i can't get this to work for the life of me so I hope someone can tell me how to do it
{{character
| name = Thayne Achius Rhaz
| color = #BF0000
| text color = #FFFFFF
| image = image:Thayne2_zpse8490474.jpg
| imagewidth = [defaults to 250]
| Caption = Thayne
| Player = karmakeni
| Aliases = Thayne Rhaz, The Lion from the North
| Gender = Male
| Date of birth = 603 MR
| Race = Human
| Occupation = Slave Trader
| Titles = None Currently
| Affiliations = House Rhaz
| Nationality = Varana
| Current status = Alive
| Deity of choice = Lochwar
}}
==Brief History==
Thayne is well known around the Docks of Cear as the business face of House Rhaz and their Slave Trading. A man of average height and build, his most striking feature is his distinguished beard. Early in his life Thayne spent his fair share of time on the seas, doing business for the family and learning the trade. As a young man Thayne had an illicit affair with a tavern owner in Cuhannan, from which there are rumors of a daughter. Thayne has spent the last year in Cuhannen procuring the finest slaves he could and establishing trade relations with Slave vendors, and has now returned to Cear once more.
Ok, this is the first time I've done this so please if there's anything that needs changing please say thanks
This is my main character.
Gormok Thrahza, is a half ork but thinks of himself as a full blooded ork. His age now is 54, with a strong blood lust for fighting. Wherever there's a chance of a battle, either a quest or just beating a petty thief you can bet your money that this ork will be willing to jump in. He isn't the brightest ork out there (Not that many orks are bright) but what he lacks in brains he more than compensates in muscle. Gormok has a habit of taking his anger out on his surroundings, although he will not attack other people unless provoked, he can be rather stubborn when it comes to his own opinions and decisions (however wrong and unethical they might be). He stands about 6 foot tall and is built like a tank (or so he thinks). However fierce and dim-witted this ork may seem he has good intentions making him an excellent ally and friend.
Born and raised within the mountain lands of Kor, him and his tribe of orks lived within those lands in peace. His father was the ork warboss chief and was renown for protecting his people. He used to train Gormok and his brother, Tormack Thrahza though the art of war when they were no older than 15. Gromok had a habit of playing tricks on his younger brother as a way of pure fun. It wasn't until they were at the ages of 34 when everything ended, a large band of bandit orks appeared and started attacking their tribe, swinging their axe's and blades across other orks, cutting arms and legs off like a knife through butter. These were no ordinary orks, they stood around 7 feet tall and had twice the amount of muscle than any average ork, they had battle scars across every part of their body, their armor was barbarian like, nothing on the chest but fur like parts for the legs. Gormok and Tormack where told by their father to protect their mother, one of these beasts turned towards them and started to walk in their direction, they could feel the foot steps of this beast getting closer. Before the beast was close enough to land any kind of strike with his blade that went for the attack, both charging towards it and attempting to land hits on this creature. Even tho the beast was massive compared to Gormok and Tormack he was incredibly fast, deflecting every move they make, it was looking bad for them both as they started to get tired. The beast swings his arm and smacks Gormok straight into one of the buildings and almost knocked him out cold, before he went out cold he saw his brother shove his blade through one of beasts. Unfortunately the blade didn't affect the beast in anyway and therefore seeing his father, brother and mother all die beneath there blades. As he started to wake up all he can smell is the stench of blood and fire within the air, as Gormok struggled to his feet he looked around and noticed his mother laying on the floor in a puddle of blood, dying. He attempted to walk towards her but in the process falling back down to his knees, he had taken a very nasty blow to the back of his head but still he kept trying to walk to her. As Gormok approached her she gave him an amulet and with one last breath she said that she was sorry that she didn't tell him that he was a half ork. She died along with the rest of his tribe and everything that they have created, he swore on his life and every ork that died by those beasts blades that he would get revenge for the death of his people and land.
15 years have passed since Gormok lost everything, all that is left for him to do is to travel around the plains looking for work. Among his travels he came across a battlefield between what looked to be two different armies of men. One wore bright shining armor, almost holy like, as the other wore black, demon like armor. As Gormok watched the battle start his blood lust for a fight started to boil, making him want to join in the fight. He was standing there for a good while before the blood lust became too much to bare. As Gormok approach the battlefield he attacked anyone he saw, not caring about who or what they were fighting for as his mind was stuck within combat. He slayed a good amount of men from both sides, cutting arms off and stabbing his blade through their thick armor, cutting though their chest as if nothing was there. It wasn't until one of the soldiers wearing the black, demon like armor took a swing to Gormoks face, the strike was coming from above like rain from the sky. The strike went straight down his right eye, slicing the flesh on his face, lucky enough Gormok moved back a bit so the blade didn't slice his eye. He quickly retreated towards the trees where he had seen the battle take place with a hand upon his eye.
