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Basic Information
Physical Description
As of Winter 512 / Spring 513 (Creation)
Character Concept
As of Winter 512 / Spring 513 (Creation)
Character History
Forthcoming.
The Lores
Name: Oran Cavarcan
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Age: 31
Date of Birth: 41st Summer, 481 A.V.
Place of Birth: Ravok
Language(s): Common - Fluent
Current Occupation: Cook
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Age: 31
Date of Birth: 41st Summer, 481 A.V.
Place of Birth: Ravok
Language(s): Common - Fluent
Current Occupation: Cook
Physical Description
As of Winter 512 / Spring 513 (Creation)
Oran Cavarcan is a man of short stature and average build—well, 'average' for a given value when one's height is closer to being five feet than five and a half. Growing up in Ravok, Oran had found that in any given crowd, his line of sight was considerably lower than everyone else. Unfortunately, this earned him quite a deal of feminine ire in his formative years; after one too many times of being slapped or earning a derisive rant for where Oran was looking (usually simultaneously), he has since learned to keep his gaze focused downward to prevent such altercations from happening. Most of the time, when conversing with someone, he finds that he has to tilt his head back to make eye contact, and the person who has the misfortune to meet his gaze receives an eye-full of mild annoyance at the world in general or, if someone is considerably taller than he, directed at him or her.
The first thing one might notice on seeing Oran's face is how pronounced his frown is and, if one didn't know better, might assume that he could come up with any and every reason to disapprove of something. His forehead wrinkles with the concentration of his innate glower, and large, hairy eyebrows only serves to add to the effect. Thick, coarse brown hair, which is brushed forward and kept short out of a desire for practicality, has begun to prematurely recede in the fringe. Trimmed sideburns outline his jaw and tapers out halfway toward his chin. Brown eyes the same color as his hair are set a little too close together in his small, pinched face. He has a bulbous, down-turned nose that appears to have reddened from prolonged exposure to Syna's light. A smattering of freckles can be found smeared across his face and all over his body, with a majority of them found on his cheeks, arms, legs, and shoulders.
What few articles of clothing Oran owns are all shabby and second-hand, and he does his best to maintain them in an effort to prolong the times when he must use his hard-earned Miza to purchase replacements. Clothes don't seem to fit him well and look to be a few sizes too large: pant cuffs have to be stuffed into his boots or folded up to prevent treading on and ripping the hem; suspenders and a belt are donned to combat sagging pants; shirt sleeves are folded back to the elbow—which exposes the forearm—so that they don't slip down and get in the way of his hands. While Oran doesn't mind that his clothes are a little big on him, he absolutely cannot abide by ill-fitted boots; he has gone out of his way to make sure that any footwear he deems comfortable won't slip off or constrict his feet. Since he's standing or walking for a good portion of any given day, this might not come as a surprise.
The first thing one might notice on seeing Oran's face is how pronounced his frown is and, if one didn't know better, might assume that he could come up with any and every reason to disapprove of something. His forehead wrinkles with the concentration of his innate glower, and large, hairy eyebrows only serves to add to the effect. Thick, coarse brown hair, which is brushed forward and kept short out of a desire for practicality, has begun to prematurely recede in the fringe. Trimmed sideburns outline his jaw and tapers out halfway toward his chin. Brown eyes the same color as his hair are set a little too close together in his small, pinched face. He has a bulbous, down-turned nose that appears to have reddened from prolonged exposure to Syna's light. A smattering of freckles can be found smeared across his face and all over his body, with a majority of them found on his cheeks, arms, legs, and shoulders.
What few articles of clothing Oran owns are all shabby and second-hand, and he does his best to maintain them in an effort to prolong the times when he must use his hard-earned Miza to purchase replacements. Clothes don't seem to fit him well and look to be a few sizes too large: pant cuffs have to be stuffed into his boots or folded up to prevent treading on and ripping the hem; suspenders and a belt are donned to combat sagging pants; shirt sleeves are folded back to the elbow—which exposes the forearm—so that they don't slip down and get in the way of his hands. While Oran doesn't mind that his clothes are a little big on him, he absolutely cannot abide by ill-fitted boots; he has gone out of his way to make sure that any footwear he deems comfortable won't slip off or constrict his feet. Since he's standing or walking for a good portion of any given day, this might not come as a surprise.
Character Concept
As of Winter 512 / Spring 513 (Creation)
Oran is not as angry and hostile as he may be perceived on first impressions. Given that his default expression is as dour as it is, this does not matters. True, there are a number of things that can irritate him—such as unsolicited flirting, or, Gods forbid, unsolicited conversation—and he can be cantankerous if pushed too far, but he is not malevolent or unkind. Thoughtful in action and word, he is considerate, and will treat others as he himself is treated. This is especially if it somehow benefits him in the long run.
Such a view works both ways; Oran will help someone who has aided him in the past, but he'll also have no qualms if he were to harm a previous aggressor. There is a catch: the extent to which he will go to return a favor will never involve the promise to end a person's life, under any circumstance. The very idea of seeking someone out to kill them, whether they deserve it or not, is detestable to Oran, and goes against his pragmatic principles. If, however, he were confronted with a person bent on taking his life, Oran would consider braining the would-be-assassin as self-defense and not outright murder.
