Alaren El'deren's page

Acrobatics: +8 ( 4 Dex, 1 ranks, 3 class)
Bluff: +6 ( 1 Cha, 1 ranks, 3 class)
Climb: +6 ( 2 St, 1 ranks, 3 class)
Disable Device: +10 ( 4 Dex, 1 ranks, 3 class, 2 Thieves Tools)
Escape Artist: +8 (4 Dex , 1 ranks, 3 class)
Knowledge (Local): +6 ( 3 Int, 1 ranks, 3 class)
Knowledge (Nobility): +6 ( 3 Int, 1 ranks, 3 class)
Perception: +7 (0 Wis , 1 ranks, 3 class, 2 Keen Senses)
Sleight of Hand : +8 ( 4 Dex, 1 ranks, 3 class)
Stealth: +8 ( 4 Dex, 1 ranks, 3 class)
Survival: +5 (0 Wis , 1 ranks, 3 class, 1 Trait)

Alaren had an unusual birth... in that he was born silent. It is an ill omen that a child does not cry in birth and it that silence his parents feared the worst. Though it was not so, their child still lived, the silence heralded his illness to them and the midwife. Something had gone wrong during the pregnancy and, even for an elf, he was born small and frail. In the hopes that it might help him understand they loved him no less, and perhaps even to calm their own fears of their first moment, they named him Alaren El'dalen, or Silent Leaf on the Wind, shortened just a tad.

He easily took to illness and as he grew from a babe to a child he found his body unable to perform many a task that was simple for others. No, he could not run, nor play, nor work. The boy was often sequestered in his room while his family did what they could to pay for food, their home and for the medicine he required. They were worn thin by the strain, but for their child they would do anything. It was unfortunate that even into his young adolescent years Alaren never truly comprehended the danger he was in. He knew that he got sick often and that he was weaker then others his age, human or elven, but he always felt constrained by the limitations placed on him by both his parents and his own body.

Often he would read books to escape his situation, anything from wild stories to old texts on history, usually whatever his parents could afford at the end of the month and always used. He was smart and clever, so he enjoyed both learning and simply escaping into these other worlds written on paper. But it was not enough for the child. One day, simply to see if he could, he tried to emulate one of the bandit heroes in one of his stories. He pick pocketed a noble walking through the small village his family lived in, his hand slipping in and out of the mans pocket without him ever noticing. Though he cared little for the copper and silver he often got from such adventures, he could not help but continue. For, you see, such a task required neither strength nor stamina. It merely required a keen eye, a quick mind, and a steady hand. When he was not coughing Alaren had all three of these, and when a fit took him he often managed to talk his way out of trouble by claiming it was an accident. The coin often went to help his parents who, desperate as they were, questioned only rarely where it came from. Though he loathed lying to them, Alaren felt guilty that he was such burden, and made sure not a single coin he had stolen was spent on books or the like. Since he could only do this every once in a while he raised little suspicion from his family.

Alaren was only ever caught once though, and he is still uncertain if he was ever truly successful or not. A man, a human the likes of which he had never seen, had wandered into the town. He was not dressed opulently but there was an air to him that turned heads as surely as any flashily dressed noble might, an air of authority and perhaps even wisdom that earned him quite a few glances. From what Alaren over heard as he made his way down the road was that he was searching for a thief within this village, going from merchants stall to merchants stall to see if any knew of such. The farmers knew a couple, but all had been caught and punished or sent on their way. The merchants knew a few more, but something about the way the man listened and asked questions suggested they were not who he was looking for.

Another mystery that haunts him to this day is this. Alaren, without knowing why, decided to try and pick pocket the man. He was not dressed with flashy colors or garb, he did not offer any coin to the merchants (who answered him readily despite this), and he did not even carry with him anything of value. And yet... the elf was drawn to the man, was already slipping his hand into the mans pocket before he knew why, and was already half way down the street before he had realized what he had done. He had stolen a single gold coin, more wealth then he had ever seen in his young (albeit long given that he was an elf of 30 years by this point) life. The moment he saw what it was he rushed home to tell his family what he had 'found'.