20 years from the day that the bandit orks attacked, he is now just a lonesome warrior that is just looking for work and people to make friends with.
The Plague Lord Nurgle, The Blood God Khorne, The Changer of Tzeentch, The Pleasure Prince Slaanesh
Caldur Xilow is an elf who believes that all things have a reason to live. When he was young, Caldur felt mostly pain and hatred between himself and other elves. He didn't like the way they killed other animals and creatures for their own needs. Every time Caldur saw them attack a creature he would try to protect it, but each time the other elves would simply pin him down and make him watch.
Caldur was given a egg at the age of 50 by his father, Kerliro Xilow. "Son, this here is a giant spider's egg," said Kerliro, giving the egg to Caldur. "I want you to look after it my child. It's yours now," he add with a smile.
Caldur was so happy to finally have a pet of his own. "Thank you father," replied Caldur as he was holding the egg. It had a bright green glow with a yellow creature silhouetted inside it.
It wasn't until he hit the age of 100 that his life changed for ever. Cladur has called his pet Ocane and it grown a lot in the past 50 years. It was at midnight, with a clear night sky above their heads. They walked the flat lands with nothing but a stone path as far as the eye could see. Caldur stopped as he heard something behind him, but found nothing upon turning. He then looked back to the way that he was walking and saw a shadowy figure standing in front of him. Caldur couldn't make out who or what it was apart from that it was mumbling something under it breath. He took a step forward and within an instant the shadowy figure cast a spell upon him. The spell did not harm Caldur but changed the bond between him and his pet, Ocane. When the spell was finished he looked up but the shadowy figure was gone.
It was his 125th birthday. Caldur wasn't really one for parties but he enjoyed it anyway; he greeted everyone who came and went, and anyway it was more like a big family dinner. It wasn't until something happened to Ocane that he realised what that shadowy figure has done to him 25 years ago. A startled guest unused to house spiders was quick to put a knife through Ocane's leg, and as she did so, Caldur felt a very sharp pain shoot through his leg. He collapsed onto the floor.
Caldur is now 150 years old and travels far and wide, protecting every animal he sees that is being abused for selfish needs. The spell that connects Ocane's body to Caldur's can only be broke with the death of one of them, though there is a very high chance that it will kill them both.
The Plague Lord Nurgle, The Blood God Khorne, The Changer of Tzeentch, The Pleasure Prince Slaanesh
Tharwulf was born and raised in the Plains of Arrith, the harsh lands of the Tah'nai, as a member of the Telkhmar clan and the son of his tribe's chieftain. Like all others in his community, he was introduced to the arts of hunting and combat at an early age.
When he reached his adulthood, he had to pass the traditional Test of Valour to prove his worth: he was left alone on the top of his clan's sacred mountain, in winter and with his everyday's clothes as his only material posession. Two long weeks later, after facing countless dangers that could have got any man killed, he returned to his tribe, injured but still alive, and was received as a true Tah'nai warrior...
That would have been the usual, at least. However, when he finally arrived, he found the remnants of what his tribe had once been, barely a house standing or a man, woman or child left alive as a result of the expansionist efforts of a coalition of Wulark and Varanite forces. A dying man, the shaman of the tribe, used his last breath to speak three words to Tharwulf: "Sigrid, Dasaria, enslaved." When he heard the name of his sister and the former apprentice of the now dead shaman, he quickly packed whatever was left of his travelling gear and started walking towards the south...
Race: Human
Gender: Male
Age: Mid-thirties
Occupation: Wanderer, Warrior
Homeland: Anjiro
It is clear, from his foreign garbs and weaponry, that Xiasheng Qiao is not from the province nor from the capital but a distant land known as Anjiro. He is a tall, stark individual with misty green eyes, medium length black hair and a sparse yet black beard. It's clear from his code of dress that he is indeed foreign, that and the fact he cannot speak common though he carries himself with complete discipline and is never without a Katana strapped on his lower back crossed atop a smaller blade known as a Wakizashi which he wields proficiently in a deadly dance of duel weapon combat.
