Azzan Cravenslaar

[Azzan]

Player Name: Orchamedes
Name: Azzan Cravenslaar
Age: 26
Race: Human
Height: 6 foot 6 inches
Weight: 13 Stone ( mostly muscle)

Physical Description:

Azzan is a tall, dark skinned man with short black hair and penetrating blue eyes. He has a wolfish grin and it can often be hard to tell if he is being serious or not because of his often blank mask that he hides behind.
His eye sockets are receded and his eyes often seem darker than they are due to the shadows of his brow playing upon his eyes. His face is gaunt but oddly regal, he can seem aloof and quiet. If he is in a room he will stand at the back and watch the other conversations, always looking for danger – in this way he is quite paranoid.

Possessions:

Azzan wears a grey travel cloak that folds over his leather jerkin and he wears rugged brown pants. He carries two small daggers, one in his boot, the other is tied to his wrist and hidden under his cloak or jerkin. He also has a short sword in a hip scabbard.
Powers or Strengths:
Azzan is a natural brawler, and while he may not be a monk or extraordinarily skilled in close quarters he can hold his own against most foes. He knows how to use his daggers and can use them to fatal effect if pushed too far.

He is Cold and reflective, meaning that he will not rush into a hopeless situation if he can avoid it.

Weaknesses:
If Azzan has one obvious flaw it is his Paranoia. He finds it hard to trust people and therefore makes few friends – but those he does make he is fervently loyal to.

History:
Azzan was born in Shim and raised as a farm boy, he had two parents who were loving to him, but disliked by the locals. They ventured into the cemetery one cold night and were never seen again. The people of the small town thought that the child was connected to the ominous force that seemed to come from the Manor and cemetery, and they left him to the tender mercies of the Ofriyu Mar.

As the Child was swept down by the raging river, it crashed into one of the ferries crossing at a calmer point of the river. The impact knocked a ferry back, and , seeing the child in the water, one of the men jumped from the boat and saved the baby. The man's name was Walter Cravenslaar, and he would become father to the child of the Ofriyu Mar – the name Azzan got from the locals around the crossing point.

Azzan was named by his new father Walter, and was told by him that they were relatives of blood. So Azzan grew to become a young man living a common life, believing the man he lived with was his father. At the age of eighteen his father told him the truth. Azzan was overcame by a sense of rage and loss. Rage at his stepfather for lying to him, and loss of the parents he never knew. So Azzan left the little trading post that clung to the crossing point like a leech. In fact, it only had two more years of life, as the river exacted its rage on the little village and it was swept into the river.

So the young man wandered the lands between the two malevolent Empires. He soon learned that fighting was necessary for survival in this unforgiving landscape. Shifters and Bandits were not uncommon in the less populated areas of the lands – they were actually as common place as the fauna that wandered the land.

Years passed, as they do, and Azzan still found no trace of his lineage. So he decided to admit defeat and return to his home. It was night when he came to where he thought the post had been. When he found only a broad meander in the bleak river, He searched up and down the bank for a few miles. Seeing no signs of the place he had grown up, he returned to the meander and sat looking at the River as it rushed by. The meander had forced the water to pass more quickly here and he knew that there would probably never be a village here ever again. He wept and grew angry at the world – a world he believed had betrayed him. He shouted up at the stars 'I left in search of my parents, when i left I had a father – now you have taken even that which I did have from me. Why?'

He left, a destroyed man. He found the northern trade road and walked Westward. After two days he came to Thar Shaddin. He had heard stories about the solitary state – mirroring his sorrowful home of once, in many ways. He came to Marn, cursing the world, cursing everything and everyone. Ready for whatever hand fate dealed him now...

[Frug]

Approved.