Physical Features
- Height:
- 7'2" (218cm)
- Weight:
- 172lbs; sporting a body that is athletic and lithe in build.
- Complexion:
- Much of his skin is a reddish shade of tanned , and has a clear weathered look to it from the centuries of fighting, and moving through the Ninraih canopy, this is in contrast to a lot of his other kin, who have a typical elvish softness, especially among the Lumeacia.
- Hair:
- Cascading, medium length black hair with a short ponytail holding some of it at the back with a bit of loose ribbon. Decorating and adorning it throughout are charms of both wood and bone of various designs.
- Eyes:
- Mud brown
Other Features
Heavily scarred in a lot of places and always seems to be carrying an ornately decorated flute around with him along with various books on botany and other natural sciences. He also has tattoos of various types littering him, some denoting undead killed, some denoting events in his life of importance.
Social Interactions
Relationships and Companions
None of significance...
Personality
Some would call this man stoic or dispassionate, serious and otherwise quiet, but behind the first impressions of him lies a deeply spiritual, down to earth individual with an exact and occasionally blithe view of the world in many regards, being dolorous in outlook toward a lot of things and revering the cycle of life, finishing in the finality of death. He's a proud and idealistic man who is long past looking at the world in such a happy, optimistic way and so treats others with a certain candor.
Background
- Age:
- 587
- Origin:
- Tviyr
- Residence:
- Roving with his band of vagabond mercenaries.
History
Not always a man of such grim views and ideals, Aeirn was indeed once a young, bright eyed elf with a love and fascination for nature and the botanical sciences, countless days he'd spend studying what flora he collected, looking at its whatever innate properties it held as well as more mundane aspects shared among other such specimens. He'd go over texts and write his own musings down in various journals to perhaps one day be famed for discovering a new species of plant, perhaps even being remembered for his contributions. Indeed it was a happy life he led, simple in many ways but not one that would give rise to the man he is today.
It was when the reign of Bhelest began and his dominance fell over Khy'eras like a plague that his life changed, magic sparked a rift through Elven society and no more could he simply be the famed botanist he dreamed of being. His people were called to war and to war he went, taking up the bow and the blade along with many of his kin to fight the undead legions, so perhaps one day, he could return to the life he had now left behind.
The war changed him, the cycle of life had been disturbed, the dead were not suppose to rise, to come back, everything died in the end, and such unnatural creatures destroyed the balance that nature so carefully walked, his reverence for death was an insidious one, where once he had prized only his admiration for Kelorha and the life she guarded, he now found himself devoting more time those that passed away, seeing death as something to be honoured, sending the undead to rest, to finally slumber and be away with the nightmare of their mere existence, this in turn would turn him eventually to a more religious devotion to the two aspects when such things did not bring the threat of danger; bringing him closer to both life, nature and the final end for all things.
He saw friends die, loved ones leave as his society fractured into two tribes. Yet the newly named Kerasoka was the tribe he belonged with and so he stayed behind as the Lumeacia departed. More and more the war took its toll, turning the once bright eyed young man into a battle-hardened pessimist; and now with the Kerasoka being stripped of any magical prowess, were losing, and badly. Beaten back, time after time, the legions of Bhelest seemed never to stop; comrades continued to fall left and right, only to be brought back, and flung against former, friends, lovers and family.
What good was a world that could breed such evil, such unnatural beasts. He had time to reflect as the Kersoka sought refuge with the Fae of Ajteire, as they formed a pact, one that survives to this day. He found himself becoming disillusioned, how could his people simply give up the fight? There was plenty of undead still out there, they should have been taking the fight to them, ridden the world of such abominations.
He decided to move out, gather who he could and form a band of roving mercenaries, with the ultimate goal of ridding the undead from Khy'eras, where ever they lay.