In nature he is mild, reserved, speaking very little unless he encounters one who can speak his mother tongue and, as such, most might perceive him as rude though the truth in the matter is he reserves speech for when it is required. As a wanderer he has adopted a suspicion of any who would approach him blades drawn and will respond with honourable combat if threatened. This honour is adopted in his everyday life, every task he performs a ritualistic discipline that governs not only his way of life, but his control in battle and, as such, he is a meticulous individual with a strong belief in honour and valour. As an Anjiran Royalist, devoted to 'his' emperor and the ruler of Anjiro, he does not pay much regard to the Varanite emperor but offers him the respect he deserves for building such a powerful empire and, while in these foreign lands, will side with Varana to fight against the increasing threat that is Canas.
His golden trimmed black armour, padded with metal plates running beneath the expensive and exquisitely woven cloth bears the sigil of Iaosia marking him as a man of nature, though this does not prevent him from regarding other deities with a similar respect and commonly he will pray to Lochwar before a battle and pay his respects to Peralia after a battle. Trained in the slaying of the undead and proficient to life outside of the cities of the province, Xaisheng Qiao is a natural survivor, one who's fortunes lie in the battlefield, destined to cross blades with the denizens of Canas even at the cost of his own life.
A Fish, a fish, a fish, a fish .... Ohhhhh Fishy! Where did the fish go? Is it in the cupboard? Or is it up the stairs? For it went wherever I did go.
Height: 5'0" Weight: 110 lbs. Body Type: Lean with a healthy hourglass figure; the body of a dancer. Estimated Age: 21 Hair: Dark Red Eyes: Crystaline Blue that sometimes shifts between grey and lavender, depending on mood and attire. Skin: Golden Tan Origin: Cuhanna Profession: Storyteller, singer, and dancer (Bard) Voice: Soft and mellifluous with a strong Cuhannan accent Sibling: One twin brother, Vox
Overall Appearance: Quinn is quite a beauty, with flawless skin and light colored eyes that are a stark contrast to her golden skin. Her lips are full and soft, and are lightly stained by red berries, giving them a soft pink hue. Her long, red hair is styled in loose braids, with strands of hair arranged to frame her heart shaped face to perfection. The makeup she wears is light and is applied to enhance her natural beauty. She moves with a dancer's grace; every step as though part of a choreographed dance.
Personality: Quinn is a bubbly and creative young woman, who delights in spinning tall tales and singing silly songs for anyone who will listen. Despite her past as a slave, she is still quite innocent and naive to the ways of the world, and this seen in the way she trusts people so easily. She can't always differentiate between what is right and wrong, and often needs guidance in this regard. While she has her own distinct personality, she is naturally submissive and has a difficult time looking people in the eye, or even standing up for herself. Overall, she has a big heart and cares deeply for those she gets close to.
Background: Born into slavery, Quinn was trained in the arts of home care, cooking, entertainment, and the sensual arts. As with most slaves, personality and individuality is not something that is encouraged; in fact, it is strongly discouraged. Quinn's upbringing was no different, except for one thing - her twin brother was always by her side, protecting her and loving her, so she always had that affection that she was able to hold onto, even when her own sense of self was in danger of being lost.
Quinn and Vox were inseparable throughout their training, leaning on each other when things were especially difficult, and reveling in each other's successes, few that they were. No one ever cares about the birth of a slave, so their actual age was never known, but it was estimated that they were born sixteen years prior to their first time they ever saw an auction block. Fortune was on their side as they were both bought by another trader, who saw fit to finely hone their training before selling them again. They spent four years with this trader, who was known for high quality slaves.
The siblings held each other close when it was decided they were to be sold again, knowing they may not be so lucky this time and that they might be separated. Even when Quinn was pulled up onto the block, they had to pull her out of Vox's arms. To her credit, she never openly cried, though her eyes brimmed with tears. As she stood on the block, she looked out over the crowd of faces, wondering where she will be going now - which man or woman she will belong to next. It wasn’t long before the bidding started, and she was the possession of Lorne Brennan, the man with the heavily cowled face who stood in the back. It was all she could to do hide her surprise as the gavel fell, signaling the finalization of her sale, but she tightened her jaw and walked off the block, without a backward glance to begin her new life; not knowing what to expect from this new master.