His folks were doubtful about the origin of such wealth and instead of believing their child they questioned him seriously for the first time. Just as he was confessing, to the shock and surprise of his parents, a knock at the door heralded the arrival of a visitor. It was Alaren's turn to be shocked. The man on the other side was none other then the man from the marketplace. He looked straight at Alaren and for a brief moment the elf child saw something glimmer in his eyes. And then he turned to his parents.

What followed was confusing enough on its own, and this does not even take into account the daze the elven family appeared to be in. The man asked if he could come in, have a seat and talk to them. They acquiesced with little thought despite knowing that he was the man their child had stolen from. He came in, but waited for the parents to sit across from him at their small table before taking his seat. They did so, despite the fact that this was their home. He used no power, no magic and did not threaten or lie to them. The man simply was and his parents accepted that authority relatively quickly, either because they could feel innately that he was more somehow or for fear of their sons actions.

The mans words were stranger still. He began by telling them of a place, in somewhat vague detail, where gifted children were brought to, looked after and trained. He went on about how safe this place was and how each child was taken care of with food, warm clothes and shelter. They would be trained to take care of themselves and taught many things of the world. And then he surprised Alaren's parents by offering to take Alaren to this place and even to cure him of his frailty. They were stunned into silence. For the next five minutes, no one said a word, not even the child in the corner who watched everything happen and understood little of what was happening. Finally his mother broke the silence.

"What guarantee do we have that you speak the truth, that our son would be safe with you?" She had, unlike her husband, considered carefully his words. He was speaking of a place where Alaren would be seen to and taken care of, provided for beyond any means she or her husband might ever achieve. So the question was not 'would we let Alaren go'. The question was 'how do we know you'll really keep him safe.' The man considered the woman's question carefully. This was a mother who wanted what was best for her child. He could threaten them. It was a popular law to cut the hands of thieves for a first offense. But he would not stoop to such levels. He could make promises or guarantee's or offer some way for them to know the truth, but these methods would reveal too much. So he offered them the only thing he could, something that, to a mother, should not have been enough but was simply because of who was saying it. "I give you my word that no harm will befall your child while he is under my care."

For some reason, neither his mother and father could doubt the mans words. There was something about him that compelled them to believe him. Nothing mystical or magical either. They could simply see, somehow, just how much this man valued his word. They... acquiesced. In a week, what few belongings he was allowed to bring were packed, mostly clothes, and Alaren was off to live in a monastery under the tutelage and care of one he would learn to call Sensei.

Alaren's training first began with his toughest ordeal. The man had the means to see to healing the illness that afflicted the young elf child and did so the day they arrived at the monastery. The healing was painful, but afterword the young elf found himself feeling better and stronger then ever before. But years of having wasted away with little to no exercise beneath the burden of his disease had caused him to be far behind the physical fitness of other youths his age. Even more portly children could easily out run or out last him in any sort of game.

Alaren was guided through measures that would slowly build both his strength and stamina, but it would not be for near two decades before he could be considered near average. He had spent three with his illness after all. Still, the elf quite literally reveled in the physical training. Years of fearing pushing himself to hard and causing a coughing attack or even passing out had put in him a great desire to simply run without fear. And so he did. Eventually, his training would pay off. Though even his Sensei doubts that, with centuries of life, Alaren will ever truly excel in stamina, he is no longer hindered by a frail form. If anything he is a touch sturdier then most elves his age. There is strength to his lean muscles as well, and a deftness of hand and eye that far exceeds even skilled men and women.

His discipline did not end with physical training though. He learned quickly of the library of the Monastery, and though the first year or two of training so little use from Alaren as he reveled in his freedom from his illness, over the decades the elf would soon find himself spending many a night within the isles of book shelves enjoying good stories or fascinating tales. He learned as well, history being his favorite subject.

Alaren's life was not all about training or reading though. He made friends here in the Monastery far easier then he did in his home village, people who were of like mind. There were his trainers to, some of which became close friends as the years progressed. Life was good within the halls of the twilight monastery. Though certainly not easy living, it was good, and Alaren learned to call this place home.

In early years he was allowed to write letters to his family, though they had to be screened and often corrected when the child revealed to much. As he grew older though they began to trust in him more not to betray certain details, and Alaren did not. His parents are happy there son does well and glad they made the right choice. Though he still feels bad he cannot help support them these days, he finds their joy at his well being more then comforting.