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About Aarol VarienAarol Varien
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BACKGROUND Life is a four lettered word, no mistaking that. Being a half breed scavenger in a land of desperate folk didn’t make things any easier. It could have been better, he could have been better, with a different set of circumstances, but that wasn’t the hand he got dealt. The dirty streets of Daggermark and an elven mother with a bad pesh habit were his lot. Most of his early days were spent just trying to get a fair bite to eat, a full belly the reward for skirting the law. His quick elven reflexes a boon in deftly swiping a pie from a window sill, and his quick words an escape from trouble if he was caught pie-handed. As boys do, he outgrew his neighborhood as his appetites increased. His mother barely acknowledged his goodbye when he left, her eyes glazed with the luxury of apathy granted by the cloud of pesh smoke. He was a fine fit to the culture of the River Kingdoms, a land of desperate men escaping their pasts and carving out new lives. But something greater called to him, something larger than taking what life offered or left unguarded. To the north he travelled, where travelers told of a wound in the earth that spewed demons and a host of heroes seeking glory and fame. A land where a man could claim a name of false nobility, or make a name for himself through merit. With a false banner attached to his spear, and dreams of big glory, Aarol found his way to Kenabres and the recruiter’s office. WHY MENDEV, WHY THE CRUSADE “Greatest deed Luke Skywalker ever did was take down the Death Star, right? As far as I'm concerned, that's what everybody needs. You need that one bad-ass thing that lets you live on forever, you know.” - Hutch, Fanboys (2009) “People think it's all about misery and desperation and death and all that sh*t which is not to be ignored, but what they forget is the pleasure of it. Otherwise we wouldn't do it. After all, we're not f*cking stupid. At least, we're not that f*cking stupid.” - Renton, Trainspotting (1996) His driving force for joining the crusade is the desire for that ultimate moment of glory, that one special success that brings an incredible feeling of satisfaction and balances a life of being ignoble and dishonest. He wants to be a hero, but just can’t escape his own nature, and the crusades offer that chance at being a hero. It’s a microcosm of culture where he’s rewarded for cutting down a foe and looting his corpse for drinking money. It’s a place where he can be unsympathetic and vile, where he can revel in the brutality of hacking a beast limb from limb, all in the name of good.
“Well, here I am, anonymous, all right. With guys nobody really cares about. They come from the end of the line, most of them...got nothing. They're poor. They're the unwanted. Yet they're fighting for our society and our freedom. It's weird, isn't it? They're the bottom of the barrel, and they know it. Maybe that's why they call themselves grunts, 'cause a grunt can take it, can take anything. They're the best I've ever seen, Grandma. The heart and soul.” - Taylor, Platoon (1986) “I've hired you to help me start a war. It's an prestigious line of work, with a long and glorious tradition.” - Vizzini, Princess Bride (1987) A more retched hive of paladins and holiness has never been known. (that should be a trope, the anti-Mos Eisly) Hallways thick with smarmy bastards reeking of pride block any progress at the recruiter’s office. It’s a place of low men with lofty ideals. It’s a collection of anger and fury to match the moods of gods. It’s glorious. Aarol waits his time, ‘til the man barks the quick questions at him. "What Do You Have to Offer the Crusade?"
"When Can You Start?"
"Any Next of Kin to Send Yer Sh*t After a Demon Guts Ya and Makes a Lute with Yer Entrails?"
The recruiter fixes Aarol with a serious stare, ”Why do you want to do this?"
TEMPERAMENT AND TROUPES Though I had started with the idea of sanguine, the character I created is Choleric in humor, who knew? For the tropes, I created a trope (with links) that describes the character and posted it earlier in this thread, Here. APPEARANCE AND MANNERISMS A varisian father and elven mother provide his lineage and explain the long limbs, light brown locks, and charming good looks. A sparse beard coupled with defined muscle betrays his mixed elvish and human heritage, while a friendly smile deceives those that mistake it for kindness. Quicker than skillful, he relies on the threat of his elvish blade to intimidate foes. His grandfather’s heirloom weapon, he took the blade when departing home, knowing that his mother would sell it for more pesh if he left it with her. His capacity to offend people can be difficult to juxtapose with the intent to do good. It’s very unlikely that he’ll ever be asked to present a wedding toast or an eulogy, which is not to suggest that he won’t still get up there and tell horrible and funny stories about the person of honor. He assumes he has children, maybe even a couple of them, but he’s never met any of them, if they exist. Brash and overconfident, he can make friends and lose them with the quickest of ease. (Picture Jack Burton from Big Trouble in Little China with a personality of the ‘Han Shot First!’ version of Solo) “Just remember what ol' Jack Burton does when the earth quakes, and the poison arrows fall from the sky, and the pillars of Heaven shake. Yeah, Jack Burton just looks that big ol' storm right square in the eye and he says, "Give me your best shot, pal. I can take it." - Jack Burton, Big Trouble in Little China (1986) PATRON DEITY AND WORSHIP “Kid, I've flown from one side of this galaxy to the other. I've seen a lot of strange stuff, but I've never seen anything to make me believe that there's one all-powerful Force controlling everything. There’s no mystical energy field controls my destiny.” - Han Solo Please forgive my quoting the same movie twice. I watched Platoon this weekend for inspiration on building a character who's joining a ‘crusade’ where the people are really fighting themselves, as in Mendev, which is also the big point in the final speech by Taylor in the movie. But this line fit perfectly for Aarol as a follower of Desna and is delivered perfectly by Defoe. “I love this place at night, the stars. There's no right or wrong in them. They're just there.” Sgt. Elias, Platoon (1986) This is exactly how I imagine Aarol worshipping Desna, with a humble appreciation for something so much larger than himself. Under the stars in the night sky he finds comfort, there’s no judgement for what he does, for what he’s done, he just simply is, he exists as a single dot of light in a black landscape, no different from any other dot of light on that same dark canvas. follow up info... False Banner: Before leaving Daggermark, Aarol shelled a few coppers to a local artist to paint a baseless coat of arms on a green banner, hoping he could use the prop to bluff his way to a higher standing in new lands. Hidden in his pack until after he entered Mendev, Aarol touts the banner as that of a small river kingdom and claims to be the third son of the ruler, though anyone trained in nobility will quickly see through this ruse. To his disappointment, the false banner has been of little use and he pays the same for every mug of ale as the next man. Father: His mother told him she conceived after a pesh filled weekend with a young varisian trader, but she never said more than that, claiming she didn't know even the man's name. As a boy in Daggermark he watched the trading caravans sometimes, hoping a varisian trader would be among them with features strikingly similar to his own. Even today, he catches himself looking towards the traders in each new town, hoping to find the father lost to him from the beginning. Chance Encounter: |