She soon learned that her new master, would not be her master at all. Within the first few days, he offered her freedom, even going so far as to burn her papers before her eyes. This was when her panic set in. What would she do? Where would she go? How could she be anything other than a slave? She wasn't even able to refer to herself as anything other than "this one" or "she" or "her" and now she has this offer of freedom before her, allowing her to go back and find her brother, or create a new life for herself. Seeing the look of cold dread wash over her face, this man realized she was in no place to safely be on her own so he asked her to stay with him, by her own decision. She quickly agreed.
Over the next year, Lorne Brennan taught her how to see herself as her own person, instead of property. He was finally able to break her of the habit of calling him "master," only for her to begin to call him "Sir." Throughout this time, he constantly reminded her she was able to leave at any time, yet she never did, always saying she will leave when he asks her to, and not before. He never touched her, always prefering to sleep in separate rooms, when available, and separate beds if not. On rare occasion, they would need to share a tent for warmth, but he always made sure there was some barrier between them. Yet, she tended and served him all the way, despite his constant protests that she didn't have to.
It wasn't long before she began to feel the stirring of love for this cold and distant man, who always held her at arm's length. His patience when listening to her ridiculous stories and tall tales, and his quiet respect spoke volumes to this woman who never imagined she would ever be able to call herself a free woman. She never mentioned her feelings for him, always thinking it was overstepping her boundaries to ever speak of her feelings of love. Instead, she simply contented herself with longing stares and continuing to share her stories with him and listening to him humor her, seemingly, half-heartedly.
They followed their feet, taking any odd job they could find to survive, and never really going in any specific direction until they arrived in Caer. It seemed a nice enough place, with plenty of employment opportunities, so they unofficially decided to stay; at least for the time being. Time will tell if they stay in the long term.
She never forgot her brother, speaking of him often to Lorne, who always responded with kindness and comfort as best as he was able and she vowed she would find a way to free him, as soon as she had the means.
Heritage:
Quinn's mother's name was Misanji Patteel and was once a part of the Shikar tribe before she was captured by the Khassidi and sold into slavery, as a pleasure slave. Misanja was a great beauty, and a favorite of those she serviced and soon found herself pregnant by some unknown man; one of the many she was made to service. Her pregnancy was difficult and she gave birth to a set of healthy twin, four weeks early. As with her pregnancy, her delivery was also difficult and it ruined her body and beauty. Her master, a cruel man named Rav Mondeau, thought her useless to him, so he ripped the babies from her breast and had her killed. The twins were then raised by other slaves, to be slaves. Seeing their potential, Rav thought to make a hefty profit by selling them to another trader named Abaddon Verese. This new trader trained the twins to be highly skilled pleasure slaves, being careful to keep their purity intact, so to boost their value. All Quinn knows is that her mother is dead, her father is some unknown man, and the names of the two traders who owned her, before Lorne bought her.
Last edited by Iduna on Fri Jan 10, 2014 1:23 am, edited 1 time in total.
Height: 6'2" Weight: 180 lbs. Body Type: Lean and fit. He has a swimmers figure. Estimated Age: 24 Hair: Dark Brown Eyes: Grey Skin: Light tan Origin: Darish Profession: Scribe, Courier, Servant. Voice: Deep, dry, with a borderline monotone.
Overall Appearance: Baedyn's appearance tends to shift between disheveled and travel-worn and pristine. his hair is kept long, the bangs threatening to overtake his eyes. he always has a bit of trimmed scruff on his face, hiding a handful of light scars. His hands have only light callouses, as well as a scribes callous along his index finger. His fingers are somewhat long, and when he speaks he often talks with his hands giving off a somewhat effeminate vibe.
Personality: Baedyn tends to be polite for the most part, although in a casual manner. He's not quick to anger, and when he is angered he does a fairly good job of hiding it. Having grown up at the beck and call of his betters within the Varanite Empire, Baedyn has learned to curb his tongue and keep his head low. And he has a keen eye for picking out his betters from a crowd.
Background: Baedyn was born and raised in the Dars province. He was an only child, his mother having died during the miscarriage of what would have been his sister. He was raised by his aunt, his father and uncle both taking part in rearing him. although his relations with his father were strained. He never took to the warrior craft over much. But the boy grew up with a strong sense of cunning and a keen eye for detail. as he grew he learned the scribe's trade, and served varying merchants on the caravans as a sort of hybrid between messenger and warrior. Often astride a horse with little more than a crossbow he'd go to and fro carrying messages and doing his utmost to evade highwaymen and brigands. As he's grown older the young man lost interest in his lifestyle. he worked far too hard for what little he earned, and so he turned to the other provinces for the possibility of a better life. Such has led him to the city of Cear, in the conquered province of Dasaria. Where tales of powerful men like Thanye Rhaz, the Lion from the North, have enticed him to seek out his own fortune.
