Arlen Sunstride

[Arlen]

Arlen Sunstride

Race:
Drykas

Birthdate:
Season of Fall, Day 27, 491 AV. (19 years old)

Gender:
Male

Height:
6'2", 185cm

Appearance:

Deep, brown eyes are one thing. Wispy black hair, falling naturally to just above shoulder height is another. Remarkably, what often catches Arlen out is his never-lost grin, a calm, reassuring face that looks as if it were drenched in thought, and a break into hearty chuckle all too often. Upward glances as a mean of sarcasm happen all too often; a lift of his left eyebrow is often an all-convenient sign of humorous understanding. Wiry, lean musculature fill the rest of his body one that might expect of a woodsman than a strongly built knight; a graceful, agile gait completes his movement; and windmarks in a flurry of black waves, extending from his left shoulder blade, to the end of his abdominals.

[Arlen]

The story:

For the love of the Clan, stop grinning like that! - Sillin, Arlen's brother

Feverent daydreamer, and never forgetting to raise his eyebrows alongside a hearty grin, it seemed like Arlen had been born with a habitual fix of curiosity. Born to the Emerald clan, and moving through the great Sea of Grass, the nomadic life of a hunting community was never a physically restful one. But it never seemed to dull young Arlen's vivid solace, sought in the myths his elders told him, the stories his childhood friends whispered beside the campfire, the life experiences his parents repeated to him…he took it all whole-heartedly, and loved conjuring - and reenacting in his spare time - stories of the past.

Often lying in the cool grass, he sought to travel to lands far beyond the Sea of Grass; the tales and fables nudged his eager mind onwards. His daydreaming cut into the imposed dedication to hunting, though, generating plenty of frustration for his father, and always a bit of a teasing matter for his brother, two years his elder. They varied in the way many brothers do: Sillin was proud, and eager to gain reputation as a promising hunter, always boasting of his skills, showing his skill at any competition; Arlen, calm and humourous, more agile than brutish, defying commands and deviating from hunting trails, often paid little attention. Wanderlust never left his mind easily.

Never expect that kid to turn up to anything on time. Or anything planned, really. - Aden, Arlen's father

The years passed, and Arlen grew. Taller, stronger, and somehow unexpectedly, a little more introspective - a quality his parents merely dismissed as much as they accepted he would sometimes run off and find places for games with his friends. But it was not only that. It was an odd knack he found for shifting his body to his will. At first he attributed to adolescence; the musculature of the older hunters intimidated him, and he longed to be that way. Over the time frame of little than a week, he slowly lost the bulk of his thighs, only to realize it had shifted to his arms.

That, he couldn't explain to himself. In fact, it was so drastic, that his parents thought he had contracted a case of wasting; he was ordered to bed rest, and for many weeks, kept to the boredom of his tent. But it was this very crucial time where he realized he could focus his internal energy - djed, the elders called it - and somehow will his body to shift. It was slow at first, taking days; but soon he improved, and it took merely a night - then only hours, to do such subtle shifts.

Arlen regarded this all with great curiosity.

A wonderful talent. A dangerous skill. A delicate art… - Nereh, elder

The days stretched by, and the experimentation didn't go unnoticed. Nereh, an elder, discovered Arlen's talent growing by the day, and gave stern guidance. His parents had no idea; that was good. But the risks of unkempt morphing were too great for Arlen, Nereh decided, and he was given advice to seek out an experienced wizard, and hopefully refine his skill, so to pose no danger to himself and others.

Perhaps it was hard to part, but it was even harder to explain. Eventually, his friends cherished it all. His parents understood. With the blessing of his clan, and the aid of his close ones, he began planning, gathered possessions, and set off.

After all, everything begins somewhere.

Take care, and may Zulrav be with you. - Meri, Arlen's mother

[Arlen]

Skills:

• Morphing, 20
• Riding, 10 (racial)
• Longbow, 10
• Wilderness Survival, 10
• Hunting, 5
• Bowing & Fletching, 5

Languages:

• Fluent: Pavi
• Basic: Common
• Phrased: Grassland Sign

Lore:

• Pre-Valterrian Mizahar
• Common animals in Mizahar

Possessions:

• 10 gold mizas

• An ornamental gold bracelet encrusted with a single small emerald, with three short threads of intricate dangling knot-work hanging by. Given to him by his parents.

Staring pack:

• 1 Set of Clothing (cloak/coat & footwear included)
• 1 Waterskin
• 1 Backpack which contains: 1 Set of Toiletries (comb, brush, razor, soap)
• Food for a week
• 1 eating knife
• Flint & Steel
  
• 1 large tent (4 person)
• large tarp
• 100 ft of rope
• flint & steel
• lantern
• 2 torches
• bedroll, blanket
• fishing tackle & hooks
• a full set of tack
• a large set of saddlebags.

Purchases:

• longbow (75gm)
• leather armour (10gm)
• dagger and scabbard (4gm)
• arrows (1gm)

Horse: a palomino Cyphrus Strider named Taryl.

[Arlen]

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