Being a quiet man, it's not unknown for him to come across as gruff and unwilling to communicate, as though he wishes to keep his thoughts and feelings to himself. In some cases, this is true. Most of the time, though, it's more a matter of not having much to say, when all is said and done. To him, he is tacit in nature, and assumes that what little he says can be correctly inferred. This isn't always successful, and can leave all parties involved to draw their own conclusions that don't match up with what he's thinking.
In his own subdued way, Oran is amiable, as he'll talk to (almost) anyone and everyone—he just won't say much. He is polite, and helpful up to a point; while he'll assist those who are struggling with carrying a package or helping someone up off the ground, he's unwilling to put himself in a lethal situation where he could potentially be hurt in the process of, say, rescuing a foreigner from being ganged-up on, and may even turn a blind eye. This is especially true if the person in question is obviously not human.
Like most native Ravokians, he won't trust or initiate conversations with non-humans and obvious foreigners, as they are outsiders, don't belong and, to him, should probably leave before a fellow Ravokian decides that they'd fetch a pretty copper in the slave market. Oh, he'll talk to them if they stop him to, perhaps, ask for directions, but suspicion on what their business is in Ravok will occur to him, and his responses would be guarded. During such an interaction, a sense of tension and unease would settle in Oran—a kind of wary vigilance that attempts to determine where the conversation might lead, and hoping like mad that it doesn't contain a drawn weapon and the words: "Hand over all your Miza." This level of distrust of foreigners and non-humans has been instilled in him from a very young age, from his belief in the words of the Black Sun, The Voice, and the Ebonstryfe.
There is an implicit trust in the Ravok government; as a natural-born native in the small, floating city, Oran has grown up knowing the relative comfort and safety provided for all citizens from both the Ebonstryfe and Rhysol. It has not yet occurred to him that those in power have been twisting the nature of reality with their lies and half-truths in order to better maintain control over the populace—other than the opposition in the form of the myserious group called the Rising Dawn, there has been little to no reason for Oran to believe the worst in his government. In fact, because of the attack initiated by this group on the Temple of the Black, and the carnage they left behind, Oran is fully convinced that they're a terrorist group threatening the peace of the city.
Such a view works both ways; Oran will help someone who has aided him in the past, but he'll also have no qualms if he were to harm a previous aggressor. There is a catch: the extent to which he will go to return a favor will never involve the promise to end a person's life, under any circumstance. The very idea of seeking someone out to kill them, whether they deserve it or not, is detestable to Oran, and goes against his pragmatic principles. If, however, he were confronted with a person bent on taking his life, Oran would consider braining the would-be-assassin as self-defense and not outright murder.
Being a quiet man, it's not unknown for him to come across as gruff and unwilling to communicate, as though he wishes to keep his thoughts and feelings to himself. In some cases, this is true. Most of the time, though, it's more a matter of not having much to say, when all is said and done. To him, he is tacit in nature, and assumes that what little he says can be correctly inferred. This isn't always successful, and can leave all parties involved to draw their own conclusions that don't match up with what he's thinking.
In his own subdued way, Oran is amiable, as he'll talk to (almost) anyone and everyone—he just won't say much. He is polite, and helpful up to a point; while he'll assist those who are struggling with carrying a package or helping someone up off the ground, he's unwilling to put himself in a lethal situation where he could potentially be hurt in the process of, say, rescuing a foreigner from being ganged-up on, and may even turn a blind eye. This is especially true if the person in question is obviously not human.
Like most native Ravokians, he won't trust or initiate conversations with non-humans and obvious foreigners, as they are outsiders, don't belong and, to him, should probably leave before a fellow Ravokian decides that they'd fetch a pretty copper in the slave market. Oh, he'll talk to them if they stop him to, perhaps, ask for directions, but suspicion on what their business is in Ravok will occur to him, and his responses would be guarded. During such an interaction, a sense of tension and unease would settle in Oran—a kind of wary vigilance that attempts to determine where the conversation might lead, and hoping like mad that it doesn't contain a drawn weapon and the words: "Hand over all your Miza." This level of distrust of foreigners and non-humans has been instilled in him from a very young age, from his belief in the words of the Black Sun, The Voice, and the Ebonstryfe.
There is an implicit trust in the Ravok government; as a natural-born native in the small, floating city, Oran has grown up knowing the relative comfort and safety provided for all citizens from both the Ebonstryfe and Rhysol. It has not yet occurred to him that those in power have been twisting the nature of reality with their lies and half-truths in order to better maintain control over the populace—other than the opposition in the form of the myserious group called the Rising Dawn, there has been little to no reason for Oran to believe the worst in his government. In fact, because of the attack initiated by this group on the Temple of the Black, and the carnage they left behind, Oran is fully convinced that they're a terrorist group threatening the peace of the city.
Character History
Forthcoming.
The Lores
- Cooking: Basic Preparation of Lake Ravok Fish
- Lore of Ravok Culture