Tharwulf's younger sister and the daughter of a barbarian chieftain, Sigrid was born in the cold Plains of Arrith, into a Tah'nai tribe of the elk clan. Despite of her gender, she was trained in the use of arms along with her brother and the rest of the children. It was not too long until she showed an affinity for magic and the spiritual world. When her family became aware of this gift, she was immediatelly appointed to become the apprentice of the tribe's shaman.
Since that day, Sigrid spent most of her time immersed in her studies, combining both martial and spiritual training, and joining Tharwulf to explore the outskirts of their tribe whenever she had some free moments. Her life went on without many incidents until the winter of 639/640 MR, when the tribe was attacked and brought down in a Wulark raid, and while her brother was away in the mountains. The unexpected assault caught her by surprise during one of her meditation sessions and she was knocked out and kidnapped by the attackers, who saw in her a trophy worth a good deal of coin in the slave trade.
Dasaria
Slavery
(( Kudos to DM Sabre for this section. It's written by me - Arkalezth - but she came up with most of this part of Sigrid's story herself. ))
After her abduction, Sigrid was taken to the southern lands of Dasaria and kept prisoner by one of the many gangs in Morell, the infamous Ni Triad. For nearly a year, rumours say that she often stood up for the weaker slave girls, and categorically refused to give her name or speak in anything else than her mother tongue to her captors, who started referring to her simply as "blonde hellcat wildling". At a certain point, she even attempted to escape, aided by another slave, but they got caught and brought back to their imprisonment. The other slave, Nita, got her tongue cut out for this affront. Sigrid's punishment is unknown to this day.
Eventually - probably because the Ni Triad found her too much of a headache and not worth the trouble - she was sold to Captain Hex, a renowned Cuhannan pirate lord rumoured to be more fiend than human, and so she was delivered to his mighty ship, the Devil's Floozy. Not much is known about the time the young Telkhmar spent sailing under the pirate's control, other than the fact that she took the opportunity to get herself acquainted with the basics of the Cuhannan language spoken by the crew, as well as some of their customs. When, after an undetermined period of time, the Devil's Floozy returned to Morellian shores, an auction was held, and Sigrid was sold along with most of the other slaves.
The man who bought Sigrid answered to the name of Davydd Leyvan, student of the Collegium Arcanum and the young heir of a noble house in Ravenswatch who came across the auction as he was travelling back home. As soon as his eyes rested on Sigrid, he inmediately fell for her and agreed to pay whatever amount of coin the slavers would ask of him. Sigrid was then brought to Ravenswatch, given a bath, clean clothes and a room, and to her surprise, her freedom. Sigrid agreed to stay in the Leyvan manor, where she and Davydd grew increasingly fond of each other and finally became engaged.
It was soon after these events when a towering and unfriendly-looking barbarian came knocking on their door one day. Despite the early hostilities towards the young nobleman, he turned to be no other than Tharwulf, Sigrid's older brother, who had been turning Morell upside down while looking for her. And so the siblings were reunited in freedom.
Freedom
(( Work in progress. ))
Last edited by Arkalezth on Fri Jul 04, 2014 5:49 pm, edited 4 times in total.
On the accounts of Lady Yvalee Serius (née Dy'Ner)
Birth and life in Rian
Yvalee Serius (née Dy'Ner) was born in the year 523 MR in the outskirts of Rian as only daughter to Jhael and Sabiira Dy'Ner. She is the last in line to the Dy'Ner dynasty, half Riannan and half I'tel'gothrim. She was raised by her grandmother Celadrith (née Tyr'Ghymn) Dy'Ner.
Yvalee's upbringing was sheltered as well as violent in the broadest sense of the word. She was taught to mistrust and manipulate from very early age on and is used to working for what she wants. Despite both her parents and grandmother being sorcerers, Yvalee is a wizard. She takes in that after her grandfather, late Kell Dy'Ner, who was an infamous, known offender to the Crown under the Dasarian Rule.
Life in Cear
When Yvalee became old enough to stand on her own two feet she was shipped off to Cear to attend the academy. In Cear she was joined with her, until then unknown, cousin Tahl'nae Rhaz whom she would learn to appreciate and cope with as a sister.
