option.
Aren's Other (or dark side) is called Seros. He emerged when the akalak was just a boy (specifically during his Trial), and has never stopped plaguing him since. Seros is considered by Aren to be a highly volatile, highly dangerous sociopath, essentially making them exact opposites. He is also incredibly intelligent, more so than his brother, and they both know it. Fortunately, however, Aren is the dominant personality, which galls Seros to no end. This is, in fact, a very good thing, because Aren believes his darker brother would not hesitate to slaughter everyone in the vicinity, should he ever find himself free of his shackles.
History
Son of a warrior father and a warrior mother, Aren 's path in life was pretty much set from the moment he was born. Barring any unforeseen turn of events, he would be a warrior. His mother, however, didn't want him to be just any warrior. She wanted him to be what she couldn't achieve in her own short life: not simply an adept of the blade, but one which combined weapon and elemental power both. Such a warrior, she though, would be formidable indeed.
Never did his mother allow her child to be wrested from her, safe or not, even after almost dying in childbirth. Neither as her husband nor as the child's father did the man she married ever gain that right. Of course, he saw it as Eypharian stubbornness and egotism, but he also didn't doubt her ability to protect both her child and herself, with equal measures of ferocity. She had been a Hawk, after all, once upon a time.
From the moment little Aren could walk, both his mother and father were at his side. Not to catch him, should he fall, but to make sure he was quick about getting up. His father taught him the scythe (an odd weapon, but one whose shortcomings can be mitigated by the natural abilities of the Akalak) while his mother taught him Reimancy, and how to use both in unison. Unfortunately, she wasn't much of a teacher, and he wasn't much of a student.
Until his 15th birthday, Aren spent much of his time trying to avoid his mother and her damned lessons. Magic, he thought, was a difficult to grasp, nigh useless concept. Of course, making such a comment around her would incite curses of blue skinned idiocy, and lack of proper manners. Aren always found the hypocritical nature of his mother's rants amusing, assuming he was a good distance away from her, preferably behind some cover. When he didn't show up for a lesson, his father knew better than to remain within throwing distance of his wife; six arms could fling an awful lot of crap, awfully fast. Eventually, though, all children have to grow up, and Aren was forced to grow up slightly more forcefully than most.
All Akalak boys take their Rite of Trial at the age of fifteen, when they must take down a glassbeak devoid of any outside assistance. Aren, of course, was no exception, and took the Trial with others of his age.
The boys stalked a lone glassbeak who was in turn stalking something of it's own. They decided to strike when the animal was itself preparing to spring it's own ambush on it's unsuspecting prey, but the fates would not have it so.
The moment was almost at hand, but a sudden and rapid change of wind, as was known to happen in the Sea of Grass, gave rise to disaster. The glassbeak they hunted promptly picked up their scent, it's head swiveling towards the source of this new odor. Almost like it could smell the fear emanating from it's would be hunters, the creature charged, throwing the group of boys into a panic. Aren promptly gave the order to flee, as the element of surprise had been lost, but he had forgotten something; glassbeaks were fast.
The beast was upon them in moments, and one of the group, Aren's own friend, had found himself paralyzed by fear. He hadn't run with the others, and now stood directly in the path of the glassbeak, just waiting to die. Realizing his friend was not among the fleeing boys, Aren looked back just in time to see Neri assaulted by their supposed prey, but too late to do anything about it.
His friend was dead before he could even utter a syllable, his head crushed between two massive beaks. To make matters worse, the glassbeak was not alone. A pack of it's fellows had been at it's side all along, hidden in the grass, stalking a herd of herbivores. Now they were busy driving that herd towards their waiting brothers, and the unsuspecting group of Akalak boys.
The beast that had killed his friend was not, it seemed, sated by it's deed, and pressed onward, on a direct course for the rest of Aren's friends. It closed in on another of the boys who was simply too slow, but Aren was determined not to see another friend fall this day. He charged at the animal hoping, not to kill it, for that was a foolish hope, but to slow it down. Though successful in his endeavor, the friend he sought to save found his life stolen nonetheless, by another of the beasts.
At this particular junction, rage and anger had nearly overwhelmed both Aren's fear and caution, and he sought not to survive, but simply to kill these damnable monstrosities. Fortunately for him, another of the boys had desisted in fleeing and had made his way back to help his beleaguered friend. Together, they brought one of the beasts down, but the celebration was short lived.
As Aren prepared to deal the killing blow to the glassbeak, Larenth, his friend, and the person who had just saved his life, suddenly let loose an arrow meant for his companion's leg. His dark side had awakened, his Other, now of all times, and it's aim was true.
Aren reeled in pain and confusion, but the glassbeak he loomed over was not about to give him a moment's rest, however. Before the young Akalak had even realized what was going on, the creature had snapped hold of his arm with a desperate lunge. At this point Aren, and his own Other, who was itself coming awake, had pretty much thrown in the towel. Larenth, on his side, was knocking another arrow into his bow, his target looking distinctly like Aren's general head area. Fortunately for said target, that wasn't it at all, and the arrow flew over and into the body of the glassbeak with the grabby hands. With a sigh of relief, Aren proceeded to try and bash himself free of the weakened beast, eventually managing to finally bring an end to the avian nightmare.
He had passed his Trial, now he just needed to survive it. |
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![[Verified by Traverse]](./images/checkmark.png "[Verified by Traverse]")
Aren Anazasz 
by Aren on May 29th, 2010, 5:34 am 
