Owen is a nondescript man in the early years of middle age, of medium height, thin build, and stooped posture. His close-cropped brown hair fades to grey at the temples, and his weather-beaten skin is crisscrossed with old scars and back-alley tattoos. Owen's gear is battered and worn-- he dresses in a tattered military uniform of uncertain origin with a dented, rusted breastplate, and a sturdy wooden shield is slung across his back. He carries an old bow and an even older morningstar, as well as a heavily-patched rucksack and a long coil of intricately-knotted rope. The only thing he carries that does not seem to be dirty or broken is an exotic-looking jeweled dagger jammed crudely into his belt.
Personality:
Normally quiet and taciturn, Owen tends to speak in short, blunt sentences, rarely making eye contact. His manner is low-class and uncultured, though he retains traces of an upper-class Korvosan accent. Owen is not one to question orders, or even come up with plans of attack, preferring to listen politely, agree, and then improvise his own plan when the time comes. Most find Owen to be cold, abrasive, and unlikable.
Background:
The son of Owen the Elder, a respected and prosperous Korvosan merchant, the younger Owen had an easy childhood. His family's wealth, as well as his prodigious intellect, however, led to Owen becoming a spoiled and arrogant youth. Thinking himself immune to misfortune and trusting his family to bail him out of sticky situations, at the age of eighteen, Owen threw his lot in with a crew of thieves in an effort to add some adventure to his life. Unfortunately, several months after joining the gang, Owen killed a nobleman in a botched heist, and no amount of money could save him from prison.
Fifteen years after his sentence was given, Owen was released. Disowned, penniless, and hardened as he may have been, he had picked up a useful skill even while rotting in the dungeons of Castle Korvosa: magic. Soon after his imprisonment, Owen had shared a cell with a Chelaxian devil-binder. The mage had recognized Owen's natural talent immediately, and was quickly able to turn his new student to the arts of conjuration. By the time of his release, Owen had developed his own, subtle method of manipulating the fabric of space, and learned to use it to maneuver silently and quickly during prison fights without alerting the guards. He now turns his skills to mercenary work, relying on his battered appearance to make foes underestimate his considerable skill.
GM information:
XP 7000
3 or more things feared: Owen's biggest fear is the no-win situation, the inescapable trap that his intellect cannot escape. A distant second and third are the foreignness of intimacy and the inevitability of death.
2 or more things loved dearly: Though one would not think it by his rough exterior, Owen prizes knowledge above all else, with gold a distant second. Rare tomes, especially those relating to mathematics, physics, and the planes are especially interesting to him.
1 or more things embarrassed by: Owen is somewhat embarrassed by both his youthful arrogance, as well as his upper-class upbringing, preferring to skirt around the topic if it comes up.
1 thing most proud: Owen takes no great pride in anything, and even though he does think himself a competent spellcaster, he feels that he has fallen behind the curve due to his years in the dungeon.
1 secret you will do anything to hide: Owen's biggest secret is his biggest asset: his magical skill. He relies on his spellcasting to go unnoticed in order to win fights and remain consistently employed. Owen wouldn't necessarily try to hide it at all costs, but certainly considers it an important trade secret.
