ACTIVE Soran Nightblade

[Soran Nightblade]

1) Name: Soran Nightblade

2) Gender: Male

3) Race: Elven

4) Job/Class: Rogue

5) Appearance: 5’10” tall, slim but lean. Resembles a human of approximately 26 years old, but does not know his actual age. Keeps his piercing forest-green eyes wiped clean of emotion at all times. Dark brown hair hangs carelessly around his neck down to his shoulders, and often gets in his face. He dresses in a tan v-necked shirt, black pants tucked into shin-high black steel-toed boots, and a long, dark brown trenchcoat. Wears an arc-shaped steel armblade fastened firmly to the outer edge of each forearm, and uses the cold blades as his primary weapons. They have long-since torn slits into the sleeves of his coat, which toss back menacingly to reveal his weapons in battle. The surface of his back is crisscrossed by gashes from his childhood, and his lower left chest bears an unusual scar that he refuses to discuss.

6) Weaknesses: In battle, due to his hand-to-hand (close range) combat style, he is especially vulnerable to ranged attacks and weapons with a long reach. He dislikes physical contact, even when it is friendly. Perhaps his greatest weakness, however, is his loner personality. He has a plentitude of acquaintances, but because he does not let anyone close to him, if he were in trouble, not a soul in the world would know to come to his aid. Soran denies, even to himself, that his inner loneliness is a hidden emotional weakness for him.

7) Biography: Soran has no memory of the earlier part of his childhood. His first memories are of waking up alone in Ashgrown Forest, his back covered with fresh, deep gashes. He was lost in the forest for several years, keeping himself alive and sane by channeling his focus into training hand-to-hand combat skills. During his time there, he knew no friendly contact with any living thing, experiencing only the taste of solitude and battle. He finally found his way to the city of Hespian. There, he quickly learned how to survive in the rougher part of town, where he continues to live.

He is now a small legend in the taverns of backstreet Hespian, known for being exceptionally sharp at placing wagers. He is highly skilled at hand-to-hand fighting and masterfully weilds a pair of deadly steel armblades against his enemies. He is respected and feared for maintaining a certain kind of social/ethical order in an area of the city so rough that the city guards don’t bother to enter, and for never being cheated out of a bet. He is neither do-gooder nor evil, acting according to his own code of values, the properties of which are known only to him. His occasional acts of justice are inconsistent and unpredictable, and nobody is sure whether he is motivated by conscience or by whim, but the locals often respect his judgment, even when they don’t understand it.

He has no known family, friends or allies, and maintains a strict distance from everyone he meets, communicating even to those he’s known for years as though they are merely acquaintances. He seems to have no desire to form meaningful relationships with others, and takes no interest in the women who often fall for his mysteriously unreadable eyes. His demeanor is sternly indifferent and he rarely bothers to become involved in others’ problems. Although some admire him as a man who doesn’t seem to need anyone or anything, Soran’s needs for companionship and purpose are complex emotions that even he doesn’t understand.