Studies and Allegiances
Yvalee was educated by her family until she was sent to attend the University in Cear. Unfortunately life at the University did not work out for her, so she sought other means of further elaborating on her studies. Through chance she found private tutorship under Master Ishmarle Serius, who would later take her as his wife. After her studies with Serius, she briefly enjoyed apprenticeship with Master Thanos Parch of the Ordo Magica. As a requirement to be wedded to Serius she requested for Master Parch to revoke her status as student and be granted the title of Master. Currently she teaches "Generic Arcanum" to first and second circle students at the Collegium Arcanum in Ravenwatch and supports Serius in his private studies, as well as focussing on her own.
A Shadowmage of Coloth
Through the teachings of her grandmother Yvalee grew up to be a Shadowmage. She was taught in the old Ansharian (Colothian) ways but never identified herself with The Unholy Trinity in the Canite Heresy. She was an active Colothian (until her marriage) but as is custom she would not likely openly admit to being a Shadowmage. If she was asked to describe her relationship to Coloth she would most likely have focussed on the chaotic aspect of her Patron Deity, and how he continued to form the way she dealt in politics and public relations. When the agreement of marriage was made with Serius, she promised to renounce her faith. Though still qualifying as a Shadowmage, she now no longer practises.
Married Life
The Iaover in the 641 year since the Minilsuzyan Reformation, the 47th year of the reign of Emperor Marcus IV Yvalee was wedded into House Serius as wife to Ishmarle Serius, taking his name. Their union is officially acknowledged in both Varana and Cuhanna. They live in Serius Manor in Empress Court, Cear.
Personality
Yvalee is not known for her pleasant personality. Although she has lost many of her more vicious traits over the years, she remains mostly socially awkward, either by choice or by nature. Narcissism and machiavellianism are traits deep ingrained within her, though amongst those she calls friends she may display affection. She has a rather unhealthy, expensive addiction to fashion and will not pass by on the opportunity to expand on her already far too elaborate wardrobe.
Last edited by Kell on Tue Jun 24, 2014 3:45 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Birth, life on Iryrod and Lineage
Ardaion Raevon Aeramin was born first son to Thorvallar and Sylvande Aeramin. He was named after his fathers' father Raevon, who established the family name and nobility as a high ranking officer in the Iryrodian navy. He has one younger sister. Born a noble on the island of Iryrod, Ardaion was raised to fit in with the Iryrodian upper-class elite, and to one day inherit his fathers estate and legacy.
When the call from Rian came in Ardaion left the island for Rian to keep the spirit of his beloved who wouldn't come with him alive. This was a choice that he's always regretted, however he has come to terms with the choices made in young age. As an Iryrodian he could never feel home in Rian so after wandering for a couple of decades he came to settle in the port city of Cear, which reminded him most of home.
Ardaion was raised a Rhauthian and to follow his paternal line of ancestory within the ranks of the Brotherhood of the Trident. In his earlier years enjoyed training as a weapons-master with the warhammer as favored weapon. Later on in his life when his spirituality began to play a bigger role, he converted to devoting his time to the Temple of Rhauth full time.
Priest of Rhauth
Ardaion is a Priest to the Temple of Rhauth (location Cear) where he was trained by Father Thorpe. His main task at the temple is that of a guardian to the Cearian orphans that house in the dorms below. Recently he has taken steps towards initiation as recognized Stormpriest in the Order of Gale: a separatist and more obscure branch of the Brotherhood of the Trident.
The Free Vanguard
In the year of 641 MR Ardaion joined the Free Vanguard upon recommendation of his friend Tharwulf.
Personal life
He has little to no communication with his family back home on Iryrod. As a Dasarian settled Iryrodian-Varanite, he understands the implications to him having left Iryrod for the Call and because of it, he sees no use in attempting to rekindle family ties. In the year of 641 MR he became father to three children: Arveldir and Crystal Aeramin, second generation Iryrodian-Varanite elves from Cear whose mother is Clerk Thirianna Thallador of Farallis and Boar, his second son, human-born from Leavinia (last name unknown) of Two Bridges.
Through circumstances he remains unwedded. Because of this none of his children will be recognised as heirs to the Aeramin family line.
Personality
Ardaion is known to be a quiet, stubborn man, but kind to friend and enemy (most of the times). He has a crude, sometimes rude, sense of humor, but attempts to retain his integrity at all times. Due to his rather unruly, Rhauthian nature, some will find him to behave irratic and unpreditable, even untrustworthy. Yet his actions are hardly ever of a vile nature. He's not known to be very lucky.
